"How many?" Pierre's reverie was interrupted by the cook. It was his turn. The ladle was poised to serve up the pork. "Hurry up, I don't have all day."
The scowl brought a hurried "Six," from Pierre. At lunch, one group went hungry when they angered the cook. Life would be miserable for a week if Pierre caused George to miss his meal. The cook dropped five pieces into the bucket and passed over a full loaf of bread. The cook gave a snort, "Enjoy the bread, it's the last fresh thing you'll get this trip. From here on it's strictly biscuits"
Pierre didn't budge and held out his bucket. "That was only five pieces, I said six!"
"Don't get in a dither. One piece was bigger than the rest. It counts as two. Now if you want extras, they'll cost you."
Pierre looked at the meat. One was slightly larger than the rest, but two were smaller. The sly look on the cook's face gave away the game. If he could skimp on the servings, he could sell the leftovers and no one would be the wiser. It was going to be a long voyage so Pierre made up his mind quickly to stop the scam now. He crowded the cook and said, "The captain said no lying about portions, or we'd be on half-rations. Maybe I should call the officer on watch and see what happens to a cook who shorts a passenger?" Although a head shorter than the cook, he shoved the bucket into the cook's gut to emphasize his point.
The cook backed off and quickly served up another piece of meat. "No need for that. It's a long voyage and the captain wants everyone treated equally." The watch officer was staring at the group to see if trouble was imminent.
Pierre decided that he didn't need to be identified as a troublemaker by the officer so he simply added a last, quiet, comment. "More like the cook wants to skim a little extra for himself. I'm going to pass the word so folks watch you closer." Pierre glanced back over his shoulder as he headed down the ladder to the cabin where his friends waited for their meal. The officer had returned to his previous work. As he reached the bottom, he stumbled over the step that wasn't there. The gloom down below was a sharp contrast to the evening sun. He got his bearings from the argument still going on at his table. He passed a sentry on the way. It was one of Captain Reneuf's men. He paused to chat, but one whiff of the pork and the sentry turned green, stuffed a hand over his mouth and raced up the ladder. Even down below, Pierre could hear the faint sounds of someone getting violently sick over the ship's side. He walked over to the table and set the bucket and bread down.
Phillipe pointed with his knife in the direction the sentry had left. "What did you do to that boy? One look at you and he ran off.!"
"I think it's more like he hasn't got his sea legs and he smelled the pork," Pierre laughed, but then turned serious. "We need to watch the cook. He tried to short me some meat and wanted a bribe to make it up."
Phillipe slammed his knife into the tabletop. "Just like I was saying! Those stinking thieves need to have something done to stop them. If we don't, we'll all be bond servants by the time we land!"
"I know what you think, Phillipe. So does most of the ship." Pierre pointed to the vacant spot where the sentry had stood. "You keep up your loud complaining and someone's going to report you. Maybe they even have already. Reneuf's a good enough sort that he might overlook it. Most others won't." He waved toward the sentry's previous location. "Why do you think he's here? The captain's worried that something might happen."
"And if it does, so what? We Huguenots have always had to fight for our rights. There's enough of us on this ship to do what needs doing. Or are you scared?" Phillipe tried to stare Pierre down.
"You're a fool. The captain's word is law on a ship. What you're hinting at could be called mutiny. The answer for that is a rope. Even if we initially succeeded, there's still the rest of the fleet. We'll get through this trouble. They can't get any worse. Just wait until we land." Pierre pulled out a short knife and started to serve out the meat. "With all the land where we're going, it will be easy to practice our customs without someone watching our every move." Phillipe sat down, but still kept grumbling. Pierre noticed though, that when the sentry returned, his friend kept his voice low.
****
Captain de Bussy's problems had just gotten worse. Bishop de Perpignan sat in front of him waiting for an answer to his request. De Bussy toyed with a writing quill and knife trying to find a way out from the dilemma the bishop had presented him. As a good Catholic, he could not deny the bishop's request to hold a mass each Sunday. As a ship's captain, it was the last thing he wanted to do. With a ship full of Huguenots, only a few of the ship's crew would attend mass voluntarily. The bishop knew that and was pressing for forced attendance. With tensions already running high, it could be the trigger for a mutiny among the passengers. With a sigh, he placed the quill and knife back in the desk drawer and squared his shoulders. He was responsible for the whole ship and his own soul. He would imitate Solomon and divide the baby. "Your Grace, I will allow a sermon, but it will be done before I hold my weekly talk with the crew and passengers. There will not be enough time for a complete mass. That is the best I can do."
"Captain, I must protest! The heretics must be made to attend a full service. I demand you let me hold a full mass!" De Perpignan was a firm believer in the principles of the Inquisition, and secular issues held little merit in his view.
De Bussy stood up and glared at the bishop. His answer was measured, with barely suppressed rage. "Your Grace, on this ship, I am the only person that may demand anything! Be satisfied with what you've been given. This is the second time you've been told. Once more and you will regret the result. You may go." He rang a small bell and his clerk appeared. "Escort the bishop to his cabin!" The clerk gently took de Perpignan by the elbow and showed him out. He had heard the entire exchange. By the next morning, the entire ship knew what the bishop planned.
When Sunday morning arrived, the settlers and crew gathered for the captain's speech. The seas were running high and held the promise of a coming storm. Many of the settlers remained below, with seasickness as their excuse. Some of the children frolicked on deck, enjoying the limited freedom. Captain de Bussy stood on the aftercastle, trying to gauge the temperament of the crowd gathered below. In his twenty years of sailing, he'd never had a hint of mutiny aboard a ship he commanded. Today he had his doubts. He'd posted extra idlers at the stern, out of sight from the crowd gathered below, just in case of trouble. Other ships in the fleet had reported minor problems, but his Grande Dame was far and away the most troubled. He heard a commotion forward and saw the basis for most of his problems pushing through the crowd in full priestly raiment. The fool just couldn't recognize the seriousness of the situation! The richly appointed Catholic garb was sure to anger the Huguenots. At least his two priests following him were dressed plainly. He nodded to his bosun. The squeal of the pipes brought everyone's attention aft.
De Bussy stepped up to the railing. "It's always been a tradition on my ships that I addressed the entire company on the first Sunday of the month. We are sailing to a new land, where a fresh start awaits all of the settlers in the fleet. We are crowded on all the ships, but with three commonsense rules, we should all reach the new land safely. First, any order from a ship's officer must be obeyed without question. They have years of experience at sea and know what's best in any situation. Second, food and water are sufficient for the voyage, but must not be wasted. What we have must last! And third, follow the eleven commandments." He paused, waiting for the inevitable question.
One of the settlers in back called out. "Eleven, I thought there were ten?"