by Chogan Swan
“Derek,” Stone snapped, “get the bow chasers turned to bear on that –”
Without warning, a slender arm as hard-muscled as a tree branch wrapped around his throat and yanked him back, slamming him against the attacker’s body. A thin, hard line pressed against his throat and a warm trickle ran down his neck.
It’s a blade. I’m bleeding.
Derek, his cousin, and Thompson, the first mate, stared, shocked at whoever was behind him.
“Your ship is mine,” a strangely accented female voice said in his ear. “Surrender her now and you will live.” The inexorable arm tightened. He was like a child in its grasp. That the voice was female, coupled with such strength, was even more terrifying. A chill gripped his stomach.
“I surrender,” he shouted when the arm loosened. “Everyone lay down arms.”
“Yes sir,” said Derek, a flash of disgust crossed his face. He knelt, lowering the pistol, but just before it touched the deck he raised it and fired. Stone felt the kick as the ball went through his guts and the searing agony as it smashed into his vertebrae, shattering bone, pulverizing the spinal cord.
He lowered his eyes to see the trickle of blood from his neck join the flow from his stomach.
I thought we were friends.
He hated complications. His vision dimmed and went red—dark, dark red—and the darkness sucked at him.
Tiana sensed the man's sudden decision to shoot, but both of her hands were full and she couldn't get to the treacherous vermin. She whistled, loud and piercing, and the gun deck’s hatchway crashed open and ten of her recruits rushed up the steps toward her position. Two in the middle held hefty bags of two-inch lead grapeshot for missiles, and the rest held belay pins to keep bodies back and give her room to throw.
She tossed the captain’s corpse at the shooter as he attempted to draw his sword and scratch-slapped him on the face, knocking him to the deck. Only a few more officers had pistols in their belts. They had not broken out the muskets—sure of victory without them.
Change of plans.
“Abdusamad, back into the gun deck,” she ordered then leapt into the rigging and raced to the top. Above her, the red flag with the Union Jack in the corner snapped in the wind on the flagpole. But she jumped high, ripped it from the masthead and dropped, bouncing from net to sail to mast to the pilot’s station on the raised bridge. She landed behind the pilot and handed him the flag, keeping her eye on the crew,
No trouble yet; eyes were wide, hearts were racing, but nobody was attacking. The pilot stared at her.
“¿Habla usted, Español?” she asked.
He nodded hesitantly.
“What is your name, Señor?” she said. “You can speak English. I will understand, though I will speak Spanish for now.”
“Darcy. . . Grover Darcy, the Sailing Master.”
“Thank you, Mister Darcy. I am Princess Tiana.”
“Your captain surrendered before being shot by his own man. You have no guns and la Niña Bonita is coming about. In a moment you will be within range of their guns. Will you surrender or must there be more killing?”
The man was speechless for a moment. He moved his mouth—as though considering and practicing what to say—then saluted. “What are your orders, Captain?” he said.
Darcy was wearing a plain blue frock coat. His face, weathered and dark reflected thousands of miles traveled on the seas. She paused and considered. The Sailing Master might have more of the crew's trust than the officers whose normal chain of command she'd just disrupted.
In Español she said, “Tell your men I have spiked your guns and my men control the gun deck. You are obeying the captain’s order and surrendering to me. I can take them on as crew, but no man needs sail with me if he is unwilling. I want the ship’s officers to report here.”
She paused for a moment to survey the crew. “Tell the first mate to confirm my claim first. And have someone take care of the remains of the unfortunate previous captain. Two of my men will gather weapons. Have everyone place all guns and blades on the deck and move away from them.”
The pilot bellowed at the crew, and numbly—a few at a time—they obeyed.
Hierarchical command could be so predictable.
“Mister Darcy, turn into the wind and heave to,” she ordered. “And have someone hang up a white sheet from the masthead so la Niña Bonita holds fire.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
As he brought the ship into the wind, Darcy muttered to himself. “What would you have done if I hadn’t been able to understand Spanish?”
“I would have found a translator,” she said in English, knowing her pronunciation was more akin to Español
She switched back to that language. “Who was the man that murdered the captain?”
“That would be his first officer, Derek Stone. John Stone’s own cousin and a right nasty slice of pie, Captain,” he said with a sour expression.
“The first mate is returning now. Ask him to confirm my claim now and have him bring the swords here before I speak with the other officers.”
“Mister Thompson, report the status on the gun deck,” called Darcy.
“Thirty-four men knocked out, twelve loyal to her and the guns spiked w’ teak,” said the first mate.
“Thank you, Mister Thompson,” said Darcy. “Captain Tiana wants the swords of both the Stones now.”
“Aye aye, sir. Right away,” said Thompson, stooping to gather the swords in his arms.
Tiana took the sheathed sword that had belonged to the captain from Thompson and raised it overhead then said, “See that it is buried with him.”
Thompson nodded. “Aye Captain.”
Tiana unsheathed Derek’s sword, hilt in one hand and tip in the other, she pulled them together until the blade snapped with the sound of bell cracking. Gasps rose like smoke from the deck. She tossed the shards overboard.
“Cor Blimey!” whispered Darcy.
The officers were lining up at the steps to the bridge. The first in line had taken off his sword, leaving it sheathed, and holding it across his arms.
She turned to him and nodded, beckoning to him.
Hesitantly, he stepped forward and held out his sword, bowing low and stumbling over the words as he introduced himself. She bowed in return and took his sword, drawing it for inspection then sliding it home in its sheath. It did not match the quality of the damasked blade Marcos carried, but it was well-tended.
“Mister Darcy, please tell everyone that, in my kingdom, parole is accepted on their honor with a promise of peaceful conduct and a kiss exchanged. To break oath invites a curse. If they wish the freedom of the ship, they can abide by my custom, and have their swords back now. They are not to wear them on deck or unsheathe them. If they do not wish to abide by my custom, they will be shackled and transferred to la Niña Bonita. As officers on a privateer hostile to the vessel on which I had transport, they are subject to Spanish military law at my discretion.”
Darcy translated and the young officer squared his shoulders and nodded. He stepped forward, and she kissed him on the mouth. He turned and marched off the bridge, head high. Not to be outdone, the next officer stepped up to face her. Tiana's lips twitched upwards—it was becoming a habit when she felt amused. The kiss chemically guaranteed their peaceful attitude for a week.
By the time all four gave their parole, the ship had turned into the wind and drifted on the swells.
“Mister Thompson,” Tiana said, trying out her English again. “Please come speak with me. How did you become first mate on this ship?”
She spent several minutes with Thompson, then told him he could stay on as first mate.
“How soon do you make la Niña Bonita arriving, Mister Darcy?” she said.
“Twelve minutes, Captain,” replied Darcy without hesitation.
“Excellent. Can you have someone relieve you at the wheel? I need to interview the crew. Let us go first to the gun deck to speak with Mister Abdusamad. I want your adv
ice on many matters today, but first let me ask you this. Will you work for me and serve me in good faith, or do you want to be ransomed?”
“Captain, there are none to ransom me, and I am not in the navy. If you are not at war with England, I will sign your roster if you will treat me fairly.”
“Good,” Tiana said. “As we go by each of the men, give me their names, duties and capabilities.”
Ten minutes later, she was at the rail watching la Niña Bonita pull alongside.
She took the megaphone from Darcy and held it to her mouth. “Greetings, Capitán Rodriguez. I was sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but, since these people were being hostile, I came over to see if I could convince them to be more polite.” She grinned. “I was successful.”
Marcos held up his own megaphone. “I am glad to find you well, Princess Tiana. Can you tell the captain I am ready to accept his surrender?”
Tiana shook her head feigning regret. “Two things prevent that. First.: when he surrendered to me, one of his own men murdered him. The second: this ship belongs to my kingdom. It was a private ship, but they committed an act of war against my transportation, and I have taken it as a prize. If your government wants her, they can negotiate with me when we reach Buenos Aires. Since I took this ship without your assistance, I do not recognize a claim against her and I stand ready to defend my kingdom’s property.”
“The guns are working then?”
“Oh yes.”
She turned to Darcy. “Mister Darcy, please tell Mister Abdusamad to fire some wadding on the port side please.”
Darcy motioned to Abdusamad, who stood at the hatchway door. A moment later the deafening report of four, carronades sounded, and a shower of wadding dusted the deck of la Niña Bonita.
“The other guns, however, are loaded with somewhat more dangerous ammunition,” Tiana said. “Will you take my word for that?”
Marcos nodded, brushing bits of wadding off his coat. His lips twitched upwards.
Tiana went on. “I have some prisoners you may wish to take aboard. There would most likely be a reward if you deliver them to your superiors in Buenos Aires. Four gave me their parole; the other two are in chains. They will be waiting on the ship’s boat that we are about to lower. I advise you not to accept parole from Derek Stone.”
She wrinkled her nose. “He is in chains for murdering his captain, an attempt to take power after the captain ordered him to surrender. The other is a nasty person who wounded one of my men and offended me.”
Behind her, the ratcheting sound of winches lowering the smallest of her ship’s boats punctuated her speech.
She pointed at the boat. “I invite you to come aboard for a visit while I am finishing with some details before we depart for Buenos Aires. Would you be so kind as to have my luggage and my personal boat transferred here after you take on the prisoners?”
“Of course, Princess… I mean, Captain… Tiana. I accept your offer of hospitality as well and will bring your luggage myself.” Marcos put down the megaphone, saluted her then turned back to his deck. He called orders to his pilot who let off the rudder, allowing la Niña Bonita to drift back to intercept the boat.
Tiana turned around. “Mr. Darcy, I must attend to a matter on the gun deck, but I will be back at the bridge in one hour. If the boat is ready to be hauled back sooner, please let me know.”
“Aye Captain,” said Darcy with a salute.
“Oh, and Mr. Darcy, Please inform the crew that the new procedure on my ship will be to only salute me when you present yourself or are dismissed. No one is to interrupt his work to salute me as I pass by or give an order.”
“Aye aye Captain,” said Darcy without saluting.
Darcy strode to the bridge and called the crew to assemble. Tiana smiled and turned to the hatchway. There were many tasks to finish in an hour: heal Juan, wake up the thirty-two gunners and decide their fate, make sure her crew got the spikes out of the touchholes instead of using fuses down the barrel for firing, check through the captain’s cabin. And, perhaps the most urgent of all, air out her quarters.
An hour later, Tiana watched from the bridge as the crew prepared to haul the ship’s boat back up to the deck. Marcos’s head appeared above the railing. Thompson offered him a hand to steady him over the railing, and Marcos took it with thanks and a smile.
Thompson saluted him. “Capitán Rodriguez, Captain Tiana has asked you to join her on the bridge.”
“Thank you, Mister …?”
“Thompson, sir.”
“Mister Thompson, thank you for your assistance,” said Marcos in English. He walked across the deck and up the steps to the bridge.
Tiana had changed into a clean dress and headscarf. She'd also discovered some women’s leather gloves in a trunk in her cabin and cut off the fingertips.
Marcos bowed.
“Welcome aboard, Capitán Rodriguez,” Tiana said. “Thank you for bringing my luggage. I notice you brought your own trunk as well.”
“Yes, I hoped you would allow me to travel with you. It will give Alférez Ruis the opportunity to command that he so desires and myself the opportunity to convince you to turn this vessel over to the navy when we reach Buenos Aires.”
“Somehow I doubt you will be taking advantage of that opportunity. Am I right?”
“I fear I must do so at least once to have a clean conscience when I tell the Admiral that I did, in fact, attempt it. Will you?”
“No Capitán Rodriguez. I am afraid I am in need of her.”
“I know. Thank you for this opportunity to make my case. I will not bring the matter up again.” He winked.
Tiana ventured a quiet laugh. “I am glad you will be joining us for the trip, Marcos. Tonight you may sleep in the officers’ cabin. You will have it to yourself. I wish I could ask you to share my cabin tonight, but I made a promise that will require privacy and it may take all night to honor it. But come, I will show you to your quarters and you can get settled.”
She looked west to the setting sun. The red streaks across the sky covered the horizon. “A full day then wasn’t it, Marcos?”
Marcos nodded. “I certainly never expected it to end like this.”
Tiana turned from the rail. “Mister Darcy,” she said in English. “You have the bridge.”
“Aye Captain,” said Darcy.
She walked to the boat and took her bag from where the bosun had dragged it to put next to Marcos’s trunk. “Thank you, Mister Jones,” she said to the bosun. “Please have this trunk taken to the officers’ cabin.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” said the bosun, eyes wide as he watched her shoulder the bag.
“Mister Darcy, set course for Buenos Aires, north by northwest as tight to the wind as you can make her.”
“Aye aye Captain,” said Darcy.
“I am making Mister Abdusamad acting first officer. He will be in charge of sleeping arrangements on the gun deck. If I am needed for ship’s business tonight, tell him and he will bring the matter to my attention.”
“Aye Captain.”
Nodding to the four guards at the door, she navigated the hatch and the stairs and crossed the gun deck to where her men were drilling out the wood from the touchholes on the final four guns.
“Señores, this is Capitán Marcos. He will have the cabin across from mine tonight and he has my complete confidence.”
She turned to Abdusamad. “Mister Abdusamad, you are acting senior officer, but if I am unavailable you can consult with Capitán Marcos if there is no emergency. Sleeping arrangements on the gun deck are your responsibility. Assign the following crew members to night watch. They are not to occupy the gun deck more than three at once. Put them in the middle of the deck separated from each other. Do not trust them.” She reeled off fifteen names.
Abdusamad nodded. She could sense his agreement with her list.
“Please have Juan brought to my cabin so I can finish taking care of his wound. When I am done, he will need to sleep the rest of the
night. Then send another who fought with us to my cabin, one at a time, and come yourself as soon as the guns are all operational.”
She smiled at them. “Señores, you are all free men. I look forward to helping you celebrate your first day of freedom.”
She walked with Marcos down the hall and opened the cabin door for him. Two of her men were bringing his trunk through the hallway. She held the door for them as they took it to the holding rack. After they left, she put her hand on Marcos’ shoulder. “Thank you for coming. I am glad you decided to stay with me.”
Marcos laughed. “You saved la Niña Bonita and possibly my life and now you are thanking me? Tiana. I am in your debt.”
She looked him in the eyes. “I fear you will have far too many chances to repay that favor,” she said. “I hope we both survive this. We are sailing into dangerous waters.”
“I understand. There is much at stake.”
She embraced him in human fashion, then turned to leave, closing the door behind her as she went.
In her cabin, the windows were open wide to the sea air, and the odor was much improved. The chilly air would be inappropriate for her next activities though. She pulled them shut and took a small piece of ambergris from her bag then stowed the bag in one of the trunks she had claimed.
The smell of the gray amber was building in the cabin, driving out the odor of John Stone. There were four lanterns hanging near the walls, and she lit one with the firestriker from her harness then lit a taper from the lantern and lit the other three with that. She turned the flames higher then suspended the bit of ambergris on a silver spoon above one of the hurricane lenses.
As it warmed, a spicy musk filled the room.
She took off her harness and dress and stowed them away then took a silk gown from the trove of women’s clothes and pulled it over her head.
It settled on her body like a caress, clinging to her breasts like a lover.
She wrapped her tail around her body. Though she might not be hiding it later, if she prepared her men ahead of time and each one promised sincerely to keep it secret it would not be a problem. She was improving at smelling who was trustworthy. If she could not be sure, there were always blindfolds.