“More than one,” Jane said.
“Oh, aye, this is the fourth one I know of. The Vile Howl found one; the Sea Dagger found two. Might be more. They’re all locked up in Blefuscola, which is where we’re heading with this beauty. It’s not a prize if it ain’t officially tallied, now, is it?”
Clift noticed that the crew were all looking at us, hanging on Fernelli’s every word. Their growing apprehension at this talk of “ghost ships” was palpable. I recalled Rody Hawk’s comment about their superstitious nature and wondered if Hawk had gained such a fearsome reputation in part because he’d learned to exploit this gullibility. He lost a lot of his mystique with that realization.
“Gentlemen,” Clift said, “I think we should adjourn to my cabin and discuss this in private.” More loudly he added, “Because we wouldn’t any gossip to get started before we knew any of the facts, would we? That would make us a bunch of cowardly harbor hogs, and we sure ain’t that, are we, lads?”
The crew’s halfhearted murmurs of assent were not reassuring.
“Not sure I’d trust Fernelli’s word on this,” a new voice boomed.
Suhonen strode through the crew, which moved aside quickly. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, and he looked down on the little bald man with contempt. Suddenly we could hear the creaking of the yardarms above us.
Fernelli wasn’t intimidated. “Aye, if it ain’t the walking sword arm. Still wearing short pants, I see.”
“And you’re still blaming everyone else for your own misdeeds. Ghosts now, is it?”
“I’ve told the plain truth, you festering tar stain. And anything I did before was wiped clean by my pardon. Ain’t that right, Captain Clift?”
“That’s the law,” Clift agreed neutrally.
“And what about you, you overgrown canvas crab?” Fernelli stepped right up to Suhonen as if he might strike him. “You were the parson’s daughter, I assume? So sweet, bees looked for pollen in your arse?”
“What I did, I did looking right at them,” Suhonen said. “No man had to fear turning his back on me.”
Finally Clift stepped in. “Stand down, sailors. We have a common enemy out hiding in the wave troughs, not striding the decks beside us. Come on, Fernelli.” He gestured toward the hatch. Fernelli and Suhonen kept their gazes locked for a moment longer; then the smaller man walked past Clift and took the steps down into the darkness, his back straight and shoulders back. As we followed, Clift said, “They’re cousins. Sometimes it’s a small ocean.”
We followed Clift down the steps into the hold. As we did, Dorsal the cabin boy jumped aside to let us pass. I winked at him and he grinned shyly back at me, hands clasped behind him in a childish approximation of military at-ease. The others paid him no mind.
Below the deck, everyone was on their feet, and while they didn’t salute the way a naval crew would, there was a sense of respect in their casual nods toward Clift. With ex-pirates, I suppose you take what you get. We went through the crew space into the captain’s dayroom, where he closed the door. With his open cabin to port, there was a nice cross breeze through the portholes. RHIP was all a matter of what you compared it to.
In the cabin we sat on the benches on either side of the short table. Clift retrieved a jug and a handful of heavy wooden tankards, the kind that wouldn’t slide at the slightest swell or shatter if they hit the floor. He poured us each a large portion, then put the jug back in its padded cloth box.
He raised his tankard. “To justice on the high seas,” he said, the official motto of the Anti-Freebootery Guild. We touched our drinks together and repeated the phrase. Clift said, “All right, Fernelli, tell me more about these abandoned ships.”
“I only know firsthand about the one over there,” he said. “We found her adrift off Swedborg Reef, near the great trench where the ocean is fathomless.”
“Who is she?” Jane asked.
“The Mellow Wine, a cargo ship out of Langlade.”
“What’s her cargo?” I asked.
Fernelli looked at Clift, who nodded that it was okay to answer me. Fernelli said, “Bolts of cloth, mostly. Some personal items being shipped. Nothing easily sold.”
“You said some things were missing,” I said.
Fernelli looked at me with unmasked suspicion. “I’m sorry, but I’m still not clear on exactly who you are. Are you a captain?”
“The name’s Eddie LaCrosse,” I said. “I’m a private sword on a case.”
Fernelli looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown feathers. Apparently even ex-pirates looked down on sword jockeys. “What the devil could Wendell Marteen know that anyone could want?”
I smiled. “I’ll ask him when I see him.”
“You don’t seriously think he knows anything about Black Edward’s treasure, do you?” Fernelli looked at Jane. “And this guy’s with you?”
“No, I’m with him. You can talk to him just like you would me, Fernelli. But be more honest.” She winked at me. “He can tell when you’re lying. Eventually.”
Fernelli didn’t seem to like that idea too well, but he accepted it. “All right. The only thing for certain that was missing was the ship’s medicine chest. For all we know, the crew took it with them when they left. And if this had been a lone fluke, we’d have simply taken ourselves as lucky to have the clean salvage. But as I said, there’s been three others that we know of.”
“All missing the same thing?” Jane asked.
“Don’t know.”
“And there’s no sign of who did it?” I said.
“Oh, there’s a sign. A double X carved into the door of the captain’s cabin. But no one knows what it means.”
“When you say ‘no one,’ ” I said, “exactly who do you mean?”
He looked at me now with undisguised contempt. “I mean, me and everyone I know.”
Clift and Jane exchanged a look. Clift said, “I suppose we’ll keep an eye out ourselves, then. See if we can’t get as lucky as you.”
“Not sure if it’s lucky or not. Damn well creepy, that’s for sure. Be more’n happy to get this wreck back to port and my boots back onto an honest ship with no shadows, that I tell you.”
As we watched Fernelli row back to the Mellow Wine, I said, “What happens if we do run across one of those ghost ships?” “We do the same thing the Randagore did,” Clift said. “I’ll assign some men to sail her to port and claim the salvage prize. Although I’d hope that, with two trained investigators aboard, we might get closer to the bottom of things.”
“Only if you pay us,” Jane said. “Right, Eddie?” “Twenty-five gold pieces a day,” I agreed. “Plus expenses.” “Each,” Jane added.
Clift laughed. I looked at the Mellow Wine bobbing ungracefully in the waves and was secretly glad her mystery wasn’t mine to solve. The one I had was complex enough.
And of course, even a blind man could’ve seen where this was leading.
Chapter Ten
When I came on deck the next morning, the sky was cloudless, and the sunlight reflected off every ripple. The heat was already intense, and the ship’s distinctive odors felt renewed and strengthened. Even the breeze that filled the sails seemed muggy and rancid. As my eyes adjusted to the glare, I saw Quartermaster Seaton before me.
“Good morning, Captain,” he said with a jaunty salute.
“I’m not a captain,” I said in what had become our usual morning exchange.
“Any man who pays the bills is a captain,” Seaton replied with his standard half smile.
“Any ships pass our way?”
“A small galleon from Boscobel. Two Ilyrian warships going in for repairs.”
