28Lift A Fallen Star
Sam Imes
"I, magistrate of His Majesty, the King of England, ordain on this, 4 May, The Year Of Our Lord 1508. Mr. Andrew Freeman and Miss Star, convicted of assisting the piracy of the warship Atlantic Hawk, the royal naval ship Queen of the Seas, the trade ship Seafarer, the trade ship Dolphin." The list was long. Star lifted her head proudly at the accomplishments her father had made, bless him. And her mother. "-and countless French embassy ships, disrupting peace attempts between our two long-conflicted countries, all crimes against the Crown. Therefore, the two aforementioned criminals shall choose. Either life in prison, or a free life with a good English family, if they should swear allegiance to the Crown of England, as well as a fine of 200 gold, plus 50 gold to the court for the expenses of this trial. May God guide their hearts in the choosing.
Star's head was in a turmoil. Why should they give them a chance at a new life? Why would they care for the well-being of two ragged, filthy, murdering pirates such as themselves? Life in prison. Star shuddered. All her life, the only thing she had ever been afraid of was a cage. To waste away, watching her only friend in the world die, right beside she could not do. These past few hours, she had hardly had time to think of the bars that shut her in the small cell she had called home for the last two days. Now she pictured living there, clutching at them until the last drop of life had left her body, never to leave that tiny, enclosed space, without a breath of fresh air, nor a ray of sunshine to sustain her. While she was obviously not intended to die, it was undoubtedly her fate should she choose that to serve the very country her father had loathed, of her own free will. She had sworn that she would never be trapped, and here she was, in the very position she had feared to be in when she swore that long-ago oath .
Torn between her loyalties to her father and her loyalties to herself, Star lifted her hands to her head, trying to rid herself of the headache that threatened, its source a dull throbbing from the lump at the base of her skull. As she did so, the chains that bound her hands to the table in front of her clanked together, startling the pirate. Star suddenly realized that she was already a prisoner, and always would be, no matter what choice she made. And if she was with a noble might have an opportunity to lead a better life than any other possible life she could have, now. Not to mention - oh, this was too perfect - escape. The word whispered through Star's mind, echoing in her ears.
Andy watched the sadness and confusion, and overall, utmost bewilderment, bloom on Star's face. Then the , the fear. The terror that washed across her expression chilled him to the bone. Poor Star - the girl had hardly had a chance to accept the fact that her family - indeed, all the friends she had in the world, besides himself - were gone. Dead. Just like that. He had already dulled it to a sharp ache, painful yet constant. He had dealt with loss, but Star - Star hadn't. She was just, well, an innocent child. Despite her many battles, she had never lost one this badly. She likely blamed herself for her family's deaths, and now more was added to her terrible burden. Now, so soon after losing the constant guidance of her rogue parents, she had to make her own way, decide in one moment how she would lead her life. A difficult decision under any circumstances. He had made his decision. She had to make hers. Andy pitied her.
The young man watched Star, surprised to see the horrible look in her eyes change to one of hope. All unknowing, a manic smile crept into place, a grin that was hard to describe as anything other than conspiratorial or mischievous. It was a thing he knew well.
The magistrate frowned at Star's expression, displeased to see her near- crazed with wicked delight, especially during such a serious occasion. She stood up and placed her palms face down on the table in front of her. She leaned forward in a challenging posture, ignoring the wary soldiers who stepped forward at this action. Star gazed at the magistrate with measuring eyes, nodded in satisfaction, and sat back. In a strong, proud voice, she proclaimed, "Freedom."
Andy tried to hide his astonishment, confusion, and even the tiny bit of betrayal at her response. How could she choose that? After what these damned English had done? They'd slaughtered her entire family, for God's sake! But either way, he swore, he'd follow through on his decision.
"Very well," the magistrate agreed, then turned his attention to Andy. "And you?" he asked. After one moment of hesitation, Andy stood and proclaimed his choice, rather awkwardly. "We've stood by each other through more than any of you English will ever go through. I won't abandon that, now. I'll follow Star, whatever she chooses." That said, he sat back down. Star stared at him in open-mouthed amusement. "Close the fly- trap, munchkin." He muttered gruffly, perturbed.
"If that is your final decision." he looked at Andy, giving either of them the chance to change their minds. Neither said a word. "Then I say this. The two before me are no longer criminals. In agreeing to swear allegiance to the Crown, and by accepting their punishments, in the face of the law, they have absolved themselves. However, I highly suggest a year's probation. As far as I can tell, you two may need it. Now that's settled, Mr. Andrew Freeman, you shall be put under the care of Lord Whitborough. Miss Star will be placed in the care of His Grace, the Duke of Wellington. So it shall be. Treat them as you would your own children." This last was spoken to the two gentlemen who had stood up. The grin faded from Star's face as she realized that they wouldn't be together. The Lord Whitborough was a shrewd-looking man, with a rather pointy face, and he stood shorter than Star herself. His hair was a muddy brown, and his mouth seemed permanently twisted into a scowl. His mousy wife was there, skittishly twisting a lace embroidered handkerchief between her fingers.
His Grace, the Duke of Wellington was a tall, white-haired man dressed in a smart black outfit. His light blue eyes sparkled with a hidden strength. He was, by no means, frail or sickly; quite the opposite, he was strong and healthy, a kindly man, by all accounts.
The magistrate pounded a stone gavel on a wooden block placed in the corner of his pedestal for just that purpose, emphasizing his decision. He left the room, followed by all the other noblemen who had come to watch Star's trial, the daughter of the infamous Rogue of the Sea, as many called him. Only their two guardians, and Lord Whitborough's wife, stayed. The lord himself gestured curtly and turned on his heel, his meaning loud and clear. Andy turned and hugged Star swiftly but firmly, ignoring the sinking feeling he felt when Star whispered, "You'll always be my brother", before he turned to follow. She could hardly see him go for the tears in her eyes. Little did she know that Andy's eyes were filled with tears of his own.
The kind Duke of Wellington took in the sight of the dirty, weeping girl in tattered rags, dried blood caked on one side of her face, and the smell of smoke permeating the men's clothing she wore.
"There, there, child, - don't cry. Your friend will be fine. The Lord Whitborough is an acquaintance of mine. You might even call him a friend. You will see Andrew Freeman again, I vow."
"Truly?" Star sniffled. Perhaps she had hope yet. However, there was no trace of the insane display of hope she had shown earlier, now that Andy was gone.
"Truly." The Duke smiled. "Come. We must get you home, so you can change into appropriate, clean clothing, hm? Then, my dear, we will confront my wife about the matter of your presence. Now that will take some work."
But it's not home, she wanted to say. You English blew that up! But she was too tired to argue.
*****
As it turned out, Star did not have a chance to change. The moment the carriage clattered to a stop in front of a grand country estate, a shrill voice made the Duke wince.
"Arthur! I've just heard from Lily Irving - what could you possibly have been thinking?" The woman shrieked. "Are you out of your senses? You brought that - that criminal into our home? What about the children? You - you must bring her back immediately! What will our guests think? What about the Society?!" She wailed, wringing her hands in distress.
"Please, mistress, I mean no harm-" Star began, but was cut off.
"My dear, the poor child has nowhere to go! Just look at her. Would you have me turn her out into the streets? Or hand her over to Frank Seymour? He was there, just waiting for his chance, and would have gotten it, had I not interfered." The Duke spoke quietly, persuading her. Baron Seymour was a notorious drunk, and it was whispered in corners among gossiping ladies or smoking men of his favorite hobby: "keeping" young girls, to what end, no one can prove, yet everyone knew it. Every girl he had ever "kept" had run away in disgrace to start a new life far away. The Duchess could hardly argue for his case.
"But the Society." she pleaded despairingly. Star could see that she fought a losing battle.
Before anymore could be said, a flood of children and puppies tumbled out the door. Shrieking in joy, the children ran while the puppies chased them. Star smiled, her dirty, bloody face looking much less threatening to the apprehensive Duchess.
A little boy tripped, falling on his face in front of Star, and breaking into tears. Instead of laughing, as the Duchess half-expected the pirate girl to do, she knelt, concern clear on her lovely face.
"Hush," She admonished him. "You must be strong, to honor your family. Do you know what my father once told me? He said, 'Pain is a part of life, as are birth and death. The thing that really matters is what you do in the face of that pain.' There, now. You want to be a big, strong, kind man like your papa, don't you. I bet if he falls down, he doesn't cry. Come. Dry your tears, and maybe you will have a treat later, if I can manage it." She said the last part in a confidential whisper. The child grinned and scampered off.
Star wiped tears from her eyes before standing up. Both adults looked at her strangely.
"What? Is there something on my face?" she joked, then realized that there was, and much too much for her own comfort or confidence. "If you are going to throw me out, please do so, but if not, may I please wash? I've been lying in this filth for three days. I would feel much better if I were clean." She added tiredly.
Realizing her manners were amiss, the Duchess ushered her into the spacious house. Star stared around at the expensive furnishings, but she was herded up the staircase to a room on the left, at the end of a well-lit hall, full of it's own wonders, before she could get a good look. Once the door was closed, servants quickly and efficiently stripped her clothes from her body.
Staring with wide eyes at the heavy brocade bed curtains, the large bay window, and the wide window-seat, and snuggling her bare toes into the thick, springy red carpet, she fidgeted, disliking the looks the women paid to her battle-scars. Then Star was pushed through another door, and she stopped and opened her mouth, but no sound, came out.
The closest thing to a bath she had ever had was a scrubbing in seawater, rinsing in the spray from the crashing waves, then a bucket of stale freshwater dumped over her. The tangles were worked out with a bit of oil. This rough process had only happened once a month (the sailors had them less than half so often). This was very much different.
Scented candles flickered everywhere. A bathtub big enough to fit two grown men was waiting, steaming hot, bubbles sitting atop the water as foam sits atop the waves of the sea. A fragrant scent floated through the air, and soft, fluffy towels there were aplenty.
Star was helped stiffly into the bath, and she gasped in sheer pleasure and surprise as the hot (hot!) water enfolded her in a warm embrace. She sat back, nearly unable to move, as her hair was gently washed with expensive, heavenly-smelling soap, then oiled to take the tangles out. The water was cooling when Star climbed out again. With surprise she realized that the water was pink from the blood that the maids had washed from her face. She was lowered into a different tub for a last rinse, then a soft towel was wrapped around her, and her hair was carefully dried. Then a gown, petticoats, underthings, and shoes were laid out, and Star was awkwardly assisted into them. A bruise across her ribs - she didn't know where it had come from - thankfully kept the corset loose, so it wouldn't hurt so much. Even so, her breathing was limited, and she was none too steady on her feet.
The shoes felt confining and wrong, and she wobbled when she walked, and not only because of the shoes. She had spent every minute of her life aboard the Dawning Star (she swallowed a lump of grief), and now suddenly she was without the rocking of the waves, the wind in her hair, the sun on her arms, the spray in her face. She felt out of place, a seahawk pretending to be a robin, and she said so.
The maids just laughed and told her to take small steps and small breaths. Star snorted in a most unladylike fashion, causing the women attending her to scold like jays. A knock on the door ceased their shocked chatter.
One girl opened the door to admit a physician who, Star thought, looked more toad than human. Nevertheless, he did patch up her head wound from the despicable man who was stealing her mother's jewelry. Star touched the locket as the doctor gave her an awful-tasting tonic for the headache she had woken up with in the jail. It was a gift from the soldier who had knocked her out when the Star exploded, more than likely. Some men, she thought cynically, just liked to hit her over the head as much as they could.
When he had finished, Star was pushed gently but firmly out into the hall, where a mob of children awaited her, an escort, no doubt. Once they saw her, the younger children began pestering her with questions. Who was she? Where had she come from? Why was she here?
"Are you really a pirate?" Asked the little boy who she had helped earlier.
"Yes," was the reply, "I was born and raised as a pirate, and only when I was captured did I set foot on land for the first time. I'm afraid I might be a little clumsy, for it."
"I want to be a famous navy officer, and kill all the pirates in the world." He announced proudly. "Mama says that pirates kill babies and eat little children. She sometimes says that she is going to feed me to the pirates, but she never really does. But you don't look like you eat children. Do you?"
"No, I most certainly do not. I eat normal food like any other person." She said sternly, "And I hope you don't kill all the pirates. I am a pirate, and so are - were - all of my friends and family." Sadness, pain an loneliness stabbed through her like a knife.
"Yeah, but you must be the only good one. Mama says that you're a criminal and should be thrown to the wolves. She doesn't like you, you know." He informed her, like it was a great secret.
"Matthew, hush!" One of the older girls, about two years younger than Star herself, had decided that the boy had said enough. "Lady." She began uncertainly. Obviously no one had bothered to tell her Star's name.
"Star," the pirate supplied, "and I am no Lady."
"Lady Star," the child ignored her comment, "we were supposed to bring you straight down to dinner. We have a guest who wants to meet you. If you will," She indicated for 'Lady Star' to precede her, all the while glaring at little Matthew, daring him to ask more questions. The boy just followed her meekly.
Star tried to take small steps and tiny breaths, like the maids had told her to, but by the time she reached the bottom of the staircase, she was slightly dizzy from lack of air and her feet hurt with those ridiculous shoes shoved on them. Her hand was stiff from gripping the banister so tightly for balance. The women of fashion must be quite strong, to endure all of this torture without giving in to unconsciousness, Star thought. She had no idea how very wrong she was. In fact, she would soon realize that she was supposed to faint, silly notion as it was.
Here the girl took the lead, showing her to a small but richly furnished dining room. All of the children filed in, the boys sitting of their own accord, and the girls waiting for the manservants to pull out their chairs before they, too, sat. Star was left at the door, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling as skittish as a young colt.
One by one the adults stopped their polite chatter and turned to stare at the tanned girl in the pure white satin dress, her dark eyes flickering around to rest on no one and nothing for more than a moment. The gouged bruise on her right temple was shockingly obvious against her golden skin. Above that, her shiny black hair was arranged in a grand coiffure, a glorious ebony crown atop her head. The tiny strands that had been allowed to escape framed her smooth, heart-shaped face in charmingly gentle curls, as if in slight disarray, and her deep brown eyes were narrowed in high awareness.
Unlike many women of England, Star was tall and lithe, her catlike posture indicating perfect balance, gained with no little effort on the highest prows and masts of her father's beloved ship. Her perfectly unblemished skin was offset by the glowing gown she wore, the sleeves trailing delicately below her strong wrists. Rather than washing away her color, as it would have on other girls, the dress showed off her foreign origin, hugging her curves. Her bosom was pressed up by the rather small gown, a large part of her inability to breathe, although to all appearances, she was completely unhindered by this. She had a figure that made all of the older girls in the room sigh and turn green with envy. Truly, Star looked like a gorgeous goddess, not the rough pirate she was. Ex-pirate, anyway.
With all of those eyes upon her, Star only wanted to sink into the ground. The Duke - Arthur, Star reminded herself - patted a chair beside him. On the other side of that chair sat two men whose looks proclaimed them father and son. The older man had a dignity about him, a quality that Star did not fail to recognize, for her own father had it too: leadership. The son was handsome, as far as young English lords go. His pale blond hair was slicked back, his doublet handsome. Star could find nary a fault in his appearance. Yet she saw something in his eyes, a look of complete arrogance and, for a moment, a combination of lust and greed. It was a look that made her instincts scream danger, and she felt that this man was cruel, evil, someone to avoid, and to watch very carefully. Well, she was forewarned.
Star walked over to Arthur and bowed slightly in acknowledgement to him and his lady, then turned to sit in the chair the younger lord had pulled out for her without a word. The court manners her mother had made her learn had stuck, apparently, although no one had thought they would, with Star forever running about like a wild child.
"Lord Thomas Bingham," Arthur introduced the older man, who nodded at her, "Lord Geoffrey Bingham," The young man lifted her hand to his lips, letting it linger there overlong. Star winced inwardly, desperately wanting to yank it back in disgust, but she held firm. "This is Lady Star, the newest member of my family." Star murmured something polite - she didn't know what, but it seemed to satisfy the others.
"And such a charming addition she'll make." Geoffrey said. His eyes never left hers, and she was hard put to pull her own gaze away from his pale blue one. Star bristled at the implication that she was no more than goods delivered at the door. Next the presuming upstart would be checking her teeth and lines, as if she were a filly for sale! "She was - ehm - a pirate, you say?" He spat the word out as if it were a swear. "Her parents, too, no doubt." The scorn in his voice was evident.
By this time, Star was shaking with fury. Standing up abruptly and ignoring the low screech her chair made as it was thrust backwards, she backed away, her hand going to her sword - or to where it would be. The lack unnerved her, for she had never been without a weapon aboard the Dawning Star.
"You dare! I'd challenge you to a duel, sir, had I a sword." Her voice trembled with the force of her wrath.
"Miss Star, that will be enough!" Arthur's voice was shocked. "A lady does not challenge another, much less even handle a weapon. You are a lady, miss, whether you act like it or not."
"Well in that case, they obviously do both, now, don't they? You say I'm a lady, yet I've handled a blade since I was able to walk and talk. How else do you think I was landed in jail? Excessive flirting? Nay, sir. And yet, this - this man insults my lifestyle and my parents in the same breath. The very parents that you damned English murdered not two days ago! And you wish me to sit quietly while he talks about me and my lineage as he would a pretty piece of furniture, in silent agreement?" Her voice was incredulous. "Well, I swear on my God that I will never allow my father's name to be slandered, nor my mother's, without demanding justice in their names. Never!"
"Star, be quiet and listen to me!" Arthur commanded. "It was a tragedy, what happened to your parents, but these are my guests, and while you are under my roof, you will treat them with respect!"
Star's voice turned icy cold. "And when did I ask to be under your roof? You've been kind to me, to be sure, but did I ever request that you kill my family, blow up my ship, and even separate me from the only person I have left in the world? You may ask me to be happy here, to forgive those who have wronged me and my family so, but after what has been done, sir, you ask too much."
With that, Star fled the room, kicking off her shoes as she ran outside. She ran as fast and as far as she could, until she could go no farther. Sinking to her knees, her body shook with silent sobs as she yielded to the unbearable pain that gripped her heart. The tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as she let loose a torrential rain of them for the first time since the terrible moment when the commander had ordered her home destroyed. Curling up against a tree - she had reached the orchard - Star finally cried herself to sleep.
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I am sooooo sorry that it took me so long to post anything. I have been very busy with swim team and soccer and school and homework, so I scarcely had time to sleep! Talk about overload. Anyway, how do you like the very long chapter, at least compared to the others? PleasePleasePLEASE! review, I'm getting sad cuz I didn't get any new ones. That's ok, just make up for it this time! Hope to see lotsa reviews when next I check my email! *grr.* Happy readings! Samli