The Future

“I did not realise it was time,” she said simply, pushing the stopper into the ink well.
“I came early so we could get in some practice before Callisto got busy with the fishing.”
“Fishing?” Ruby looked up with fascination. The first change to their routine in time immeasurable. She understood now the wisdom in carving a notch everyone morning when you woke.
“I think you will find it amusing Señora.”

He came over to the table to look at the exercises she had been doing with Matthew. Ruby snatched up the skin and held it to her chest.
“Best you not offend yourself with my childish script Captain.”
“I am intrigued to see your progress Señora.”
“Later then.” She took a step backwards, reaching across the table to hand the scroll as if Matthew was a trust accomplice. “If you can beat me this afternoon I will show you my work. Now you promised me the Toledo rapier today. Perhaps it is my lucky day.” She smiled with impish disregard for proprietary. “Let me change.”

Juan looked over to the renegade priest who sat staring out the huge bay window in the rear of the Grand Cabin, Ruby’s work in his hand.
“I’m not sure this will work Captain,” Matthew said, turning his attention back to the table. The disregarded quill, the barely stoppered ink well and the space where the skin scroll had sat. ‘She has not passion for learning. For writing or reading.”
“Infuse her with passion then.” He walked over to the window and stared out at the cloudless sky. The ever ending calm. Wishing for a breathe of wind. “It is of even greater importance now she is kept below.”
“Yet you parade her above in tight pants with a sword.” Matthew scrambled to his feet. His height dwarfing even the Captain. “Forgive me Juan. I forget my place.” He sat back. “I’m sorry Captain.”
“There must be something among your books which will interest her. And if you wish spend all the daylight hours down here imprisoned with her – you are welcome.”

“I am not some problem you can talk your way out of – either of you.” Ruby stood in the door in her favourite men’s shirt and pants. Her breasts bound close to her body with an old length of hemp cloth.
“No Señora – you are your own problem.”
“You asked me to act like a lady and I have. I can’t cope Juan.”
“The winds will pick up again and soon we will be Italy. You will have money and time to buy new dresses.”
“It is not new dresses I want.” It was barely contained – a scream threatening to tear from her furious lips. Matthew’s mother had called him little storm cloud as a child when he had flown into one of his childish rages and she had tried to cover his ruddy face in small butterfly kisses. Ruby reminded him of the storm cloud he had once been. “I want respect!.”
“Let me remind you Señora,” Juan straightened his jacket and took a step towards her. “You are on board a pirate ship. And you chose to be on this said pirate ship. Perhaps you might spend your quiet hours contemplating your future.”
“You don’t mean –“
“You may have your intaglio and disembark when we make landfall Señora.”
“You are leaving me behind.” It hung in the air like the acrid after smell of a snuffed candle.
“No. I am suggesting Señora you carefully consider what you want your future to be once we arrive in Italy.”

Ruby strode across the Grand Cabin and stood on tip toes to take the rapier from the hooks it had been placed in.
“You would say good-bye to me that easily Juan? Break out partnership.”

Matthew coughed reminding both of them he was bearing witness.
“Just something for you to think on Señora. Let us not make any hasty plans.”
“No let us not.”