“So…have you any idea whom our next target will be?” Carbonale asked, offering Miles and me a glass, which we gladly received.
“According to my information, there’s one coming near Charles Towne, South Carolina within the next two weeks.” I handed him the copy of a manifest I’d managed to acquire prior to my trial in London. I’d accumulated quite a few valuable documents in preparation for this journey.
“Rice? You want to capture a ship…full of rice?” he asked. His voice trailed off into a light chuckle as he passed the document back.
“I don’t care if they’re hauling dog shit, as long as those fat bastards don’t make a penny off of that cargo,” I said without looking up.
Miles shook his head. “Do you never listen?”
Carbonale scratched his chin. His exasperation was evident. He had come a long way since the fight with Marlowe, but there was still plenty for him to learn. As of yet, the larger picture of my sole purpose in pirating seemed beyond his ability to grasp. Rather than beat my red head against the wall of his inability to understand my mission, I changed the subject to something I thought he could easily grasp.
“Carbonale, we will be nearing Norfolk before dawn. I am putting you in charge of a handful of men to go ashore and purchase provisions.”
Carbonale’s perplexed look vanished. Either the idea of being on land excited him or the thought of being in charge appealed to his ego. “Which men, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Three of your choosing, but only by approval of Mister Jacobs, in case we have a need of them here.”
“Or in case they’re worthless to help you ashore,” Miles added.
“When do we go?”
“In the morning before first light and return no later than midafternoon,” I said.
“And if we don’t return by then?” Carbonale inquired.
“Are you asking a captain that question?” Miles asked without raising his eyes from where he now sat at the end of my desk writing the list of provisions we needed.
“I’m simply asking in case something unexpected arises…and why am I explaining myself to you? I was asking Captain Wallace.” Maddox turned away from Miles and faced me, downing his cup of my brandy.
“Then Miles fills a longboat with armed men and walks into town. You, on the other hand, will pray that he finds you behind bars because if he doesn’t, you will be…once he drags your arse back to the ship.” I smiled up at him.
“And suppose I were asking a pirate?”
“We’d try our best not to miss ye too much,” Miles answered. I was out of words for the night and saw no reason to explain myself any further.
“Choose your men and give the list to me before lights out. No list, then Miles will choose them for you,” I said as I stood and walked past him to the door. The cabin had become too confining with Carbonale and his constant questioning. I won’t deny that at times, his company was pleasant and his manner remained befitting that of a well-bred Englishman, but when Miles entered the room, the whole ship seemed to list. If I was to avoid any further animosity aboard the Assurance, Maddox Carbonale had to go.
“We should be in Norfolk waters just after sundown, Cap’n,” Gimby said.
“Thank you, Mister Gimby. You made excellent time.”
“Wind’s been good; maybe too good but I’m watching it,” the old helmsman said. “There’s storm clouds comin’ up from the south. She’s hours away but if my bones get ta aching, I’ll know fer sure.” He nodded and his eyes turned to the waters ahead.
“Your bones are better than Boots’s when it comes to predicting a storm.” Boots was the ship’s cat and honorary lieutenant. If she was seen sleeping flat on her back, we could expect a storm within the hour.
“Aye, but she is better at keepin’ the rats away.” We both laughed.
“Captain, sir?”
I turned and looked at Adam. “Yes, Adam?”
“I was wondering if I could go into town with Mister Carbonale and help with the supplies. It’s been so long since I’ve been ashore and I thought I might be able to find a new book. It’s tiring reading the same ones again and again.”
A tightness crept into my chest. I walked to the railing in silence and stared down at the water. “Adam, come look.”
Adam rushed to the railing. “Dolphins!”
There were three of them racing the Assurance. Adam was a serious lad, far too solemn for a young man of thirteen. The joyful smile on his face at the sight of the dolphins dancing in the sunset revealed the boy inside. The boy was rarely seen and the laughter seldom heard.
The tightening in my chest lingered and I took a deep breath in an attempt to release it. “Adam, you may go ashore.”
“Really, sir?” I thought he might jump up and knock me over from his excitement.
“Well, you want to go, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” His smile was broad and sincere.
“I’ll inform Mister Carbonale that you’ll be going along in search of a new book.” I placed my hands on his shoulders to keep him still, as the boy was bouncing around like the dolphins. “You’ll do exactly as he says at all times. I’m sure he’ll approve highly of your purpose for tagging along.”
“Yes, sir. I see him reading quite often.”
Hearing booted footsteps behind me, I turned to find Carbonale behaving as if he were looking for someone or something. Upon spying the two of us, he headed in our direction with purpose. “Captain, here is my list of seamen for our visit ashore.”
“You were to give this to Mister Jacobs,” I said, eyeing the list of names.
“I thought you should see it as well, Captain.”
“Thompson, Ryan, and Mitton,” I read aloud. “And they have agreed?”
“They have.”
“Mister Carbonale, young Adam here wishes to go ashore with you in the hopes of purchasing a book.” Carbonale cocked one eyebrow and looked down at Adam. “It is his greatest pleasure in life and I encourage it whenever possible. I’ve agreed to the request, but it is your expedition and you will be fully responsible for him. What say you?”
Carbonale placed his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes as if he were attempting to read the boy’s mind but he gave himself away when the corner of his mouth curled up. “Of course he may go.”
“Thank you, Mister Carbonale.” Adam grabbed the big hand of the Black Irishman, who, after being in the sun so long, was certainly proving his heritage.
“What sort of book will you be searching for?” Carbonale asked.
“I don’t really know, sir. Any book will do, so long as it is interesting and I’ve not read it before.” Adam’s face twisted with a smile.
Carbonale nodded. “Well, don’t be late. We set out before sunrise.”
“Oh, I won’t miss this, sir.” Adam hurried off to help prepare the evening meal.
“I am afraid he may be disappointed,” I said. “Norfolk hasn’t been established very long. However, he may find something to interest him.”
“I’m sure he will.”
We both took in the sight of the slowly dimming sky and the hypnotizing movement of the ocean in silence. Our earlier disagreement had long been forgotten. We shared those moments as two friends with an understanding. Words were unnecessary and none were spoken until he bid me goodnight.
I believed at last that peace was settling in.
Eleven
I had risen from sleep long enough to see off Carbonale and his group. “Adam, you do exactly what Mister Carbonale tells you, understood?”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Mister Carbonale,” I said loudly.
“Captain Wallace.”
“Any harm comes to Adam, run for your life. Mister Mitton, shoot Mister Carbonale if he runs and then make certain Adam makes it back to the ship.” I winked and extended my hand, passing him the bullwhip he’d used on Marlowe. He took it and nodded to me as he secured it on his belt.
“Aye, Cap’n.�
�� Mitton concealed a smile from Maddox.
Carbonale appeared confused as if he wasn’t sure if I was serious about my order to Mister Mitton. I knew, however, jest or not, he understood the weight of the responsibility I’d given to him.
“Do ye have enough money, lad?” I asked Adam.
“Aye, sir. My pockets are weighed down with coin. I hope to find a whole library of books, only I haven’t any idea how I’d carry them all back.” He chuckled, pushing his hat down on his head and then shaking my hand. The crew had filled his purse with their personal shares. Adam was, after all, one of us and much like a son or little brother to the crew. The hard glances that fell on Maddox as they departed the ship left a look of apprehension upon his face. I believed he now knew full well what would await him if anything happened to the boy.
I stood at the gunnel and watched until the longboat made its way north into the darkness toward the lights of Norfolk. Then, I retired to catch a few more moments of rest before starting my day.
I was abruptly awakened when I felt the ship being tossed by what I could only assume were some very rough seas. Throwing on my coat as I ran, I called out to Gimby the moment my boots hit the puddles already forming on the deck.
“Gimby, what’s our status?”
“She came in at shortly after daybreak, Cap’n. Blew in like a bat out a hell, she did! The swells are already at five feet and the wind…well, I’m doin’ all I can, Cap’n,” Gimby said, holding tightly to the wheel to keep her nose into the oncoming waves.
“Any sight of Carbonale and Adam?” I shouted over the howling wind as I scanned the ocean astern.
“No sir, Cap’n but it’s a long way’s from afternoon. I know I don’t need ta tell ye this but I gotta get this ship farther out, lest these waves toss us ashore. We’ve got the wind and three dozen souls aboard.” Gimby’s ruddy face was shining at me with salt water and rain, and as always, his concern was heeded. “Cap’n, Mister Carbonale ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen ta the lad—ye have ta trust ‘im.”
After several seconds of allowing Gimby’s voice of reason to sink in, I shouted, “Take us to safety, Gimby!” I silently prayed Carbonale had sense enough to stay ashore until the storm passed, then I convinced myself that even an arrogant sort such as him would know better than to risk his neck or anyone else’s, in a storm this size, especially in a longboat.
Our odds were better in deeper water but despite my worries about Carbonale trying to reach us, my mind ran wild with thoughts of the shoreline flooding. Unless they found horses and made it to higher ground, they might be caught in the storm surge, which could reach several feet—more than enough to flood the city. I raced back to my cabin to check my maps and logs, and to search my records for previous tropical cyclones that had reached this far north. However, knowing these storms as I did, I also knew Norfolk would be fortunate to survive at all. The best chance they had was if the storm turned out to sea or continued up the coast as quickly as it had arrived.
Satisfied with my findings and allowing the fact I had no control of the weather, I returned to the deck and watched as Assurance headed out to sea. I caught the worried glances of the men at work on the lines in the beating rain but held to my purpose to reassure them. However, as I walked the deck, the tension was thick and the normally relaxed atmosphere was now as taut as the strings of a violin, and not only due to the storm.
I paused beside Gimby and held on, taking a brief rest from my many circuits of the ship. “Beggin’ your pardon, Cap’n but if you don’t stop your pacin’, the crew’s goin’ to be jumpin’ out of their skin and into the sea!” he shouted to me over the crashing waves and hammering rain.
“It’s a storm, Mister Gimby. They’ll survive it as they’ve done many times before.”
“It’s Adam, sir. They know you’re concerned and so are they! They know you’re diggin’ your insides out for lettin’ him go ashore.”
“Gimby!”
“Cap’n, if anyone’s ta blame it’s me. I knew a storm was coming but it was moving faster than I expected.”
I stared for several moments at the sober expression of the soaking wet sailor, who had more experience than any two men aboard ship put together. He showed no signs of concern over Carbonale and Adam, yet blamed himself in what I imagined to be an effort to absolve me of my own guilt.
“I worry for your sanity at times, Mister Gimby,” I remarked as I clung to the lines for support and continued my walk.
“Aye, Captain. That’s why I was assigned to your ship!” He grinned.
I paused and looked back at him. There might have been amusement in his eyes but there was also truth. If his sanity was in question, the answer was that he’d seen to the safety of the Majesty’s Venture on more voyages into danger than most of the other ships of the Royal Navy. I knew he’d do the same for the Assurance; perhaps even more.
Secure that the ship was in able hands, I made my way to the bow and swept my saturated hair back and away from my face, now soaked with spray. No longer under the regulations of the Royal Navy, by my example, I’d not enforced the rules regarding hair length, although I did require facial hair to be well-groomed and neat. However, as I stood on that bow facing God’s angry ocean, I questioned myself as to the importance of such trivialities. I questioned many things in order to free my mind from worry that the hour of Carbonale’s first meeting time was upon me.
“Captain!”
I held tight to the gunnel and turned, finding some of the crew gathered behind me.
“What is it, Lawrence? Why aren’t you men keeping this ship from getting swamped?” I shouted.
“Sir, we want to take her back to Norfolk.” The narrow face and deep set eyes were filled with angst and woe.
“Have you all lost your bloody minds? Get on the lines before we’re flooded!”
“Young Adam, sir! We wish to go back! Permission to come about, Captain…please?”
Their soaked, solemn faces tore into me like a razor, both opening me up to the burn of the truth in the salty spray and spilling the pride in my chest for my crew onto the deck.
Again I pressed my hands against my head and swept back my hair and shouted, “Prepare to come about. Mr. Gimby! Back to your stations, lads!” I pushed by my men and raced back to the helm.
“Take hold a’ somethin’, sir!” Gimby bellowed.
“What?”
“Take hold or hit the deck, Cap’n!”
Gimby spun the wheel and she took a hard tilt to port. He was, perhaps, the least insane man I knew, or maybe he was just the most in control of his insanity of us all.
Now facing back toward the shore, the tightening in my chest grew. The closer we came to land, the swells looked higher than the deck of the ship. Night appeared in the middle of the afternoon and our lives, as well as our mutual true course, were dependent on the experience of the man at the helm. If this would be the sole event in which he at last erred, our final voyage would end as a pile of rags and wood on the beach at Norfolk, Virginia. I prayed his record would stand.
“I’ve several crewmen on the pumps, sir, and they’re working but in these swells I can’t say for how long,” Miles said, pulling himself along the lines to meet me at the helm. Assurance was a sound vessel but against the rolling sea and gale force winds nearly ripping the canvas from the rigging, she rocked like a dinghy in the breakers. Visibility was less than a quarter mile in the driving rain and spray, and for the first time in my life, fear for the lives of my crew weighed on my chest like an anvil.
“They better. I’ll not lose this ship or these men. What the hell were they thinking?”
“They voted.”
“From the looks of it, it may be their last vote!”
“Is this Gabriel Wallace I’m speakin’ to? You’re not gonna let a little rain scare ye now, are ye?”
The smile that came to my face was weak but genuine. I knew Miles was right. “So how do ye propose we find them in all of this?”
&
nbsp; “Keep looking, I guess!” He knew I wasn’t asking for a real answer. There was no answer.
“Sir!”
We both turned to find a trembling young man pulling himself along towards us. I recognized the lad as a sailor from the York’s Keep who had signed on with us.
“Speak, Emerson, while ye still can!” Miles shouted.
“I may be able to help.”
“Don’t keep us waiting!” Miles pulled him in by the shirt. It was damn near impossible to hear anyone from more than a foot away.
“I’m from Norfolk, sir. I know the coastline like the back of my hand.”
Miles grabbed the boy by the shirt collar and began dragging him across the deck toward where Gimby stood, steering us through the storm. “Why the devil didn’t ye say so before?” Miles Jacobs could be a man of many words but with no time to waste, he often took the more direct route.
As the ship rose and dropped, I raced back to the bow to assess the rigging. There was someone in the crow’s nest who’d either bravely or foolishly, appointed himself as a lookout for anyone in the water. As I clung to the gunnel and watched, a feeling of doom washed over me, like the waves washing over her bow, that Adam, Carbonale, and that damn longboat were long lost.
My eyes slipped down to the ocean off the portside, and a wall of terror hit me square in the face. “Hold on, man!” I called in futility to the sailor in the nest, as a wave, half as tall as the mainmast, bore down on us. I gasped in horror as the ship was sucked through the trough and up the wall of the wave. Either Gimby or his spotter must have seen it coming, but alas, didn’t have the time to come about completely.
Instinctively, my hands clamped down hard onto the gunnel as the wave hit but the strength of the water hauled me from the deck, tearing my hands from the rail. Seconds later, my head struck something and my body became entangled in the lines of the rigging. The blow caused me to scream in pain in an unheard groan beneath the sea. I was drowning. A few more seconds and I knew I’d be no more than a dead man.
AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) Page 8