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

by P. S. Bartlett

  “Well done. Take her to sea—south. Adam, remain with Gimby and report to me at the first sight of a ship.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “I suppose we were fortunate to have made land here, after all,” Miles said as he followed me down the gangway to my cabin and closed the door behind us.

  I sighed at the thought of a few moments rest and removed my long-coat, placing it on its proper hook by the door. Sitting at my desk, I motioned for Miles to take a seat and join me.

  “You are correct, sir. Had we not, we would have most certainly been spotted in the channel. Now, we at least know for certain we are being pursued.”

  “What do we do about Maddox?”

  “Yes, what about Maddox?” Carbonale asked as he entered the cabin and took the seat beside Miles.

  I sat for a few moments in silence, studying the two men before me; obviously different in style and approach, yet both now perhaps my most trusted confidants. I hadn’t realized how much time I’d taken in my study, until Miles cleared his throat and scratched his nose to rouse me.

  “Well, I’d thought for a moment of throwing your troublesome arse overboard and watching you race the sharks to shore. But instead, you’ll remain aboard…at least for the time being. I have an idea, but I need some time with it.”

  “Well, then, by all means, Captain, allow me to thank you for reconsidering. What little remains of my wardrobe would certainly have not have survived the swim.”

  Miles huffed and looked at him with wonder. “You were just given a pardon by the Captain of a Royal Navy vessel and all you can think of is your clothes?”

  “It’s simply a matter of respect, sir. The Lady Hawthorne was very generous. Just because I was a philandering scoundrel didn’t mean I need appear as one.”

  Weary of talk of fashion and bitter reminders, I changed the subject of our discussion to more important matters. “Mister Jacobs, we need a new name for the ship…and just to clarify, I am no longer, nor will I ever again be, a Royal Navy captain.”

  “The name then?” Miles asked.

  “After some considerable thought, I’ve settled on the Assurance.”

  Both men fell silent for a moment, as I watched the wheels in their heads turn the name over. “A most peculiar name for a pirate ship,” Carbonale said. “But then again, you are no ordinary pirate.”

  “A ship’s name should match its destiny. Every man aboard knows what they’ll get with Gabriel Wallace as their captain. I’ll have the carpenters set to work immediately.” Miles rose and headed to the door.

  “Mister Jacobs, see to the fitting of those swivel guns we took from the York’s Keep. If it’s a war they want, then we’d better prepare for it.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Miles smiled so widely I could see his teeth. I knew of nothing that thrilled the man more than the prospect of firing a big gun.

  “What is this scheme you’re plotting for me?” Carbonale asked. “I would appreciate being informed of any designs you have on my behalf.”

  “You’ll know when I need you to know. Just keep your fancy pants on, Carbonale, and I’ll keep them dry of sea water. I have no intentions of risking your life…well, other than granting you passage aboard a ship being hunted by the Royal Navy.”

  “Your words are always so, shall we say, assuring,” Carbonale said, tapping his fingers nervously on the edge of my desk. He had, in fact, as he’d previously stated, thrown his life in with mine and I was now responsible for it. I had neither the intention, nor the obligation, to discuss my plans, when the fact was they weren’t entirely under my complete control…yet.

  “When you didn’t leave me to my attackers on the beach, I’d foolishly assumed that I’d managed to at last, gain your trust.” Carbonale rose with the look of a dejected child and swept his cavalier upon his head with a slap. “If we’re finished here, I’ll retire to my bunk. Good evening, Captain.”

  “Maddox?” The young man stopped at the door, yet held his back to me. “Do not mistake my caution in sharing an as yet incomplete idea as a lack of trust. That would be a mistake.”

  He nodded slightly and made his exit.

  Alone at last, I studied the maps on my desk. There would be a solution if we made it in time.

  Seven

  Although I believed most of our ruffled feathers smoothed once out to sea, setting my feet on the deck the next morning unfortunately proved me wrong.

  “I say we throws him over now,” said Marlowe, a sailor originally from the York’s Keep whom we’d accepted onto the crew upon his request. He and two of his mates were leaning on the gunnel and staring out at the sea as they chatted.

  “Whom should we throw overboard?” I inquired, startling the men.

  Upon my word, which was deeply spoken, the men spun around as if they’d heard a scream.

  “Cap’n, we were just makin’ conversation is all,” Israel Marlowe said.

  “To whom were you referring tossing overboard?” I persisted.

  “Cap’n, it were just some foolish nattering. Can’t fault a man for that, can ye?” Israel’s companions had slowly moved away.

  “Marlowe, when I agreed to you joining my crew after the taking of the York’s Keep, it was with the agreement you would follow the rules of this ship and be a part of this crew. If you have a problem with that, I advise you to tell me now. Threats of violence against a member of this crew or anyone, to whom we offer safe passage, are a direct violation of the code of this vessel. You do realize this, correct?”

  “Cap’n, all I was saying is how we would’ve been better off without that fancy-pants pretty-boy aboard.” The men that had been listening to him bellyache were shaking their heads in what I could only discern was an attempt to stifle his blabbering mouth while he still had a tongue to blabber with.

  “All men bein’ equal and all that, shouldn’t a man ‘ave a right to his own opinion?” He waved his hands about and stuck out his chin as he spoke. I assumed the shame of his being chastised was conjuring foolish notions in his wee mind. He either did not comprehend my warning or refused to heed it. He did, however, appear to notice the circle beginning to form around us. Our thus far verbal exchange of differing opinions, as he’d called it, had pulled a group of men from their stations to gawk. I glanced around at them as they stood watching and waiting to see how this newcomer faired against their captain.

  “Well, this is quite disappointing.” The gawkers’ heads snapped around at the sound of Carbonale’s voice as he stood amongst the thickening circle and folded his big, tan arms across his chest. “I was under the impression that I was accepted among the crew, yet there’s this opinion that I be thrown overboard like rotting fish?”

  The circle opened as Carbonale moved forward into the center and joined Marlowe and me. “Captain Wallace, would you mind terribly if I were to discuss this matter with Mister Marlowe—man-to-man?”

  “Actually, Mister Carbonale, if this man has a problem with anyone who is a guest aboard my ship, they have a problem with me as well. It’s my duty as Captain to handle this matter—man-to-man.”

  Carbonale nodded. Based on my tone and the reaction of the men, he could clearly see this was indeed a situation a captain needed to address. He stepped back a few paces and bowed to my authority in this conflict. He proved to me for perhaps the first time that despite his sarcastic wit and inability to play by my rules, his time aboard the Assurance had at last begun to sink in. Had I not known the man better, I’d have sworn he was finally paying attention in class.

  “State your grievance, Marlowe, and let’s get this over with.”

  Straight-backed, Marlowe stood a lean six feet and four inches when I measured him eye-to-eye. Although equal to my height, he wasn’t the least bit imposing, even fluffed up like an angry cat. He no more frightened me than a kitten and I could have snapped his neck just as easily. I’d handled men of his sort many times for varied violations of the ship’s articles. Marlowe was as predictable as any of those men. Th
ey’re all just lead balls and hot wind; neither of which I had any need of aboard my ship.

  “We haven’t sacked a ship since the York’s Keep. That one’s nothing but bad luck,” he barked, nodding at Carbonale.

  “Unless you’re addled and have forgotten, I’m captain of this ship and you’ll address me as such anytime you open that free-flapping trap of yours.” I slowly stepped around him as I spoke. “First and foremost, you took nothing. And two, I don’t believe in luck—good or bad. Your violation of article three of the ship’s code has purchased you a trip ashore the next time we make land, Mister Marlowe.”

  As I completed my circle of the man, I offered him my back, complete with the knowledge that his insubordination was about to take a turn for the worst. When I glanced at my cabin boy Adam’s eyes before me, I saw the reflection of what was behind me in their widened terror. Spinning where I stood, my fist came around and struck Marlowe hard in the chest. The dagger flew from his hand as he was thrown backwards onto the deck boards, gasping for breath. “Mister Jacobs!” I called out.

  Miles burst forward through the mob and pressed his ear against Marlowe’s flattened chest. “I think ye stopped his heart, Captain.”

  Marlowe’s face was ashen and his eyes appeared to protrude from their sockets like a fish out of water. “Help me up with him,” Miles said. “No time to find a bellows to shove down his pipe.”

  Several men rushed forward and lifted Marlowe as Miles tossed him onto his big shoulder and began to bounce up and down with ever increasing vigor. After several seconds, Marlowe let out a gasp. Miles slid him from his shoulder onto the deck, where the man lay clutching his chest and breathing in deep gulps of air.

  Marlowe stared up at me through bloodshot eyes and said with a rasp, “Ye could’ve killed me.”

  “Mister Jacobs has done this before. If I’d have wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be speaking to me right now. You’d be on your way to Davey Jones’s locker.” Marlowe rubbed his chest and his eyes filled with either hate or fear; I could not tell which through their increasing redness.

  “What do we do with him, Captain?” Miles asked.

  “Set a course toward land immediately. He will be put to shore wherever that might be.” I began to make my way toward the quarterdeck, shouting my orders as I went. “Until then, he is to be tied to the mainmast and no one is to speak a word to him or provide him with water or food unless I give the order.”

  “Captain, no food or water? If you wanted the man dead, as you said…” Carbonale said as he caught up to me.

  “Mister Carbonale, I believe I’m in agreement with your suggestion for once.” I neither looked at him nor broke my stride as he stumbled along next to me. “Mister Jacobs, strike that. Have the cook prepare him the best meal he’s ever had. In the morning, he will have that discussion with Mister Carbonale—man-to-man.”

  “Perhaps you misunderstood me, Captain Wallace. I merely meant to say…” Carbonale muttered as I at last came to a stop and faced him.

  “At the conclusion of this discussion, whoever goes overboard swims to shore. The one that remains dry stays.”

  Now I turned my attention to the crew. “Get back to your stations, men. This ship can’t sail herself.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Miles answered.

  I continued on my way aft toward my cabin and my awaiting maps. It was reported to me that at our time of sail out of Boston, the young navigator, Phillip, had not returned from shore. I was disappointed but I bore him no ill will. Every man must follow his own path. Apparently Phillip’s was in Boston.

  “Shouldn’t a’ questioned the Cap’n,” I heard one sailor mumble as the crowd dispersed back to their duties.”

  “Only a fool does that with Wallace,” another said.

  “That pretty-boy’s gonna die tomorrow.” Gimby was still at the helm where he lived, even though there were others he had trained to do the same task.

  “On the contrary, Mister Gimby. Marlowe will be the one leaving us, one way or another.”

  “Not the young Mister Carbonale?” Gimby’s voice turned up at my prediction, as did his bushy brows.

  “The wind carries conversations quite well aboard a ship.” I folded my arms.

  “Aye, that. For what it’s worth, and from what I seen, I would a’ done the same after that show of assery.”

  After a final nod on the subject, I returned to the more important business at hand. “Now, point her towards shore and no one need be the wiser. Unless we’ve a seasoned navigator aboard that I don’t know about, they’ll have no inkling which way we’re headed, nor do I believe they care.” I smiled and placed a hand on the helmsman’s shoulder. “You would make a fine captain, Mister Gimby.”

  “No, sir. I understand the need for things but don’t have the head for it. I’d be burnin’ inside right now, if I were you.”

  I looked ahead as he slowly turned the wheel at no more than an inch or so per minute. He might not have the head for a captain but that was because his heart belonged to wood and iron and rigging.

  “Good evening, Mister Gimby. I will give you the course soon,” I said as I headed back to my quarters.

  Eight

  “Marlowe’s been taken care of—locked away ‘til morning,” Miles said.

  “Good.” I glanced up at him from my maps, rubbing my red eyes back into focus, blurry due to the strain of reading the lines.

  “Gabriel, we need to find a seasoned navigator so you don’t have to do that yourself. Losing Phillip in Boston was a blow we didn’t need right now.”

  “And we need a ship’s surgeon so you can stop throwing men over your shoulder every time one crosses me.”

  Miles laughed and sat down. “One of these days, a man will come along who will have heard of that swinging hammer blow of yours and stay the hell out of your way. While we’re on the subject, I thought I would let you know Carbonale has quickly been made aware of the error of questioning you. The crew did not waste time.”

  “I’ve concluded that the young man will question anything and everything. I’m relieved, however, that at last he does it with humility and conviction, unlike men like Marlowe. They do it as a show of power or twisted pride—or at least they believe they do. They’re like apes in the jungle and they deserve to be treated as such. Adam!”

  “Sir?” Adam asked from the doorway.

  “Course headings for Mister Gimby.”

  “Yes, sir.” Adam took the slip of paper and disappeared.

  I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. “Do you have any regrets leaving England the way we did, Miles?”

  He stretched out his long legs. “Now’s a hell of a time to ask.” He chuckled. “I have to admit, I would’ve liked more time.”

  “I assume you were able to get a message off to your parents?”

  “I did. And I sent along what money I had saved up as well. No need for it out here.” Miles spread his arms wide like the wings of an eagle and then folded his hands behind his head. Knowing him as well as I did, regardless of what he had or hadn’t left behind, I knew he had no ill feelings about being part of this adventure.

  “The question is,” Miles began. “Do you have any regrets for involving the boy?”

  His inquiry caught me off guard, pulling me from the daydream into which I had almost fallen. We had avoided any conversation of our lives in London since we’d left, in part due to where our discussion was now heading. “Choices were made, Miles. I’m not one to play games and the boy will always be safe in my care.”

  “To Felicity, it was a game. She resented you leaving her for the Navy and wanted to make you suffer.”

  “She failed.” I felt my jaw begin to clench. “I have turned away ladies from the various levels of society without hesitation or a thought of ‘what if?’ and there was no promise made. Love is not a game to me, nor have I the slightest interest in it anymore. I made the right choice in leaving…and in keeping Adam.”

  “She knew, Gabrie
l. She believed simply because of her family that you would….”

  “Her family never had anything to do with my fondness for her. She knew that. Why would she believe they would make a difference?”

  “But you still have…”

  “Miles, she used my grieving father. I can assure you that upon my return, finding her belly in full bloom and my father growing weaker as she swelled with his child, any attachment I’d felt prior to my departure vanished as quickly as she did upon learning he’d left her nothing but a young widow.” I interrupted him again, dropping the butt of my fist on my desk hard. “She never loved him and he knew in the end that she didn’t. Hell, he had to have known it all along. He’d have been a fool not to know. She broke him and he died because of it. The only peace I have is that he never knew of my prior attachment.” My throat began to shut. I sat up in my seat and tossed my hand at him. “And now she moves on to another game. As does her family.”

  I took a deep breath and a swig of warm ale as I looked at Miles. “I believe it’s time we let this go. I have neither the desire nor the care to consider what might have been. She was jealous of something about which it was impossible for there to be anything done.”

  “True enough, my friend. And Adam comes first—always.” Miles shook his head and rose quickly to his feet. “The sad truth is; had she not been playing her spurned game of gossip and carrying tales on you, you wouldn’t have been court-martialed. Of course, it’s not as if they needed more ammunition against you. Their resentment of your outspoken nature against the practices of the Navy ran as deep as the sea. She merely fanned the flames.”

  “Don’t fool yourself into believing she had that much power, Miles. They had their musket barrels pointed at me before she ever said a word.”

  “Captain, if you please, I would have a word with you,” Carbonale said, startling us both. He entered without a knock, true to his form. Miles turned with a jerk, and the young man came to a halt. “I meant to say, if you have a moment.” Carbonale threw up his hands as if showing his intention was not to incite anger. However, Miles was through holding back.