Secrets of the Realm

by Bev Stout

  Symington scoffed. "Ain't we good enough for ye, boy?"

  Stooping to avoid the low overhead, Smitty shoved Annie into the fo'c'sle while Symington walked unobstructed. Sailors rolled out of hammocks, others stood up from their cards. All crowded closer.

  Penned in, Annie gasped in the moist fetid air. She searched for a friendly face. The amicable Mr. Allan was nowhere to be found, but she saw Barrette. Since he had been a prisoner of the press gang, Annie believed he would understand her plight, but he avoided her gaze.

  Seeing Christopher through a gap in the throng, Annie's spirits buoyed, but were quickly dashed. He, too, ignored her plight while he whittled a piece of wood with frenzied abandon.

  Smitty pulled his sea chest out from under his hammock. "Have a seat, Andrés."

  Annie's legs went limp before Smitty pushed her down onto his sea chest.

  Symington bent down and hissed in her ear, "My little maggot, do ye know what we do to spies?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Defiant, Annie attempted to stand but Smitty shoved her back down.

  "Spy? Who would I be spying for?"

  "The captain, to tell him about our gamblin'."

  "I wouldn't do that."

  "Oh, wouldn't ye, now," Symington said. "Ye never liked me, much. Don't deny it"

  "Half the crew doesn't like you, Symington." Annie looked around at the stunned faces staring back at her. "It's the truth," she said. "But I hold no grudge against any of you."

  "Don't believe 'im," Symington said.

  "Bet you told the captain about our fightin', too," Smitty said.

  She had never seen any fighting. Pushing and shoving, maybe, but no real fighting. Some spy I am, she thought.

  "Close yer eyes, boy!" Symington ordered.

  "Wha—what?" Beads of perspiration soaked through Annie's shirt.

  "Are ye deaf? Close yer eyes!"

  She gawked at Symington and played her last card. "I don't have to do anything you tell me to do. I am Captain Hawke's cabin boy."

  In a high pitch voice, Smitty repeated her words, "I am Captain Hawke's cabin boy."

  The men broke out in laughter. Her heart sunk wondering if Christopher and Barrette had joined in.

  Symington raised his hand to hush the rowdy crowd. He surveyed the fo'c'sle with jaundiced eyes. "Ye think being Cap'n 'awke's cabin boy means anything down 'ere?"

  Courage drained from Annie's voice. "Aye?"

  "Captain 'awke doesn't set foot in 'ere and we're not guests in 'is cabin. What goes on down 'ere is none o 'is business. And we want to keep it that way. Now, do as yer told. Close yer eyes, maggot."

  Slouched over, she closed her eyes so tight they hurt. Water lapping against the ship's hull contrasted sharply with the blood Annie heard surging in her ears.

  "Let's throw him overboard," Smitty said.

  "Too quick. I say we keelhaul 'im. If yer lucky, my little maggot, ye will drown before the barnacles on the bottom of the ship rip ye to pieces," Symington said. "Ye might even survive, but I guess ye'd be missing a limb or two. We will be real quiet while ye make up yer mind."

  Annie shook her head. This can't be happening, she thought, but she wasn't giving up. Annie opened her eyes and stared Symington in the face. "You will never get away with this."

  "The more I think about it, throwing you overboard is the best idea," Symington said. "Sailors fall overboard all the time. The cap'n will think it was just a terrible accident. Now, close yer eyes or I'll close them for ye."

  The fo'c'sle became deathly silent once more. Her eyes shut tight, Annie waited—and wondered. Why did she have to keep her eyes closed? Why didn't Symington and his cohorts simply get the ugly deed over with? Was it to torture her? That must be it, she thought, and they were doing a grand job of it.

  When she thought she could no longer endure the wait, she heard two sets of footsteps coming toward her. She stiffened, but could tell it wasn't Symington or Smitty. One pair of footsteps was uneven, the other, strong and confident. Christopher? Barrette?

  "Andrés, open your eyes."

  Annie trusted no one, not even Christopher. Besides, if he had come to her rescue, he did not stand a chance against her shipmates, now her enemies.

  Christopher's request turned into a chant. One by one, the sailors joined in. "Open your eyes!"

  The chorus grew more insistent to a full crescendo. "Open your eyes! Open your eyes!"

  Close your eyes. Open your eyes. Why can't they make up their minds? Like the tears she choked back when her family died, Annie refused to succumb to the scream building in her throat. She then felt a warm breath on the nape of her neck.

  "Open your eyes, Andrés. I promise no one will harm you."

  First Christopher, now Barrette, Annie relaxed her shoulders. Maybe she was to receive a stay of execution. She was in no great hurry to find out. Afraid of what she might see, Annie took her time opening her eyes.

  Several feet in front of her, Christopher and Barrette stood on either side of Mr. Allan. They looked at her sympathetically, while Mr. Allan's cheery grin caught Annie completely off guard.

  "Don't be frightened, lad," he told her.

  Only seconds before, she was to meet a horrible death. Now she was told not to be frightened. She wondered if she were going mad.

  Her gaze fell to the bosun's hands. He held out a knife belt. A carved ivory monkey peeked above its leather sheath.

  "Do you remember this?" he asked.

  Annie's head bobbed up and down. "It is Captain Hawke's lucky knife."

  "Wasn't lucky for old Mason Rain," muttered Smitty.

  "It is your knife, Andrés, the one the captain promised you." Mr. Allan said. "He knew you couldn't have a blade as fine as this one without a proper knife belt."

  He motioned for her to stand. Her legs still wobbly, Annie complied.

  Symington thumped her on the back of the head. "Scared ye spitless, didn't we?"

  Wanting so badly to punch him, Annie balled her hands into fists, but she restrained herself.

  Mr. Allan motioned for Annie to raise her arms as he wrapped the belt around her slender waist. He admired his handiwork. "Ah, a splendid fit."

  The crew burst into cheers of, "Huzzah!"

  "It is quite handsome, sir." Confused, she scanned the faces of what now appeared to be friendly shipmates. "I don't understand what just happened."

  Mr. Allan explained. "Nothing gets past the captain. He told me to give it to you during one of your nightly visits."

  "Yer spying," said Symington.

  Annie got in his face. "No—my visits, that's what Captain Hawke called them."

  Mr. Allan chuckled. "The men needed something to amuse themselves, been some long days."

  Annie thought a moment. "So, I was nothing more than the crew's entertainment for the evening. Well, I hope I satisfied you."

  Annie glared at the men. Some looked away while others shuffled their feet. "Maybe next time you could simply ask me to sing a song or dance a jig for you. Oh, I know something even better. Maybe you could ask me to punch Symington in the face. Now, that would be entertaining."

  "I would like to see ye try," Symington said.

  "Now, now, we don't want to have any hard feelings," Mr. Allan said as he wedged himself between Annie and Symington. "You do know, Andrés, you are always welcome here in the fo'c'sle. Why don't you find yourself a hammock?"

  Barrette broke in, "Mr. Allan, if I had a choice to sleep in the surgeon's cabin or in the fo'c'sle with a bunch of sweaty tars, I know which one I would choose."

  Barrette to the rescue, again, Annie thought.

  "A point well taken, Barrette." Mr. Allan slapped Annie on the back, almost knocking her off her feet. "Off with you, now, Andrés."

  The sailors made a path for Annie as she made her way to the passageway. Symington's parting words resounded in her ears. "Scared 'im so bad, I am surprised the little maggot's 'eart is still beating."

  * * *


  Annie felt her way through the darkened cabin to where her blankets should have been. She patted the deck. They weren't there. Slightly lifting her head, Annie's forehead bumped into what felt like canvas.

  A candle sputtered to life in Doc's hand. "Do you like it?"

  "Oh, my!" Annie faced a hammock just her size. "Is it mine?"

  "It certainly is."

  She quickly removed the knife belt, placed it on the desk and pulled herself into the canvas. "Doc, it is perfect. Thank you so much."

  "Don't thank me. Captain Hawke had Baggot and Carter set it up."

  "The captain always expected me to move into the fo'c'sle. Now I have a hammock and we both know what that means. This is permanent, Doc. I get to stay here. But I don't understand. The captain had been so adamant about me moving into the fo'c'sle."

  "Apparently, he changed his mind."

  "Just like that," Annie snapped her fingers. "There must be a reason."

  "The important thing is you can stay here with me."

  Annie took off her cap and tossed it on the table. "Did you know I had been going to the fo'c'sle at night?"

  "Yes, Captain Hawke informed me. You are a spirited one, just like my Emily was. Now go to sleep."

  "Doc…"

  "Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow—too much excitement for one night."

  As Doc extinguished the light, Annie ran her fingers through her damp hair. "I have the forenoon watch tomorrow."

  "No more talking. Good night," Doc said.

  Annie remembered something Symington had said that troubled her. "Earlier this evening, Doc, Symington said something about the captain forgetting who he really is. Do you know what he meant by that?"

  "No, I don't, and I suggest you don't worry about it. Now, go to sleep."

  Annie knew it would be fruitless to pursue the subject further. "Good night, Doc," Annie said as the hammock hugged her into a contented sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Annie woke to the sound of eight bells. She poured herself out of the hammock. "That was the best sleep I have ever had."

  "Last night, did you say something about the forenoon watch?" Doc said as he stirred his tea.

  "Uh huh."

  "Well, if you have the forenoon watch, you are late. The morning watch just ended."

  "Just ended! I thought it just started. How could you have let me sleep in?"

  "You looked so peaceful. I did not wish to wake you," Doc said between sips of tea. "Don't worry. You won't be flogged for not bringing the captain his breakfast."

  "It is not his breakfast I am worried about. I am to be a lookout today, or at least I was supposed to be. Do you have any idea how important that is? This might be my last chance to prove that I am a sailor."

  Annie grabbed her cap off the table, and then slung the knife belt over her shoulder as she bounded for the door.

  "Stow your hammock," Doc called after her.

  "No time!" Annie said as she ran out of the cabin.

  * * *

  As Annie poked her head through the opened hatch, Captain Hawke waved his hand in the air. "Look men, Mr. de la Cruz has decided to join us this fine morning."

  There goes that eyebrow again, Annie thought as she climbed out onto the deck. She finished buckling her belt.

  "Take Christopher's place. Now!"

  "Aye, aye, Captain."

  Relieved she was still going to be a lookout, she made her way up the shrouds with the spyglass tucked in at her waist. Annie passed Christopher on his way down. "Good luck, mate," he said.

  Annie gave him a weak smile.

  * * *

  Two bells sounded. It was an hour into the forenoon watch. With the wind stinging her cheeks and the sails snapping below her, Annie scanned the sea with her spyglass.

  Four bells. Perched high on the lookout platform, she watched a whale breach the surface before plunging below the sea. "It is amazing up here."

  Six bells. She saw no more whales. The ocean stretched endlessly in every direction. Whether she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her legs cramped.

  Seven bells sounded. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Annie lifted her arm. With the spyglass to her eye, she saw a smattering of clouds on the horizon. Then she saw it, a two-masted ship. She admired it a moment then moved the glass lower. She saw yet another vessel. Annie studied this one longer than the first.

  Annie's heart pounded. "Two ships off to larboard. One is listing on her starboard side. The foremast and mainmast are down. There is another ship, a brigantine!" Annie shouted.

  Captain Hawke summoned Perry. He sent the sailor aloft to verify Annie's sighting.

  After climbing the shrouds, Perry stood next to Annie and gazed through the glass.

  "Do you see it?" Annie asked.

  "Our eyes often play tricks on us when we are out at sea, Andrés" he said.

  "I didn't imagine it, Perry, if that is what you are implying. I know I saw two ships."

  Perry continued searching. "Well, I'll be," he said. "Captain! Two ships. One's adrift."

  "Is one a brigantine?"

  "Aye, Captain!"

  "Perry, hand Andrés the glass."

  Annie peered through it again.

  "The two ships, what are their colors?" the Captain shouted.

  "Can't see either of their colors, Captain," Annie yelled back. "But the brigantine's coming about."

  Annie waited. It seemed like an eternity. Then she saw it. "Skull and crossbones! She's a bloody pirate ship!"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  "All hands on deck!" The captain roared, "Mr. Montgomery, assemble a boarding party."

  The Realm changed course.

  Annie handed the glass back to Perry and scrambled down the ratlines. She wasn't about to miss any opportunity that would put her in the good graces of her shipmates. She needed to be in that boarding party.

  No sooner had she landed on the deck, Captain Hawke stopped her.

  "Tell me about the ship in full sail," he said.

  Not being able to think of anything more to tell him, she instead asked, "The brigantine, Captain, could she be…" Annie knew if ever there was a time to mention the unmentionable, this was it. "Could she be the Crimson Revenge?"

  Captain Hawke's eyes narrowed, but not at her. He looked in the direction of the two ships. "A distinct possibility."

  "Then shouldn't we be heading away from her and not toward her?"

  "We are heading to the crippled vessel, not the pirate ship, Andrés. That one will be long gone before we get there. You are dismissed."

  Now that was a waste of time, Annie thought, as she dashed off to find Mr. Montgomery assembling his men for the boarding party.

  "I want to be in the boarding party, sir," she said.

  "Sorry, lad, I have already chosen my men."

  "I spotted the ship, sir. It seems only fitting that I should board her."

  Mr. Montgomery mulled it over and said, "Only because you're the one who spotted the ship, Andrés, will I ask the men if any of them are willing to give up their place for you. But don't get your hopes up."

  "Sir, Andrés can take my place on the boarding party." Barrette offered.

  Mr. Montgomery looked from Barrette to Annie. "Very well then, Andrés, you can take Barrette's place. This is serious business. You will follow orders. Is that understood?"

  "Aye, sir."

  "If the ship hasn't sunk by the time we get there, you are paired with me."

  * * *

  When the Realm came a safe distance alongside the drifting ship, the longboat was lowered into the sea.

  Mr. Montgomery commanded, "Man the boat!"

  As the sailors clambered aboard, Annie looked around at the crew. Seeing their grim faces, she wondered if she had made the right decision.

  Once the men pushed off, head oarsman Ainsworth, ordered, "Together, pull!"

  While the oars sliced through the sea, salt water sprayed Annie's face. With each st
roke, the gap narrowed between the two ships.

  "Andrés, pick up the stroke!"

  Annie pulled harder. She glanced over her shoulder. Not anchored, the ship's position had changed. She saw painted on the stern in bold letters its name, the Margaret Louise.

  Approaching the starboard side, Mr. Montgomery shouted, "Ahoy!" He waited, but only the groans of a dying ship greeted him.

  After he hurled a grappling hook over the ship's railing, Mr. Montgomery put his full weight on the rope. Confident the line was secure, he sent Rodrigues up the side while Ainsworth and his oarsmen kept the boat steady. It took Rodrigues no time to scale the side of the ship. As soon as he was aboard, he disappeared from view. When he reappeared, he held the Margaret Louise's rope ladder in his hands.

  Mr. Montgomery shouted, "Any survivors?"

  Dropping the ladder over the side, Rodrigues yelled down, "I saw only one sailor and he's dead, looks about Christopher's age."

  Despite the chill in the air, Annie wiped sweat from her palms onto her trousers. She looked over at Christopher. All color had drained from his face.

  Mr. Montgomery ordered the rest of the boarding party up the side. Annie nervously waited her turn as she watched each sailor ascend the ladder. Her turn came all too soon. Annie gripped the ladder, inhaled deeply, and began her climb.

  "Steady as you go," Mr. Montgomery said.

  Making her way up, Annie climbed over the railing. She joined the sailors assembled at one of the fallen masts staring down at the crushed body of a sailor. Christopher nudged it with his foot.

  "What you expect him to do, mate, get up and dance a jig for you?" Baggott said

  "Saints preserve me," Carter whispered while Rodrigues made the sign of the cross.

  Mr. Montgomery climbed over the railing. Everyone stepped aside for him to inspect the sailor who looked up with unseeing eyes. Observing that the man was obviously dead, Mr. Montgomery was more concerned with the sharp angle of the deck.

  "We don't have much time. Carter, Baggott check the storage areas. Christopher, Rodrigues stay on the upper deck and check under the downed canvass for any sailors who might have survived and are hiding. Andrés and I will make a quick sweep of the fo'c'sle and the quarters below."