Grantville Gazette 43
Pam laughed aloud, really beginning to take a shine to Lijss, who reminded her more than a little of Dore; a formidable woman indeed! Lijss was drawing her fist back for another blow when Piet intervened, stepping between the two.
"Lijss, please. Have mercy. The children are watching," he implored in the German dialect they shared.
Pam, still chuckling at the misunderstanding and not feeling at all insulted given the times, decided to clear up her reputation, and save poor Harmannus' life.
"It's all right, a simple misunderstanding! I can easily see how one might make such a mistake. I am wearing clothes I found on a Chinese ship my men and I captured from the hands of pirates. My own clothes were lost when the French sank my first ship. I am not the captain's woman, I am the captain!" She laughed aloud then, which helped greatly to take the weight off the situation.
"You are a good man Harmannus, and now you are my good friend. All of you are! Let's enjoy our victory!" She took Lijss gently by the hand, and pulled her back down beside her, handing her the wine skin. They both took a long swig, squeezing every drop from it. Lijss sent Harmannus and Piet off to find them a refill. They both started giggling as the brothers scuttled away, relieved to have escaped Lijss's wrath.
Once they settled down, some of the women approached Pam, deep pain plain to see in their moist eyes. Lijss took a turn at translating. These were the women who had lost husbands and boy children to the French pirates and their hired African slavers.
"Please, have you seen our loved ones?" they asked. One young mother was in tears. "My boy, little Hannus, he was only nine years old! I tried to make him run away with me, but he went back to help his father! Do you know him? Is he alive amongst the Swedes?"
Pam was moved by their plight, her own eyes growing moist. She, too was a mother, who had emotionally lost one son, and who had almost lost her adopted Pers. She grieved with them, and made a promise.
"I wasn't in the colony long enough to learn if there were any Dutch amongst the freed Swedes, but we will find out soon enough! And I promise you all, that evil bastard Capitan Leonce Toulon de Aquitane will answer for his sins if he has harmed your boy children! That will be just another in a long list of crimes I hold him accountable for, and he will pay the ultimate price! I intend to hang him so high the crows will have to fly all day to reach him before they can make sport with him! He will suffer and die under the eyes of God and be sent to Hell and good riddance!"
These strong words comforted the mothers, and one by one they curtsied before her as if she were a noblewoman. That, I might never get used to, Pam thought, amazed at the sight. I'm not saying I mind it, I just might not get used to it. I can definitely say one good thing for the life of an adventuress, I'm never bored! Pam mused with grim humor, wondering when Gerbald would show up. Lijss threw another log on the fire.
****
Gerbald pondered their next move. They had found a man's body washed up on the shore, with gaping knife wounds. The corpse was still fairly fresh, not many hours had passed since his demise. That made Gerbald very happy indeed, Pam was quite possibly still alive, and, it seemed, armed. This fellow had obviously under-estimated his dear and dangerous friend.
"Gerbald! Look!" Torbjörn called over to the German sergeant "Smoke, and lots of it! About a half-mile downstream!"
"Bingo!" Gerbald started down the bank at a trot, followed closely by his determined band of groaning, foot-sore men.
****
Pam heard a familiar bird call coming from the trees, a question, "Danger?" She answered the call with another, "Safety." Here was a trick that she had taught Gerbald; signaling each other in the surprisingly complex language of crows, which she had learned from her grandmother. She had forgotten it over the soft years of being a housewife, but when her love of bird-watching returned downtime, she quickly regained the knack. Call me Doctor Doolittle, she thought, girlishly pleased with her cleverness. Her men were here!
Pam wondered if a certain Swedish captain would be among them. She bet that he would, blushing already.
"My friends have arrived!" she called out to everyone. Despite her answering signal, she figured that Gerbald would not come up the obvious trail from the beach. She wasn't disappointed. Gerbald appeared at the edge of the forest like a wraith, still partially hidden behind a bush, Pam's Smith and Wesson.38 in one hand, the Snakecharmer in the other.
"Come on out, Stallone! These people are on our side. For Christ's sake, don't shoot anyone!" She repeated the message in Swedish.
"You are safe?" he asked, gazing suspiciously at the Dutch.
"Yes, thanks for asking, though! I knew you would come find me! Now come out and sit down. These people are refugees from a small Dutch settlement Leonce Toulon and his thugs destroyed. They are our friends."
Gerbald nodded, and gave orders in Swedish to the rest of his posse. The Swedes and, Pam nearly jumped for joy, Torbjörn, came out of the woods from all sides, having encircled the camp. They were all carrying the deadly Suhl-manufactured up-time-style pistols Redbird and Muskjil 's crewmen had been outfitted with. Pam, having grown up shooting in a family of typical rural West Virginia gun nuts, thought these were remarkably well made, considering the limitations of the current technology. It was amazing just how far the reach of a young princess went, only the best weapons available for her expedition! She was definitely her father's child. Pam was sure that in time Kristina would, in her own way, become just as powerful a force to be reckoned with. It was good to know high-placed people when in dangerous times and places, Pam thought, not for the first time. Her would-be rescuers looked like a cross between Robin Hood's Merry Men and a S.W.A.T. team, which made her giggle.
"Lower your guns you maniacs, the situation is under control here! The enemy has been conquered." Gerbald and his posse all looked a bit crestfallen despite the good news, disappointed at having been deprived of the pleasures of a good fight after all their hard work.
Doctor Durand came out of the brush last, following in Gerbald's tracks. He was winded and a bit worse for the wear, but Pam was impressed to see that he had joined the posse, and kept up! Perhaps he wasn't such a fancy pants after all! She was glad that she had indeed become the doctor's "new best friend," another good decision. He was useful, and a charming conversationalist to boot.
The silent Dutch waited with trepidation, looking to Pam for reassurance. She smiled at them reassuringly, motioning for them to relax.
Gerbald strode over to Pam with Torbjörn at his side, both grinning like fools despite their exhaustion from the chase. Gerbald paused to let the Swedish captain go first. Torbjörn stepped up to Pam and scooped her into his arms, the breathless embrace of a man who thought he had lost his love, again. Pam gasped, then kissed him like she meant it. After a long, blissful moment, she remembered where they were, and gently broke free.
She whispered to him, "I'm glad to see you, too, you really have no idea how much, but let's not get too fresh in front of the Dutch! Save it for later, they already have some funny ideas about me." Torbjörn gave her an understanding, and incredibly sexy smile. He released her with gentlemanly grace, his fingertips lingering for one last thrilling touch. Pam felt her brain melting. She focused hard on the here and now, hoping later would come soon.
Gerbald took his turn next, clasping her hands in his fatherly way. "You had us worried, you know," he told her in English, "Dore is just about fit to be tied. She's praying so hard that I will return with our dear Pam safe and sound that I'm afraid the Lord won't get much sleep again tonight."
"I'm so sorry Gerbald! I was such an idiot going off by myself like that. I just needed time to sort out all that's been happening. I should have let you come along, and I should have brought my gun." Pam looked down, guilty that her pride had inadvertently caused so much trouble.
Gerbald nodded, not disagreeing, but not rubbing it in with an "I told you so," either.
"Well, my dear Pam, I must say you managed quite well off on your
own, we have been following a trail of corpses. First, a man with his head caved in by a rock, then a man stabbed to death and washed up on the beach. You certainly made them pay for their sins!"
Pam laughed a grim little laugh. "Wow, that brings my count to twelve."
"That's more than many soldiers I've known. In any case, let's move on to happier topics." He smiled, and leaned in close to her. "What did you mean by 'funny ideas'?"
Pam blushed and whispered back to him "These people are Dutch colonists, simple farmer types. They had never seen anyone dressed like me before, except for some Chinese girls who were, uh, working in Amsterdam. So, they didn't get that I was the captain, they thought I was the captain's woman."
"Ah. So, they thought you were the captain's wife?" Gerbald asked, looking perfectly innocent. Pam rolled her eyes at him, pretty sure he was teasing her, and after all she had been through! Leave it to Gerbald to find humor in any situation. "No, not his wife, you dork! His, you know . . . his . . . "
"Oh! His whore!" he said in a loud stage whisper. Pam slugged him on the arm, and stuck her tongue out at him. She switched to German. "Here you are, giving me a hard time after all I've been through! Be glad Dore isn't here, you oafish lout! Watch out, or you'll end up like the leader of my kidnappers."
Doctor Durand stepped forward then, interrupting with a polite bow. "I am so pleased to see you are safe, Pam, we all are. Before I examine your injuries, may I ask, what has become of your pursuers? We estimated there was still two on your trail."
"Yes, there were. The Dutch helped me capture them in a fishing net. They're hanging around just over there. One of them is still alive, if you want to question him. The other one died." She spoke as nonchalantly as if she were relating the day's weather.
"Oh? May I ask how?" Durand inquired with the professional curiosity of a physician.
Pam smiled. "Head injury."
Chapter Sixty-four: The Captain's Man
The women of the camp had kindly replaced what was left of Pam's clothes with their own best. The simple, but pretty, country style of this century suited her somehow, and she couldn't help but preen. She would make sure to return the favor with some of the wonderful silks stored on Second Chance Bird. Pam caught Torbjörn eying her appreciatively, and blushed, but returned his gaze with a broad grin. Be careful what you ask for, mister, you might get it!
Everyone was served a delicious meal featuring barbecued fish, salt rising bread, and fresh fruit by the gracious Dutchwomen, some of who, being young and single, were eying the strapping Swedish marines with more than polite interest. The Dutch had a plentiful supply of wine, which made everybody relax, a most welcome balm for the tensions of the previous days. Pam felt giddy as a school girl, and even after all her perils she couldn't bring herself to go to sleep.
After dinner, their hosts pulled out some fiddles and accordions, striking up a merry tune. Despite the long hours the men had put in, they all got up, and began dancing around the bonfire. Pam, still holding court on her comfortable log, favored the happy group with a wide smile. Suddenly, warm strong hands grasped hers.
"May I have this dance, milady?" Torbjörn knelt before her, his manly, bearded face held close to hers, sea-blue eyes a-glow in the firelight.
"Uh-huh!" was all Pam could answer back, her internal organs having somehow re-arranged themselves so that her heart was up in her throat, blocking all attempts at rational discourse.
She was drawn gently, but inexorably to her feet, then swept off them by sure, strong arms about her waist. She was pretty sure no part of her was touching the ground, the ability to fly as easy as remembering how. Her entire body was vibrating in a most remarkable way, and she didn't want it to stop. Torbjörn laughed his deep, thrilling laugh, and they spun off into a whirling, dizzy world of their own.
Gerbald sat on the log talking with Harmannus and Piet. Gerbald was far more fluent in their dialect of German than Pam had been, and they were enjoying a merry conversation, tongues loosened by the plenitude of wine. Lijss leaned against the log beside them, snoring gently, so it was just the boys now.
"We can't tell you how happy we are to have you all here, Herr Gerbald," Harmannus told him in warm tones. "Hearing that the French are vanquished, and the island is safe, is a great relief to us! Your Captain Pam is a most remarkable woman, if those ruffians had gotten to us first I hesitate to think what might have happened. We owe her our lives!"
"Captain Pam is the toughest, smartest, most stubborn woman I have ever met, after my own, dear wife, Dore. I'm just glad my wife disapproves of weapons. Do you know, Pam has killed twelve men by her own hand, all of whom had it coming! What a woman! I'm just glad she's on my side!" Gerbald swallowed a chuckle as the Dutchmen's eyes grew wide. "In any case, I can tell you she's quite fond of you all, and intends to invite you to join our colony, if you wish it."
Just then, Pam and Torbjörn went twirling by, followed by a line of giggling Dutch girls and grinning Swedes. Gerbald smiled, glad to see his dear friend having some fun for a change. The relief he felt at finding her safe was beyond measure. As far as her new paramour, he had liked Torbjörn from the moment they met, and the budding romance had his firm approval.
Piet leaned over to him and asked "That handsome Swedish fellow, is he Pam's betrothed?"
Gerbald grinned devilishly. "Oh no, he's just the captain's man."
The two Dutchmen's eyes widened even further, and Gerbald couldn't help to laugh as they gaped, at a complete loss for words. His dear little Pam, always shocking!
Finally, Harmannus found his voice, and stretched upwards with a satisfied groan. "Ah. Oh. Interesting times, indeed! Well, I had best take my wife off to bed then, and get some rest, I'm of an age where a little merriment is more than enough. We are most grateful to you all, and I must speak to the others, but I'm sure we would like to join your settlement, if you will have us. We have arranged a tent for you and your men. I'm afraid it's not very comfortable, but it's the best we have."
"Thank you for your hospitality, good sir! I'll tell the men of your kindness. As for me, I shall sleep in the bosom of the forest, there is nothing more restful than a bower beneath the trees. Good night Herr Piet, Herr Harmannus!"
The two men retired, carrying Lijss, who had drunk enough wine for several strong men, gently between them. Gerbald watched the dance a while longer, then slipped off into the woods to make his traditional hunter's bed of boughs.
****
An hour or two later, the fire had died down to a pleasant flicker, and all but a few young folk had retired for the night. Pam and Torbjörn sat nestled together on the grass with their backs against the comfortable log. Pam's head lay on his chest, rising and falling slightly with the slow rhythm of his breathing. Torbjörn gently ran his fingers through her hair, a deeply satisfying sensation. Pam felt as if she had wandered into an old love song. It was a very warm night, with a slight mugginess in the air. Pam's thoughts went to her journey down the river, she remembered how it had felt so soothingly cool.
"Hey you." she said softly, turning her face toward his well trimmed beard, "Do you know how to swim?"
"But of course. Do you?"
"Yeah. Let's go down to the river and cool off."
"An excellent idea." Hand in hand, they strolled down the path to the shore. A little farther downstream they found a sandy beach at a bow in the river, the water behind it was slow and inviting, flickering stars reflected off the smooth surface.
Pam looked at Torbjörn, who already had his shirt off. He was one hell of a handsome man, a grown-up version of the long-haired 1970s poster boys that posed fetchingly on her bedroom walls back in her teens. She felt shy for a moment, then remembered that the truth was, she looked better than she had in years, more like Pam Miller in her twenties than forties. She was physically fit, and possibly even a bit too thin for a change! She had allowed her unruly, dishwater blond hair to grow long, down past her shoulders, the silvery streaks of premature gray arcing
through it were actually a blessing, natural highlights! She untied her common sense ponytail, and shook it out, so that it expanded into a feline mane. She felt Torbjörn's eyes upon her, and sensed their approval on some kind of deep, instinctual level.
Oh, what the hell, she thought, her self-consciousness evaporating along with the sweat on her arms in the cool riverside air, time to go for it. She pulled off her Dutch farm girl's blouse, followed quickly by skirt and undergarments. She paused to give Torbjörn a good look, then waded into the sandy shallows, where she made a graceful, shallow dive. She surfaced, and looked back to see that Torbjörn had now lost his trousers, and smiled to see that she had, indeed, made an impression on him. He was a glorious nude. Years of hard work had made him into a muscular Norse god, his long, curly hair a red-gold crown. He laughed, and charged in after her with a great splash, making her squeal with delight.
They didn't touch for a time, content to swim side by side against the slow current, letting the river wash away the aches and pains of their trials. Eventually, they paused beneath the grassy bank, under a curtain of meadow flowers hanging over its edge, their bright, daytime colors muted into shades of gray in the starlight. They kissed there, softly, barely touching at first, standing with feet lightly anchored in the sandy bottom, their bodies weightless in the gentle press of the river's flow. They drew each other closer, their kisses growing hungrier, their embrace more powerful.
After a timeless time, Torbjörn gently pulled himself back from their steamy kisses to look into Pam's stormy gray eyes, a sight which always captivated him, mesmerized him with their power. Pam was a strong and graceful tigress, wild and fearless! He had never met anyone else like her, she was a warrior goddess, from the old stories, confident, courageous! He wanted her, and his heart beat fast knowing that she wanted him, too. He smiled then, a question. Pam smiled back, an answer. They embraced again, moving together slowly, then more swiftly, their soft cries a chorus for the river's liquid music. Eternity passed by in ecstasy, and then passed again.