The Voyage of the Sea Wolf (5 page)

I was trying to use what Miss Grayson had taught as a running stitch, basting torn edge to torn edge.

“That'll not hold,” Sebastian said. “One wallop of wind and it'll tear apart again. Ye have to whip yer stitches, like this.”

He showed me what he had done. “Whip 'em over and over and over, so it'll stay bound.”

I nodded. One inch and my fingers ached. The leather helped, but still I felt the metal of the needle eye dig into my hand. The muscles in my arm throbbed.

I didn't know how many minutes had passed when
Sebastian said, “It's raw work, girl, but it needs done.”

I looked at my fingers. There was no blood, not yet, but already they were bruised and squashed. Tears stung my eyes. I was glad William could not see me, his brave girl, sniveling like a spoiled child. I cut myself a new length of the rope string, attached it to the needle and whipped and whipped and whipped. I reminded myself that this was nothing compared to starving to death on a barren rock island. But there was Turtle Rock and other islands where I could be put ashore again. And on Pox Island I had been with William.

A course to chart and dangerous waters.

I took a second to lick away the first drop of blood on my finger, then started again.

I must work. I must please Sebastian—Sebastian who had the captain's ear.

The captain must not deem me worthless. Always, always, Turtle Island shadowed my thoughts.

The sun was dropping toward the ocean. The sky was red as fire, shot through with streaks of palest pink. It was beautiful, but I had no time to admire it. Needle point in, push with the “palm,” pull it through, yanking and struggling till the thread came after it.

Men spoke to us, or rather to Sebastian in passing. Small wonder he knew everything. I caught whispered words. They told Sebastian their woes or their quarrels, the pain in their feet, arms, guts. Sometimes they shared something amusing that made Sebastian laugh. Not for an instant did Sebastian's needle halt. He sewed and listened and briefly spoke.

Bare feet, dirty and calloused, and legs in frayed trousers filled my line of vision. How I wished William would walk by so I could get a glimpse of him, even just his feet. But wherever he had been given a job to do it was at the other end of the ship.

Mr. Forthinggale came, stopped and said to Sebastian, “I see the wench has recovered. Is she of any use to ye?”

“Aye,” Sebastian said. “She is working rightly.”

“Humph!” Mr. Forthinggale moved on.

A pirate with red shiny corns on his toes jeered, “If ye tire o' her Sebastian, I can keep her busy.”

“Shut yer mouth, Puce,” Sebastian said pleasantly, without looking up.

We both looked up when Captain Moriarity appeared.

I was prepared by Sebastian's order, “Cap'n be's comin'. Leave be wi' the needle and pay her attention.”

“Aye.” I gratefully set down my needle and found myself sucking my fingers as Sebastian had done. My stomach grumbled and though I had been sick I felt the need of food. There would be some sort of night meal. Perhaps I would have a chance to see William.

Captain Moriarity stopped in front of us. “Cate!” she said. “I see you're settling in. Don't be gettin' too comfortable. Lives change.”

“I know that, Captain,” I said. “And I would not call
what I am doing comfortable.”

“Are ye being impudent?”

“No, Captain. Just telling what's true.” Careful, Catherine, I warned myself. Do not be impudent with the captain. I stretched out one leg and rubbed it with my “palm.”

She watched quizzically but said no more to me.

“Sebastian? Ye've seen naught?”

“No, Cap'n.”

She nodded. “I will muster the crew on deck. I want you to inspect them. Be careful. There could be much at stake.”

“Aye, Cap'n. If'n ye think it necessary.”

“It is.”

She made her imperious way along the deck and Sebastian sighed. He stood up and stretched.

“Ye can get in a line with the others though I've cleared ye already,” he told me.

“Can I ask what this is about?” I said.

“Ye can ask. But I have no time to answer ye now.”

Two bells rang and all at once the crewmen were coming on deck from the stern, from the bow, from below decks. They swarmed down the riggings. They came carrying rags and scrub brushes. One even had a squawking chicken under his arm. Under Mr. Forthinggale and
the boatswain's eyes they fumbled themselves into two rows. I looked up and saw the lookout still in the crow's nest. There would be at least two seasoned pirates left in the wheelhouse, the navigator and another seaman. There would be men at the lines should the sails need attention. Cook must still be in the galley. The smell of cooking fish was in the air, making saliva spout into my mouth. The rest of them, I thought, were here.

I recognized Magruder and Bandit and Pork and Skelly and Gabby and Puce and I saw others, not yet known to me.

There was William. The setting sun was in his hair. He was bare to the waist, lean and smooth and golden. My breath caught. I thought about our kisses, how they would start and stop and start again. I though of how his lips were rough and hard and warm. I looked at him and remembered.

“Sebastian will be scrutinizin' all o' ye,” the captain shouted. “Stand where ye be.”

Someone called out. “We did this afore.”

“Aye. And ye'll do it again when I tell ye to,” Captain Moriarity said.

I limped to the line. Did I dare to stand close to William? Should I take a chance? I squeezed between him and the one-eyed man next to him but the man
shouted, “Hey! What do ye think ye're doin'? Ye think 'cause I only got one eye I can't see what ye be's up to? Stand away, Mistress.” His shout became louder. “Cap'n. I caught these two tryin' to be together. I'm tellin' ye, like ye ordered.”

The captain's voice cut into me. “You! Get to the end of the line.”

“Aye, Captain.”

She grabbed my arm. “I'm not goin' to put up wi' any trouble from you. Stay away from him. Or ye'll be off at the first sight o' land.”

I stood perfectly still. Turtle Island. Words jumped in my throat but I closed my mouth on them. I walked with my back straight and my head high to where she directed me. From that distance I watched.

Sebastian made his way along each line, stopping before every man, taking a turn around him in the way he had done with me, shaking his head. I did not see him nod once.

There were rumblings and grumblings and complaining, but no one moved.

The sun had set now and dark, like spilled ink, was spreading across the sea.

Sebastian had checked every man. Was it for signs of cholera? Or scurvy? Or perhaps some other disease?
I did not know. I did not take him for a doctor but perhaps, since he knew everything, he had some knowledge of medicine. I paid attention when he studied William and I was relieved when he shook his head. Whatever he was looking for, William was cleared.

“Finished, Captain,” he said and she leaned down to him.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Could I have been concerned for no reason?” she asked.

“I believe there is no need for ye to be anxious, Cap'n.”

“But what is she after? Us?”

“I do not know. I do not even know that she is.”

The captain seemed to be aware of me for the first time. “I was told ye disgorged yer last food,” she said. “Eat now, then go to my cabin. Gummer will have the lamp lit. I saw ye pummel yer leg. Are they painin' ye?”

“Aye.”

There is a jar of unguent on my table. Rub it on yer legs. 'Twill ease them.”

I was amazed at this kindness. It was unexpected and I felt a rush of gratitude. “Thank ye, Captain,” I said.

“There be's no need of thanks. I want ye ready to work wi' Sebastian in the mornin'. 'Tis not that I care for yer welfare.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” I said.

There was a strong smell of cooking fish. There must have been a good catch. I knew the seas here were full of bonito and mullet, albacore and dolphin. It would likely be a fish stew.

It was a stew, thick and aromatic, plumping in a big cauldron. I straggled toward Cook with the others. Where was William? I couldn't see him in the snaggle of bodies around me. And then I did. He was pushing closer to where I stood, but not too close. He smiled at me and touched a finger to his lips and I surreptitiously touched mine in response.

At the wooden board where the stew was being ladled into bowls, he was two bodies away from me.

“I was caulking the hull up on the foredeck,” he said loudly as if addressing the man next to him.

“Aye. We took a cannon shot there when we went after the
Corsair
,” the man said, sticking his thumb in his stew and licking it. “Needs more salt, Cook,” he called.

“Gi' it back if ye don't like it,” Cook called back.

William had told me where he was and what he had been doing. I would get a message to him in the same way.

“Smells good,” I said loudly, smiling at Cook's unresponsive face. “I was sewing on the sails with Sebastian. 'Twas hard work and I'm hungry.”

I saw William pause.

Cook grunted. “Ye don't need to be tellin' me yer doin's, Mistress. I have no wish to hear. Move along.”

I'm not telling you, you fool, I thought. I am speaking to my love as he spoke to me.

I seated myself on a crate and cradled my bowl of stew. When I leaned forward I could see William.

The stew reminded me of home. Carla, who cooked for my mother, took out the guts and chopped off the heads before she put the fish in the pot with the onions and potatoes. She never added spices. My mother liked plain food, the kind she'd had when she was a girl in Scotland. There were seasonings of some kind in this. Fish heads swam in the grease-filled broth, the eyes still in them, some eyes floating free. If the guts were out or not it did not seem to matter. On my spoon was a fish bladder, or perhaps an octopus tentacle. The spreading dark made it difficult to tell exactly but that did not matter either. I chewed greedily, and drank and drank from my mug of water. I would never get enough water.

Sebastian came toward me, balancing his bowl and a mug of brandy. I recognized the smell. It was the smell in our parlor that mixed with the smell of cigars when my father and his quartermaster drank together after my
mother had retired for the night.

I made room beside me on the crate. “Do you wish to sit, Sebastian?”

He sat next to me, his short legs not reaching the deck.

There was a rough table, not big enough for the whole crew, and seated at it I saw Captain Moriarity.

“She does not eat privately, on her own?” I asked. Somehow, to see her there with the ordinary seamen, did not seem proper.

Sebastian smiled. “She is one of us. She eats with us.” He took a drink, then shoveled stew into his mouth.

“It is good,” I said.

“Aye and the drink.” He took a swig and licked his lips. “Good French brandy, seized from the
Corsair
.”

The man called Puce stopped next to us. “Sebastian?” he asked.

The bowl he held was empty and some of its contents were smeared on the front of his striped shirt. “Tell us what ye was lookin' for earlier? That was the first time on this journey. But she had us do that afore, two cruises ago. Does Cap'n seek to wed one o' us? Are you pickin' out the likeliest 'un.”

Sebastian snorted. “If'n I was, I would never pick you.”

He got a lewd gesture in response.

When Puce had wandered off I said, “What was the
reason for that inspection, Sebastian. Can you tell me?”

He drained his brandy. The green eyes met mine, those listening eyes.

“I will just say that the cap'n, God bless her, be's superstitious. She does not fear much. But she is afraid of evil spirits. That's all ye need to know. Ye should get to yer hammock now and don't forget to rub on that unguent afore ye sleep. I wants ye at the sails by sunrise.”

I had been dismissed. I stood and my legs gave way beneath me. I stumbled and Sebastian caught me before I staggered. “Ye're wore out. But ye'll get used to the work.”

I took a last look at William seated by the captain at the table. She must have summoned him beside her. She could be with him and I could not. If I wanted us both to live I would have to get used to that.

A hammock was already strung between two wall pegs. Who had done that? The one they called Gummer.

The captain would still be at the table, with William and the others. Had he noticed that I was gone? Did he hope to dream of me as I hoped to dream of him?

I found the bottle of unguent and read the label.

RELIEVES ACHES
ASSUAGES PAIN
STIMULATES HAIR GROWTH
EMULSIFIES SKIN

I sniffed it. The smell was powerful but not unpleasant. Before I applied it I needed to find the seats of easement. On the
Reprisal
they had been at the bow, under the red dragon figurehead. I had not seen them anywhere here.

I laid my flute on my hammock and went up on deck. It was true night now. A million stars speckled the sky and the
Sea Wolf
hissed softly through the sea as if she smelled the prey ahead and was following the scent.

I started toward the bow then saw a lone seaman leaning over the railing.

“Can you direct me to the seats of easement?” I asked him.

He stared at me blankly, then laughed, a roaring, raucous laugh. “By heaven, that be's a curious word for it. We just refers to it as the hole. Turn around. It be's back there at the stern, far as ye can go. But there be's no seats of easement girl. If ye want easement ye have to take yer chances.”