Page 10 of Mardon

“Hrmph,” spat the old woman. “I’m no’ goin’ to be pillagin’ and plunderin’ like ye and yer men, stealin’ food for yer crew, Mardon. So, dinna even think I am goin’ to do it.”

“Did you call him, Mardon?” The nun’s head snapped upward. She almost looked a little scared. “So you – you really are a pirate,” she said.

He raised a brow in amusement. “My men and I prefer to be called seafaring adventurers,” he told her with a grin. He’d hoped to make her smile but she didn’t seem to think it was funny.

“Och, they’re pirates all right,” Nairnie blurted out. “Pirates who cheat, steal, and kill.”

It never ceased to amaze Mardon at what came out of the old woman’s mouth.

“Oh!” The nun slunk back into the shadows, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Nairnie, stop scaring the holy woman,” said Mardon in a low voice. “And stop answering when she is talking to me. Where are your manners?” He threw her own words back in her face and smiled.

“Well, it’s true. Everythin’ I said,” answered Nairnie stubbornly, refusing to admit she was being rude.

“Sister Emmaline, I assure you that you have naught to fear,” Mardon promised her. “Neither I, nor my crew, will do anything to harm you.”

Nairnie snorted, and lifted her arm, waving over the serving maid. “Do ye have any whisky?” she asked the girl.

“Whisky? Nay. Don’t even think of it,” Mardon scolded her this time. Then he looked over to the serving wench. “Give her an ale.” He reached out and pushed Nairnie’s hand back down. His grandmother was already being much too boisterous and he didn’t want to have to deal with her when she was drunk on whisky, too.

“Oh, are ye the one who the nun was waitin’ for and who is goin’ to pay for her drink?” The serving girl looked up at Mardon and batted her lashes. Mardon suddenly had a feeling he knew her, too, but just couldn’t quite remember who she was. He’d bedded many women over the years, but never stayed around long enough to get to know any of them. Sometimes, he’d never even gotten around to asking their names. All his passionate nights ended with him leaving in the morning and heading back out to sea.

“Nay, I’m no’ goin’ to pay anythin’. I dinna have any money,” Nairnie said, thinking the girl was talking to her. She gave the serving wench a look that said she thought the girl was daft.

“I’ll pay for both of them,” Mardon offered. “Bring them some food as well. The old woman will also be picking up food for me and my crew to take back to the ship.” He dropped a pouch of coins on the table in front of Nairnie. It made a clinking noise and several coins spilled out. “That should be more than enough to cover all of it.”

Nairnie pursed her lips and glared over her shoulder at Mardon, mumbling something about him calling her an old woman again.

Mardon spotted Aaron across the room, waving him over, trying to get his attention. “Make it fast, Nairnie, because we won’t be here long,” he told her before turning and leaving before she started insisting he call her Grandmother again.

Emmaline watched Mardon hurry away from the table, feeling relieved that he had walked away. If he had stayed there any longer he might have recognized her. She couldn’t have that.

“Blethers,” spat the old woman, taking the pouch and pushing the coins back inside. Then she pulled the strings tightly to close the pouch and shoved the whole thing down her ample cleavage.

“What are you doing?” asked Emmaline. This old woman amused her with her antics. It made her smile.

“We’re surrounded by drunks, thieves, and godforsaken pirates,” answered Nairnie in a crackly old voice. “What do ye think I’m doin’, lass? I’m protectin’ the money even if it was stolen to begin with,” she griped.

“I see.”

The server returned and plopped down one bowl of some nasty looking pottage on the table, followed by two tarnished spoons.

“That’ll be a shillin’ for the food and drinks.” The woman’s palm shot out as she waited for her money.

“A shillin’?” gasped Nairnie. “I could get an entire barrel of ale for that price!”

“A shillin’,” repeated the girl, still holding out her hand. Emmaline had no doubt the girl was charging them much more than she should, since she saw the pouch full of coins that Mardon threw down on the table.

“What is this slop?” asked Nairnie, crinkling her nose and taking a sniff of the contents in the bowl as Emmaline picked up a spoon and wiped it against her robe to clean it.

“It’s pottage. Now pay up.”

“How auld is it?” Nairnie asked.

“Three days at most. Don’t worry. It’s still good.”

Nairnie picked up the other spoon and dipped it into the bowl. Bringing the spoon to her mouth, she took a nibble. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes narrowed. Then her tongue shot out as if the taste displeased her. “I’ve fed better food than this to swine. This isna worth a penny and I’ll no’ pay ye anythin’ for it.”