by Meg Caddy
I looked over my shoulder, towards our own bow. The Kingston sped ahead of us, sails all out. I told myself they’d never leave us behind. If this ship caught us, Calico would come back.
‘What signal are we looking for?’ I shouted.
The Kingston gave me my answer. Through the darkness I saw the skull-and-cutlasses flag rising on the mast: an act of defiance, a challenge. It felt like a love letter.
‘Fire!’ Corner shouted. Sedlow prepared to light the linstock as the prow dipped and we rose in the water.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Wait!’ We needed the right moment, but Sedlow ignored me. There was a small flash as the slow match lit; I jumped to the side. The swivel gun shot back, the sound punching right through me. My ears sang. I dragged my head up. A miss. The shot went into a wave, skipped once, and fell short.
‘I told you to wait!’ I snarled but my voice was tinny and hollow in my own ears and I couldn’t tell if Sedlow heard me. There wasn’t time to argue. We cleaned the bore, then wadded and primed the gun again. I rammed her and turned to Sedlow. He was already preparing to light again. I lunged across the hot bore and grabbed the linstock out of his hand.
‘Red-headed Irish bastard!’ he bellowed.
‘Well, yes,’ I muttered, readying the linstock as the waves turned the ship beneath us. I waited. Held my breath. Then the stock ignited and the flare of light was brilliant. Moments later the ship tipped again and the gun jolted back. I knew we’d hit before I even saw it. I sat back on my heels and cackled. Fire and smoke blazed the dark night and shimmered off the sharp waves.
The wind took in our sails and we pulled ahead while the ship on our tail struggled and smoked.
‘Another!’ roared Corner. Sedlow grabbed the linstock from me while I rammed the gun again. Whatever blow he struck or failed to strike now, we’d done enough damage to slow our hunters. The shot rang a third time, glancing off the starboard side of the other ship. A hit, but not a good one.
‘That’s enough!’ Corner waved at me to get up. I scrambled to my feet and over to him. ‘Help me jettison the ballast!’
‘What?’ I dug into my ear but it didn’t do any good.
‘We’re going over a sandbar!’
Calico Jack liked his ships the way he liked his women—small, nimble, and preferably stolen. The Ranger and the Kingston both had a shallow draught; so long as they weren’t hauling too much weight they’d clear a sandbar much more easily than any man-o-war. It would buy us precious time. I ran to the companionway and dropped to the lower decks. We pulled up barrels and ballast from the orlop, careful to balance it so we didn’t upset the delicate harmony of the ship’s motion. Then, with help from Sedlow, we hefted them over the side. Ahead of us, the Kingston skipped on through the water, almost scudding ahead of the wave. I could faintly make out the sandbar as they passed over it, the smooth flow of the water illuminated briefly by the ship’s lanterns.
‘Steady, Isaac,’ Corner cautioned. Isaac’s shoulders were bunched, his feet planted on the deck. He was an oak, somehow grown tall and strong in the midst of shifting soils. The enemy ship was dropping back fast now as they struggled to deal with their damaged bow. I leaned on the railing at the stern and watched her recede as we glided smoothly across the sandbar.
‘Bloody brilliant,’ I breathed. Then a surge of nausea hit me. I buckled and retched over the side of the ship.
5
BONNY
By morning the man-o-war had disappeared from sight, but Jim Dobbin and Noah Harwood pestered me about my battle-shakes long into the day. Dobbin and Harwood were the next two youngest on the ship, twenty-two and nineteen, so they enjoyed having someone younger and smaller to push around. They thought it a real tickler that I couldn’t seem to keep anything down.
Isaac didn’t find humour in the situation. He haunted the deck, standing silent on the helm with a troubled expression on his face.
‘What, Isaac?’ I asked. ‘We won, they’re nowhere to be seen, it was a great success. What’s the problem?’
‘I know those colours,’ he said. ‘I know them but I can’t remember who sports them.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It might.’ He scraped a hand over his shaved head. It was a hot day already and tracks of sweat gleamed on his neck. ‘You look like a kicked dog,’ he added grudgingly. ‘Go get some rest.’
I rolled my eyes.
‘Any other man would leap at the opportunity for a shorter watch,’ he said. ‘And he wouldn’t normally get it, not just for battle-shakes. But you did well last night. This is why the captain keeps you on the guns, Bonny. You’ve a good eye, an instinct for it.’
‘I don’t have battle-shakes. I’ve never had battle-shakes. It’s just a bad stomach. Something I ate.’
But I wondered. I didn’t know why I’d reacted that way to the chase. Maybe because for the first time, Calico hadn’t been there to watch my back. I didn’t want to rely on him like that. It felt like a weakness.
‘Happens to everyone sooner or later. Nothing to be ashamed of. Go below and sleep.’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of when you’re built like a house,’ I retorted. ‘I’m the smallest man here, Isaac. I can’t afford to have people think I lose my stomach at every snap of arms. Besides, I’m not tired. I’m bored, actually.’ I was tired but more than anything I was anxious to stay out of Sedlow’s way. He was down on the orlop deck taking stock of our supplies. Normally I wouldn’t have minded starting a little something with him but not when I was feeling this way.
‘So you want me to give you a job?’ Isaac asked.
‘Try me.’
‘Go clean the heads.’
My eyebrows shot up. ‘Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke about me cleaning the shit-holes? Well, hell, maybe they killed us last night after all and I’ve gone to heaven.’
‘Let me be more clear. Go anywhere else, do anything else, bother anyone else.’
I glanced at the rigging. Dobbin and Harwood were up there, larking around. The thought of their humour made my head ache.
‘I think I’ll stay here,’ I said. ‘How long until we anchor?’
He sighed. ‘Come here,’ he said. I went to stand at his elbow. ‘See those islands? Used to be turtle fishermen lived there. But there was some raid by the Spanish and the settlements are abandoned now. Mostly abandoned. Good place to stop and careen. We’ll be there a few days, if captain says so.’
‘Do we have enough food for that?’
‘Depends. How do you feel about eating giant lizards?’
We dropped anchor in the snug bay of one of the islands. I itched to see Calico again, to find a quiet place and spend some time in his arms. It would give me a chance to get away from Sedlow, too. I felt that man’s eyes on me all the way from the ship to the shore. He hadn’t said a word to me since the night before. I had bested him twice, once about the bilge pump and then again on the guns. He wasn’t going to forget it.
The men who had worked the Kingston came out to greet us: they had landed an hour or so before. They strode out onto the beach and helped to haul the jolly-boats, tying them off to rocks and trees as we exchanged tales of the night’s pursuit.
‘Who fired the second shot?’ Old Dad asked.
‘Harwood,’ I replied, and grinned as everyone goggled at Harwood for a moment. ‘Me, you gulls. No one’s going to let Harwood on the guns. He’d sink our own ship.’
‘Brat.’ Old Dad snorted and tossed my hair. ‘You’re a good shot though, Bonny. Saved our arses back there.’
‘Yeah, except then he lost his dinner—’
I elbowed Harwood in the ribs before he could finish running his mouth in front of the whole crew. ‘Except nothing,’ I said, speaking over him. ‘I’m a big damn hero. Where’s the rum?’
‘Keep Bonny away from the rum. He’s bad enough sober.’
I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched as Calico strolled down the beach towards us. It always caught me by
surprise, the way I found myself pulled towards him. I folded my arms and made myself hang back as the others flocked around him. The crew had their moments of malcontent but they liked Calico. He made them feel noticed. Stronger. Funnier.
I waited until there was a lull before I approached him. ‘Captain.’
‘Bonny.’
We didn’t say anything more but I felt promise in the exchange. I grabbed my pack from the jolly-boat and took up a small barrel of salt under one arm. I wanted to walk beside Calico but he had Corner at one elbow and Isaac at the other. Instead I walked by Old Dad.
‘You’ll get extra pay for that shot,’ he said. ‘Corner’s a good quartermaster and he believes in giving credit where it’s due. Besides, captain will be happy to see Barnet eat some powder.’
‘Who’s Barnet?’
‘The pirate hunter. That was his ship. No one told you?’
‘No one knew. Isaac said he recognised the colours but he couldn’t remember who they belonged to.’
Old Dad whistled between his teeth. ‘Figures. Isaac’s never been foul of Barnet before. When you’ve been around as long as I have, though, you’d know the Albion anywhere. Jonathan Barnet’s her captain and he’s a hard bastard. Loves King and Country, hates pirates. A gut-deep hate. He actually asked for the commission to hunt our like. I heard Edward Teach murdered his cousin.’
I snorted. ‘Edward Teach has murdered everyone’s cousin, if you believe what you hear.’
‘Don’t take it too light, boy. It was a fine thing to see Barnet take a hit but he’ll be back on our arses at some point. I’ve known too many good hearts dancing the hempen jig. I like your pluck, but I’d hate to see you swinging from a gibbet because of it.’
‘Have you been talking to Isaac?’ I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. ‘If Barnet comes after us again he’ll get more of the same. I’m not afraid.’
‘That’s what concerns me.’ He sighed. ‘Go on, Fetherstone and the lads caught some turtles and they’re making stew.’
‘No giant lizards?’ I had half-believed Isaac—only because he wasn’t much given to jesting.
‘Keep your eyes open, you might see some yet.’
I was about to reply when something clouted me from behind. I went sprawling and caught a mouthful of sand. The barrel of salt rolled away from me.
‘Sorry,’ grunted Sedlow. He had a small knot of men with him and they snickered as they passed. I stood, feet sliding back in the sand. Old Dad clamped a hand on my shoulder. He knew Sedlow better than most—as the two lead carpenters on the ship they were supposed to work together. Most of the time though, they were in conflict. Sedlow thought it was beneath him to work with a former slave.
‘Careful, lad,’ Old Dad warned as I clenched my fists. ‘You don’t want to start something you can’t finish.’
I sat myself between Dobbin and Corner when we reached the campsite. There was already a good fire going and I helped myself to some fish stew. Fetherstone and Old Dad were arguing about the best way to cook a turtle, while poor Paddy Carter actually did the cooking. Harwood had the turtle shell and was beating out a rhythm on it while other crewmen shot him irritated glances. I grinned. Harwood drove the other lads wild, always talking and fidgeting. The only one who didn’t seem to mind was Dobbin. The two acted like brothers, though they could scarcely have looked less alike. Harwood was fair and freckled, tall, rangy, whereas Dobbin was swarthy and slight. It was rare to see one without the other’s company.
‘Bonny.’
I tipped the last of the stew into my mouth and lowered my bowl to look at Calico. He was on his feet.
‘Come back to the ship,’ he said. ‘We’re going to have words about the way you left my damn cabin.’
I tossed my bowl aside and stood. ‘I didn’t touch your cabin.’
‘Exactly.’ He clamped a hand down on my shoulder and steered me ahead of him. ‘Before you stepped off the Kingston I told you to take a holystone to the boards and bring those scrapes right down. Imagine my surprise when I go back in the cabin to find…’ He trailed off as we drew out of the crew’s earshot.
‘What a performance,’ I drawled. ‘You could give up this life of crime and take to the stage.’
He grinned. ‘Why would I? All the pretty women chase pirates.’
‘Urgh.’ I glanced over my shoulder several times as we went, ensuring we had no unexpected company. ‘How was the Kingston? Looked like a sweet sail from where we were.’
Calico’s face opened up, boyish for a moment. ‘She was,’ he agreed. ‘I suppose you want me to thank you, for pushing us to take her.’
‘That’s not the only thing you ought to thank me for. We’d both be gallows-bait for now if not for me.’ I caught a glimpse of his wry expression through the darkness. ‘I’m just saying, Barnet has a big smoking hole in his bow right now and I’m the one who put it there. He might even sink.’
‘Don’t get too hopeful.’ But he was laughing and as we walked down the beach he took my hand. ‘I missed you.’
‘Prove it.’
He swung to face me and pressed his lips against mine. He tasted of brandy and salt.
‘That’s nice,’ I whispered, trying not to lose my thoughts to the wind. ‘But not what I meant. Let me back on the Kingston with you when we take to sail again. If I have to look at Sedlow’s ugly mug for another leg of the voyage I’ll go mad.’
‘Do you ever stop…’ He sighed, searching for the word. ‘Scheming?’
‘I’m not scheming.’ I unlaced his shirt. ‘I’m thinking ahead.’
‘I’m starting to feel you’re a dangerous kind of woman.’
‘Mhm. Good.’ I laughed and caught his hands before they could wander. ‘So?’
‘What? Annie…’
‘So, if I sail on the Kingston with you, you won’t have to miss me.’
‘Just…hold steady until we reach Cuba. Can you do that for me? Keep your head down, don’t sink the ship, and try not to get yourself murdered.’
‘You don’t want me?’ I stepped away from him and grinned as he threw up his hands in frustration. ‘You don’t want me. That’s all right. I understand. Maybe I’ll see if Isaac’s lonesome, seeing as he and I will at least be on the same ship.’
Some of the humour slipped out of his voice. ‘Fortunately for you, Isaac’s not that way inclined.’
‘Really?’
‘Don’t ask him about it. What Isaac does with his shore time is his own business and he won’t thank you for sticking your nose into it.’ His eyes locked with mine. ‘Would you really go to someone else? Someone else on the crew?’
‘Like who? Harwood? Sedlow? Fetherstone? Rest easy, Calico.’ I leaned in and let my lips brush his jaw. ‘I’m not going to sleep with anyone below the rank of captain.’ And you’re the one who saved me.
I tried to put that out of my mind. I didn’t like being beholden to him.
‘Good. I’m a jealous man.’
‘Then hold onto me,’ I said, catching his shirtfront and pulling him close. ‘And mind you don’t let me go.’
6
BARNET
Barnet paced the ship, cold rage prickling the length of his spine. The crew of the Albion worked through the night to make repairs on the ship. There was a hole at the bow where she’d taken on water; damage to the foremast. They had lost a killick and a good section of the railing. His beautiful ship, bested by a rag-tag group of pirates. Mutineers. Thieves.
The crew worked in small knots, drinking small beer and chewing tobacco. Barnet could feel their glancing eyes on him. He knew they were not used to taking a loss, and it had stung. Already he had been forced to have the bosun flog three of them for insolence. Commanding a crew was always a delicate balance of discipline and success, and Barnet could feel that balance sliding out of place.
The only way to set it right was to finish what they had started: he would see Calico Jack’s crew hanged. There was no turning back now.
‘Captain.�
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Barnet looked over his shoulder. The cook was a squat man with a heavy face and pock-marked skin.
‘Sir, we are running low on salt pork and hardtack.’ He ran his tongue over his wind-cracked lips. ‘And soon, beer.’
They should have stopped to resupply but Barnet had made the decision to push on without any further delays. They had enough supplies to get them from Jamaica to Cuba. Some people called ‘Calico’ Jack Rackham ‘Jack of Cuba’, and his ships seemed to be on a course for those waters. It was the logical place to start: pirates always had their favourite ports in which to go to ground. If they found nothing in Cuba they would go on to Rackham’s old haunt in Nassau.
‘Halve the rations,’ he said. He saw concern cross the cook’s face and ignored it. ‘If the men cannot live slim for a few days until we reach Cuba, they are softer than I thought.’
‘Yes sir.’ The cook wavered, opened his mouth as if to voice an opinion, then turned and retreated to the galley.
That night as the crew gathered in the mess, Barnet heard the buzz of resentment. They took it out on the cabin boy, of course. The boy was standing now at the end of the line for the meal. He had been there a long time; other crewmen kept pushing their way in front of him. He did not protest, keeping his head down and his shoulders up by his ears. Barnet felt a twinge of pity for the boy. He was reminded of himself at that age, lost and lonesome, skinnier than he should have been. A memory rose unbidden in his mind. He stamped it out. The boy was not seriously harmed, and he would be a stronger sailor for it.
Still, Barnet noticed the new bruises blooming out along the boy’s arms and cheeks.