“Why do you think? You’re looking for my father, and I want to find him, too. I want to look the son of a bitch in the eye and tell him I’m his son.”
“He’s probably dead,” I said. “And if he’s not, he doesn’t even know you exist. Your mother never told him.”
“My mother’s dead, t-” He stopped. “Wait. Is she-?”
“She’s alive. She hired me.”
He paused, nervously straightened his clothes. Even in the dark, I saw the emotions warring in his expression. At last he asked, “What’s she like?”
“She’s just… a woman. I don’t think I should be any more specific.”
With a voice like a sad little boy, he said, “She’s my mom. ”
“She’s also my client,” I snapped, painfully aware of how cruel it sounded. This was something they didn’t teach you about in sword-jockey school. The anger had drained from Tew’s face and he looked only sad and lost. Annoyed, I said, “Tell you what, if we find your dad alive, and he wants to see her, you can tag along. That’s the best I can do right now.”
He wanted to make more of it, to go all tough-guy and intimidate me into telling him about Angelina. I could see his muscles tense, but his head at least knew better. “All right. But you better be straight with me.”
“Understood. By the way, did you use your real name when you signed up?” Having a Tew on board might lead to difficulty.
He shook his head. “The name’s Duncan Smith.”
I nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
At that moment, Seaton emerged from the hold and gazed at us with a slow, measuring eye. “Heard a storm was brewing on deck. Everything all right here, lads?”
“Yes, sir,” Tew said, ducking his head and scuttling around me to return to his work. I didn’t try to stop him.
Seaton nodded. I tried to nonchalantly walk away, but Seaton said, “A word, Mr. LaCrosse. Would you join me on the foredeck?”
I followed him, aware that everyone but Duncan Tew watched us. Ahead, the horizon was just visible, a line between the deep black of the sea and the starry mass of the sky. Here the noise of the ship’s passage through the water made sure we wouldn’t be overheard.
“What can I do for you?” I said, expecting to be chewed out for picking a fight with a crewman.
Instead he gazed out at the night and said, “Tell me, do ye know about the history between Captains Clift and Argo?”
“Just bits and pieces. I know it’s why she picked this ship. Why?”
“Captain Clift was Captain Argo’s quartermaster for seven years on both sides of the law, before she left the sea to pursue other interests. In case you don’t know the chain of command, the quartermaster’s main job is to keep the captain honest. Clift did a good job. He would’ve covered himself in sorghum and crawled through a hell of ants had she asked him.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen how he looks at her when he thinks no one’s watching.”
“Aye, I could tell you were a perceptive gentleman. Alas, she did not return his affection, or at least refused to act on it. He very nearly ended himself after she left. At my suggestion, he took the pledge, and stayed cold sober until the day she again appeared before him.”
I waited while he turned his back to the wind, lit his pipe, and took a few deep puffs. “He’s drunk in his cabin right now, Mr. LaCrosse.”
“Good. Not long ago, he was drunk in my cabin.”
“He’s at the edge of the whirlpool and about to spiral down to the monster at the bottom. He’ll be useless to the ship in a week at this rate.”
“I wish I could help.”
Seaton smiled. “Do ye know how pirates choose their captains? It’s by a vote. Every man has a voice, and the captain can be replaced at any time. Usually by the quartermaster.”
“Too bad you’re on the other side now.”
“That’s true. But as I’m sure you’ve sussed out, we’re all still pirates inside. We just channel it in a different way. We get to make our own rules, fight our own battles, live how we like. We just don’t have to fear ending up as a warning dangling from a gibbet at the tide line.”
“That’s how I ended up in my line of work, too.”
Seaton laughed. “Then I can ask you a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Convince Captain Jane to at least treat him kindly, not with that mockery she presents to everyone else.”
I didn’t mention my little chat with Jane. “I don’t think I should get in the middle of things.”
“Aye, that’s a sensible course. But as the man who’s paying for this voyage, you have more than the usual interest in its outcome. If we don’t find Wendell Marteen soon, I fear the captain won’t be up to leading the fight to capture him. And while the crew might follow Captain Argo, there’s a fair number here who know nothing of her, and see only a woman out of her place.”
He had a sure grasp of his crew’s psychology. “I’ll say something to her if I can figure out a way to do it gracefully. How’s that?”
He nodded in appreciation. Then he looked back out at the water. “It’s been a quiet voyage so far, hasn’t it, Mr. LaCrosse?”
“I don’t have many to compare it to, but it has been pretty uneventful.”
“We’ve sighted hardly a ship. Not that you’d know, but we’ve been crossing shipping lanes for a day and a night, and we’ve encountered no one. That’s odd.” He paused. “I think I’ll suggest to the captain that we put in at Blefuscola tomorrow.”
“Where is that?”
“She’s an open safe harbor for all shipping. Neutral ground. We can sniff around, see what pirates are working in the area, and maybe hear some scuttlebutt about Wendell Marteen.”
I grinned at him. “How come you’re not a captain, Mr. Seaton?”
He gestured modestly with his pipe. “It’s not in my nature to carry so much worry.”
The boy Dorsal was asleep in front of the door to Clift’s dayroom. I started to wake him up, but he looked so peaceful, I left him alone.
I looked at Jane’s closed door as well. Seaton was right: Jane was driving Clift incrementally mad, and since this whole trip was on my money bag, I did have an interest in stopping things before they got out of hand. But what could I say? It wasn’t her fault he was lovesick. No one implied she’d led him on dishonestly. And Seaton was also right that she treated Clift the same way she did everyone else.
I slipped quietly into my cabin and shut the door. It still reeked of Clift’s ale, so I opened the porthole. It didn’t help much.
I stretched out on the bunk and stared at the unlit lamp dangling from its ceiling chain. It swayed with the ship’s movement. I felt that weird tightness that comes from impatience and isolation, and spent a few moments taking deep breaths to calm myself. If something didn’t happen soon to break this monotony, I’d go crazy.
The next day, I got my wish.
Chapter Fourteen
Blefuscola rose from the horizon long before we reached it, thanks to a towering dead volcano located in the center of the island. From a distance it looked lush and tropical, but it was deceptive: the green clinging to the volcano’s slopes was mostly moss. It was uninhabited except for the allegedly neutral port on its northern side.
The Red Cow had doffed her disguise and was now back to her old identity. The false cargo crates collapsed
