Wake of the Bloody Angel el-4

by Alex Bledsoe

The tug of the two mysteries-what happened to the ships, and whether Marteen was involved-kept me antsy and ill-tempered. The ship’s routine became even more maddening since I had no real part in it. The one bright spot was the ongoing sword-fighting lessons, now attended by everyone not actively on duty. The deck was almost too small for all who wanted to participate. Suhonen quickly became a second teacher, absorbing what I demonstrated and tweaking it for ship-to-ship combat. I started to learn as much as I taught.

  The men were tough enough as a group, but they had no individual discipline. They counted on intimidating their opponents as much as they did outfighting them, which was a holdover from their piracy days. What I tried to show them was that when they waved their swords overhead and screamed curses, they left their entire torsos wide open to a simple thrust to the heart. If we’d been in combat against a trained force, they’d have been massacred. It took a lot of drilling to break those old habits, but they began to operate more quietly, and with more lethal efficiency, as every day passed.

  The night after we sent the Vile Howl back to Blefuscola, I was on deck with Suhonen and his friends. We’d passed the rum around, and I’d gotten more talkative than usual, telling them about some of my adventures. I chalked it up to the drink, but truthfully, I was growing to really like these guys. They were men who’d voluntarily changed their lives, yet still found a way to operate largely on their own terms. I admired that.

  “How’d ye meet Cap’n Jane?” one of them asked. The others eagerly repeated the question.

  “We crossed paths professionally,” I said, and tried to leave it at that, but they insisted on more, so I relented. “I was handling security at a conference of lords and ministers trying to hash out a border dispute. Jane was bodyguarding one of the lords, whom somebody knifed during a formal dance. She took it personally. We did some questioning, figured out who was telling the biggest lie in a castle full of professional liars, and ended up fighting it out with the personal guard of one of the other lords. Turns out, his wife was behind it all. She was hanged, and I split my bonus with Jane. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  That was the story, all right, but the truth was in the details. We’d caught two groomsmen who were in on the plot but refused to say who was behind it. After we tied them to chairs, Jane produced a snake whip and said, “I’m going to use this on you both until one of you tells me what I want to know. That means one of you will take a whipping for nothing.” It took only three lashes before one of them cracked.

  Then, as the woman behind the murder tried to escape under the protection of her guards, Jane fell from a parapet and broke her leg, but still managed to hobble to the drawbridge and stop the vicious bitch from escaping. Think about that-one severely injured woman took down five professional soldiers single-handedly before I could make it down to join her. I watched her fight the fever for a week that resulted from her injury. When she came out of it, the first thing she asked was about the case. I gave her half my bonus because the family of the murdered man wasn’t going to pay her at all. I’d never doubted her toughness or her commitment to her job since.

  Suddenly there was a commotion from the hatch. Jane climbed on deck, dragging a struggling figure behind her. She looked around, spotted me, and came over. “Look who I found skulking about like a bilge rat.” She tossed Duncan Tew at my feet. He sat up and wiped his bloody nose.

  Damn. I’d forgotten to tell her.

  “Claimed he followed us from Watchorn and signed on here when I wasn’t looking,” she continued. “And he’s been hiding ever since.”

  “Uhm, actually-” I began.

  Duncan roared to his feet and put all his weight and strength into a punch to Jane’s chin. It was an uppercut that would’ve broken a normal person’s jaw, and it rocked Jane back a step, but she didn’t go down. Her eyes blazed with full-on battle fury and she reached for Tew, but I stepped between them. “No, wait, settle down, both of you.”

  Duncan tried to get past me, so enraged, he didn’t realize Jane was truly mad enough to kill him. Suhonen grabbed him by the hair and held him. “The man said settle down.”

  “You, too, Jane,” I said warningly, in a tone I wouldn’t use on her unless it was life or death. Given the murderous look in her eye, I was pretty certain it was. She stopped, the cords in her neck straining, then settled down. “What?” she snarled.

  “I knew he was here. He came up to me and told me. I just forgot to tell you.”

  She glared at Duncan. “Really?”

  Suhonen still had him by the hair, so he just said, “Yeah.”

  Jane took a deep breath, and the rage faded. She held up one hand; her bejeweled fingers trembled with the fury she would’ve poured into Duncan. “You’re a lucky man. That’s how close it came.” Then she smiled, laughed, and walked away to the stern.

  “Let him go,” I said to Suhonen. Duncan spent a moment shrugging his clothes back into place, then said, “If that bitch thinks she can-”

  “That bitch knows she can,” I said. “And you know she can, too. So shut up. This was my fault, and I want her mad at me, not you. Understand?”

  Like her, he took a deep breath, but his anger didn’t entirely fade. “What ever,” he said. “Just keep her away from me, okay?”

  “She’s not on a leash,” I said. “You’ll have to do some of that yourself.”

  When Duncan had gone back belowdecks, Suhonen asked quietly, “How do you know him?”

  I figured this was as good a way as any to test his honesty. “Just between us?”

  Suhonen nodded.

  “He’s the son of Black Edward Tew.”

  Suhonen’s expression didn’t change. “Really.”

  “Yes. His mother’s the one who hired me. He never knew either of them, but everyone where he was raised knew who his father was, and held it against Duncan all his life.”

  “That might put you in a permanently bad mood,” Suhonen agreed.

  I was impressed with his empathy. It wasn’t a quality I associated with my idea of giant ex-pirates. “That’s what I figure, too.” Then we rejoined his friends and resumed telling lies about how tough we were. I knew if word got around about Duncan’s parentage, there would be only one source. I truly hoped Suhonen proved trustworthy.

  The next day, Duncan Tew showed up at swordfighting class. I didn’t know if Suhonen or Jane had said something to him, or if he’d simply decided he needed to know more than he did. I quickly realized that wouldn’t be hard-he had virtually no sense of how to handle a weapon. After class, as the half-dozen novices walked away rubbing their sore wrists, I motioned for Duncan to step aside.

  He looked at me suspiciously. “I know, I’m not very good at this. Killing people isn’t something I’m really looking forward to.”

  “You shouldn’t, but that’s not what I wanted to say.” I paused to get the right words together. “I’m sorry for being so rough on you.”

  “I have to learn it, don’t I?”

  “No, I don’t mean today. I mean since we met. I tend to see the worst reasons for people doing things, and usually I’m right. But not always.”

  The insolent defensiveness in his glare slowly faded. “Well… thanks. I appreciate it. Does that mean you and your lady friend won’t smack me around anymore?”

  “I can’t speak for her, but I don’t think she’ll need to.” Again I paused. “Who’s taking care of your children while you’re gone?”

  “April moved back in with her parents. They’ll be fine.”

  “Why are you here? Really.”

  He looked out at the sea. “You saw my sons, right? They’re more important to me than I can explain using words. I need to know who I am, so I can make sure I don’t turn into the man my father was. Then maybe they won’t turn into me.”

  “Your father never knew about you.”

  “You say. I want to hear it from his own lips. Tell a man you’re his son, he either takes it as good news or bad news. That’ll tell me all
I need to know.”

  “What does your wife think?”

  “She doesn’t think I’m coming back, but I’ll show her.”

  “You know, she’s not the enemy.”

  “You haven’t lived with her.”

  “No, but…” I stopped. I was about to offer relationship advice, and I had no business doing that. I managed what I hoped was a friendly smile. “You know, you’re right. I don’t know your situation.”

  “What were you going to say?” He added earnestly, “Really, I’d like to know.”

  “Just that you and she are supposed to be on the same side. The enemy is anyone else who comes after either one of you.”

  “Is that how you and your wife are?”

  It seemed pointless to explain that no, I wasn’t married, but yes, I was committed. So I nodded.

  “I miss her, you know,” he said quietly. “We may fight all the time, but to tell you the truth, I like the way she fights.”

  “You’ve got time. If she really doesn’t think you’ll come back, then showing her that she’s wrong will go a long way toward fixing things.”

  “What if she’s found somebody else by then?”

  “Well, that’s always a chance. And if it happens, you’ll have to deal with it. But remember, what those boys see you do is what they’ll think a man is supposed to do. Make sure they see the right things.”

  He sat up a little straighter when I called him a man. Raised without a real father, by people who never let him forget his origin, he’d probably never been called that. I patted his shoulder and left him there, afraid that if I kept going like this, I’d soon be giving him fashion tips.

  As I headed toward the hatch, I met Jane emerging. She acted as if yesterday’s altercation had never happened. “How’d the babysitting class go?”

  “You could help, you know. Especially with the beginners.”

  “Me? I’m the worst teacher imaginable.”

  “But they need a good opponent. Right now they’re just clacking swords together like kids. They don’t seem to realize they’re supposed to try to hit the other guy, not just his weapon.”

  She laughed. “Maybe when I’m too old to swing a blade myself, I’ll paint a bull’s-eye on my back and rent myself out as a target.” She looked out at the sea. “Man, I just spent an hour helping Seaton work out our course. It’s really hard to tell where that ship came from. I couldn’t do that much math if you put a crossbow to my head.”

  Quietly I asked, “And how are things with the captain?” She shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.” “Have you talked to him?”

  “No. But I’ve tried to… not provoke him.”

  “I noticed. Thanks.”

  “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

  “I know. You could do worse.”

  “I have done worse. Last time I saw worse, he was chained to a rock, whining that his ankle was chafed.”

  “But your word is your word.” It wasn’t a question.

  She nodded. “If it’s not, what have I got left?”

  I started to quote the play myself, but knew better. In Jane’s case, as in mine, who you give your word to is irrelevant. Your word is your word.

  I excused myself to go clean up after class. Dorsal sat in the corner outside my door, and jumped up as soon as he saw me.

  “How are you today, sir?” he asked brightly.

  “I’m okay,” I said. I wondered where he slept when he wasn’t huddled here. “And how about you?”

  He beamed. “Shipshape and wagon tough, sir!”

  I laughed. “That’s a good one.” I went into my cabin, shut the door, and sat down on my bunk. It was hot, still, and quiet as the ship rolled over the waves, and my eyelids grew heavy. I lay back, stared at the waving lamp hanging from the ceiling, and tried to focus on my case. That was usually helpful, but now it simply made me too frustrated to sleep. There was absolutely nothing I could do to speed the process along, and if we didn’t find something or someone soon, I might slaughter my beginner’s class just to keep from going mad.

  Or worse, I might keep giving people advice.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Seaton gave us a heading based on the Vile Howl ’s logbook, and we followed it. I mean, I guess we did. We sighted no land, the sea looked the same, and I could never navigate by the stars the way sailors could. It appeared, by the sun, that we headed southwest. It certainly got no cooler.

  Clift kept two men posted atop the foremast crosstrees at all times. No one was going to slip up on the Red Cow. I wondered if perhaps we were overlooking the obvious reason for our villain’s actions, whoever he was: maybe clearing the sea of traffic was the point. But again, we were brought back to the why. What good is a pirate without ships to attack? The more I thought about it, the more I was certain some crucial bit of information eluded us. As it stood, the puzzle made no sense at all.

  When I discussed it with Jane, she was just as perplexed. “You clear things, usually, to make sure you have room for something else. Troops clear a road so an army can travel. But goddamn, the ocean’s already mostly empty.”

  “So is it just someone showing off? ‘Look how powerful I am’?”

  “Fuck, Eddie, I don’t know. But I tell you, I’m about ready to bury a blade in somebody, and if we don’t find some bad guys soon, I can’t promise it won’t be one of the good guys.”

  I knew what she meant. Even the daily sword practice did little to help my impatience.

  One night over dinner, Suhonen-who had been admitted to the captain’s table, his huge size making us all feel like kids sitting in the corner while the grown-ups ate in the main hall- demonstrated his innate knack for logical thinking, something he’d previously kept to himself. “The one constant thing they’ve taken is the ship’s medicine chest, right? Maybe someone’s sick.”

  “Maybe, but they’ve taken an awful lot of medicine, more than enough for a ship’s crew,” Jane said.

  “What if the sick people aren’t on the ship?” he said.

  “That’s an idea,” I said. “How well settled is this part of the world?”

  “Pretty much every place that can be occupied, is,” Jane said. “There are a lot of small uninhabited islands, but even those are well known and used to replenish supplies. Not a lot of surprises left in this part of the ocean.”

  “Only takes one,” Suhonen pointed out.

  And there was only one needle in the proverbial haystack, an analogy that grew more apt with each passing day. We thought we were in the right area, but that was as specific as we could get, and now it was a matter of persis tence and luck. Only one of those things was under our control.

  Finally, just after sunrise, on a day as fine and clear as any, one of the lookouts yelled down, “Ship to port!”

  Clift gave orders that Seaton repeated. Men scurried up the shrouds and rushed to the ropes on deck. Jane and I pushed our way through the crowd of unoccupied crew at the bow rail.

  We waited for additional information. I’d never heard the Cow so silent during the day. Finally the lookout said, “No pennant, no sails. No sign of life!”

  “Another one,” Greaves said. “Another ghost.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Clift snapped, “especially not where the crew can hear.”

  “Aye, sir. My indiscretion.”

  “Bring us alongside, Mr. Seaton. You know the drill.”

  Sails were adjusted, ropes were pulled and tied, and the Red Cow turned to port, heading directly toward the oncoming vessel. Mr. Dancer’s gun crew readied themselves, and the rest of the men made sure they were armed with swords, axes, and cutlasses. A few of the men, too nervous to just stand around and watch, went through the exercises I’d been teaching; I only hoped they’d remember them in the thick of battle. Could that be what happened to all the other ships, even the Vile Howl — their crews panicked? But what could rattle a bunch of ex-pirates so badly? These were men who knew all the tricks of both sides
.

  As we closed in on this new vessel, we quickly saw it was not just “another one.” For one thing, this ship bore no name or other form of identification. Her hull was worn and faded, and all the deck fixings were stained with rust and corrosion. She was bigger than the Red Cow, with three masts to our two. Yet she sat perfectly upright, her empty masts swaying only slightly in the breeze that drove us.

  “Where are her sails?” Jane asked softly.

  “Is that important?”

  “Yeah. I mean, she had to get out here somehow. Her sails aren’t furled, they’re gone. No rigging at all, just masts and spars. Somebody took down all the canvas deliberately.”

  “Why?”

  “So she’d stay put, I imagine. She must be anchored.” She shook her head. “What the hell is she?”

  “Beats me,” Clift answered. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s just a generic ship. She hasn’t been fitted out for any particular purpose. She’s not a warship, nor a cargo vessel, nor designed to carry passengers.”

  “Then what’s keeping her upright?” one of the sailors inquired. No one answered.

  “She must be anchored,” Jane repeated.

  “This water’s far too deep for anchorage,” Seaton said.

  “Then why the hell isn’t she moving?” Jane said.

  “Belay that order to come alongside, Mr. Seaton,” Clift said. “Keep us at a distance.”

  “Aye, sir,” Seaton said, then shouted to the crew. We slowed and turned to starboard, then back to port until we were parallel to the strange ship but with fifty yards of water between us.

  “You ever hunt geese, Mr. LaCrosse?” Suhonen said, so quietly only I heard.

  “When I was a kid,” I said.

  “Then you’ll know what this ship reminds me of.” He paused. “A decoy.”

  His insight sent cold chills through me. But if he was right, where were the hunters? The sea was empty in all directions; where could they have put their blind? Unless, of course, they waited out of sight in the ghost ship’s belly.

  “We’re putting off the inevitable,” Jane said. “We have to go over there.”