The Voyage of the Sea Wolf (10 page)

BOOK: The Voyage of the Sea Wolf
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“ 'Tis a childish thing, the way ye think on her. 'Twill pass.”

“Ye want me to leave her? The way ye left him?”

“Ye cannot have her with ye. I will give my word that
she will have safe passage back to where she came from. On this voyage and others I will instruct ye on the workings of my ship... our ship. We will own it together. 'Twill be yer future, William, and a goodly one.”

I pressed my nails into my palms. They were already painful from the sail needle and I felt them cut my skin. If I went out now and confronted the she-wolf, it would be the end of me. There would be no taking me back to Port Teresa. I would be thrown overboard or put off on one of the islands that haunted my nightmares. This was the woman who had killed Herc only because he provoked her. Intended or not, she had not hesitated. She would not hesitate to get rid of me if it suited her purpose.

“Well, do ye have an answer to me invitation?” The captain's voice was almost teasing. I could tell she had no doubt as to William's decision. I knew he would not say “yes” to her. Not my William! He would never abandon me like that. But... to be part owner of a ship like the
Sea Wolf
?

This silence between them was long.

I waited.

At last William answered.

“I will think on it,” he said.

Chapter Thirteen

The captain and William left together.

William did not cast a glance at the cupboard and I told myself that it was because he did not wish to draw attention to my hiding place.

I came out into the cabin, the floor of which was tilted to port. My father's hat on the shelf, Herc's boots, his scabbard had slithered together in a jumble at the back of the cupboard. My legs shook. My mind turned over and over the words I had heard her speak. And his response. “I will think on it.” I would have preferred that he deny her immediately. But that might not have been wise.

The thrashing and smashing from the deck above had become more strident. They have found rum or brandy, I thought, and are already sampling it. I knew some of them would fall from the rope into the sea and be fished out with much laughter and catcalling. They would lie on the deck, singing and drinking till daybreak.

Whatever happens, I must find William.

I struggled back across the rope to the
Sea Wolf
. Skelly was in front of me. He turned his head and asked, “Are you unhurt, Mistress?”

“Yes,” I said. Unhurt outside, bleeding inside.

“ 'Tis hard for ye, yer father's ship,” he said.

I swallowed. “Very hard.” One of the lenses of his eyepiece was cracked and spiderwebbed across the glass. I felt a rush of gratitude for him, for his concern and kindness toward me from the time he first saw me.

It was he who helped me scramble back aboard the
Sea Wolf
now. I looked along the crowded deck. The celebrations had started and some of the men were already in their cups.

Where was William?

I saw him then. He was in the wheelhouse with Captain Moriarity. She is already teaching him the workings of the ship, I thought. There would likely be no written instructions that she would need to read. She had
known this ship and these waters for many years. That information she would pass on to William, the one with whom she wanted to share her life. In the cabin he had spoken again of his love for me, he had kissed me, he had pledged himself. He had told the captain that he would love me forever. I drew strength from the memory. Did he still have my mother's petticoat pressed against his body?

Sebastian was not seated by the sails but I sat and picked up the needle. I had difficulty seeing but I persisted, glad of the pain in my fingers, glad of the pricks of blood that dotted them. The pain removed the anguish in my mind. He had kissed them, these poor ugly fingers, pressing them to his lips one at a time.

Sebastian came staggering along the deck and squirreled down beside me. “Aye, 'twas a grand fight,” he said with much satisfaction. “It exercises the muscles and then the rum soothes them. 'Tis a good arrangement.”

I nodded without answering.

The ship lay at rest on the ocean. The sails hung empty, relieved of their work. But there was pandemonium around us. Rum flowed. Someone had poured or spilled brandy on the deck. It smelled, but not unpleasantly.

Now and then Sebastian scrambled out from under the sail and refilled his mug with rum. I could not see
from where I sat if William and the captain were still together and I could not decide if it was better to know or to wonder.

But then I saw her, alone, walking along the deck, threading her way among the drunken crew. She laughed along with them, accepted a drink from a cup that Frenchy presented to her, ran her hands merrily through her hair, so that it stood up like a burning bush. On her injured hand was a rough wrap. Who had tied it there? William?

“Cap'n be's happy,” Sebastian said. “That's always her way after a battle. It makes her flourish, like.”

“Aye.” That and other matters, I thought.

She was addressing the crew.

“Listen now, ye belly-whackers,” she said. “Drink yer fill. Enjoy yer success. But the morrow it's back to work. We'll be underway afore sunrise. One more day wi' the wind right and we'll spot the
Isabella
. Then there'll be a glittering treasure, ye can lay to that.”

I needed to be alone, away from the deck and the men of the
Sea Wolf
.

“I do not feel well,” I told Sebastian. It was not altogether true but it was a reasonable excuse to leave.

“Have a swig o' this.” Sebastian offered me the cup. “It'll warm yer blood and rattle yer bones.”

“Thank you, but I had better go.”

I made my unsteady way to the captain's cabin.

My mother's brush was still in my pocket. I took it out, pulled the strands of Herc's horrible hair from the bristles, then lay in my hammock, thinking wandering thoughts. If I were a good person I would want William to stay with Captain Moriarity. He would have a life, better than the one with me.

Somehow I must see him and ask what he had decided. Perhaps he would feel it was wiser to appear to agree to her request until we had a chance to escape together. Whatever his plan I had to know. I would seize any opportunity, however dangerous, that came my way to meet with him.

I feigned sleep when at last the captain came to the cabin. There would be no reading tonight. Through lidded eyes I watched her make her usual preparations for sleep. I watched her take the lock of hair from the box and hold it between her steepled hands as if she were praying. I saw her smile and I lay stiff and miserable in the hammock. She must have been imbibing steadily herself for she bumped into the leg of the throne chair and swore loudly when she sloshed water over the top of the washbowl.

She took off all her clothes and stood considering the bowl of water that Gummer had left. I had not seen her naked before and I could not help but admire the long,
strong limbs and smooth back. Medb, queen of the pirates, beautiful and splendid. It was difficult to believe that she was as old as she had confessed to being. It did not matter. The heart-wrenching thought came. It would not matter to William. “Ye will come,” she'd promised him.

She moved and I closed my eyes quickly lest she catch me intruding on her privacy.

She dried herself with a torn shirt, and began pulling her canvas trousers on again, favoring her bandaged arm. Through my half-closed eyes I was aware of how difficult it was for her to step into the trousers. She hopped on one foot, clutched at the arm of the chair and finally sat to pull the trousers all the way up.

Slowly and carefully she made her way to the door, laid her hands on the painted cross, muttered the prayer or whatever the words were she spoke, and staggered back to her bed. She forgot to shutter the lamp.

My heart began to beat so fast it was ready to leap from my chest.

She had forgotten to lock the door.

Soon I heard her snores, fulsome and loud where on other nights they had been gentle.

I slipped out of my hammock and crouched beside it.

Seize the chance, I told myself. Do not let it get away from you.

There were still boisterous noises from the deck but I thought they were less forceful. Many would be already drunkenly asleep.

The
Sea Wolf
drowsed, hushed by the sea beneath her. The light from the lantern cast moving shadows that drifted with the ship, lighting her face, moving across my empty hammock.

I pulled on my canvas shoes, slid my knife into the band of my pantaloons and crossed the cabin on tiptoe. In the bundle of clothing I'd gotten from Mr. Forthinggale I remembered a cap. It smelled of grease but it would do. My hair had grown since the day I had hacked it off with my mother's sewing scissors, standing in the kitchen at home, wanting to be taken for a boy and a pirate. Now it curled over my ears. I pulled the cap down to hide it then stealthily made my way to the door. I touched the cross for whatever reason and turned the handle.

The three-quarter moon gave a pale light. The crew lay, some spread eagled, loose limbed. Some had propped themselves against bulkheads, some were yet half awake, mumbling to themselves, still holding the mugs of rum they had brought from the
Reprisal
. None stirred as I passed.

Where was William?

There were dark blotches on the boards of the deck,
either spilled rum or the urine of men too drunk or too lazy to go to the railing to relieve themselves. There was vomit and globs of spit. The smells made me gag. I tried to avoid stepping in something I did not want to step in.

One man, I thought it was Jenks, sang softly. “Joe Jelly fought a shark, he fought a shark and ate its belly,” he sang. “The shark weren't dead, Joe thought it was....” The voice tapered to a mumble.

There was a gap in the railing and splinters of wood peppered the deck. One of the
Reprisal
's shells had found its mark. I could see the ocean through a small hole in the hull above the waterline. There would be patching to be done.

The moon silvered the sea, moving gently up and down in the sky in tune with the
Sea Wolf
's small motion. In the far distance I saw a shape, low in the water listing heavily to starboard. The
Reprisal
, carrying her dead captain, looking for a friendly cove to careen herself and make repairs. My father's ship, and still afloat.

But where was William?

I looked for the glint of his hair, gilded by moonlight and saw it. He was asleep in a hammock slung between two cannons. My heart filled with relief and I spoke his name but a hand, coming from nowhere, grasped my ankle and pulled me down with a thump onto the deck. A
scream rose in my throat but I squeezed it back. I must not draw attention to myself.

I struggled, my heels thumping on the deck, my arms pulled painfully behind my back.

“Aye. I thought 'twas you,” a drunken voice said. “I know the walk o' ye for I've watched ye plenty.”

Magruder! Magruder, whose lecherous glances and whispered suggestions had tormented me all through the voyage.

I butted with my head against his chest, which was matted with something damp and sticky. Rum maybe, or blood.

“Lookin' for a little lovin'?” he asked. “I came callin' on ye one night but ye didn't open the door. Bad cess to the cap'n. She had ye locked in.” He belched a malodorous belch.

Though he was intoxicated I could tell he was not incapacitated. There was strength in the arms that trapped me, in the legs that clutched around mine. I felt I had lived through this before, on the
Reprisal
with Herc, drunk too, and filled with lust. William saving me.

Magruder was under me and I was pressed against him, my arms twisted behind my back. His foul breath wheezed in my face. Without another thought I leaned over and with every bit of strength in me bit down on his
pointed nose. It was in my mouth. I clenched my teeth on it and felt it, slippery, nauseating. Disgusting slime bubbled through it, as he yelped his pain and every instinct I had told me to let go, to spit out what was oozing into my mouth, but I held on.

“Let go! I'll tear yer heart out.” His voice was hollow, like an echo. He loosened his grip to shove at my shoulders and I pulled the knife from under my shirt and put it to his throat.

It took all the stamina I had left to get to my feet, the knife still shining in my hand.

Magruder groaned and rolled over on the deck. He got to his knees, then his feet. “I'm bleedin', ye vixen,” he snorted, blowing his nose violently onto the deck.

I backed away. I'd seen William, in that second before Magruder grabbed me. He was here somewhere, close, in a hammock.

I saw him then and I took hold of the edge of the hammock in which he lay and almost turned it over. “William, William,” I whispered.

“Catherine?” He was awake at once. “Is this you? What is it? What are ye doin' here?” He was standing now, standing in front of me.

“I came to find you. Magruder...”

“She near mangled me nose. She took a knife to me.
She'll pay for this. I'll see to it she gets the cat. She'll...” Magruder lurched at me but William pushed me behind him.

“Aye, Magruder,” he said. “Ye'll be the laughin' stock o' the ship. Magruder got bested by a woman. He couldn't handle her. He never could hold on to a woman. That milksop! That worm.”

“Shut yer mouth,” Magruder said.

Even in the weak moonshine I could see the trickle of blood running from his nose onto his chin.

“Ye'd do well to tell 'em you got yer nose sliced in the battle, when ye were fightin' like a man,” William said and all the time he was easing me away. And all the time I was pushing around him to get back at Magruder.

“Leave be, Catherine,” William said. “Ye've done enough. I do not think he will talk. He is too prideful to be mocked. Are ye all right, me love.”

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