Deluded Your Sailors (36 page)

I am sorry to grieve you, Mr Runciman.

Utmost secrecy, Admiral, I understand. For the good of the service. Whatever it takes.

27) THE SURRENDERED PLAIT
C
ANNARD
'
S LEDGER
.

John Kelly, lying in my bed, fingered his plait, which we had shorn against his fever, and which Lacey had instructed me keep: a heavy plait, thick as three clews braided together, but the sight of it unsettled me. Kelly sat up, first hefting the weight of the plait in his hands, then fingering the smooth bumps, and finally plucking out three hairs, burning red, almost orange, like bog grass in autumn. He laid out the hairs on the sheet before him, in idle play, it seemed. But I knew. And Kelly knew that I knew, for he would not have plucked out hairs so for Lacey or Nancy Truscott.

‘I wear them, I shed them, I hide them, but each one, each one I know, and each one I remember. Did he say it to you, too?'

I nearly dropped the water Kelly needed.

Kelly drank, then said, ‘When Cleasby and I brought Finn here to the Hall, for Cleasby to speak with Lacey and ask after prize, you spoke of being shipwrecked here.'

I agreed I had. Kelly tried to sneak a breath past his cough.

‘Runciman asked me to keep an ear out for news of you. Harbour Grace?
Bonny Jane
?'

I nodded.

‘He'd be pleased to see you return, even these many years too late. For on occasion, Cannard, he will seek out the lost. If the lost carry something he deems important. He sought hard after Finn.

Do you know the prize, Cannard?'

‘Gold. Captain Cleasby asked repeatedly after the Benvolian gold.' Kelly smiled and looked more deathly ill than before. ‘I heard of the gold before I'd even touched ashore. Pirates and murderers.'

He got wretched with his cough and rested a while, then said ‘But this pirate, sir, so little truly known, save Benvolio and gold. Then the stories cragged off: Finn took the gold from a ship of English passengers en route to Boston, or stole the gold from a rich woman who took secret passage on a navy frigate, she being an admiral's mistress, on and on it went, as many versions as tongues to tell.'

Runciman (said Kelly) tasked me to bring back his prodigal Kit Finn, his
rara avis
. Runciman quickly told me he valued the lost gold, but he valued something else the pirate Finn carried much more, and by the blood of the angels, I must find and bring back Finn. I did point out the holed logic of this enterprise, for how might we arrest the pirate Finn if we'd found not even a hair of him? Here Runciman corrected me: that master of the Salem sloop,
Kittiwayke
, the sloop
Kindly One
that had run aground at Peter's Rue in the Isles of Scilly: murder and fire on board
Kindly One
, at Finn's hands. More stories: this Matthew Finn, like Runciman's Christopher Finn, suffering an injury as a boy that prevented his full growth.

Runciman plucked a hair from his head, and he loomed over the chart. ‘Lost, taken or killed? No, this one ran. Others longed to go masterless, but this one ran.' Fury. And something else. I might have sworn an oath that Runciman felt some affection for this Finn.

Master or pirate?
Rara avis
or common cur?

Kelly slept nearly two days after telling me this much, slipshod as it was. His fever broke, and he coughed in long wheezy spasms, his lips tingeing blue. New hairs poked out his scalp, and I prompted him to resume his story.

I took a sharp risk (said Kelly) getting you on board
Dauntless
, but I had to speak with you. The balance tipped away from me, and Captain Cleasby took great offense at your presence. Cleasby and I stood at such blind and bitter odds. Our duty had boiled down like flip left too long on the flame, boiled down to but two things: Cleasby and me.

He abandoned me here. He showed me the supposed orders, knowing full well I could not read them, fevered like this. There is no rendezvous, Cannard. He abandoned me.

Kelly coughed again, the wheeze and struggle pathetic, for he could draw but little enough breath in, and that air got trapped in the water on his lungs to bubble and spin like a drowning man desperate to surface. His fever quickly rose, and I got only babbling pleas from him.

Admiral Lacey looked in and shook his head. He beckoned me to him, quietly asking, ‘What has he said?' I responded that the lieutenant had said very little, and Lacey observed, ‘He's closer to your size than mine. When he dies, you can make use of his clothes.

Be a warm coat, if it ever dries out. Tend to him, now. Aurelius be due back in from the water. I'll have him bring more firewood.'

And Lacey left.

Kelly's fever broke in the dark. My bones ached from sleeping in a chair, and the tedium of fetching the water, bringing the pot, washing the face, bore through me like a deepening hole. I resented Kelly for evicting me from my bed, for mumbling nonsense when I wanted the rest of his story, for being sick. At times, as he gazed up at my face, as he felt me pound his back, as I shook him awake so he could finish his story, he resented me. But the story came.

A long chase. The enterprise maddened Captain Cleasby. The surgeon, Hugh Pollard, spoke to me about the captain's state one night. First Pollard mystified me with a treatise on rods and planets, mechanics of orbit and refraction of light. Then he came to the point, saying, ‘The captain hardly sleeps, and he speaks – I think he becomes fearful of you, Mr Kelly, dark fearful. What can you tell me so I might ease the captain's mind?'

I thanked Pollard for his conversation, it being a pleasant diversion, but begged my leave as I had work above, apologizing for there being naught I might do to help him. Then a midshipman came to the door, squeaking of a brawl between the men, so I left the surgeon, who called after me about discipline and duty.

Not far from Harbour Grace, early in the afternoon watch, in poor winds and the pestilence of fog, we encountered a New England sloop,
Seraphim
. Heavily manned and loaded,
Seraphim
sailed low to the water. I had just thought to muse on the ties of trade between New England and Newfoundland when
Seraphim
, sighting us, veered away. I recommended we give chase, for only a guilty master would avoid the Navy so, but Cleasby would have naught but
Kittiwakye
and Finn –
whatever it takes, hey, my man
.

Cleasby even speculated on Finn's stolen gold in the hearing of the men and the Marines. I changed the subject as best I could.

Seraphim
remained in sight, though shrinking; she should be making for St John's or Boston, but she tacked east as though heading for England.
Seraphim, Seraphim
, the name bothered me, for I'd seen it scratched in ink:
Seraphim
, out of Boston, Newman Head of Salem one-third owner.

I wondered if
Seraphim
had got word of our pursuit through Head's agents and took
Kittiwayke
's cargo and crew so that newly-lightened
Kittiwayke
might race ahead.

I did explain this to Captain Cleasby, even whispering that Finn's prize might be stashed on board
Seraphim
, but Cleasby shook his head, saying to me, ‘You can be sure that neither Finn nor his prize are anywhere near
Seraphim
, and
Seraphim
's master goes nowhere near England. He won't cross weighted like that.

Mark me, Mr Kelly, Finn and
Kittiwayke
are near. And it is with Finn and
Kittiwayke
we have concerns, not with goods due in Salem.'

Kittiwayke
had just departed Harbour Grace as we came to sight her early in the first dog watch. She beat northeast, unladen, high and quick. Captain Cleasby gave his orders smartly, we taking every breath of wind we might, and though
Kittiwayke
did dart far ahead in the fog, we kept her intermittently in sight of the glass.

Then
Kittiwayke
slowed, finally stopped, caught in irons.

Clews had come loose, and the larboard sheets flapped. We bore steadily down, and Captain Cleasby ordered the Marines to be at the ready. Then he said, ‘Make Finn damned certain we wish him heave to. Ready the bowchasers.'

We closed in, soon near enough to see shapes moving on deck through the fog.

Cleasby bellowed through his speaking horn. ‘This is Captain Cleasby of
Dauntless.
You will heave-to.

'
Kittiwayke
gave no reply.

My captain gazed on
Kittiwayke
as she slipped in and out of the fog and ordered we fire broad across
Kittiwayke
's bow, the custom of warning. Then
Kittiwayke
shuddered and caught the wind. She was coming about, this being madness. We fired, deliberately missed.
Kittiwayke
's sails filled, and now she picked her course southeast. Spittle threading after his words, Captain Cleasby ordered we aim the guns at the
Kittiwayke
's headsail, where one good hit could slaughter the rigging and cripple the sloop. It risked injury to Finn, whom I must bring back unharmed, but at that moment my concern mattered for naught. As
Kittiwayke
dragged herself into the fog, we fired again The ball fell into the sea.

Captain Cleasby called me aft and, smiling, ordered that we now hug the coast. ‘Go check the notations for sunkers, man.

We've harried him down to Port au Mal. We'll have him, Kelly, me for my reasons, you for yours, and we'll yet see who comes out taker of the prize.'

We pursued
Kittiwayke
hard and smart though the narrows, and we heard her drive into the rocks. Almost all of us sighed at that, for tis a sickening noise. Cleasby ordered grappling hooks out but changed his mind on better seeing
Kittiwayke
's perilous angle.

He could not risk
Dauntless
sinking with her. There were only three on board
Kittiwayke
: Matt Finn, the mate Con Pilgrim and a boy of fifteen, Edward Seward. I felt certain Finn had offloaded crew and cargo to
Seraphim
. Fog impedes hearing much as it impedes sight. Your Admiral Lacey rowed out and demanded parley at the same moment Captain Cleasby yelled across the gunwales to Finn, demanding the presence of himself and his strongbox. Lacey hallooed again, and as Captain Cleasby turned to ask for silence, tall Pilgrim stood behind Finn and hauled his captain back by the shoulders. Finn struck Pilgrim, and he staggered. Then Finn rushed below, very foolishly, and Cleasby ordered me to board
Kittiwayke
and arrest all aboard. Our party easily took Pilgrim and Seward. I hurried below to seek out Finn.

Matt Finn, fugitive, murderer, prodigal, thief. Matt Finn, who knew
Kittiwayke
when I did not, who like myself now stood ankle-deep in cold water, fearful to step heavy to one side or the other, yet descending further, further. A slush lamp still burned where I passed, very low. Silence impossible, I splashed to the captain's cabin. The door, previously damaged by axe, hung partially open.

I opened the door quickly, staying well behind it and fearing a shot.

None came. I peered through the gap near the hinges; Finn, hands shaking, crouched against the sternmost wall, struggled to hold and fire the pistol but dropped it in the water. Black rocks darkened the windows. I thought of an engraving once I'd seen of an adder cornered before a barrel of apples and ready to strike. I ran through the doorway, eyes fixed on Finn's hand, which darted into a coat pockets and came out with a fair-sized rock. Armed now, Finn flew at me like some devil fresh thrown out of hell, slipping in the water and falling hard. Only then did I draw my pistol, reasoning I must return Finn unharmed but could never obey that order if Finn killed me first.

I managed to grab one arm, and by that I yanked Finn close.

Our feet numb and awkward as blocks, we danced slowly towards deck, Finn cursing me out as I'd not been cursed before, inviting me to copulate with a dog at one point. Seeing Pilgrim and Seward under guard, Finn quieted, and I eased my grip. Pistols can misfire, and I had the additional worry of the frizzen getting damp, which would render the weapon useless. Captain Cleasby called across an order, and suddenly Finn broke loose of me, reached for a boot and brought out a dagger. Pilgrim yelled something, and only with me holding Finn from behind and a Marine working at Finn from the front did we get that dagger loose. It fell somewhere, and another knife, hanging off a lanyard, flew off from round Finn's neck. Marines behind them and Marines before them, Seward, Pilgrim and Finn swung over to
Dauntless
. Cleasby ordered Pilgrim and Seward to the brig and Finn to his own quarters for questioning. Finn struggled at this, very strong, like something possessed, Cleasby said. The Marines took aim, and Pilgrim begged Finn to stop. Separated from Seward and Pilgrim, Finn seemed to understand something mighty, and all fight departed. Cleasby ordered Finn bound to a chair. ‘For the safety of all,' he told me.

I interrogated Finn alone, and I kept my questions short and direct. Finn answered some of them, very watchful, confirming facts.
Kittiwayke
sailed for Newman Head's cartel. Finn came from Bristol and was taken captive into Barbary. Men and cargo had been transferred to
Seraphim
. But when I asked why Finn had forced the chase, my prisoner grew sullen and would answer naught more.