with fresh mugs of ale or rum. I felt a twinge of professional annoyance- Hey, I can buy drinks for sailors, too — when I heard her loudly blow her nose. I listened without being obvious about it as she said tearfully, in a voice so demure, I had to check twice to confirm it was her, “Thank you, sir. Thanks to all you gentlemen. I just don’t know where else to turn. I’m at the end of my rope.”
Most of the men were too young to have known Angelina back then, but a couple were wizened with age and experience, and they regarded Jane with clear compassion. I ordered a drink and settled in to eavesdrop.
“It’s been a long time since this place was the Floating Coffin,” one of the younger men said. “My pappy mentioned it back before he died, but that would’ve been, oh, twenty years ago.”
“That’s about right,” Jane said. “She was my much older sister. I was a sunset baby, you know.”
“Was she as pretty as you?” another sailor asked, masking his lasciviousness with a gentle tone.
“Oh, sir, you’re being kind,” Jane said. “Brandywine was very pretty. All the boys liked her.”
“I knew her,” one old man said suddenly.
“You did?” Jane said hopefully. “When?”
“Like you said, twenty years ago. We just called her Brandy, but I remember her. Beautiful girl. Had a smile that could guide a ship through a storm. But…”
He trailed off. Jane prompted, “Please, sir, continue. I must know, no matter how bad it is.”
The old man looked down at his hand on the tabletop. He was missing his middle finger and pinkie. “I dunno, I’m speaking out of turn.”
“Oh, come on, Racko,” one of the younger sailors said, “you can’t stop once you’ve started.”
Racko sighed, pushed back his cap with his intact hand, and took another drink. “All right. Miss, I’m sorry for what I have to tell you, but it’s the honest truth. Your sister had every man in this port under her spell at one time or other.”
“So she was a whore?” Jane asked, playing the hurt perfectly.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant ‘spell’ literally.” He took another drink and this time looked up at the ceiling before he said, “She was a witch.”
Silence fell over the table. In the back of the room something crashed, and I heard the grunts of a close-in fight. No one, including the men with Jane, paid any mind. They all stared at Racko, waiting for more.
At last Jane asked meekly, “Are you sure?”
Racko pulled out a pipe and packed it. Another man passed him a burning stick from the nearby hearth so he could light it. One thing about sailors: they respected a good storyteller. Everyone waited patiently, an island of calm and silence in the crowded tavern, while Racko got his thoughts in order.
At last Racko looked directly at Jane. “Do ye know the tale of how your sister got her name?”
I tensed. The old man was testing Jane’s story before beginning his own.
“No. My parents barely spoke of her.”
That wasn’t good enough for Racko. “Seems odd they wouldn’t tell you.”
“Not if you knew them,” Jane said, her tone conveying secret knowledge of her mythical parents.
“Either swim or drown, Racko,” another man said.
“Yeah, you got us all wound up, now drop anchor and offload your tale,” another added.
Racko sighed and took a long drag from the pipe. “All right, here’s the tale. Seems her parents- your parents-were coming to Watchorn Harbor on a merchant ship when they were captured by pirates. Old Captain Cloche, to be specific. Ever heard of him?”
Jane shook her head.
“The fright affected your mother, and she had the baby even as the pirates were taking the ship. When Cloche saw the woman had just given birth to a daughter, he told her that he’d release the ship with no harm done if she’d name the girl after his own long-lost mother. So they did. And that’s how your sister got the name Brandywine.”
Jane began to silently cry, and smiled through the tears. “Thank you, sir. I didn’t know that story.” She dabbed her eyes. “But please, what of Brandywine when she worked here?”
I fought the eye roll that built in my head. What of Brandywine? Jane was laying it on thick.
Again Racko took a puff before continuing. “Your sister never suffered for attention. I know, because I tried to catch her eye, too. I was old enough to be her father, but many seafaring men had young wives. She was kind to me, but she made it clear I wasn’t the one for her. She treated us all equally, and kept us at an equal distance. Look all you want, but don’t touch, she said with her eyes.”
“So she wasn’t a whore,” one of the young sailors said, trying to follow the subtleties.
“No, she wasn’t,” Racko agreed. “But she used herself to gain favor and fortune, just the same. A beautiful girl can get a drunken sailor to do pretty much anything, including part with his gold and make him glad he did it. Some say she used more than her beauty, as well.”
“I can’t believe she was a witch,” Jane said.
Racko blew a puff of smoke at the ceiling. “Perhaps not. Beauty is its own witchcraft. But in either case, one day it didn’t matter any longer. Because he walked in.”
“Who?” another sailor asked.
“He was young, handsome as the very devil who makes the tides, and she saw at once he was the one. Everyone else knew it, too. They fell for each other with a crash that could be heard for miles. At first we all thought he was just another sailor, but in time we learned the truth.” Again he paused for a puff. He sure knew how to hold an audience. “He was Black Edward Tew.”
The sailors exchanged glances. Jane played dumb. “Who?”
“Black Edward, the pirate?” one of the younger men asked.
“Aye,” said Racko. “The very one.”
“Did he… kill her?” Jane asked, her voice trembling.
Racko smiled without humor. “Hardly. He wasn’t yet a pirate when he arrived, but he was hers from the moment their eyes met. They set up in a cottage out on the dunes. Everyone knew they weren’t married, but they carried on like they were, if you get my meaning. Then one day, he was gone.”
“Where?” another sailor asked.
“Back to the sea, to find his fortune,” Racko said. He patted his stomach. “But he left something behind here in Watchorn.”
I was in mid-sip, and almost poured ale all over myself. Angelina kept a lot of her past hidden, but at no point had she ever mentioned children. She was the least maternal woman I knew.
“She had a child?” Jane asked, and her surprise was also genuine.
Racko nodded. “A son. The spitting image of his father, too, so there was no doubt who sired him. But I’m getting ahead of my story. Brandy continued to live at the cottage alone, but she had to come into town eventually, and by then there was no hiding her condition. Watchorn was a lot more strict back then, when the Captain’s Federation still had power. They liked all the improprieties out of sight, including barmaids knocked up by passing sailors. But she paraded about with no shame at all. So she was arrested and thrown in jail.”
“Wait, they locked her up just for being pregnant?” one of the young men asked.
Racko smiled. “It was a different time, lad. A woman living out there alone was suspicious enough. The Captain’s Federation, especially the Wives’ Auxiliary, had a low opinion of women not legally bound to a man. But to be so brazen as to publicly carry a child without a husband, that just couldn’t be tolerated. Next thing you know, women would be owning businesses and commanding ships.”
A couple of the younger men chuckled nervously, watching Jane’s reaction. She just listened.
“As I said, I don’t know if she was a witch,” Racko said. “I suppose it’s possible Black Edward would’ve turned pirate anyway, whether he’d met her or not. But the fact remains he was an honest seaman before, and a notorious blackguard after. Make of that what you will.”
“So did she die in jail?” Jane asked timorously.
“No, she didn’t stay in jail. The rumor was that her witchcraft was so powerful, no cell could hold her. But I think it was more likely that the warden’s deputies-young men, sailors who through accident or inclination no longer wished to serve the sea-simply felt sorry for her and kept letting her slip out. The Federation, of course, insisted she cast spells on the lads, and the boys probably went along with it to keep their jobs. She escaped three times, and each time she returned to her cottage. She was terrified of being taken away from the sea before Black Edward returned. And then she had the baby.”
