AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales)

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AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) Page 9

by P. S. Bartlett


  Just as I was about to hand my sins and my mortal soul over to God, the roar of the sea and wind shocked me back to life and reminded me to breathe, as the Assurance surfaced out the other side of the wave. Struggling to live, I grabbed at a line before the weight of my body dragged me from my trapped position high in the rigging of the foremast and I worked to untangle myself.

  “Captain!” I heard a voice cry out but I couldn’t respond.

  “Where is he?” Gimby asked above the howling wind, racing back and forth.

  “He was clinging to the bow when we went under!” another voice called.

  My vision blurred, and my head throbbed from where it had struck the mast. Gradually, the line slid through my fingers as I made my way down to the deck.

  “Keep looking, men! He’s bound to be there somewhere. The sea can’t swallow that man without a fight!” Gimby bellowed.

  “How right you are, Mister Gimby!” I called upon my feet hitting the deck at last. I staggered and clung to the line for support.

  “There! Half-dead but alive. Help him, men!”

  Young Emerson was the first to reach me. He stopped just shy of taking hold of my arm and ran to the railing and emptied his stomach.

  “Sir,” another sailor said scooping me under the arm. “Yer bleedin’ badly. Let’s get ye to Mister Jacobs.”

  “Where is he?” I asked.

  “He’s counting heads, sir.”

  “Leave him to it. Just help me to my cabin and get as many hands below as we can spare to get the water out. Relay buckets if you have to. Do whatever it takes to keep the Assurance afloat!”

  “Rest assured, sir!” Gimby shouted as I passed him. “And we’re still watching for Mister Carbonale and his party.”

  “I’ll return as soon as I tend to this bump on my head. You men have things well in hand. That turn saved us, Gimby. A broadside hit would have sacked us!”

  “Get below, Cap’n. We’ll keep her right side up!”

  I assessed my injury in the grave, widened eyes of Gimby’s face as he winced at my battered head and his wet, sea-leathered skin paled.

  Twelve

  “Six are missing,” Miles uttered, entering my cabin.

  “I shouldn’t have agreed to turn back,” I groaned, pulling the bloodied cloth away from my head.

  “You had no choice. Dear God, Gabriel!” He moved to my side quickly and began looking closer as the ship continued to creak and roll precariously over the angry waves. Water was pouring in through every crevice and my cabin floor was no exception.

  “By God, is how,” I said, pulling the wet and bloodied shirt away from my skin and trying to wrap my head in it. “Instead of worrying about me, make yourself useful and grab a mop,” I joked.

  “I agree or most likely, the Devil didn’t want you. Allow me to get you patched up so you can lie down and rest. Oh and I don’t think there’s a mop big enough for this one.” He swept the shirt from my hand and began pressing it against my scalp.

  “Thank goodness you never became a doctor.” I winced and pulled back, throwing him a painful cringe.

  “My bedside manner isn’t one of my best qualities I’ll give you that, but since there’s no use in telling you to hold still at the moment, let’s make the best of it.”

  “Who’s missing?” I gritted my teeth and stared at the sloshing puddles on the floor as he poured water over my wounds.

  “White, McLemore, Williams, Leonard, Applewhite, and Chester. Now be quiet and let me work. I’ll not lie, Gabriel, this is bad. You outdid yourself this time.”

  “Boots?”

  “Curled up in my duffle—oddly enough, I checked her favorite spot in all the chaos. I knew Adam would be beside himself if anything happened to that cat.”

  “Is it my cracked melon, Miles or is the storm moving off?” I wasn’t sure if my blurred vision was deceiving me or if the puddles I was staring at had stopped their sloshing.

  “Just in time, I’d say. I’m no seamstress,” he remarked, opening the door of a lantern to burn the point of a needle to begin closing my open scalp.

  “Captain! We sighted something off the port bow—a hundred yards or so, sir,” Emerson screeched, dripping in my doorway.

  I pushed myself to my feet and the room began to spin. Shaking it off, I asked, “How many?”

  “All five crewmen accounted for. Cap’n, Ye have ta see it ta believe yer eyes.” Emerson still appeared sick and pale, yet now his eyes were widened with amazement and I wanted to know why.

  Miles hopped to his feet as well and our eyes locked, caught in the same exuberant expression. I again picked up my bloodied shirt, tied it about my head and raced off, following Emerson with Miles close behind.

  “Gabriel, stay here. I can handle this. Do you wish to bleed to death?”

  “My shirt will do until I see them safely aboard.” I wobbled and wavered about, clutching the gunnel, only now, it was my injury and not the wild water, causing me to stumble.

  “Oh good…then you’ll at least be presentable when you die of some infection,” Miles remarked smartly, taking me under the arm.

  “Off the portside, sir. Mister Gimby was able ta bring us about again and point her t’ward Norfolk, sir. That’s when I spotted ‘em,” Emerson said, offering me the spyglass. “Now ye see what I was sayin’?”

  I lowered the spyglass and rubbed at my eyes to clear them. When I raised it again and brought into view what I believed was a make-shift raft of barrels, strung together with rope, my heart leapt into my dry mouth. There they were—all four of them, holding on with one hand and waving frantically in the air with the other. Adam was with them. Thank God, the boy was alive. Through the spyglass I could see them bobbing in the water. Their obvious display of cheer proved they could see Assurance and were overjoyed.

  “Mister Gimby…” I began to say.

  “Already bringin’ her about Cap’n!” he answered with a spring in his voice.

  I stood at the gunnel and prayed silently, thankful for the now drizzling rain that hid the tears of relief streaming from my bloodshot eyes. I held my bare back to the cheers and revelry of success, as Gimby skillfully brought us alongside of the bobbing barrels.

  “Toss a hook, will ye gents?” Carbonale called out from below me. “This isn’t just an ingenious feat of engineering on our part. We’ve given our little vessel a name; the Salvation and trust my words, you’ll want her aboard.”

  “And why is that?” I asked with a laugh, swiping the mixture of fresh water and tears away from my face. I was so relived they were all alive, that in that moment, the man could have told me those barrels were filled with hog piss and I’d have thanked him.

  “The only cargo we carried that could float just happened to be the one thing lighter than water.” He winked up at me and attached the hook through the ropes on the barrels.

  Miles looked at me. “What the devil is he yappin’ about?”

  I smiled in understanding and waved at Adam as he was handed over the gunnel. “I believe, although we didn’t get the supplies we were hoping for, Mister Carbonale has brought the crew something to keep their minds off their stomachs for a few days if we were to run out of food.”

  “Rum?” Miles smiled, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. I gave him a knowing grin and wink and slapped him hard on the back.

  Adam raced to my side and his smile removed the pain in my chest. “You look as though you enjoyed your time ashore.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulders for a quick welcome, restraining myself from any overt display of affection in front of the men.

  “Yes, sir. Norfolk wasn’t much in the way of a town but there were some shops to visit. Fortunately, we didn’t have time to make any purchases before the storm arrived, for they’d all have been lost.”

  “Yes, that was a blessing.”

  “Aye, sir. We were tossed about a bit in the rough sea but made it to the beach. Actually, we’d barely made it to shore when Mister Carbonale looked up at the sky
and shook his head. He was worried that, even if we were able to get everything you asked for, we wouldn’t make it back to the ship if we lingered. We’d only had enough time for him to snatch those barrels. He said it was a gift for the crew. He said they’d need it after what they just went through.”

  “What happened to the boat?” Miles asked, pressing his knuckles into his hips and leaning over Adam, as if he were telling a fish tale.

  “That would be my fault,” Carbonale called out as he threw a leg over the railing. “The storm fooled me. As fast as it showed up, I didn’t think it would linger the way it did. We were tossed off course a bit and lost sight of the dock in the downpour. When at last we spied it, well, there wasn’t enough of it left to tie onto, so we beached her. Lo and behold,” he carried on, acting out their rescue of the rum-filled containers and entertaining us with the tale, “the barrels began washing up on the shore!” he shouted over a belly laugh, bringing everyone within listening distance to laughter as well. “Of course, we couldn’t just leave them there and it’s a damn good thing we didn’t.”

  “Mister Carbonale grabbed some rope and tied them together when we loaded them in the longboat. He said he had a bad feeling about things and they could be useful in more ways than one. Turns out, when that big swell hit us broadside, he was right! He pulled me by the collar out of the waves and tossed me on top and we all held on. It was better than any book I could have bought.” Excitement burst from Adam’s every word. However, my expression of concern was obvious, as Adam touched my forearm and asked, “You’re not angry are ye, Captain?”

  “Of course the Captain isn’t angry, Adam,” Carbonale said, patting the lad on his back and giving me a look that plainly reminded me to be thankful, not scornful. “We have arrived safely, although I’d say you spotted us with no time left to spare.”

  Whether it was the excitement or my loss of blood, I began to sway and tip towards the gunnel. I reached out and caught myself. I also caught the look in both Adam’s and Carbonale’s eyes. The concern was typical of Adam but Carbonale appeared to have lost most of his tan complexion for a moment, when they both rushed to my side and took an arm until I steadied myself. Then, they at last noticed I was injured. There was more in Carbonale’s glaring inspection of me than I would have ever guessed existed. Although, I’m certain I appeared a dead man propped up for inspection.

  “Shall we get you back to your cabin, Captain?” Carbonale asked, tugging at my arm.

  “I believe I give the orders,” I answered with what sounded to me like my voice after a few pints of good ale.

  “Not when you are about to fall down and appear to have more blood on your shirt than in your head.” With no further protest, I succumbed to his suggestion and he and Adam turned me about and began leading me back to my cabin.

  “Mister Jacobs, see to those men,” I said over my shoulder. I heard Miles chuckle and I imagined he found a great deal of humor in my being led away by the arms and having to turn over my stubbornness for good judgment.

  “Adam, have the cook boil some water, if there is any wood still dry enough for a fire,” Carbonale said. “From the looks of things, it appears you tried to drown her.”

  I raised my eyes to them to affirm Carbonale was right—not that I had tried but that Assurance had come close to going down. “Yes, I believe the wave you spoke of met us first. Gimby had her nosed into the swell but it was just bad timing. Who could predict something like that? Only God knows when a wave will crest. We were swamped.”

  “Was that when you injured your head?” Adam asked.

  “Aye, lad.” I blinked.

  “Water, Adam, please,” Carbonale said.

  “Aye, sir.” Carbonale watched as Adam flew from my cabin.

  “How bad is it?” I assumed Carbonale had waited for Adam to leave before asking.

  I raised my eyes again in pain and confessed. “Blurred vision, dizziness, nausea and a throbbing pain so deep it makes me wish I were dead. I feel as though a spike’s been driven into my skull and remains there. How’s that?”

  “Any injuries other than your head?” He asked, further examining me through an intense stare.

  I moved slowly, testing my body. “Pain in my back but nothing serious—most likely some bruising. I’ll live, Mother.”

  Carbonale nodded, ignoring my jest and continuing with his thorough examination of my busted scalp. “I won’t know until this is washed and that mop of hair of yours is clipped away but the amount of blood you’ve lost concerns me.”

  “It stopped bleeding and it isn’t as if I’ve never been knocked in the head before. Miles started to stitch me up. Thank God we were distracted,” I strained to swipe his probing fingers away from my injuries.

  He stood and folded his arms across his chest, cocking his eyebrow at me in disbelief. “Oh, really? When?”

  I squinted up at him and blinked several times to keep his wet black head in focus. “I don’t know but this was a Naval vessel remember? Other storms, battles—things happen.”

  “Well, at least that explains your jovial disposition.”

  I looked up again and his expression lay flat but the corners of his mouth gave away the mirth. “A funny man, aye, Maddox?”

  “It’s beyond even my control, Captain. Now, if you’ll stop behaving like a stubborn mule, you could at least allow me the pleasure of cleaning and dressing the wounds so you may lie down.” Carbonale walked to my desk and poured me a cup of ale and placed it in my hand. “Drink this down and chase it with two more, if that’s what it takes a fellow of your girth to get drunk. Miles and Gimby can take care of the ship. And by rest, I mean rest until you are truly well enough by either my or Miles’s, opinion.”

  “Cook was preparing hot grog, sir.” Adam dashed back into the cabin holding a kettle and a bowl. “Cook gave me these strips of cloth, too.”

  “Hot grog, you say?” Carbonale asked.

  “This is just water like you asked. He said he figured we’d all need something to warm up our insides after being in the sea and the rain.” The boy shivered slightly, still covered in his wet slops.

  “Even in these waters, that’s typical of a cyclone that comes up from the south.” Carbonale continued slicing away at the thick red hair on the crown of my head and tending to my wound as he spoke. “The cold water from the bottom of the ocean comes up to the top from all the churning and that, my young man, makes for even bigger problems. Hot and cold do not mix…in weather or in love.”

  Adam blushed and chuckled. “No worries about that last part with me, sir. Captain, if I may speak plainly, sir, I want you to know that if not for Mister Carbonale’s quick thinking, every one of us would have perished. Me, still being just a boy and all, I’m sure I’d have been the first to go.”

  “What?” Blood flooded my head and I slumped forward as the pain spiked in my brain.

  “Sit still, Captain,” Carbonale said. “And you, don’t excite him…nor exaggerate,” he chided Adam. “A boy would not have survived out there. I believe after this day, you’ve proven you’re not a boy anymore.”

  “I wasn’t exaggerating, sir, and you know it. On my life, Captain, I was saved by a black snake.”

  I turned my squinted eyes to Adam. I knew him not to be one to lie but being saved by a snake? “Adam, there is…”

  “Had Mister Carbonale not tossed me the whip, I’d be facedown and floating out to sea right now. When the longboat capsized, I surfaced several yards away from the barrels as they bobbed in the waves. Then, I felt Mr. Carbonale’s whip slap across my head. I grabbed it without a second thought. When I looked at what I had clutched in my hands, I almost let go. At first glance, I thought it was a snake.” Adam finally took a breath.

  “It was a great deal less exciting than he has expressed,” Carbonale mumbled from behind me, now wrapping my head. “The fact is, the boy saved us all. It was his suggestion to tie those barrels together. He said he’d read it in one of his books.”

&nb
sp; “Adam, get out of those wet clothes and get some rest,” I said.

  “But, sir, there’s still work to be done and you need...”

  “You’ve done enough for one day. Now go and help yourself to a cup of that hot grog as well. We’ll not have you catching your death.” Adam turned with a flashing smile and exited the cabin. “How accurate was his account of what happened?” I asked Carbonale as the door closed.

  “Gabriel, I’d prefer never to think on it again. If the truth be told, I knew if I returned without that lad…let’s just say I’d rather face the sharks than your wrath.”

  I made no further inquiries. In my physical state, as well as my state of mind, I decided not to press him and we spent the remainder of our time together in silence as he tended to me. Although we did not exchange words, I spent those quiet moments wondering if he realized how much of himself he had revealed today. He had medical knowledge and knew the workings of tropical cyclones, all the while pretending to be a young man of leisure whose only concern was the quality of his wine and the polish of his appearance. I’d already known he was brave and capable but adding to that his rescue of Adam and the others, I now measured him higher than any other man I knew, living or dead.

  Thirteen

  Seven days at sea. Not a drop of rain fell but for now, our stores were sufficient, although we’d settled on rationing days ago to be overly cautious. I mumbled to myself as I lay in my bunk, “Blessed be,” when the call of “sail” came just after dawn. Lo and behold, once within distance to view her clearly, I recognized her as one of Admiral Chambers’s prize investments and handed off my spyglass to my new friend.

  “That, gentlemen, is a beautiful ship,” Carbonale said, seemingly unable to remove the glass from his eye.

  “The Waiting Lady,” Miles said. “She’s fast when riding high but she’s not slow on a full belly either. Eighteen guns but we’ll make room for a few more once she’s ours.”

  Carbonale turned away from the Lady at last. “Ours? So you’re saying your intentions aren’t to only relieve the Lady of her possessions?”

 

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