In Which the Agreement is Made

From the diary of Dulcie, Crown Princess of Bentlefay:

An adventure sounds like a nice thing to have, and I hope that once it’s over I shall be in a position to remember it fondly, but just at the moment there’s no guarantee of that – quite the contrary, actually. I am trying my best to be very calm and logical about writing it down, but I don’t feel at all that way inside. One never thinks about that sort of thing when one hears the old stories.

We had no inkling of what might happen when we went over to the Golden Gull at sunset – me in my best, Lynde in her leathers, and four large and musclebound seamen in their dress uniforms. The captain seemed back in the swithers about letting me go, but there being nothing he could do about it short of putting me in restraint, which would get him in even more trouble, he bowed stiffly over my hand and stood on the deck radiating disapproval as we climbed down to the boat.

A rope ladder is not the easiest situation to negotiate in a court dress with a train, but at the slight sacrifice of my dignity I kept it out of the way long enough to tip ignominiously into my seat. The rowers got us to the Golden Gull in double-quick time, which made Lynde turn a bit green around the gills but which, as I explained to her, at least got it over with quickly. She didn’t seem to quite see that bit of philosophy, but we were there before she had the chance to give it too much thought.

We could see Long Bob’s immense beard smiling at us from the deck as we bumped up against the side. “Halloo!” he bellowed. “Drop a ladder for our guests, boys!”

“Me and Jemmy will go up first,” said the leader of our escort grimly. “If we don’t holler safe, Seamus will pull like hell back to the Porteous, and give the alarm.”

But of course he “hollered safe” right away, although he sounded a little disappointed about it, and we made the boat fast and Lynde went next so she could haul me aboard. I didn’t want to depend on our hosts for that, and I didn’t want too much shoving from behind on the part of Seamus and his mate, but with Lynde at the top of the ladder to grab me by the arms I was able to clamber on board with a bit more grace than I had displayed on the other end.

I brushed down the front of my dress and Lynde arranged my train behind, and when the last two of our escort had swarmed up behind us, we went forward to the receiving party.

The three captains were there, of course, and I was interested to see that Masters had thought it was worth dressing up a little more for this part, with a fine linen shirt and a blue coat instead of a brown one. The Gull’s crew was lined up in rows just like the Porteous’ had been this afternoon, and I wondered if that was habitual for pirate crews or if Long Bob had been more impressed by his reception than he had made himself out to be. Pirates do not wear uniforms, of course, so the effect was not as tidy as it was on the naval ship, but the gay individuality of their working clothes certainly made them more interesting to look at.

“Good evening, young Dulcie,” said Long Bob. “You honor us with your company, and I can promise you won’t regret it.” He turned to the ranked men. “How about three cheers for the princess, boys?”

And cheer they did, full throated and gleeful, flinging their fists into the air. At the end of the cheer they scattered back to their business, some climbing cat-like into the rigging and some disappearing below deck. Just the three captains remained, and Long Bob stepped forward.

“Did you bring the treaty, young Dulcie?” He was uncharacteristically solemn, and I gestured to Lynde, who opened the pouch at her waist and brought out the scroll. Long Bob read through it, and handed it to Herring, who made a long job of it before finally wiping his forehead and handing it to Masters. Masters read it, handed it back to me, and stepped back expectantly.

Long Bob proceeded to astonish Lynde and our contingent by taking out an immense horn-handled dagger with a wickedly sharp tip. Mother had told me what to expect, but I didn’t know the knife would be so large, and I’m afraid my apprehension showed. The leader of our escort hissed his breath in between his teeth and Lynde moved as if to stand in front of me.

“It’s all right,” I said quickly, and was disgusted to find that my voice had gone away into my head. “It’s all right,” I said again, normally. “This is part of the ceremony.”

So Lynde fell back and the escort drew in around me, and Long Bob took my finger and pricked it with the very tip of his knife with the tenderness of someone changing a baby. There was another gasp when everyone saw the blood, but Long Bob ignored them.

“Excellent,” he said, and I made a fingerprint in blood on the scroll. “Hook!”

Herring came up with a bottle of spirit and a clean rag and fussed over my hand, and then Long Bob pricked his own finger and did the same thing, and then Herring and Masters in their turn.

“There, now,” Long Bob said. “With that out of the way, we can have ourselves a feast!” And the other two captains nodded and smiled as though the feast was what everyone was here for, and we all knew it.

(to be continued)