“His majesty’s Royal Navy denied me my rightful rank because I am of the tribe of Abraham,” cried First-Rate, his usual cool reserve melted away. “Now I will have the life I want, and damn the ignorance of the world!”
As for Xbalanque, his reaction was most peculiar and unique. As he and Hunahpu passed by me on the forecastle, Xbalanque suddenly bowed his head and burst into sobs.
“I have been a wretch,” he said. “I have treated you without honor.”
“Perhaps there is blame and provocation to be found on all sides,” I said.
“Because my brother has always been content, even eager, to establish himself among the powers that conquered our land, he is of an even temperament. But I cannot help but think of the slaughter of our people, and it has twisted my soul. I can now make a new start. No more will I plague men. When next we dock, I will leave this life.”
“We will establish a business of some sort,” said Hunahpu.
“But we will do something peaceful and true,” said Xbalanque, “and we will live as our fathers did before us.”
“I wish you well,” I said. “Both of you.”
I walked up close to Rackam and, when it seem’d we were unwatched by the other men, I rubbed his neck with some affection. He closed his eyes as my fingers pressed his skin and he let out a deep sigh. Then, running his hands ’round my waist, he pulled me into the shadows and pressed his lips to mine.
“The men!” I said.
With several quick cuts of his sword, he cut down a sail, which fell over us both. The world went white.
“Let them be damned,” said Rackam.
* * *
Tho’ the moon had set, the stars were out and a man hanging in the rigging would have been treated to quite a sight as there, on the poop deck, we engaged in the transit of Venus. Rackam spread out part of the sail beneath us and, thus equipped, we set sail on our own private sea. The urgency I felt in Rackam the night he took my maidenhood was gone, replaced by a tenderness I had never seen openly in his demeanor before. All of his movements were gentle and blithe; he kissed me as if the night would last as long as the year. I stroked his arm and his belly and his broad chest until he moaned loud enough for the man in the masthead to ask if there was trouble below and we both laughed a little and Rackam called out that all was well. Afterward, we lay together for a time, the sail pulled around us like a blanket.
“I sense a change in you,” I said.
“As captain,” he said, “I cannot let my guard down even for an instant.”
“And now, in the wake of such a grand success?”
“Perhaps, my sweet. But I’ve seen weakness destroy others, and I’ve held the lesson close to my heart.”
Rackam told me he had begun in the privateer’s life after taking over a ship when its commander, a Captain Charles Vane, refused to board and fight a French man-o’-war; Rackam, then a quartermaster, led a mutiny and was voted captain and took the ship into outlaw waters.
“Why did Vane refuse the fight?” I asked.
“There are many reasons why a man declines to fight; each is a shade of the same color— fear.”
“Hadn’t he faced such circumstances before?”
“Vane had recently brought his wife aboard the ship— a wench from Wales, as I recall. Her presence made him weak; when we were attacked, he feared for her safety.”
“So he feared not for himself, but for others.”
“Whether he worried for himself or for others, the result was the same. No anchor should hold a privateer’s ship at port; we must be ready to sail with the wind. I have been encumber’d before and each time I have cut loose. Sometimes the love one develops for one’s fellows . . . but, I must not speak of such things. I cannot be anchored. It must be so while I remain in this life.”
There was a silence between us as I reflected on his words.
“You said, once, that you would leave this life when you had accumulated a certain level of funds,” I said. “You have surpassed that, and ten times over.”
Rackam said nothing.
“Before I joined the ship’s company,” I said, “I saw the body of a lad who had been hanged in the market in New Providence. It had been said he would die in his shoes, so he kicked ’em off before he dropped. Is that what you want? To die in your shoes?”
Rackam said nothing.
“Rogers will come looking for us.”
Rackam pointed up at the sky, which was full of stars.
“Would that old Governor Rogers was a constellation,” Rackam said.
“Why?”
“Then, from any place at sea, I could see him scowling at my success.”
Rackam and I kissed again, and I held his face. He buried his head in the crook of my neck and I felt him shudder. I stroked his hair and touched his cheek gently and felt a wet warmth; I could not tell if it was sweat or tears. He kissed me again and we fell asleep, letting the kiss last ’til first light.
I did not know then that that kiss would mark our last victory.
chapter 25.
There are islands off the north coast of Jamaica that are of a tropic and pleasing climate where sea-turtles journey to mate and to spawn. After the Will successfully took the trio of Spanish galleons, Read, who was better traveled than he commonly revealed, recommended to Rackam that one isle in particular would make an excellent site for the men to continue their revels. Read went on at length about the beauty of the location, which he said was covered with yellow banana flowers. Many of the turtles to be found there were, he said, excellent eating and very sweet of flesh and larger and tastier than any similar creatures to be found in Europe or the English colonies.
There were three varieties, he said: one sort of turtle was as big as a longboat, he claimed, and of a similar elongated shape, weighing several thousand pounds. The flesh of this giant, however, was slimy and of a nauseating flavor. There was a smaller variety as well, the size of a man, with bright red shells— these, too, were edible, but their flesh was loose and stringy and full of oil. The third kind, a variety of about four feet in length on the average, was the best for cooking— the flesh was sweet and fat and delicious, and, when salted and spiced, it was a provision that could last many months at sea and yet retain some flavor. I have never been an admirer of eating the flesh of creatures that the Divine Provider Who Rules in Heaven has seem’d to cast out of his glory, like turtles and snakes and bugs of any sort, but, by my faith, Read explored in such detail the charms and succulent tastes of these creatures, my mouth watered for them as if they were made of sugar.
Read asked Zayd to join us, but he declined.
“Alas, such sojourns give me little joy,” Zayd said.
“Why?” I asked.
“I would not burden you with the troubles that plague me.”
“We have already nearly died together,” said Read, “and there are no doubt more perils in store. I have also heard your tale of Port Royal and the disaster that befell you there, so you know more than most of the fragility of the corporal. Let us get through what private revelations we have now before death cuts short our tales.”
So Zayd, agreeing, was thus convinced to tell his story.
* * *
“I was born in the fair Republic of Sale, which is in Africa,” said Zayd. “It is a country of corsairs, and the like, but it is well-govern’d and it has been, as long as memory, a democracy, with each able-bodied man contributing his vote on who should rule, and on major decisions that affect the nation entire.
“On the coast of my fair land, there is a pool, sheltered by the arms of sandbars, that was much beloved by the citizens. The waters in that pool, because of the purity of the coastal light and the refined quality of the underlying sand, were, upon the surface, like a mirror. When a boy in that country reached three and ten years old, he was taken to that curious body of water, which was known as the pool of Sidi Abdullah Ibn Hassun, to peer into its mirror, look at that face that stares back, and thus tak
e measure of his own future. Nearly all who participate in the ritual give the same reply to what they see, and, accordingly, they learn the trade of a corsair. When it was my time, I saw a different future, and so dedicated myself to the healing of the sick.
“As years passed, I took a wife, and had one son, and, for a long while, lived happily in Sale. It is a place whose beauty was unmatched in all the world. Spires pointed the way to heaven, and from the mosques, calls to prayer from the muezzins rang out five times a day across the winding streets and alleyways. There were gardens everywhere in Sale with roses, herbs, and cypress trees for shade. Cafés sold mint teas, yogurts, saffron rice, and canary wines. The air smelled of spices and the calm salt breeze from off the ocean.
“While on a short trip to Cadiz, my ship was taken by slavers. All my fellows were killed or transported to be sold, but upon learning of my profession, I was spared and kept on. The voyage of this ship, which was poorly managed and grim, stretched on for months and years, until at last I escaped when we anchor’d off Tunis, but, instead of traveling directly home, I was forced by circumstance to remove to France, and from there to Port Royal— and you have heard my adventures in that luckless city— before securing a place on a ship bound to my home country.
“My journey back to Sale was long and arduous, and when I arrived, I found the city had been laid to ruin and the republic had fallen. But my heart had not felt its last blow, for I discovered that my wife, whom I married for love and not for any monetary or familial arrangement, had remarried, and my son had taken the name of the man he believed to be his father. I had been gone, without explanation and with no way to send word, for seven years, and so could not lay blame for this turn of circumstance on my former family. Faced with the fall of the city, and the near-certainty of my death, my wife had made a new union, feeling it in the best interests of her son. Now, upon my return, she was tormented with guilt and, after confessing her love for me, sought to prove it by drowning herself and our son in the pool of Sidi Abdullah Ibn Hassun. She succeeded in both her endeavors.
“For seven nights I looked for their bodies. The pool, so lovely in the days of my youth, had grown rank with misuse and then disuse and the surface was stained with a foul-smelling algae. At last, on the seventh day, as the sun rose, I leaned over the side of my small boat and, despairing that I would never find the bodies of my wife and son, and mourning also for the ruin of the city that I loved, I wept, and my tears mingled with the water. In the moments afterward, it seem’d to me that the pool regained some of its former luster, and I saw my reflection in it, and thus my fate. Accordingly, I gave up the search and I join’d up with De Graff, that grand corsair who figures in so many tales, and together we set ourselves on attacking cargo ships, particularly slavers, taking gold and silver and other booty as our compensation, but invariably setting captives free. Alas, no treasure, and no adventure, could ever distract or compensate me from what I had lost in Sale.”
* * *
After Zayd completed his melancholy tale, Read once again proffered his invitation for the Moor to join on our sojourn to the island of the sea-turtles.
“I pray, come with us,” Read said. “You have earned the right to relax a little.”
“Leisure time leaves my mind awandering. I think of my lost ones, and know that I will leave no heir behind. Go on without me.”
“We will talk again on these matters,” said Read. “And I mean before the angels above or the devil below takes us to our rest.”
* * *
So Read and I gathered together our things for the trip. As we readied the longboats, we spoke about the affairs of the Will.
“I have heard talk that Rackam may disband the company, in light of our recent prize,” Read said.
“We have discussed it,” I said.
“We should discuss it more,” he answered. “There are more than turtles on this island. Here also resides a pair of privateers, dangerous and fabled. My intention is to seek their counsel about our endeavors.”
“Who are these privateers?”
“You will meet them in good time.”
As we approached the island, the water shimmered with many sparkling hues, turning from dark violet to medium green to almost clear blue. Read leaned over the railings and pointed out, in the waters beneath us, huge passing shadows, which looked like they were from clouds, but the sky was clear. The underwater shades were turtles, massive and swift; the creatures fed on the sea-apples that grew beneath the waves— that submerged crop is said to be sweeter than any fruit that grows on terrestrial farms.
We launched longboats for the men to take to shore and Read and I were among the first to disembark, with Poop traveling in our company. Ahhh— Read’s description of this place as a paradise did not do it justice! The beach where we landed was as white as a fair maiden’s breasts, the wind was calm, and the sun hot but not unbearably so for these parts. Read laughed and pointed out two turtles, each seven feet in length, coupling on the beach.
“Their congress seems . . . slow,” I said.
“Don’t it?” said Read. “Their copulation lasts several days. Would that men could endure as long, or women.”
Poop, who was walking a few paces behind us, giggled and blushed at such rude humor.
Read and I unloaded a pair of marlinspikes from the longboat and went walking along the shore. We took off our boots to feel the sand beneath our toes, which was soft and warm and pleasing to the feet. We were alone, save Poop, since the other men who had come to shore had not disembarked near our landing. We walked hand in hand down the beach and, from time to time we would show signs of affection to each other: Read would stroke my hair and caress my brow or I would kiss him lightly on the nape of the neck or the back of his hand.
As we strolled the beach, female turtles dug pits in the sand and laid their eggs. The eggs, as we saw after close observation and handling, were not brittle shelled, like those of a bird, but soft and covered with only a thin membrane. Read said they were not good to eat, but provided the warning too late for Poop, who gagged and spat out the remains of an egg he had attempted to consume as a midday snack.
“You are fortunate the mother did not discover you eating her young,” I said to Poop.
“No matter,” said Read. “These mothers do not care much for their eggs once they are laid. In that, they bear similarities to many parents.”
A few paces on, we came across a turtle of the edible variety which, tho’ heavy, all three of us managed to flip over. The creature lay on its back, its stubby brown legs fluttering helplessly.
“They do not possess the power to right themselves,” said Read. “If left in this manner, they would survive for a short time, but then succumb to the elements and perish.”
To put the creature out of its misery and provide for our supper, Read and I simultaneously drove our marlinspikes into the creature’s soft underside. To my surprise, it let out a sound that was not unlike a baby’s cry. We twisted the marlinspikes to bring its end more swiftly, and it called out again and then one last time before it ceased its movement and then seem’d to die.
Night was coming hard on and so we built a small fire on the beach near the water. We had slaughtered the turtle by this time and stripped it of its shell. We impaled strips of turtle flesh on the end of pimento sticks and held them in the fire for roasting. The aroma was pleasant and promised good eating to come. The beach around us, while in the main pristine, was also littered, at a few points, with the wooden planks of shipwrecks, mostly privateer vessels that had been captured by Rogers and, the crew having been taken into custody, left to crash into the shore. Other crew members having set up residence for the night at other spots along the beach many paces along now announced their presence by starting bonfires with the ship wreckage; the strip of white beach looked like a group of stars a god had pulled from the firmament to blaze its glory directly on the earth.
“I’m saddened that Zayd did not join us,” said Rea
d, looking ’round at the night sky. “To endure so many troubles! And yet he is unbroken. I feel there is a joy in him, hidden by melancholy, that longs to come out.”
“To lose a child and a spouse is a calamity beyond all calamities,” I said.
“The first is more tragic than the second,” said Read. “We can forget former lovers and learn to romance others just as well. But the heart never falls out of love with a child.”
Poop had drifted asleep, and so Read and I held on to each other as we sat ’round the fire and roasted turtle meat. The fire reached up and pushed back the night. Read’s strong but gentle hands kneaded the muscles of my shoulders.
“You have the softest skin of any privateer I know,” he said.
“I know not whether I should be insulted or pleased. I like to think, at least, that I have the muscles of a privateer.”
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