“I think this is exactly the weapon that Mr. O’Delle wants,” said Ine quietly.
“Explain, Ine. This may be important,” Tom urged her. “Is there something about the weapon that is special? Does it have magical properties? Is it valuable?”
Ine nodded and took the uchigatana from her sash, placing it on the table so Tom and Molly could both easily see it. Ine then recounted the same legend she had told to Geoffrey when he had asked about her past and the sword’s origin. Tom and Molly listened with great interest, looking at each other knowingly as the seriousness of the scenario escalated in their minds.
“Thank you, Ine,” said Tom, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his forehead. “I’m guessing you joined my crew for reasons other than needing work and that you did not intend to cause me any trouble.”
“No, no I do not wish to—”
“It’s all right, Ine,” Tom said quickly, stopping her. “By sharing these details with Molly and me, you’ve acted in this crew’s best interest, so we are going to first take measures to upset Decius’s scheme, and then, Ine, I promise I will do whatever I can to see that you get to wherever you are going safely.”
“Yes, thank you,” she said with a quick bow of her head and a smile.
“Molly, find Morgan and tell him that we are to stop at Praia tonight. Cape Verde is our last chance to land anywhere before we are out in open ocean and vulnerable.”
“Should I bring him here after?” she asked, getting up and walking to the cabin door.
“Yes, I’ll need to make sure Morgan, Geoffrey and Leon all understand our plans. I have an idea,” he said, “which I am going to discuss with Miss Matsuda right this moment.”
****
Tom didn’t hide his amusement as he stood on deck and watched Decius and his men stewing in irritation. Shortly after Morgan had called all hands to the deck and announced an impromptu stop in Praia, the Bureau soldiers had poked their heads out of their cabins and come topside, silently asking one another what was going on. Decius, in particular, was in a bad mood, and when Tom asked him what was troubling him, Decius blamed it on the food he’d eaten for dinner.
“All hands on deck!” called Morgan, rousing every last man on board. “Land’s approaching fast!” Tom had ordered him to inform the crew of their plans to anchor in Praia for one hour, and to keep a count of who accepted the invitation to come ashore. Decius and his men would not be leaving the ship, so whoever opted to stay with them was a suspect in favor of the mutiny. By the time the ship had stopped in Praia, about one third of the crew apparently still sided with Tom, loading up in shore boats.
Molly, lingering behind until the last boat was launched, ran into Chera and pulled her aside long enough to give her the gist of what was going on. “While we’re gone, you ought to see if you can convince Decius that now is an excellent time to surprise us and take the ship,” she whispered.
“I’ll do just that,” said Chera. “How long will you be ashore?”
“One hour.”
“He’ll jump at this chance.”
“Good.”
The last of the shore boats faded from view before Decius began to prepare a surprise assault for Tom and his friends, needing no suggestion from Chera. All the deck guns were loaded as well as the cannons below. One of the crew had stolen the keys to the locked armory and armed all the men not already positioned on a gun. Decius and Macius oversaw these preparations, and each of the Bureau soldiers was ordered to manage his own small fraction of the crew. Decius grinned and paced about the deck in excitement, pleased with his luck and his tactical cunning, convinced that he would take the ship that night with no struggle at all.
In the hour they had on land in Praia, Tom, Molly, Leon, Geoffrey, Morgan and Ine carefully planned their counter-mutiny. Meanwhile the loyal third of the crew enjoyed a round of drinks, though not enough to make them stupid and useless. If all went as planned, none of them would be needed anyway, but, Tom had thought, nothing ever went exactly as planned when he was the one driving the action.
At the same time Decius was marching around the deck of The Roatán Butterfly, Tom loaded his crew back onto the shore boats; he, Leon and Ine in the first of the three, while Molly and Geoffrey brought up the rear. When the ship first came into sight, before initiating his plan, Tom had a few words for the crew in the shore boats.
“Gentlemen, did you enjoy your drinks?” he asked, in a friendly manner, to which the crew responded with grateful cheers. “Excellent! I had you all come along, because—and I will be honest—I do not know which, if any, of you had considered participating in tonight’s mutiny.”
The crew became quiet, and some of the men turned down their eyes nervously.
“I brought you all ashore so I could demonstrate the consequences of treachery. Your crewmates onboard my ship who decided they would rather desert me than come ashore for a drink are about to be made examples of, so pay attention,” he concluded with a dark smile. “All right, Ine.”
Tom sat down as Ine got to her feet, rocking the little shore boat. Drawing Yatagarasu from its sheath, she adjusted her footing and turned the blade so that it faced the water point-down. The blade hissed and turned black as soot, conjuring a thick fog that blanketed the water’s surface and rolled toward the ship in the distance. Some of the crew in the shore boats jumped in surprise as the dark water around them came to life, rippling with movement. The sooty black ooze coating Yatagarasu dripped off its edge like syrup, striking the water and sinking fast. Hissing louder, the sword spewed opaque clouds of fog that shaded the coast around Praia so thickly that no one in the shore boats realized how close they had come to the ship, whose crew hadn’t yet seen them through the haze.
“Let’s get some lights on deck,” Decius shouted, “lest we look like fools when they come right up under our noses!” No one could see Praia or the coast through the dark fog that had come off of the land in the past quarter hour. The annoying change of weather had crippled Decius’s line of sight, and for the second time that night his pleasant mood was ruined. “What is this fog?” he growled, storming around the deck.
The deck hands had become quieter and quieter until Decius’s was the only voice making any sound on the ship. He stopped and looked around at the men who, posted at the guns, were listening to a strange noise. The sounds of scraping against the ship’s hull and an occasional tapping or banging were easy to hear, but where it was coming from, no one could tell.
“Who is below deck?” Decius demanded of one of his soldiers. “Go and tell them to keep silent, and if it isn’t them, find out what is making that sound!”
A cry of surprise came from somewhere in the fog. Metal struck against metal several times, and footsteps drummed on the planking. A grunt and a shout followed. A shot was fired. Decius walked swiftly around in every direction, swatting at the dark haze hampering his vision. Another shout came from the opposite direction. Two more shots were fired and then panic struck the deck hands. The silence broke as the men abandoned the guns and drew their swords. Several times Decius was nearly knocked over by frightened men who ran into him and tripped over themselves.
“What is happening?” he demanded, seizing one of the crew and shaking him. “What’s the matter with all of you?”
A whine of steel distracted Decius, and he threw the man aside in time to dodge the swipe of a blade that came within an inch of his head. As he turned, Macius came out of the dark and drew a set of daggers, throwing himself at Decius’s attacker. Macius grunted as he was caught by the arms and tossed aside. The attacker stood up and advanced again. Decius, an expert with knives and daggers, snatched his favorite weapon, a jambiya, from his belt and positioned himself to receive the attacker’s next strike.
When the attacker’s blade whistled through the air again, Decius stepped inside his reach, folded his arm around the attacker’s to trap him, and jabbed the jambiya into his ribs. However, the attacker did not fall or even weaken. Instead he shoved
Decius down with a butt of his elbow. Not until Decius got to his feet did he see the attacker clearly for the first time.
The attacker, dressed lightly in a strange foreign armor, carried a sword like the one Matsuda Ine had, long and curved just so. What Decius couldn’t take his eyes from, though, was the man’s face—the face of a long-dead warrior whose eyes were wrinkled shut and dried like old leather, and whose jaw hung open and toothless like a dead fish’s. White sprigs of mustache stuck out from his upper lip and chin like old broom bristles. The wound inflicted by the jambiya, though ghastly, had done nothing to the senseless soldier.
An unannounced gust of wind cut across the deck of the ship and whipped up the fog. Decius backed away from the dead soldier and held out his dagger in defence, shielding his face from the blast of air. As the fog cleared, he could see more and more soldiers like the one that had attacked him. They were everywhere, coming from the dark in such great numbers as to surround and trap the crew, who were now packed together like sheep. Macius, Decius and Chera were among them, weapons drawn hopelessly in the face of the army that had overwhelmed them so unexpectedly.
A rattling came from the droves of ghost soldiers. Decius turned to see Tom walking toward him, Ine close behind, one hand on Yatagarasu and the other outstretched like a puppeteer’s. The Uyl Talisman on Tom’s right arm chattered as the winds blew away the rest of the fog billowing out of Ine’s blade.
“Thomas Crowe,” said Decius, breathing heavily. His fingers squeezed the handle of the jambiya eagerly.
“That’s right,” answered Tom.
Decius relaxed, stood up straight, and took off his coat casually, giving it a jostle as if he were going to fold it.
“Put down your weapons,” Tom warned him and the others.
Decius said nothing. Suddenly, he swung his coat by the collar in a half circle from right to left. A jingle of metal came from the coat as dozens of knives tied to strings whipped out of the sleeves and breast, flying wildly in every direction. The flurry of knives blasted the ghost soldiers, who recoiled in surprise as the tips of the weapons exploded violently upon impact. Several of Tom’s crew were struck and killed instantly.
“Manus magia!” Tom shouted, calling upon a burst of magic from the jades concealed in his hands to deflect the rest away from him and Ine. Molly, Geoffrey, Morgan and Leon all ducked behind Ine’s army and out of harm’s way.
In the second between the explosions and confusion, Decius had made a mad dash for Tom, jabbing at him with his dagger. Tom crossed his arms to catch the downward stab and threw Decius backward and off balance, but Decius recovered and was on top of Tom again in no time, forcing himself inside Tom’s punches to try for another stab. Again, Tom shoved him backward. Grabbing an iron bucket from the deck, Tom hurled it at Decius’s face when he next charged. Decius shielded his face and kept moving, but Tom swung a leg and kicked his feet out from under him. When Decius hit the deck, Tom dropped a knee on Decius’s dagger hand and seized him by the throat, squeezing so hard Decius dropped the weapon.
Macius, having done nothing until that time, broke through the soldiers and fired a bolt of holy magic at Leon from a concealed pistol at his hip. Tom leapt away from Decius and came between Leon and Macius, receiving the would-be fatal shot before it touched the vampire, who’d had no time to evade. Macius reacted by hurling a coil of wire at Tom. The coil found its mark and snared and compressed Tom’s body, dropping him to the deck. Instantly, Leon retaliated and tackled Macius, keeping him at bay by holding Fantome to the grinning man’s neck.
The wire coil had wrapped painfully tight around Tom’s body, bursting into flames and sending him rolling and thrashing around deck. Decius, holding his throat in pain as he recovered, attempted to chase Tom down, but a concussive force blasted him from behind and filled his vision with spots. Molly, glowing brightly, came into view when his eyes stopped spinning, preparing to blow him to pieces. Decius dropped his dagger and held out his hands in surrender.
Tom, meanwhile, struggled to transform in order to break free of the hideous contraption with which Macius had bound him. Leon noticed first. Leaving Macius to be bound and restrained by Ine’s soldiers, he sped to Tom’s aid.
Tom roared and gagged as the wire coil tightened around his throat. His curse would take care of his flesh wounds but not if he strangled to death first. Yanking and pulling at the device only tightened it, and Tom couldn’t find a weakness.
“Thomas! Lie still!” Just as Tom began to turn blue, Leon reached him, whispering a secret incantation over Fantome. The blade gleamed and Leon drew it across the wire coil, severing the durable metal like string. Tom took Leon’s hand as he stood, catching his breath and rubbing his sore neck. Most of Tom’s torso was burned and cut, but the curse was already working on repairing his flesh. By then, both Macius and Decius were subdued by Ine’s soldiers, being stripped of arms and dragged off to the brig. Tom and Leon exchanged a look of understanding.
The crew, afraid to interfere during the entire scuffle, dispersed and immediately began preparing the ship for launch, none wanting to suffer Tom’s wrath for the mutiny. Under Morgan’s direction, they followed their orders and worked double-time to get the ship out to sea. Disappointed because he couldn’t recite the lecture he’d prepared for them, Tom growled to himself and went below deck, where Decius, Macius, Chera and the Bureau soldiers were being thrown into a small, dark cell in the brig.
“You haven’t succeeded in anything,” spat Decius as soon as Tom arrived. “Get off of me!” he shouted at one of the soldiers, kicking him away. “I’ll get out of here the moment you turn your back, and you can’t keep me from it.”
“Bring me irons,” Tom said, turning to one of his crew.
“That won’t keep us still,” said Decius, shaking his head and laughing. “No one has ever kept Macius and Decius in a cell for more than a day. No one! Do you know who we are?”
“That’s why I’m not keeping you in a cell,” said Tom, ordering the man with the irons to distribute them to some of the others.
Decius stopped laughing as—one by one—Tom and Leon removed the Bureau soldiers from the cell and took them up to the main deck in chains. When it was Macius’s turn, Tom had his arms chained together at the wrists and elbows behind his back, then his legs bound at the ankles and knees. The same was done to Decius, who squirmed and swore at the top of his lungs as he was carried up to the deck.
The deck hands gathered around to watch as each of the Bureau soldiers, lined up on a plank, were prodded farther out on it until they fell over the ship’s edge and smacked the dark ocean surface below. Decius shouted in anger as Macius was propped up on the plank and silently shuffled off the end.
“Do you think this will keep us away?” Decius was yelling. “You can’t kill us!”
“I know this won’t kill you,” Tom said, lifting Decius off his shoulder and setting him on his feet and shoving him out on the plank. “But I want you to remember what a nightmare it was escaping from Captain Thomas Crowe.” Tom’s smirk drove Decius into a frenzy.
Molly, looking on from the background, frowned during the whole scene. Thomas was his old self again. She hoped it was only because he was close to death, acting out of defence and trying to survive. When Morgan stepped up to the plank and gave it a kick, Decius wobbled and slipped, falling forward and smacking his head on the wood before floundering overboard and crashing into the sea. When the crew began to hoot and cheer, Molly left for her and Tom’s cabin, unable to watch anymore.
Chera was next to be brought on deck. Tom gave her a hard look, and the crew hushed. All eyes watched the captain, wondering what would happen to the beautiful pirate, who stood proudly and defiantly in place, pushing away the men who’d escorted her from the brig.
“Where would you like to be taken?” asked Tom.
“What do you mean? I am not going anywhere,” said Chera.
“We’re not keeping you as a prisoner.”
“I don
’t have a ship. I don’t have a crew. That means I am out of business.”
“I was told you were the captain of The Quetzal II,” said Tom.
“I still am,” she affirmed.
“Where’s your ship?”
“Bottom of the Caribbean.”
Some of the crew chuckled and poked one another with their elbows.
“I mean to pay you off quickly, so I don’t have a debt attached to you,” Tom said.
“How about a ship?” she suggested, shifting her weight and rocking to one side impatiently.
“This is the only one I have right now, and you won’t be getting it.”
“You lost about eight men tonight. Hire me on, and you won’t have to replace the other seven.”
Tom thought about it. Nothing about Chera bothered him. She certainly didn’t have any interest in going back to the Bureau, and he didn’t want to have to go out of his way to take her to shore somewhere. In addition, she gave the men something to talk about, which kept them from complaining about food or sleeping accommodations. Plus, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting her from them. She was essentially another Molly, with no sense of mercy or self-denial.
“Anything you do particularly well, Miss Rocha?” Tom asked, wanting to see if he could find a position in particular for her.
“Shoot, drink and discipline,” was her answer.
“Welcome aboard.” Tom shook Chera’s hand and asked her down to the galley, where they would discuss her duties. The crew, haunted by Chera’s last words, went back to work at Morgan’s command, and The Roatán Butterfly flew toward the open Atlantic.
That night, the entire ship was in high spirits. Having dispelled the nagging presence of the Bureau and tossed Decius, Macius and their men overboard, Tom’s crew was rewarded once more by a generous dinner and some alcohol from the cabinets Tom normally kept locked. In the galley, some of the men played dice and drank, while others carried on up on the main deck, playing a few jigs and singing old shanties. Geoffrey and Ine even danced, but not without some coercion on Chera’s behalf. The young magescribe enjoyed Ine’s undivided attention all evening because Leon had gone to chat with Tom and Molly in the captain’s quarters.
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