The Voyage of the Sea Wolf (8 page)

Again our cannons boomed.

“Do ye surrender?” Captain Moriarity called.

This time the answer came. “Devil take ye for a passel of mangy curs. We'll fight till the end. Come and see if ye can lay hold on us. We'll be ready for ye.”

There was a cheer from the
Sea Wolf
crew. It was evident that there was nothing they liked more than close conflict.

The men threw grappling hooks and pushed and shoved to be among the first to board the
Reprisal
. Shots spurted around them as they clambered across the rope. I saw blood on Puce's shoulder but he kept going along, hand over hand, not knowing or not caring that he had been hit. I saw the captain, swarming ahead of the others, shouting threats as she went.

I tucked my pistol in the band of my green pantaloons
along with the knife and my flute. There would be no need of my flute but I was never comfortable if I was parted from it.

Ahead of me, Sebastian grasped the rope with his arms and legs like some kind of a great ape.

I saw William.

How strange it was that he and I were going back on the
Reprisal
and in such a way. We had left it in a longboat, doomed never to see it or those in it or another living being ever again. He saw me and shouted, “Stay away from Herc. If'n he sees ye he'll kill ye.”

I did not need to be told.

“You, too,” I shouted.

The crossing was formidable though short. The two ships rolled in the water, one tilting up on a surge, one tilting down as if playing some sort of child's game. The rope was slippery and rough to hold on to and the men in front and behind jerked on it with every movement. One man fell off with a splash into the trough of a wave below. I thought it was Pork.

None stopped to look how he was faring. Perhaps he could swim but it was unlikely.

Behind me someone shoved and yelled, “What are ye waitin' for? Keep moving, wench, or I'll knock ye down to the sharks.”

I got to the end of the rope and pulled myself over the side, onto the
Reprisal
's deck.

There was such a hubbub, such noise and screams. Hand to hand, cutlasses flashing, the fighting had started.

On the port side of the ship, water sloshed through the hole in the hull, running in dirty streams along the slant of the deck. The crosswise timber suspending the mainsail hung at an angle and the canvas sagged, pulled down by its own weight.

“Careful above,” I shouted. “The sail's going to fall.”

Nobody looked or answered.

I moved away should it crash below.

I had left my shoes behind on the
Reprisal
the better to have a purchase on the rope and now I stood barefoot in frigid seawater that was slurped pink with blood. My foot touched something red and slimy. Sickness rose in my throat but I held it down, reminding myself that I was a pirate captain's daughter and a pirate myself now. And this was what pirates did.

The crew of the
Sea Wolf
went wild. They tore open the hatches, cut apart bales and trunks with their cutlasses. What they had no use for they hacked to pieces and tossed overboard. They swore and invoked the devil and called upon different saints and laughed like maniacs.

Captain Moriarity was among them making no
attempt to quell them, joining in the mayhem.

And all the time the
Reprisal
canted lower in the greedy sea that sucked at her deck and carried with it anything that floated free.

I recognized many of my father's old crew, those who had mocked me and spat on me and pushed me off to a certain death on Pox Island. But now I had only pity for them. They were huddled in groups like whipped dogs, making halfhearted attempts to protect the ship and themselves.

One of the
Sea Wolf
's men shouted, “There be's barrels o' gunpowder below. Come on,” and I saw William, following some of the others, helping to heave the barrels of gunpowder to the side to be transferred to our ship.

“Are ye all right?” he shouted to me.

“Aye. And you?”

He nodded.

I had a moment's confusion. They were transferring from my father's ship, the ship I had dreamed of all my life, to this other ship that was now “ours.” But with Herc as captain, the
Reprisal
was no longer mine. With Captain Moriarity, I did not know.

Sebastian lurched along the deck, slicing at legs with his boarding axe. When he saw me he shouted, “I be's good at this. They never looks down until I've about
chopped their legs out from under them.”

At that minute I got my first glimpse of Red, my old friend from the
Reprisal
. His fat belly was bare, the ginger hairs on his chest matted with blood. He was fighting and swearing. “Ye maggots! Ye plague-infested bilge rats.” I had no time to hail him for I was being attacked from the side by Mr. Trimble, quartermaster on the
Reprisal
. He raised his cutlass above my head but when he did I spoke his name. He stared in disbelief then lowered the weapon. “You!” he said. “How can it be you?”

I did not answer and he stood, stupefied and still staring.

And then I saw Herc. I had forgotten he was so massive a creature, obese and greasy. Hercules, shortened to Herc. He stood motionless in a corner by the bow, his back protected by the bulwark behind him. When he saw me, he took a step forward and stared in disbelief. His shirt was torn, the rag around his head soaked with blood. “Are ye a ghost, ye sorry wench?” he stammered.

“Aye, I am the ghost of Pox Island, come back to take my revenge,” I said. It was a glorious moment to see how his face paled. I jumped forward and grabbed his hair that stuck out above the head rag, putting my knife to his throat, forcing him down on the deck. The putrid smell of him, the stench of blood and sweat sickened my nose.

All around us was chaos.

Sebastian had come, panting, beside me. “This is the hog-faced bottom feeder what put ye off?” he asked. No need for Sebastian to lean over to stick his face next to Herc's. One half-lying, the other standing they were on the same level.

“Finish him, Cate, or I'll do it for ye.”

“Hold off!” Herc shouted. “I am captain of this ship and I demand to speak wi' yer cap'n. 'Tis me right!”

A small bunch of the
Sea Wolf
's crew, wheezing and gasping for breath, had moved to mass around us and there was Captain Moriarity, her eyes red as coals.

“I am captain of the
Sea Wolf
. Put up yer knife, Cate.”

“Cate is it!” Herc said in a disgusted voice. “Let me up, ye besom!”

He rose shakily and straightened his shirt. “From the sound o' yer voice I knowed ye to be a woman!” he said, glaring at Captain Moriarity. “A woman's got no place.”

“Hush yer mouth,” Captain Moriarity growled.

“I know who ye are! I heard o' ye. Ye be's the one they calls the She-Wolf o' the Caribbean.”

“Aye,” Captain Moriarity grinned her she-wolf grin. Her nose wrinkled. “What is that foul odor? 'Tis not a fightin' stink.”

“It is him,” I said. “Herc. Ye could smell him from ship's bow to stern.”

Herc pointed his thumb at me. “This wench is nothin' but trouble. Her and the scurrilous puppy she took up wi' on me ship.”

“Your ship?” I could not stay quiet. “My father's ship. Never yours, though you took it over as captain when he died.”

I sensed Captain Moriarity beside me, felt the heat of her, heard her labored breath. Blood ran from a gash on her arm over her hand, the hand that held a cutlass.

“What did the wench and the scurrilous puppy do to ye?” she asked. Her voice was dangerously quiet.

“She lied and deceived, sayin' she was a boy and the rotten puppy aided her. When I gave him the just punishment of the cat she thwarted it. She stopped the lashin' afore it had right started.”

He spat at my feet, the spittle floating off in the blood and water that coursed along the deck. I fixed him with a hatred-filled stare remembering for an instant the day of William's lashing, the long, braided tails of the cat o' nine tails cutting down on his back, Mr. Trimble's arm rising and falling as he leveled the punishment. It had been raining, I remembered.

I swallowed to ease the burn in my throat. How I had
longed to help William. How I had loved him.

Herc was still talking.

“Ye knows, Cap'n, that orders must be obeyed. She defied me. I made the right decision to get the both o' them off of me ship and that order was carried out. By me kind grace they were given food and water to keep them livin' for a few days.”

“Aye. I can surmise how much food and water ye gave them.” The captain wiped her cutlass on her trousers and examined the blade. “I have no disagreement wi' ye ordering' punishments,” she said. “My crew must obey me at all times. Me authority is absolute. But I will tell ye, 'tis yer bad luck that I've taken a likin' to the young 'un.”

Not to me, I thought. There is no liking for me.

“Oh aye,” Herc leered. “I hear tell old women likes 'em young. I hear tell it makes them feel young again theirselves.”

“Shut yer mouth,” William yelled. I hadn't seen him come up to stand at the back of the others. But his words did not come in time to stop those of the crew who had heard Herc from tittering and nudging one another. I saw them exchange winks and grins.

Herc scowled and pointed at William. “Ye be's a worthless dog.”

He leered at Captain Moriarity. “The boy's a worthless
dog, I tell ye, and not worth your notice. Ye need a man around, not a whelp like this 'un.”

How foolish of him, I thought. She is the vanquisher, he is the vanquished. Why does he not know to be quiet?

Captain Moriarity moved so fast that I had time only to see the flash of the cutlass, hear Herc's short squeak before he fell to his knees and toppled over. I heard the gurgle of his breath leaving him.

We all stood there, silent, looking down at his lifeless body.

“
I
meant only to teach him some respect,” Captain Moriarity said.

“ 'Tis too bad, but perhaps no great loss.”

“Shall we throw him over or leave him be?” someone asked.

“He will be left for the crew of his own ship. Beg pardon, Cate. Of yer father's ship.”

I tried to hide the shock I felt, not only because of Herc's sudden death, but because of Captain Moriarity's ruthless action. He had insulted the captain and he had spoken ill of William. And he had paid a terrible price.

I would not wish this death upon my worst enemy,
I thought, and he was my worst enemy. He was the one who happily planned a slow, painful end for William and me. But he was gone now and if I could not forgive I could show some deference for the dead. And what of his terrible, odious brother Hopper, who had been as villainous as he?

“He has a brother on the ship,” I said. “He's...” I glanced up at the familiar frightening sound of Hopper's wooden leg tapping toward us.

The tapping stopped.

Hopper looked down at Herc then knelt beside him, his crutch sticking out behind him. He gently pushed the hair that was thick with blood away from his brother's face. Whatever words he whispered were not discernible even through the silence of the pirates gathered around us.

Perhaps there is love in him, I thought. Until now he has kept it well hidden.

He looked up. “Which of yez did this?” he asked.

“I did,” Captain Moriarity's voice was strong and untroubled. “I listened to him with the courtesy of one captain for another. But I found him offensive and without respect for me or my crew. I exercised the just right of the victor.”

Hopper crawled himself up. “Aye, 'twas was yer right,”
he said. “ 'Tis my sorrow. I will care for him. No one else must touch him.”

I had never imagined I would see Hopper dignified. But at this moment he was.

It was William who stepped forward and asked, “Ye need help to lift him, Hopper?” and it was Hopper who become his true self and spat at William. “Not from you, ye turncoat. This was your ship.”

“Aye.” William gave a short laugh. “I'm a turncoat who was sentenced to death by you and your brother. I owe ye no loyalty.”

The heat was out of the fighting. There were just the sounds of scattered shots and men's voices raised in anger or mockery.

Mr. Trimble stepped forward—Mr. Trimble, false friend to my father and my mother. I could hardly find it in my heart to look at him. He had had the chance to speak up and save William and me when we had been in mortal danger and he had kept silent.

“Captain Moriarity,” he said. “There is disarray amongst the crew of our ship. We have no captain at this time. There are two men in need of burying. We ask leave to surrender and will be grateful if you will spare our vessel.”

“Done,” Captain Moriarity said breezily. It was as if
Herc's death had never happened though the body lay at our feet.

How could she so easily dismiss it? Because she was arrogant and merciless and a pirate captain, I thought. I had known before that she had these attributes. But now I had seen them for myself.

I glanced at William. She would be merciless with us. She had told me once that her namesake, Medb, Queen of Connacht, fought for what she wanted. “As I do,” she'd said.

I had no doubt that this Queen of the
Sea Wolf
wanted William.

Captain Moriarity ordered what plunder there was aboard the
Reprisal
to be collected and made ready to be transferred to the
Sea Wolf
.

“We got the gunpowder already,” the boatswain, whose name I didn't know, told her.

“Well get whatever's of use to us and you men take whatever you fancy. Ye fought well.”

There were barrels of grain and flour and salt set in a pile for the longboats. There were casks of wine and a few hens. There was salt pork and dried beef.