~ The Gypsy Witch ~

by

Mariah LeGrand

He whistled softly as he counted the last of his cargo, marking it carefully on his list of booty. With the job completed, he passed the last hogshead laying on its side, setting it upright.

Suddenly he stopped. He heard something. Retracing his steps, he looked around and heard it again. It sounded like a moan and it came for one of the barrels nearest him. He pulled his dagger from its sheath at his waist, and sticking it under the lid, applied leverage under its rim. He replaced the weapon and lifted the circular disc and cast it aside to stare at the rumpled contents huddled on the bottom, moaning in semi-consciousness.

"Well, I’ll be damned! What have we here? A stowaway?" he said surprised.

Danielle, the pain in her head throbbing with each beat of her heart, could hear the strange voice speaking to her from miles away. As her mind cleared she realized the man was speaking in English.

"Here lad, let’s take a look at you." Scott reached down and placed his hands under the armpits of the young woman in the cask, lifting her out to stand on wobbly bare feet.

Danielle, a thousand pins going through her limbs, crumbled toward the hard muscular body in front of her. Her head barely reached his shoulders. Before she made contact with his chest he blocked her fall, grabbing her shoulders, righting her once again.

Scott looked at the lad before him. He could be no more than ten and four years of age and his shoulder bones had felt so thin beneath his hands he presumed the lad to be half starved.

Danielle stepped back in shock and grasped the side of the barrel for support. She looked around her. Even in her dazed condition, she was aware that she was no longer on Captain Le Homme’s ship. The explosion… it must have been this English speaking pirate! Her memory returned full force.

Her anguished mind was full of questions of Captain Le Homme and his men. She closed her eyes tightly, her body slightly swaying, hoping to open them and find it was all a nightmare. What if the man before her found out she was a woman?

"Well, son, what have you to say for yourself? Do you know the penalty for being a stowaway?" He meant to frighten the lad into some sort of life. At the moment he looked scared to death. He was not to be disappointed. The lad’s eyes, way too pretty for a boy snapped open and stared daggers at him.

"I am no stowaway, pirate!" Danielle purposely dropped her voice an octave. As long as he thought her a ‘lad’ she may be able to live and escape. "I did not come willingly to this ship… I was carried!"

Scott looked at the fire shooting from the dark eyes and inwardly smiled. The waif reminded him of himself many years ago. He may hate the French but he was never one to hurt children or women.

"So you speak the King’s English well. You must have had some education. Well contemplate this! You have no idea what a bad day this is for you. You see, I despise all French. And… whether you came of your own free will or not, you are now on my ship!" He saw the shoulders slump in fright. "So what shall I do with you? Throw you overboard?" He looked down at her bare feet and raised his glance assessingly. "There’s not enough meat on your bones to feed the fish." Scott shook his head. A lad this young would be a hindrance aboard a ship of seasoned sailors. And his prettiness and slight frame would cause all kinds of heckling from the seamen…

"Are you trained at anything? Everyone has to pull his own weight on board this ship." the words came out in a gentler tone.

Danielle’s mind raced over all her talents, discarding each one as worthless in the predicament in which she found herself. Bravely she answered. "I can help cook and clean the cabins."

Scott threw back his head and laughed. "I have an excellent cook and he will not be too happy to have a child in his galley."

A child! She fumed, wishing she could slap the smile from his handsome face. Handsome? Where had that come from? But glancing up at him from the corner of her eyes she admitted it was so. She had never seen a man so handsome and so well put together as the one before her. His shoulders were so broad they blocked the rest of the room from her vision and she had to look a long way up to see his twinkling dark brown eyes. He resembled some mighty warrior towering over her.

Scott grabbed her arm. "Well come along, I will find something you should be able to do." Without releasing his hold, he tugged her in his wake to the upper deck.

"Unhand me!" Danielle tried to jerk her arm lose from his steel grip. With his long legs she was almost running to keep up.

The captain ignored her paltry struggling. He marched across the open deck, disregarding the surprised glances from the men, as he pulled Danielle behind him. He went directly to his cabin and threw open the door, pushing her into the room ahead of him.

She rubbed her arm where his fingers had surely left a bruise. Her anger at his treatment caused her to speak.

"I have two legs, you didn’t have to be so rough!"

Scott stood with his feet spread, his hands resting on his hips and looked at the fire shooting from the large dark eyes before him. The lad had courage, he had to admit. Scott ignored the taunt.

"Since you say you can clean, you will be my cabin boy. It’s not a luxury I normally give myself but considering the circumstances, perhaps I will enjoy it." His arm swung around the room. You will clean and fetch for me and do certain duties aboard ship to earn you keep." He walked over to a desk heavily laden with maps spread atop its surface. "But do not touch these. Leave everything on this desk alone. Agreed?"

Danielle nodded. Did he think her a buffoon? She knew enough not to touch a man’s desk.

"What shall I call you?" He waited for the lad to answer. "You do have a name, don’t you?" he smiled then, his white teeth a sharp contrast to the darkness of his skin. The change was dramatic compared to his fierce countenance of just a few minutes before.

Danielle swallowed trying to get her mind working again yet faced him squarely. His smile made her lose her train of thought. What had he asked her? She looked away from his face so she could bring her thoughts under control. "Dan, Pirate. My name is Dan Rochette."

At that moment the door swung open to admit Ricardo. "One of the men said you brought someone from the hold and I just had to check it out for myself. What on earth are we to do with one such as this?" Ricardo had never been able to abide the weak pretty fops of England, and in the right clothes, that would be exactly what stood in front of him now.

"The lad is to be my cabin boy, Ricardo. What better use for him? Take him to meet the cook so he can eat. He looks half starved. And Dan?" Scott looked at his new charge. "Have the cook fix me something and bring it back to me. I’ll give you the rest of your orders then."

Danielle nodded silently, her rage growing. A cabin boy! She mumbled under her breath and followed the Spaniard from the room.

Once in the galley the cook, who was simply called ‘cook’ fussed around making her eat every morsel of the food he sat in front of her. It was not difficult as she was very hungry indeed. Some stout ale was given to her to wash it all down. She sat back replenished. She glanced down at her breasts protruding from her shirt and quickly leaned forward again. Ricardo had been talking to the cook and luckily had not noticed. This was one time she wished she could have been flat chested. If she didn’t watch herself the damnable things would get her in trouble.

"So Captain Dominion will not be going to England as yet, Ricardo?" Cook asked as he busied himself cutting vegetables for the evening meal.

Danielle choked on her last swallow of ale spewing half its contents onto the floor. Dominion! The dreaded privateer!

"You all right, lad?" the cook questioned.

She nodded. "Just a bit of ale down the wrong pipe." She croaked. She saw the tray ready to take to the captain and rose. She left the two men staring after her as she made her way back to the captain’s cabin.

Scott was sitting at his desk, buried in paperwork and barely noticed her entrance. She sat the tray on the table and moved away across the room. Her eyes moved down the muscles of his back as he leaned over his ledgers. He was young to have such a horrendous reputation. It was hard for her to imagine the hatred he had against her countrymen. What would bring about such vengeance?

Scott put down his pen and stood, stretching his arms above his head. Danielle forced her eyes to look away. This was a man to be reckoned with and she must be wary.

"Lad, I am in need of a bath. Raiding the French is sweaty business. You will find a tub in yonder closet. Fill it for me." He sat down and started on his meal.

Danielle went to do his bidding. It took a few minutes for her to pull the heavy tub out of the closet. It must weigh a ton, she thought to herself. And there was no doubt that she wouldn’t get any help from the privateer filling his face at the table. Finally dragging it into place she left to return to the galley for water. After many trips the tub was ready. The last pot of hot water was standing nearby and she had sat out a towel and a bar of soap. That should be everything he would need she decided and started to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Scott asked. Done with his short repast, he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on a chair.

Danielle looked at the expanse of bare chest, the fine sun bleached hairs grouped in the center between the two dark globes of his nipples. Her eyes raised to meet his. She could feel the heat in her face and spoke angrily. "Well, you don’t need me to wash all that," she motioned to his body, "do you?"