(37, continued)
On the eastern point of the island, a compound of much larger huts and houses had been constructed that took up nearly as much space as the fledgling village. It overlooked its own private stretch of beach on one side. On the other, its largest hall had been built atop repurposed longboats and floated out over the lagoon, accessible only by a suspended rope-bridge. A flag fluttered from the roof on a pole just taller than that above the fort.
Ostensibly the compound’s grounds could only be reached by boat, with more palisades lining the shore. But the water beyond them remained absurdly shallow and Aubert simply stepped around.
Within the compound he found a pair of long storehouses, unlocked and packed with their naval provisions, the foodstuffs stolen from prizes, and all the meats and produce gathered from the island itself. He glared through a few windows and saw large, comfortable bedrooms fashioned from purloined trade-goods: Aubert recognized the ornately carved bookshelf from a whale-ship he’d captured three months before. Some of the officers he’d left behind lounged in the beds or makeshift divans, looking slovenly and rather doughier than he remembered. One dozed with a half-finished plate of roast boar perched atop his stomach.
There was a long dining-table at the center of the compound under an awning of palm fronds, littered with stolen chinaware. A woman sat unconscious in her chair, head on the table beside two empty bowls. Aubert recognized her as the wife of a whaler who’d defected, but he did not recognize the distended belly protruding above her grass skirt.
The sound of singing drifted out of the floating house. Aubert straightened his jacket and marched over. The bridge creaked under his boots.
“Messieurs,” he growled, kicking open the door, “you will explain this lunacy at once.”
Captain Adams jerked awake. He lay swaying gently in a hammock, wearing only snug breeches and his uniform jacket. A round, hairy paunch jutted out from the open jacket and it creased as he struggled to sit up. “Whass…”
Hermes Allen looked up from his easel. He, at least, wore a voluminous silk robe that covered his bulk. His canvas showed a highly detailed painting of a woman’s lips, glistening, with some exotic sauce dribbling from one corner.
“It’s Aubert!” realized the painter. “Welcome back, friend.”
“Happy hunting, I hope?” asked Adams, scratching his stubble.
The Frenchman glared. “Captain Adams, I—”
“Admiral. Admiral Adams, now, given how well we have done for ourselves. Admiral.”
“Adams, what is all this?” He waved around the room. Stolen artwork covered the walls, dozens of bottles hung from the ceiling on twine, and a clutter of dishes, fruit rinds, and fishbones covered the floor.
“Why, Aubert, it’s our dream. Don’t you remember? It’s what we came out here for. We’re finally masters of our own domain, just like you wanted. And I’m using that opportunity to give myself and Mrs. Adams the life she deserves. She’s earned it.”
“Earned it?” Aubert scoffed. “Has she done something besides lie about in a stupor, doing nothing but eat, sleep, bathe—”
“No, and it’s perfect!” sang a voice.
Aubert turned, filling with dread.
A palm curtain at the back parted and four powerful, shirtless seamen carried a broad litter into the room. Mrs. Adams lounged atop it, sipping something pungent from a coconut. She wore only leaves and jewelry and the entirety of her girth was on proud display. Her oiled stomach gleamed in the torchlight and seemed to slosh to and fro with the sailors’ every step. She rocked back and shuddered with glee, setting her gold jingling and her gemstones clinking.
“It’s everything I…I never even knew I wanted.” The queen patted one of the seamen on his head and the litter came to a halt. “All those years I…I starved myself for those cruel women back home, when I could have…when I could have been…when I could have been feeling like this!”
She drained her drink. She rested her head back, let the coconut fall to the floor, and sank her hands into the plush folds of her belly. Full though it was, it had little roundness to it, instead only sagging further and further out through its lower rolls as she grew. Her enormous backside propped her up as high as any of the stolen pillows behind her; its cheeks and her blubbery, uneven thighs bulged over the edges of her platform.
Mrs. Adams had, since coming to the island, swelled to eclipse even Mr. Allen’s frame. She had achieved this in so relatively short a time not only by regularly devouring everything in sight until she grew ill, but also by moving as little as she could possibly contrive.
She was nowhere near too heavy to walk under her own power, but refused to travel more than even a few steps without being carried. Plates had to be delivered within easy reach and by the end of larger meals she expected to be hand-fed. Her servants fanned her, dressed her, bathed her, pleasured her, and entertained her.
All luxury goods made their way to her; all the silks, all the precious metals and stones, all the furniture, all the art. All the private stores were hers to enjoy, all the new dishes hers to experience in abundance: braised sea-cucumber, grilled eel, baked ray, shrimp fritters, sauteed sea-snails. Captured ships’ masters were forced to watch while she gorged herself on their pork and drank down all their wine.
The queen was always stuffed, rarely sober, and endlessly demanding. Few on the island had escaped her impatient temper.
She belched and clapped. “But you’re back, captain! Welcome. We missed you. Did you bring any…more presents? Oh, I finished all the pineapples you brought last time and would so love more…Zephyra? Zephyra, get the captain something to drink.”
The harried maid appeared from behind her litter, wearing only a few strips of cloth. She had lost another stone of weight, if not more, and her face was pure exhaustion. “What would you like, sir?”
He waved her away. “Not now. Gentlemen—”
“I’ll have more, though,” Mrs. Adams declared. “Zephyra, my coconut is empty. Urrp.”
“You…have had quite enough, madame.”
She rolled over to face Aubert. The men carrying her winced and stumbled at the sudden shift. “I will have more,” she assured him. She jabbed a finger at him, missed, and tried again. “I will always have more. I am going to…to keep having more…and more and more. Next year it’ll take six of these men to car—hurrp—carry me around. And I’ll still want more. I’ll want every…everything I want. I am…I am your queen!”
Aubert watched her loll back to her more comfortably reclined position. He gave each of the men carrying her a long glare until each met his gaze. “Put her down.”
She blew a raspberry and tossed a loose bundle of leaves at him. But the litter descended. The men set her on the debris-strewn floor and backed away.
“What? No. I…you can’t. Guards…oof…guards, come back here and—”
“Be silent,” spat Aubert. He turned to Captain Adams. “I have wreaked havoc across this ocean. Traders are afraid to cross the Pacific. There is panic in the markets. Have you done anything in my absence to further our endeavors and frustrate our enemies? Have you done anything save debase yourself? Why are our other ships idle in the harbor when they should be helping me hunt?”
The captain shrugged. “You’re such a capable corsair on your own. I…we…”
“Adams, I fear a Spanish galleon full of gold could float within a cable’s length and you would lack the wits to go aboard.”
Mrs. Adams giggled. “Like when that little boat went by last week. Urrp.”
Aubert bristled. Captain Adams paled. “She doesn’t know what she’s…she’s…”
“Adams, tell me you did not allow a ship to sight this island and go free.”
He sputtered. “The Mrs. and I…we were…it was…I was so comfortable and everyone was so tired from the party…”
Aubert drew his cutlass. He hacked at the rope holding Adams’ hammock and with one clean stroke sent the captain crashing to the floor. Mrs. Adams wobbled with laughter.
Allen stepped out from behind his easel. “Aubert, please. You’re right to be upset. But my dear fellow, we’ve found some happiness here. You can’t begrudge us that. Please don’t take it all away.”
“Keep it all,” Aubert sighed. “You may keep your dinners. You may keep your luxuries. You may keep all your intemperate, insobrietous, indefensible gule.” He sheathed his sword and glanced out at the lagoon. “But I am taking command.”