The Reaper

hot enough, but with all the candles burning the heat was rising. She could also feel a touch of heat from Anthony. Realizing she had angered him by failing to tell of her relations to Caleb, she sought to change the subject to something lighter. With a deft movement of her hand she snapped the fan shut and, using it as a pointer, directed everyone’s attention across the room.

“My, would you look at that?’ Several young ladies who were making much to do over his recent wounds had surrounded Gabe. Most were the daughters of local planters and merchants. To them, Gabe would be the perfect catch. A dashing young officer from a well-to-do family who had already become something of a local hero.

Gabe appeared to be soaking up the attention. His scars seemed to attract more than the usual amount of admiration. For his part, Gabe was doing his best to act the modest, if not reluctant, hero.

“I’d just swoon if I were that age again and a dashing hero like Gabe made eyes at me.”

“Hush, Greta! What you’ll swoon from is that damn corset if you don’t loosen it. You’re already turning pink.”

The little group laughed at the commodore’s remarks to his wife. Then the ladies walked outside to talk, and the commodore went to recharge his glass. As Anthony moved to follow Gardner, he glanced back toward Gabe in time to see one young lass touch the almost healed furrow caused by the pistol ball. As she touched the area, she jerked her hand back suddenly and held it to her breast. It was almost like she’d felt the heat from the pistol ball that had torn a path along Gabe’s temple to the back of his scalp. Yes, Gabe was soaking it up as he should. But Anthony couldn’t help but wonder if Gabe would still be here if the shot had been a little more accurate.

Not one to let their comrade bask in the spotlight by himself, Markham, Earl and Caleb made their way into the small group. After all, Gabe couldn’t handle all these young lasses by himself. He was still healing. Anthony could only imagine the three casting good-natured insults toward Gabe while boastfully bringing attention to their own heroics.

Gardner had returned and offered Anthony a full glass. “What a sight,” he said. “What I’d give to be young again.”

Greta and Deborah had returned and, hearing her husband’s comments, Greta volunteered, “Yes! Young and broke!”

***

After a full evening of festivities, Anthony and Deborah were waiting on their carriage. Buck approached the two, trying not to show his excessive consumption of the commodore’s spirits. Deborah surprised Anthony with her perspicacity when she exclaimed, “Why Mr. Buck. Are you in your cups?”

“Aye, my lady. It’s sorry I am that you’ve seen me in such a state.”

“Well, come on Rupert. We’ll give you a ride down to the quay, and a boat will take you to the ship. You may fall overboard and drown, but at least you won’t fall and break your neck rolling down the hill.”

As Buck was leaving the carriage at the quay, Anthony saw Dagan. He was in conversation with a mulatto woman. She was putting coins in her purse, before reaching into a cage and retrieving out a bird. A large, black bird-a raven. Anthony suddenly felt cold. His body gave an involuntary shudder, and a chill went down his spine. His chest felt tight like his breath was suddenly taken away. In his drunken state, Buck, witnessing the action, volunteered, “Looks like Dagan’s done got himself a pet bird.” Anthony was disturbed; a man didn’t purchase a pet bird at two A.M.

Sounding harsher than he meant to, he said, “Drakkar’s a warship, not Noah’s bloody ark. First Caleb’s damn ape, and now Dagan’s bird.” Anthony couldn’t explain to Deborah or Buck how uneasy he felt after seeing Dagan with the raven. “They’d just laugh and say I’m superstitious,” he thought. But still the feeling remained, like a phantom in his soul. The old servant’s comments were still sharp in Anthony’s memory. “‘E talks to the ravens, sir. Aye, I’ve seen him do it.”

Chapter Eighteen

The Shark returned to English Harbour five days after she’d weighed anchor. Anthony felt an uneasiness lift when the lookout reported Shark’s sighting. Pope and Gabe would be coming aboard soon with their scouting report, so there was no need to signal “repair on board.” For that matter, there was no need for Gabe or Pope to realize how anxious he was to get this rendezvous matter settled.

“Silas!”

“Aye, sir.”

“See if you can get a little chill on some of that hock Commodore Gardner gave me. “There might be an occasion to broach a bottle.”

“They’s a couple bottles in the bilges now, sir. I’m sure they’d be just right for drinkin. I’ll go fetch ‘em meself, I will.” Silas didn’t need to be told what the “occasion” was. He’d heard of Shark’s sighting like everyone else.

Bart had it right enough when he said, “Cap’n’s quite taken with young Mister Anthony.” Silas had only seen Admiral Anthony on one occasion, but the young Mister Anthony looked much like him. Could this be the reason for his master’s feelings? Bart had also made the comment when Anthony had raised his broad pendant: “Us’ll have another Admiral or two in the family, Silas. You just mark me words.”

Dagan had agreed saying, “It’s so written.”

Therefore, as far as Silas was concerned, it was gospel. The only thing that remained was for the correct time to come. Silas never thought to question Dagan about where it was written.

***

It was a bright day. The predawn overcast had eased, then was swept inshore by a “goodly breeze.” Looking over at Shark through his glass, Anthony could make out Nathan Lavery. The midshipman had been spread out among the various ships like everyone else. He was no doubt dreaming of glory and promotion to lieutenant.

“Ready to weigh anchor, sir.”

“Very well, Mr. Buck. Get us underway.”

As Drakkar and her little flotilla beat out of English Harhour, several coastal luggers and the mail packet met them. Anthony was pacing up and down the quarterdeck, deep in thought. No one invaded his private space when he paced. He’d seen the mail packet as did everyone else, but his mind was on the upcoming battle. Would his fate be that of fortune, or would he become infamous? Buck walked to the edge of Anthony’s space and waited to be recognized. He would not break lord Anthony’s reverie.

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Buck?”

“I was wondering sir, do you think they’ll have mail for us when we return?”

Speaking more harshly than he meant to, Anthony snapped, “Maybe Mr. Buck, for those of us lucky enough to return in one piece.”

Buck could see the somber look on Anthony’s face, and knew he was worried. He was worried more for those he was going to put in harm’s way than for himself. However, he was at a loss for words. Bart had been standing close and heard the exchange between Anthony and Buck. He knew Buck wanted to say something, but was hesitant, so he volunteered, “Don’t ye be worrying Cap’n. Lady luck is with us. Why it’s in the scriptures. Dagan done said so.”

“In the scriptures!” Anthony snapped. “Pray tell what chapter and verse, as well as what book would I find this passage?”

“Well, sir, iffen Dagan weren’t yonder with Mister Gabe, I’d ask him for you. I surely would. ‘Course iffen yew’s that curious, we could signal and have him come aboard.”

“Curious?”

“Aye, sir.’’