surely be blue sapphires. Pam placed it on her head and grinned.
'Look, I'm Wonder Woman! Now we just need to find the bullet-proof bracelets!' Gerbald, a dedicated student of American pop culture, laughed. Dore just rolled her eyes to signify 'How much of such foolishness must I endure?' while the Swedes wore the painful smile of wanting to show approval for a joke they just didn't get. Pam tried to explain Wonder Woman and the concept of a super-hero to them in Swedish. She was getting pretty good at the language, but would need a lot more time to really become fluent. Finally, after several long minutes of word searching and gesturing, the bosun and the lojtnant both nodded with the satisfaction of understanding.
'We see now,' the lojtnant said, 'This is just like the sagas from the old days! This woman is as strong as Thor, she can fly like a bird and she has enchanted accoutrements to aid her in battle. It's obvious! Wonder Woman was one of your gods before you Americans became Christians! It's just as in our Norselands where the stories of the old gods still survive in the tales we tell children!' The bosun agreed heartily while Pam just smiled and gave up.
'Close enough,' she said, and remembered to take the tiara she was still wearing off, feeling like an idiot for having it on throughout her lengthy explanation. She held it in her hands for a moment, admiring its sparkling beauty. 'Hey, I know someone who we should give this to. Princess Kristina! Look, it's even in the Swedish colors, blue and gold.' The Swedes clapped their hands at this suggestion. A generous percentage of the treasure, in the form of jewelry, was put aside to donate to the princess's crown jewels, a gift from her admirers. A pang of sadness came to Pam as she thought of poor old Fritjof, and how much he would have approved of such a gesture. Even so, Pam didn't give everything to her patron. There was a certain pearl necklace that called to her in a siren song, and she claimed it without apology. 'I heard there's a party tonight and a girl has got to have something to wear!'
It took another hour to divide all the shares out of the various piles. As Pam had expected, the Swedes insisted that she take a larger portion. Since it was hard to gauge the value of the gems, she took a lion's share of those, figuring that some might be worthless, while others might be worth more than the entire find. She would have to wait until she found a qualified jeweler to find out, and that would likely be a while. Despite her many protests, she ended up with a larger pile of loot than the rest.
'Look, I know you mean well, fellows, but really, I want everybody to have an equal share.'
The bosun listened to her patiently, but his answer was always the same: 'You are the captain, you get more. It's tradition.'
Finally, Pam conceded. 'Fine, but I want you all to know I'm going to use most of my take to help make this colony work. I really don't need this much money for myself. I'm already pretty well off.'
This was met with warm smiles from her companions, which made her feel better about it. Smiling back, she dropped her take back into the chest, locked it, and put the key in her pocket.
The bosun summoned the men. One by one, they filed past the table receiving their share, their eyes bugging at the size of the unexpected windfall. Apparently sailors of the day were not very well paid. The shares weren't really that big; it hadn't been that large a box. Even so, each seemed overjoyed, and thanked her profusely before making way for the next.
When the task was all finished, Pam shooed everyone out of her cabin and fell down on the bed, very much ready for an afternoon nap.
It is better to give than receive but it's lot of work, too.
Chapter Thirty-Three: The Captain's Ball
As the breezes died with the evening calm, the junk was anchored back where it had started, not far from the camp that had been their home. Dore had come back to wake Pam and help her get ready for the party. After some fussing, they stood on the narrow deck outside Pam's door, both dressed in fine Chinese silks. The clothes they had chosen were most likely designed for men, but they had made do, with pleasing results. Dore had found a long skirt which she belted with a sash and a simple tunic top, all in deep reds which suited her well. The tunic must have belonged to a large man as it had plenty of room for Dore's buxom figure. Pam, who was slight in comparison, wore a pair of knee-high black silk pants, a simple white shirt that buttoned at its collar-less neck and a cerulean blue silk jacket ornately embroidered with gold pheasants and cranes, with large gold buttons and teardrop-shaped clasps. She left the jacket open to show off the lovely pearl necklace from the treasure chest.
'Look, I'm wearing the Swedish colors!' she said to Dore. 'The men will definitely approve. Plus, it's got birds!' She felt as if she were sixteen again and headed for the high school's spring dance.
'Really, Pam, these garments are far too fancy for me. I am embarrassed to be seen in them! Tomorrow I shall have to find something simple that can withstand the galley. It would be a shame to ruin such finery as this.'
'Yeah, yeah, tomorrow, fine, but come on, tonight's a party! Live a little! I now know that you do know how.' Pam gave her friend a sly, knowing grin which made Dore blush, took her by the elbow and guided her toward the ladder. At the bottom Dore told Pam to go ahead, she would check on her foolish husband before rejoining her.
On the main deck, the men had placed a long, low table near the second and largest of the three masts. It was covered from end to end with food, a collection of dried meats and fruits found in the galley, fresh fruits from shore and a row of very large fish they had barbecued with spices. The aroma was utterly delicious and drew Pam closer. She thought it might be a mix of garlic, Chinese five spice, cloves and black pepper. Is that sesame oil and a dash of rice wine splashed on, too? Heaven! Pam's mouth watered. The lads had been very creative, indeed; she thought even Dore would approve. It had been a very long time since she had smelled such potent seasonings, and she felt delightfully hungry.
Pers saw her and hurried over. He slowed when he noticed Pam's change of clothes and smiled approvingly. 'You look very nice,' he complimented her, despite his obvious shyness about speaking on such a subject.
'Why, thank you, Pers! You look very nice yourself!' He was dressed in a canary-yellow version of what Pam wore, but without the jacket. The pants were too short on the long-legged youth, riding well above the knees, but he still looked handsome in the exotic outfit. Pam took his arm and gave it an affectionate squeeze. She nodded toward the table 'It looks like you fellows found the galley!'
Just then Dore joined them. Pers gave Dore, the indisputable ruler of all things to do with food, a nervous glance and hurriedly told them, 'We wanted to give Frau Dore a night off from cooking. We men of the sea are not wholly without talent in that arena. I hope you like what we have prepared. We were very careful not to make a mess.'
Dore scanned the table, sniffing warily at their offerings. After a long moment she smiled, finding the sailor's efforts to be to her satisfaction. After all, it was nice to have a night off, and now she need not feel guilty for it.
'It looks fine, Pers,' she told the nervous youth. 'You men have done a good job. I thank you.'
With Dore's approval, Pers immediately brightened and led them to the place of honor, a line of five comfortable-looking chairs placed on a temporary platform raised three feet above the deck. Behind the stage, the clever sailors had hung a variety of flags and banners decorated with all kinds of fanciful motifs, to very festive effect. Pers ushered Pam into the middle seat, which was practically a throne; intertwining serpentine dragons of ebony with ruby eyes and ivory teeth framed a plush velvet cushion in scarlet and gold trim. Found amongst the cargo, it had been undoubtedly headed for some exotic sultan's palace.
The men were still going about their tasks under the watchful eye of the bosun, although many a glance was stolen in the direction of the food. Pam arrived a bit early, but no one seemed to care. She was delighted to see they had all managed to trade their island rags for new clothing from the hold. No two were dressed the same, and they looked more like a band of circus performers than a ship's crew. Pam was smiling at the bustling scene so widely her face began to hurt. She turned to Pers, who was apparently assigned to be their maitre d and asked, 'You got any booze?' Pers smiled his sunniest smile and disappeared from her side in a Pers-sized gust of wind.
He returned shortly with two elegant ceramic bowls garnished with fresh flowers, full of fruit juice and a very healthy shot of what tasted like rum. 'I believe Herr Gerbald called them mai-tais. He says he will be your bartender
