“Boy, you have pushed me to my breaking point.” He stepped towards Carbonale, pointing his thick forefinger at the man’s face. “You will respect your captain and his privacy. If you ever enter again without knocking, put your boots on his desk or disrespect him in any way, I will personally stomp you through the hull of this ship and not stop until we hit the bottom of the ocean. Do I make myself clear?”
“I do believe we have an understanding, Mister Jacobs,” Maddox answered, backing away.
“As you’ve witnessed, you’ll be lucky if I get to you before the Captain loses his patience. He’s given you more leeway than your bloody arse deserves and…”
“That’s enough, Miles. Carbonale, in the future, knock…or my finger won’t hesitate next time,” I said as I laid the pistol on my desk.
Carbonale cautiously stepped around the still seething obstacle before him. His eyes shifted from Jacobs back to me, and then he removed his hat. “Pardon, Captain, but had you wanted me to fight Marlowe, why did you insist on managing the disagreement yourself?”
“Fighting amongst the crew is a violation of the articles. You questioned your captain in front of his crew, lad, and that, too, is a violation.”
“Was I wrong to assume we’d come to an understanding as friends?”
“I’m his friend,” Miles said. “The best one he’s got. I question him all the time behind that door you so freely barge through at will. I never question my captain in front of the crew.”
“It was my understanding that I am not welcome as a member of this crew, nor did I sign the articles, since I was informed my presence was a liability. I would have signed them, had we not previously agreed I’d be departing in Boston.”
“Then, by rights, you should have stayed in London,” Miles said. “Marlowe was right about you. You should be overboard and we’d have one less problem to worry about, since they’re looking for you.”
“And him?” He pointed at me.
“Carbonale, don’t press me. I’m wanted because of this ship. You’re being hunted for a number of reasons.” Our eyes locked and my message was clear.
“You’re a thief of a ship of the Royal Navy,” Carbonale said with a chuckle. “I can think of little else more worthy to hunt a man for. I’d say it certainly carries more weight than desertion or bedding married women.”
“You bloated bastard.” Miles clenched his fists at his sides and moved closer to Carbonale.
“Miles!” I shouted, shooting to my feet. “Carbonale, you keep digging this hole and I promise you I’ll bury your ass in it.” Both men fell silent as I pressed my fingertips into the desktop and faced them. “Why do you think these men follow me? Christ, man, why the hell do you think they helped me take this ship?”
“You pay them.”
Miles laughed. “Insolent shit!”
“They follow me because I’ve spent years earning their respect—respect that only a fool would challenge. They know I’ll defend them to my death and only lead them the way of victory in all things.”
“And you pay them,” Carbonale repeated, leaning in at me across the desk.
“Yes, dammit! I pay them well because they earn it!” I slapped the desk so hard my palm stung like a handful of wasps.
“Money keeps people loyal. I know all about money. If I’m not racing the sharks tomorrow, perhaps you’ll allow me to share some of that knowledge sometime.”
I turned and looked out the windows of my cabin. The sea was glowing from the setting sun. “Carbonale, I’m starting to believe Mister Jacobs is right about you. Maybe you are just a spoiled, ignorant bastard. If money is all you’d depend on as a captain to maintain the loyalty of your crew, then perhaps you should just take that swim and forego the fight.” My patience had run its course with his nonsense. “Pirates…” I shook my head and turned back to him. “Have you any idea how many pirates there are in the southern waters? Any one of them with more money could buy your crew out from under you—take your ship, too and slit your throat in the process.”
“Captain, first and foremost, I am no bastard and I am certainly not ignorant. Name-calling doesn’t suit a man of your station. However, this one here?” He tossed his thumb over his shoulder at Miles. “I’ve had about enough of his threats.”
If there was anything but total destruction etched on my face in regards to the young man’s future, upon completion of his statement, he’d lost sight of it by way of his own anger. He chose his next words wisely. “I mean no offense, Captain but you have been a pirate for no more than two months and already you believe yourself the expert on running a pirate ship?”
I inhaled deeply, as my thoughts were many and I didn’t want to run out of wind before I’d put them to words. “This crew—my crew, voted to go with me, risking their lives, instead of staying under the protection and assurance of steady employment with the Royal Navy.” I turned and moved to my chair. “You want your own ship someday?”
“I believe I’ve spent enough time at sea to want such a thing, yes.”
“Then use this time wisely. Learn, while you have the opportunity, just what it takes to be a captain. I had two options today when you challenged me. I could have done as I did or I could have given you what I gave Marlowe.”
“You could have also chosen to let it go,” Carbonale said.
“And systematically, through bad decisions like that, eventually lost my ship.”
Carbonale laughed. “Because of the foolish words of someone that many of them don’t even know?”
“Precisely for that reason,” I said through my teeth.
Carbonale scoffed and went for the brandy.
“Mister Jacobs, both men are to have their belongings packed by morning. Once one of them is in the sea, his duffle follows him. All of Mister Carbonale’s belongings are to be packed, regardless of their dislike of sea water. Place food and water in both bags, along with a month’s pay.”
“Fair enough; too fair actually. You’re paying these men more than they’ve earned.”
“They deserve it, Miles.”
“Not Marlowe. He hasn’t done shit for this crew, save causing trouble.”
“He signed. He’s part of this crew until he’s in the drink or we make port—whichever comes first.”
“Assuming he’s put in the drink.” Miles nodded at the broad back of Carbonale. “If this one doesn’t best Marlowe, then you’ve another problem. It could elevate him in the eyes of some of the crew.”
“Marlowe will be my sole concern, then. For now, I wish to be left alone, unless anyone present wishes to anger me further.” I slammed opened the log on my desk and lowered my eyes until I heard the door close. I let out a deep breath and sighed. Carbonale’s stubbornness was doing nothing to assist my plans. He needed to be made to understand what it was to be a captain…and soon. I needed him off this ship for his own good. I didn’t have time to school him properly, yet I believed every tool required for the position was at his disposal. Seeing through him was the easy part. Showing him what I saw was entirely another.
Nine
“Land ho, gentlemen!” Every head on the main deck turned to shore when I nodded. “No blades. No pistols. You wanted this man-to-man? Well, it’s my duty to oblige. Is that understood?”
Israel Marlowe slowly removed a small knife hidden in the waist of his slops. His feet were bare. Carbonale was dressed in his usual finery, except he wore no waistcoat, and his shirt hung loosely.
“You have the rules,” I continued. “The first one overboard will be followed by his duffle and he can swim to shore.” I pointed first to the beach and then to the open ocean.
“I don’t see no land that way, Cap’n,” Marlowe said.
“You will once you see the White Cliffs of Dover!” one sailor called out. The crew roared with laughter. A smile escaped at the jest and I had to wait until the laughter died away.
“Fight!”
Marlowe had been waiting for the signal and delivered the fi
rst blow, driving his shoulder into Carbonale’s chest and so it began, as the two fell rolling to the deck. They came to a stop with Carbonale on top but it was far too soon for there to be any advantage. Carbonale delivered several thumping blows to Marlowe’s face and head but did little harm as Marlowe covered himself deftly with his hands and forearms. Then, with a swift twist, Marlowe tossed off his opponent. Carbonale landed on his feet and swung his boot to kick Marlowe in the head but found planking instead, which threw him off. Marlowe sprang to his feet.
“The boy is quicker than you, Marlowe!” one of the crew called out.
“Not much without a blade, are ye?” another howled. The fighters were surrounded by hoots and shouts as they exchanged blows. There was no way to discern whose side anyone was on, as it seemed the crewmen were cheering for the hits themselves, regardless of who landed them.
Sweat poured from Marlowe as he charged again. Carbonale was ready this time and leapt out of the way but Marlowe caught him by the left arm and jerked him around, right into his fist. The punch landed squarely with a loud whack, knocking Carbonale’s head back as if he’d no neck at all to hold up his curly black noggin.
Appearing stunned by the blow, Carbonale dropped to one knee. Marlowe kept a firm grip on Carbonale’s arm as he went down, and drew back to drop a second thump of knuckles on the former lieutenant’s handsome face. Unfortunately, he hesitated; appearing convinced he’d struck the lights out of Carbonale. As I watched, I knew that trick all too well. I folded my arms across my chest and waited for what came next.
I was right. Carbonale, who by all appearances was taken under the arm by Marlowe, returned the gesture with a solid right fist under Marlowe’s chin. I believed I heard the man’s teeth rattle in his mouth as Carbonale repeated that punch so fast and so many times I lost count. Seemingly satisfied with the number of whacks, he pulled Marlowe over his back, flipping him five feet into the air and landing him on his back, gasping for wind…again.
“Do it, lad! Do it now!” one of the crew called out.
Carbonale had a firm hold on Marlowe’s ankles, dragging him to the nearest gunnel. Having regained his breath, Marlowe struggled against him, flopping about and cursing Carbonale with every foul name he could muster. I was bordering on a belly laugh while watching the two men awkwardly wrestling, as if Carbonale was trying to boat a blue marlin. However, as they reached the gunnel, Carbonale made the mistake of turning his back on Marlowe. With my hand, I covered the sigh of disappointment that escaped me and watched, as the sailor broke free and swung his right foot up, kicking Carbonale in the back of his head, almost knocking him on his arse.
Marlowe staggered backwards a few steps and then charged at the wavering Carbonale, who clung to the rail for support. I shook my head and started to look away, when Miles grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me back. Carbonale rolled out of the way just in time, sending Marlowe crashing hard into the gunnel as everyone gasped. It was damn near a miracle he didn’t flip over the side.
“Running, pretty-boy? I don’t blame you,” Marlowe said, gathering himself for further assault, as Carbonale’s hands flew to his obviously aching head.
Marlowe reached down and grabbed a block and slipped a length of rope through it.
“Watch out, boy. He’ll kill you with that pulley.”
My eyes shot open, shocked that Gimby had said anything. It appeared he’d taken a liking to Carbonale—either that or a great disliking to Marlowe.
“I knew that good-for-nothing bastard would find a way to cheat,” one of the gawkers said.
“Aye, Israel appears an old hand at it,” another man added.
Marlowe began to swing the block. His face was soaked with sweat and red with anger as it barely missed Carbonale’s dodge. It was obvious this wasn’t the first time the man had used a rope and block as a weapon. Then, it dawned on me that there was no reason for either item to have been lying about. He’d planted them there. Marlowe was indeed an old hand at cheating.
Carbonale kept ahead of the makeshift weapon; ducking and bobbing as it flew at him again and again but I feared it would eventually leave his brains all over my deck. I stood there, attempting to appear unbiased, yet I was working out in my head what Carbonale could do to escape such a grave and dishonorable death. He could dash in for an attack but Marlowe had given himself just enough rope to thwart any direct assault Carbonale could manage.
I could think of only one thing to combat the advantage. “Adam,” I said leaning down to the boy. “Carbonale needs assistance.” Adam looked at me and I saw the understanding light in his eyes. Without a word, he turned and ran toward the stern for my whip.
“Watch that damn thing, Marlowe!” I shouted as the block smashed into the mainmast. “You bust up my ship and I’ll take every penny of it out of your hide!”
Marlowe swung the block again, but this time, Carbonale used the rigging to his advantage, forcing Marlowe’s swing as he ran behind the mast. As the block and rope passed the timber, winding around it, he quickly circled and ran at Marlowe. Marlowe jerked and pulled to withdraw the rope as Carbonale’s fist connected with his cheek. The sailor staggered back but did not let go of the rope, in spite of the power behind the blow. The block at last pulled free and bounced along the deck, striking the heel of Carbonale’s boot, knocking him off balance.
Marlowe charged again. He lifted Carbonale by the waist and roared as he drove him into the mast. Carbonale let out a gasp that was accompanied by every man standing in witness. Marlowe smiled widely, picked up his weapon and backed away, as Carbonale staggered forward and doubled over. I smiled when I spied Adam moving on all fours like a cat behind him.
Again he swung that damn rope. Faster and faster it went, cutting the air with its whoop and woosh as he whirled it at his side. He strutted back and forth, taunting Carbonale; whipping and spinning that rope inches from the wounded man, who appeared unable to move. He was coughing and streams of red ran from beneath his soaked black locks. I watched, grinding my teeth between my clenched jaws, as Miles placed his hand on my chest. “Don’t even think it,” was all he said.
Marlowe stepped forward, ready to let the block fly. With no more than a gust of wind to spare, the air around Marlowe was sliced open with the snap of black leather, as a bullwhip slapped around his neck. The tail cracked his cheek, instantly leaving a bloody welt. Over the heads of the cheering mob, I saw that Carbonale was back on his feet, dragging the stumbling Marlowe like a wild hog toward the starboard gunnel. Suddenly, he reversed course toward the portside. Marlowe’s face was turning deep purple and his hands clawed uselessly at the black snake entwined about his throat.
“I do hope you can swim,” Carbonale quipped and with a hearty jerk, he whipped Marlowe over the railing. The weight of his body nearly took Carbonale with him but as if an expert with a whip, Carbonale pulled and the leather unraveled from Marlowe’s neck, releasing him into the water below.
Every able body rushed to that gunnel and leaned over, watching for Marlowe to surface. “There he is!” someone called out as his head popped to the surface just in time for his duffle to barely miss landing on it. I looked to my right and found Miles standing at the railing.
“Ye better get ta swimmin’, lad!” called Gimby. “The sharks are plenty in these parts…and I’m sure they’d enjoy yours!”
The ship erupted in laughter, watching Marlowe’s head twist in every direction. Appearing satisfied that he was safe, he hooked his bag over his head and began swimming toward shore.
Turning back to assume normal business, I saw Adam along the rail. “Adam,” I called to him and gave him a wink. He gave me one of his big, toothy smiles and went on his way as well.
“Clever, clever,” Miles mumbled, joining me on my stroll.
“What? Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with that!” I snickered. “Breakfast, old friend?”
“Nothin’ like watching justice prevail to give a man an appetite, aye?”
&n
bsp; Ten
With disagreements settled and nothing but open water before us, I was at last at ease and once again able to devote my focus to the mission I’d planned. A few weeks after the purging of Marlowe from my decks and along with him any conspiracies against anyone on my crew, we came upon another of my chosen targets. I was satisfied with our haul of sugar and rum, yet I was also mystified at the simplicity in which she gave it all up. The second we fired a warning shot, their hands went up and their heads went down. I was getting what I wanted at the cost of no more than a threat.
Although the young man had found his station and manners and now knocked prior to entry, Maddox Carbonale was incessant in gaining my attention. He spent his days from sunrise to sunset proving his level of sailor. Prove it he did and he met every task given him, from tarring the decks to carpentry. The man was no rack of bones to start with, but now even I had to confess he was damn near as big as Miles through the shoulders and possibly as strong. Even in December, his skin was darker than perhaps it had ever been and those blasted white teeth of his could have given us away on a full moon.
I’d just taken a seat near the hearth in my fancy new chair, courtesy of our most recent and accommodating capture, when like every evening, his knock came upon my door. Miles had joined me earlier to discuss our next hunt, and he began to rise when I shouted, “Enter, Maddox!”
“Two ships now, Captain. Although, this last one was not so much a prize as the first. Apologies, gentlemen. Good evening,” Maddox said before he even pulled the chair from my desk to sit.
“I’m not after prizes. I’m after ships,” I informed him.
“But ships are prizes, no? I’m certain their empty hulls would agree to that. May I?” he asked, reaching for my private stock of brandy.
I nodded. “What I do isn’t to get rich. It’s to keep the owner and investors of those ships from getting richer. I take what this ship needs to stay in business, and that includes wages.”
AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling (The Razor's Adventures Pirate Tales) Page 7
