by Gene Wolfe
Outside, they made us line up. Like I said, I have forgotten a lot that happened between the storm and that night, but I remember that night as well as anything that has ever happened in my life. It was overcast, no moon and just one or two stars peeping though tears in the clouds. A little swell to the sea and the Santa Charita rolling to it just enough to feel alive. Five or six or maybe eight or ten lanterns lit, one run halfway up the mainmast and one on the quarterdeck railing and looking like it was going to slide off any minute. Pirates holding the rest, a lantern in one hand and a cutlass or a pistol in the other.
I had gotten into line and everything before I saw there were two bodies on the deck. One was old Zavala. I kept staring at the other one, trying to figure out who it was. His face was turned away from me, and he was not wearing anything but a long shirt.
Somebody-a voice I did not know-said, "Let's have another light over here," and I kind of jumped. That was because it seemed to me that I should know it, and because the words were in English.
"There's many a one would cut your throats," the man who spoke English said. Then another man said the same thing in Spanish and louder.
"You've been lucky. Very lucky. You've fallen into the compassionate hands of Captain Bram Burt. Any man who disobeys or lies to me will lose his life a damned sight quicker than a court would kill him. But the ones who obey and tell me the truth will live, and some of them will even get a chance to grow rich while they're still young enough to enjoy it."
When the Spanish translation came, all of us were looking at each other. Before that I had been looking at him, trying to remember where I had seen that round face and long blond mustache before. If you read this far, you will have gotten it a lot quicker than I did.
He pointed to the dead man in the long shirt. "This was your captain. I know that because he came out of the captain's cabin. What other officers are there on this ship? Watch-keeping officers."
Senor took a step forward. He looked scared enough to faint, but he sounded brave when he said, "Only I."
Capt. Burt unhooked a pistol from his belt, cocked it fast and easy, and leveled it at Senor. "You had better call me 'Captain.'"
Senor touched his forehead. "Si, Capitan."
"You can navigate?"
"Si, Capitan."
"Who else can?"
Senor's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
I raised my hand and said in English, "I can, a little bit, sir. Nobody else."
"En verdad, Capitan. Nadie."
Capt. Burt was looking at me and paid no attention to Senor. "You-put down your hand." He raised his voice. "Now I want every married man to raise his hand. Don't lie to me. Every married man."
After it was said in Spanish, most of the hands went up, including Senor's.
"I see. You married men stay where you are. Single men, over to the starboard rail and sit down."
We did as we had been told. There were only four of us. Two pirates watched us there for what seemed like an hour.
While we sat there, the other pirates were getting the boat into the water and getting the married men into it, with a keg of water and a string of onions. We could not see the boat until it pulled away. When it did, it was just a sort of darker shadow on the sea, but I knew it had to be jammed full of men and ready to sink the first time the sea got rough. There had been sixteen men in the starboard watch and eight in the larboard watch, plus the captain and Senor, so twenty-six men. Two had been killed that I knew about, and I think that was all. We four had stayed on board. So twenty men jammed into a boat I would have thought could not carry more than a dozen.
"Listen to me," Capt. Burt said when he got back to us, "and listen sharp. You may join my crew if you wish. If you do, each of you will take an oath, and your lives will be forfeit should you break it. When you've taken that oath, you'll share in our gains just as these men do. You'll eat and drink with us and be accounted a full member of our crew. If you don't, you'll be put ashore on the next deserted coast we reach. Now I want every man willin' to join us to stand."
He stared hard at me while the other man was repeating what he had said in Spanish, but I did not get up. The others did, but I did not.
After that they tied my hands, and I sat there for hours. I asked the guard if I could lie down. He said yes, and I was about asleep when they got me up and brought me to the captain's cabin.
Capt. Burt was in there. So was his sea chest and all his stuff, which was a lot. There were two chairs, and he told me to sit down in the empty one, which I did.
"You're the Jerseyman I talked to in Veracruz, ain't you?"
I mumbled that I was.
"Thought so." He took a silver snuffbox out of the blue, brass-buttoned coat I was to know so well, took a pinch, and said, "You know my name, but I've forgotten yours. What is it?"
I told him again, calling him Capt. Burt.
"Right. You speak good Spanish."
I nodded.
"French, too. Quite a bit of French."
I answered him in French, saying that I did, but that no one was likely to take me for a Frenchman.
"You can navigate?"
"A little. I never said I was an expert."
"I want you, Chris. I've got three already, but I'd be glad to trade 'em for you. What would it take to get you to join?"
I tried to think whether there was anything.
"Your own ship? You'd be captain, reporting to me. I'd claim a captain's share of anything you took on your own, but the rest would be yours."
I shook my head. "It's stealing, Captain. Stealing and murder. I won't do it."
Burt sighed. "You're a gentleman, Chris, whether you know it or not. Give me your parole, and I'll cut those ropes. Givin' your parole means you won't try to get away, 'pon your honor."
I nodded. "Cut me loose, and I won't try to get away, I swear it to God."
"On your honor."
"Right. I swear it on my honor."
He pulled out a dirk and showed it to me. "My ma gave this to me when I joined His Majesty's Navy."
I said it looked like a good one, because it did.
"It is." He used it to cut the rope around my hands. "Sheffield steel, and this black handle's ivy root. The mountin's are silver. We weren't rich, you twig? My pa's a grocer. I know it must have cost my old ma every penny she had."
I was rubbing my wrists.
"Why do you think she did that?"
"Because she was proud of you." It hurt me to say that, but I did.
Capt. Burt nodded. "She was. She was proud of me 'cause I was goin' to fight for my king and my country. It's your country, too, Chris."
I knew that it was not, but it seemed better not to say so.
"And that's what I'm doin'. Ever been paid half of nothin'?"
I did not understand what he meant, but I shook my head.
"I have. A midshipman's pay's the kind of money you'd throw to a beggar. You don't join for pay, eh? You join for prize money, and if you're lucky it can be rum quids. My ship was laid up and me put on half pay. Meanin' half of nothin'."
I said, "What did you do?"
"You're seein' it." Capt. Burt grinned. "I did this."
He jumped up. "Listen here, Chris. Spain hates us and we hate Spain. The only reason we're not at war with 'em is that we're not strong enough to fight 'em yet. The only reason they're not at war with us is that they've all they can do to hold down the savages over here. My men and I rob Dago ships and Dago towns. How long do you think we could keep it up if His Majesty were to tell the governor of Jamaica to clap me in irons?"
I did not know and said so.
"Per'aps a year. Not a day more than that, and it could be a lot less. Hear me now, Chris. Back before Cromwell, Spain set out to conquer us. Their king sent the biggest bloody fleet anybody's ever seen, and we only beat 'em off by the skin of our teeth. If things had been just a bit different, if Drake hadn't been around, or certain others, they'd have beat us."
I
can still see him standing there staring at me, his thumbs hooked into his wide belt, and two big guns hooked on to it too. If he had been an inch taller, he would have had to stoop a little under the deck beams, and he had the look men get when they have killed people they have talked to and drunk with. (Maybe I have it, too, since I have done those things. I do not know.)
"The gold I take from the Dagos is gold they stole from the savages."
I nodded. I did not want to, but I did.
"I don't know everythin' you've been taught, or how much of it you believe. But that's the way the world is, Chris, and that's the way it's goin' to stay. Well by God, I can play the game as well as any Dago. No, better. And I've proved it."
All of a sudden he smiled. "Let's have a drink on that. Your captain had some decent canary."
He got out the wine and poured a glass for each of us. "You're a gentleman, Chris. So'm I, and a king's officer, eh? Even if he won't own to me out loud. We can be pals without agreein' on everythin' under the sun, can't we?"
I said, "Yes, absolutely."
"So drink up. Want to join us? No, I can see you don't. Per'aps you'll change your mind later though."
He sipped his wine, smacked his lips, and chuckled. "Want to know what happens at Westminster? The Dago ambassador comes to the king and complains about me. The king and all his ministers look grave as parsons and say I'll be dealt with severely, and as fast as they can lay hands 'pon me. When he's gone, they have a good laugh and another drink."
He drained his glass. "We'll sell the cargo of this ship in Port Royal, and we'll sell it cheap because sellin' it anyplace else would mean a long voyage. My men'll spend their share of the price we get there, too, or most of it. A lot of that will end up in London as taxes. So what I do helps England and hurts Spain. How many nights' sleep has the king lost tryin' to dream up a surefire way to rein in Bram Burt, do you think?"
I said, "None, I guess."
"Exactly right."
Capt. Burt sat down again. "I said the men spend their takin's in Port Royal. Mostly it's wagered and wagered again till it's lost. I fancy a girl and a glass as much as any other man, Chris, but I don't gamble unless I feel sure I can win. I've chests buried on two islands, and one fine day I'll dig 'em up, put a bit more with 'em, and turn my prow to England, a rich man. Squire Burt, eh? Me and the old'uns, we'll live in a house with thirty rooms and servants, and every maid in Surrey will set her cap for Squire Burt, the man that brought home a fortune from the West Indies."
I did not know what to say, so I nodded.
"I won't ask you to join us, Chris. I've asked twice already, and I don't ask most men even once. But anytime you change your mind, sing out. I'll keep you here on my ship for a bit so you can see how it's done, then we'll see about gettin' you a ship of your own. You've a hammock in the fo'c'sle? And a seabag?"
I said I did, a small one.
"Fine. Fetch 'em both. You're my prisoner, so I can't have you minglin' with my crew. But I don't want to clap you in irons, 'cause I know you'll come 'round. Stay close, so you get an education, eh? Stay close and stay awake."
I said, "Aye aye, sir."
"You'll answer to 'All hands,' but won't stand watch. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, 'less you want to feed the fish." So that was how it was for a while. Capt. Burt slept in the captain's bunk, I in my hammock, slung on the other side of the cabin, which was not very large by landsmen's standards. I hung around him, ran errands when he told me to, and tried to learn. Once or twice I was pretty badly tempted to join, but I never did.
Here is the thing. The clothes were different, the talk was different, and even the guns and rackets were different, but he wanted me to be a wiseguy. I did not know much about wiseguys, and I do not know much now. But I knew enough, even back then, to know that I did not want to be one. I do not think my father wanted me to be one either. That was why he sent me to Our Lady of Bethlehem in the first place, or I think that it must have been.
In a minute I'm going to tell about pirates, but there is not any real difference between pirates and wiseguys. One is at sea and the other is in cities. A big part of it is money, and money is just another way of saying freedom. If you have money, you can do pretty much whatever you want to do. (If you do not believe me, look at the people who have it.) You eat what you want to eat and you drink when you want to drink. Can have two or three women at the same time, if that is what you want. You can sleep late if you want to, and you do not have to work. If you want fifteen suits, you can have fifteen suits, and you can travel if that's what you want. If you like a certain kind of work, you can do it. But nobody can make you.
That is not exactly how it is for pirates or wiseguys either, but it is close. And that is why they do it.
You take a pirate ship like the Weald, which was the new name they gave the Santa Charita. Twenty-six of us had done all the work. But when we left Port Royal we had almost a hundred on board. Capt. Burt explained to me that he needed to have men enough to work the sails and man all the guns at once. And of course he was right, and it meant there were a lot more hands to do the work, so no one had to work very hard. Somebody who worked too slow might get yelled at, but he never got hit with a rope or anything like that. If he was really goofing off, eight or ten others would jump him-I saw that happen to a guy named Sam MacNeal, and I will tell about him pretty soon if I have time-but nobody could just stand there with a rope and give it to him.
There was a lot of drinking, and there was one man in the crew who was pretty drunk all the time. Everybody just let him alone. They said he did it about once a year, and it would stop when he could not get any more. He would be sick then for about a week, and after that a good sailor and one of the bravest men on board. They called him Bill Bull, and that may have been his real name. We all stunk but he stunk worse, and anytime I get tempted to drink a lot (which does not happen much) I remember Bill Bull and how bad he smelled.
In Port Royal, after we sold the cargo, the money got split up according to rule, which was basically one share for every man on board except me. Capt. Burt did the splitting and got ten shares, and if he put a little extra into his own pocket, I would not be surprised. It always seemed to me like he had green eyes. Still, every man got a lot, and in Port Royal he could buy anything he wanted.
And I mean anything. If it was for sale anywhere in the world, it was for sale in Port Royal. Things that were not for sale anywhere else were for sale there, too.
There is another thing I ought to say about pirates. Last night I saw a movie on TV about us, and it got a lot wrong. The worst thing was ages. Everybody on that pirate ship looked like he was at least thirty, and a lot seemed ten or twenty years older. Real pirates are not like that. Pirates are just about all young. A lot of our men were sixteen or seventeen, and I do not believe there was anyone on the Weald as old as thirty.
Capt. Burt did not put her into dry dock, but we had carpenters come aboard, and a sailmaker and so forth, and he made a lot of changes. When we put out again, we had bigger guns and more of them and the mainmast was fore-and-aft-rigged instead of square. It meant the ship would not be as fast before a following wind, or as easy to handle with a wind like that either. But it would be easier in general, it could turn a lot handier, and it could sail closer to the wind.
There is a lot more that I could tell, but I think most of it will be better and clearer later on. Let me just say here that having no money I stayed on the ship most of the time and tried to take care of things there, which Capt. Burt appreciated and thanked me for. And that when we put out again there were two carronades on the quarterdeck, and Capt. Burt and I shared the captain's cabin with a long nine.
There was more trouble about MacNeal, too, and when we came to a little island pretty close to Jamaica that had a few trees on it and no people, we just put him ashore there and left him.
6
Captain Chris
After I saw what they did with MacNeal, and how he begged, a
nd how they did it anyhow, I thought sure that was what was going to happen to me. I knew that if I was left on a little island like that with a bottle of rum, my seabag, and a pistol, I would probably die. Not because I would shoot myself like they thought MacNeal would-I would never do that-but from hunger and thirst. I would try to fish, and dig up shellfish if there were any, set out shells to catch water when it rained, and hold on as long as I could. But if nobody picked me up in a week or two, I would die.
I said to myself, "All right, I'll die. But I won't beg, and I won't murder." It sounded good, but I was not sure I could really keep to it, especially the part about not begging.
Then we sighted a ship. "Dago, by the look of her," Capt. Burt said. And he had a couple of men get out the signal box and run up 'Ware pirates in Spanish. I told them how to spell it.
After that they wanted to talk, the captain shouting at us through a megaphone, and us yelling, "No tan aprisa! Que? Mas despacio!" and so forth. When our side lay a half cable from theirs, we ran out the guns and told them that if they surrendered their lives would be spared.
They started to run out their own guns-three small pieces on that side-and we gave them a broadside. I do not mean that I helped fire those shots. I was with the foremast men, but I was part of the crew when they were fired. There is no getting around that. And I helped Capt. Burt with the Spanish.
Our broadside did quite a bit of damage and killed most of the gun crews. They surrendered and we boarded. Capt. Burt told me to come with him, and I did. I do not mean that he made me. He just gave the order, and I did it. I am not going to lie about it, not to you and not to myself.
She stunk. The whole ship stunk something terrible. I said something about it, and Capt. Burt said she was a slaver and they all stunk like that.
When I heard there were slaves on board, I went below. The men were chained on platforms about two feet apart, layer after layer of them. They could not get off. The women were loose in the hold, some of them with babies. (Later we found Azuka hiding in the captain's cabin.) The shit and piss and vomit and everything else went down into bilges, some of it. And some stayed right where it was.