He turned slowly, first his head and then those enormous shoulders. If you could awaken a mountain, I suspected it would move like that. He said nothing, but his right hand went to the cutlass at his waist. In the light from the sunset, he was already the color of blood. Great omen.
I kept my hands loose at my sides. Beneath my feet, the deck rolled in a steady rhythm. My stomach trembled a little at the movement; must’ve been a touch of seasickness.
“What do you want?” he said.
“I hear you’ve been talking about me. I’d like to hear what you have to say.”
“Why?”
“I’m paid to be curious, so sometimes I do it just to stay in practice.”
His expression grew dark. “Where’s your sword?” he rumbled. “My cutlass does my talking.”
“I don’t need it. I’m not here to fight with you.”
His friends backed away.
“What if I’m here to fight with you?” he challenged.
“Then you’ll die,” I said as simply as I could.
“That’s big talk for an old man with no weapon.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “You should think really hard about what kind of weaponless old man would say that kind of thing.”
I wasn’t as tough as I implied, but I was better than Suhonen thought. As he pondered my comment, though, I did begin to wish I’d brought my sword. Still, I was betting that under the bluster and hurt pride, he really didn’t want to fight me, he just felt like he had to. I needed him to realize he didn’t.
“What’s going on here?” Quartermaster Seaton said, barging in between us. “Suhonen, are you causing trouble?”
“No trouble,” I said, never taking my eyes off the big man. “I was correcting some of his misconceptions.”
Seaton showed no fear of the larger, stronger man. “Is this about this afternoon? Grow the hell up, Suhonen. No matter how good you are, there’s always somebody better. Fact of life, on land or sea. Even for you.”
“I’ve got no fight with you, Suhonen,” I added. “If you have one with me, let’s settle it now.”
The moment hung there long enough for the last edge of the sun to drop below the horizon. In the fading glow Suhonen said at last, “Nah. I just… I don’t lose many fights. I don’t have much practice at it.”
That was fair, and honest. I extended my hand, and he shook it. With a little extra effort, he could’ve shaken all of me. But if I read him right, we were back on the same side.
Seaton hmph ed in annoyance. “Well, unless you two are going to get married as well, I’m going back to finish my dinner.”
I felt Jane behind me, nudging me with the jug of rum. I took it and poured a round for Suhonen and his friends. When I returned the jug to Jane, she felt its weight, scowled, and said, “That’ll be on my expense report, you know.”
Just after solid nightfall, a cry of “All hands on deck!” rang out. I left my cabin and followed Jane through the hold, where we joined the line of crewmen going up the steps. On deck I saw no immediate reason for the order, but seeing the entire crew mustered in one place drove home again how crowded the little ship really was. I thought how ironic claustrophobia was in the middle of the wide ocean.
“What’s going on?” I asked Dawson, the ship’s carpenter.
“Time for the show,” he said, then added proudly, “I built the props, you know.”
“Show?” I repeated to Jane.
“A ship’s crew has to entertain themselves at sea,” she said. “I always made sure we had three good musicians aboard. Without it, all that downtime can be deadly.”
A row of lanterns were lit along the front edge of the quarterdeck, and a curtain made of old sailcloth was strung across on a frame. The men sat or stood, some climbed the shrouds, and a few perched on the fake cargo crates. A spot was reserved for Jane and me right up front, with Captain Clift. I sat between them like a chaperone.
Seaton stepped out in front of the curtain. He clutched the lapels of an officer’s jacket and puffed out his chest. He said, “We have a surprise for our employers to night. In honor of their quest, and ours, we’d like to present a short production of The Wake of the Bloody Angel, composed by-” He bowed. “-yours truly.”
The men clapped enthusiastically, and some chanted, “Black Edward! Black Edward!” Several men raised their knives above their heads and tapped the blades together in a chorus of metal clacks. One man, a red-faced sailor with a cap and voluminous sideburns, was already so drunk, he didn’t even notice he’d dropped his knife, which stuck point-first into the deck between his feet. He still waved his hand among the knives, and miraculously avoided any slashed knuckles.
Seaton held up his hand for silence. He cleared his throat and in a booming orator’s voice said, “Oh, for a spark of lightning, that would inspire the highest heaven of creation. The wide ocean for a stage, admirals to act, and captains to cheer the rolling scene! Then would the great Black Edward stand before us for true, and at his feet, snapping like sharks, should slaughter, heartbreak, and avarice crouch in readiness.”
He paused, and the crowd cheered and clicked knives again.
Impressed, I leaned close to Jane and asked, “He really wrote this?”
“Shh,” she replied.
He gestured behind him. “Now, lads, let us claim your imaginations. Envision on this tiny deck the great Bloody Angel, and its legendary captain, Black Edward Tew, sailing his very first course as captain.”
He stepped aside, and the sail curtain drew back to reveal an actor dressed, presumably, as Black Edward. He wore a black wig that lagged behind whenever he turned his head, and so needed constant adjusting. He stood at a makeshift prop wheel and gazed dramatically into the distance.
“Tew” said, “Here I stand on the deck of the Bloody Angel, master of my fate. Somewhere on the sea before me lies the first ship I will conquer as a member of the Brotherhood of the Surf-” Here a few cheers made him pause. “-and the first step on the path that will take me back to my beloved as a wealthy man worthy of her. Then, by heaven and ocean, we shall claim an island and live like royalty!”
I looked around. My shipmates were rapt.
“Captain Tew!” a sailor playing a sailor cried as he rushed onstage. “We have sighted a simple cargo ship. Shall we raise the black flag?”
Tew turned his profile to the audience and pointed his chin. “We shall, but make certain no member of our crew strikes the first blow. If they do not resist us, we will not harm them. We are after plunder, not blood.”
“Plunder not blood, aye,” said the sailor before rushing off.
Tew paced before the prop wheel and struck a pose, fists on hips. “I crave plunder only, for back ashore awaits a girl who has claimed my heart as sure as I will claim this ship’s gold. Even now she strides the desolate dunes as I do this quarterdeck, hoping to glimpse my sail, and whether it be now or doomsday, I will return to her a rich man.”
This soliloquy was followed by the sailor’s return. “Captain Tew, the ship’s crew dares to fight back! What shall we do?”
Again more to the audience than to his fellow actor, Tew said, “If they dare to draw steel, then steel they shall draw! Arm every man, and tell them it shall be-”
He drew his sword, raised it aloft, and cried, “Gold, glory, or the cold embrace of the sea!”
The audience, including Jane and Clift, shouted the line along with him. Many shook their fists or waved weapons in the air. At that moment, I wondered how many really considered themselves ex pirates.
The sailor followed Tew offstage, and the curtain closed to end the scene.
Men rustled behind the curtain, and when it rose again, it showed a captain’s cabin. Tew sat in a chair, while another actor, hands bound, stood between two “guards.”
Tew said, “So, Captain. You have fought, and you have lost. Now we will take what we wish, and send your ship to the bottom of the ocean.”
“Pirate dog!” snarled the actor playing the other captain; he was a much better performer. “You do not know from whom you steal!”
Tew leaped to his feet and again stood with his hands on his hips. “I do not care from whom I steal! The
