by Bev Stout
"Shouldn't there be blood on the deck?" Christopher asked.
"A sudden squall must have washed it away," Mr. Montgomery replied.
Annie and her shipmates cautiously climbed over what had once been proud masts, now nothing more than splintered wood and canvass. Making their way to the hatch, she and Mr. Montgomery avoided the gaping holes in the deck.
* * *
Where men had once shared tall tales and laughter, the fo'c'sle stood in stark disorder. Mr. Montgomery pushed aside an empty sea chest.
"Where are the bodies?" she asked.
"I suspect they were thrown overboard."
Annie searched under blankets and stowed hammocks, hoping to find someone, anyone, alive. "Maybe they escaped," Annie said.
"No, the boats are still lashed to the deck."
"I didn't see any bodies floating in the water."
"Sharks," Mr. Montgomery replied. "But if it is Godenot's work, don't expect to find any bodies. This is now a ghost ship. Those not thrown overboard became his prisoners to torture or to become members of his crew."
"I would kill myself before I would become one of his pirates."
"Don't judge," Mr. Montgomery said.
Annie skirted around smeared blood, only to have broken glass pierce her bare foot. She grimaced in pain as she pulled out the jagged shard.
"I'll search aft. You go forward," Mr. Montgomery said.
Annie heard noises coming from the far end of the passageway. "A very large rat," Annie said. "But just in case…" She shifted the candlestick to her left hand and drew out her knife to investigate.
With the increased listing of the ship, it became more difficult to stand upright. Annie slid to the door to what she believed was the first mate's quarters. Annie saw a sliver of light under it. As soon as she pushed the handle down with her elbow, the door flew open.
Overturned chairs had shifted to one side of the cabin. The furniture obscured her view, but not enough to hide a figure cowering against the bulkhead, knees drawn to his chest. The smell of urine invaded her senses.
"I won't harm…" A flash and a thunderous blast ended Annie's sentence. The candle and knife flew out of her hands.
Annie groped for the knife lying inches from her fingertips, but the searing pain in her right arm wouldn't let her grab it. She realized the unthinkable. "I been shot!"
In the glow of the lantern hanging overhead, the shooter clutched a pistol with both hands. He shook so badly, she thought it was only luck that he had hit her.
He looked to be about ten years old. The boy sobbed. "Don't kill me."
To Annie's relief, he made no effort to prime the pistol again with powder and shot. As she pressed the wound with her hand, blood oozed between her fingers. Her teeth chattered. "I won't kill you," she said. "Why did you shoot me?"
"You're a pirate."
"A p-pirate?" Her eyes darted from the boy to her injured arm and back again. "Do I look like a pirate?" She fought to stay alert. "I am a ca-cabin boy, just l-like you."
No longer speaking in a hushed tone, the boy sat up straight. "I'm not a cabin boy. I am David Palmer, son of Captain Harold Palmer, commander of this ship."
"P-pleased t-to meet…." Annie's world went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The moment Mr. Montgomery burst into the cabin, Annie's eyes fluttered open. Immediately he put himself between her and the boy. He raised his pistol, the boy in his sights. "Put your weapon down!" he shouted.
Palmer crossed his hands over his face. "Don't shoot!" But the pistol remained in his hand.
Mr. Montgomery shoved aside a chair with his foot before snatching the empty weapon from the boy. He tossed it in the corner while shoving his own pistol into his waistband.
With the boy disarmed, Mr. Montgomery turned his full attention to Annie. He dropped to one knee. "That's a nasty wound, lad."
Nestled in the crook of Mr. Montgomery's arm, Annie squinted up into his face. Like a drunken sailor who had imbibed too long at the Black Anchor Pub, she asked in all seriousness, "Why is there t-two of you?"
"Maybe, because one of me is not enough to take care of you," Mr. Montgomery said.
Annie attempted to laugh, but the pain turned it into a groan.
Hoping to stop the bleeding, Mr. Montgomery quickly ripped off a strip of material from his sleeve and wrapped the makeshift bandage around Annie's arm. She pursed her lips together while the red circle grew larger on the cloth. As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she told Mr. Montgomery what had occurred.
Mr. Montgomery steadied himself on the slanting deck. He bent down, picked up Annie, and tossed her over his shoulder. To Palmer, he commanded, "On your feet, boy, to the hatch!"
* * *
Annie woke cradled in Mr. Montgomery's arms as the first mate slid to the railing. She expected to see the Crimson Revenge looming over the side, but Captain Hawke was right. The pirate ship was nowhere to be seen.
Palmer climbed down the rope ladder. With no time left to climb down himself, Mr. Montgomery dropped Annie over the side. Christopher leaped across Carter's lap, catching her as she fell through the air. "You're bleeding," he said before he leaned her up against Palmer.
Ainsworth and Rodrigues dove out of the way, as Mr. Montgomery came crashing near the bow of the longboat. Under Ainsworth's skillful guidance,the oarsmen kept the boat from capsizing.
"Shove off!" Ainsworth shouted.
"Together! Pull smartly!"
"Steady!"
The boat crew briskly rowed until Ainsworth yelled, "That is well!"
Safely away from the sinking ship, the sailors watched the Margaret Louise in her final death throes. Shrouded in a grey mist, she groaned one last time before rolling all the way onto her starboard side. The sound of cracking timber filled the air as the ocean boiled over the Margaret Louise. While the ship descended to her watery grave, Palmer clutched Annie's hand, his nails digging into her flesh.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
"Boat your oars!"
The men passed the oars overhead, stacking them down the center, blades toward the bow. Barrette and Perry hauled Annie up to the deck in an improvised sling. Once she was safely on the deck, Barrette held her limp body, supporting her head with his hand.
"Make way!" commanded Captain Hawke.
"Careful!" Doc cautioned.
The men craned their necks as Barrette laid her on the deck. Doc came prepared for all emergencies with his small cabinet full of medicine and equipment. He quickly removed the strip of fabric wound tightly around Annie's arm to examine the wound.
"Is the little maggot goin' to live?" Symington asked.
Thinking she had heard genuine concern in the carpenter's voice, Annie assumed she must surely be delirious.
"Andrés will live. The ball went clear through the arm," Doc said. He took out a bottle of an astringent and rubbed it into the wound to slow the bleeding.
Mr. Allan piped orders, dispersing the men to their stations.
Doc prepared to sew Annie's arm, first giving her laudanum for the pain.
Captain Hawke knelt beside her. "How's the arm, boy?"
Annie gritted her teeth. "H-hurts."
"Who shot you?"
Annie took hold of the captain's sleeve. "Not his fault."
"Not whose fault?" he said.
"No more questions. He needs his strength," Doc said.
Captain Hawke stood and scanned the deck. "Who, the bloody hell, shot my cabin boy?"
Mr. Montgomery nodded toward Christopher who was trying to calm Palmer down.
"Him?" the captain said. "He is a mere child."
"He mistook Andrés for a pirate," Mr. Montgomery said.
"Is he blind?" Captain Hawke said.
"From what Andrés was able to tell me, the lad saw his knife. Thinking Andrés was a pirate, he shot him."
Christopher spoke up while the boy cursed at him, "He believes we are all pirates."
Palmer clamped his t
eeth down on Christopher's hand. Christopher's immediate reaction was to let the boy go. Palmer made a break for it, running for the railing. Before he could jump over the side of the ship, Captain Hawke grabbed the boy and whipped him around. Palmer tried to pull away while kicking out at the captain, but Captain Hawke wouldn't loosen his hold.
"We are not pirates. We will not harm you." Gentler, the captain asked the boy, "What is your name?"
Captain Hawke waited, but the boy refused to answer.
"His name is David Palmer," Mr. Montgomery said.
The captain shot a look at Mr. Montgomery and then turned back to the boy.
"Is your father, Captain Harold Palmer?"
Uncertainty replaced the fear in the boy's eyes. "You know my father?"
"A good man, I remember him well," Captain Hawke said. "You were only trying to defend your father's ship when you shot my cabin boy. Am I right?"
"I am sorry I shot him, captain." Palmer looked down at Annie. "I really am sorry."
While Doc sutured her arm, Annie looked back at the boy with a vacant stare. The painkiller was taking affect.
"He knows it was an accident." Captain Hawke assured him.
The captain then called to Christopher. "Take the boy to the mess deck and have Mr. Waverly fill his belly."
"He bit me, Captain. Maybe Doc should take a look at it."
"It's only a flesh wound, Christopher. Now take him below."
"Aye, aye, Captain." Christopher walked off. Not taking any chances, he pushed Palmer ahead of him.
Mr. Montgomery said to Captain Hawke, "It was Godenot's handiwork. Only one body. And except for Palmer, there were no other survivors."
"His handiwork, indeed," the captain said. He then turned his attention back to Annie. "I won't think any less of you if you cry."
"S-Sailors don't cry."
"Some do."
"N-not this one," Annie replied.
"He has lost a lot of blood," Doc said.
Captain Hawke ordered Barrette and Perry to take Andrés below.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The captain clasped one of the ropes securing Annie's hammock to the overhead. "You look better than you did yesterday, boy," he said.
"I am as fit as a fiddle, Captain," Annie replied.
"Don't listen to him," Doc said. "He needs more than a day to heal."
Annie tried to raise her head, but the captain touched her shoulder. "Not so fast."
The captain then took Annie's arm in his hand to get a closer look at her stitches. "Nice work, Doc."
Annie moaned. "Mason Rain's monkey knife wasn't very lucky, Captain."
"You are alive, aren't you? And if it had hit the bone, you might have lost your arm. Sounds like you were very lucky," he said with a smile.
"I am lucky only because Palmer is such a bad shot," Annie said.
Captain Hawke looked at Doc. "How soon will the boy be up and about?"
"I won't know for a few days," Doc said. "But barring infection, the lad should make a full recovery. For now, he needs plenty of rest."
"All you have to do, Andrés, is lie here and not work. I think your shipmates would like some of your luck."
Annie frowned. "I would rather be working than shot, Captain. How is Palmer?"
"He insists he be treated like the rest of the crew. He will pay you a visit this afternoon." Captain Hawke folded his arms across his chest. "Alright Andrés, I can see something is bothering you. Out with it."
"Why didn't we go after the pirate ship?"
"In case you haven't noticed, this is a merchant ship, not a warship."
"Then why have all those cannons if we aren't going to use them," Annie said.
"We have all those cannons so if we are attacked, we can fight back," The captain replied. "Did you not learn anything from being on the Margaret Louise? I will never risk my men's lives unless it is absolutely necessary. My decks will not become slippery with my crew's blood if I can help it." Captain Hawke said as he stomped out of the cabin.
* * *
After three days of recuperation, the captain's outburst was nothing more than a hazy memory. Full movement returned to Annie's arm, but not without pain. Enjoying the concern shown by her shipmates, she wasn't anxious to resume her duties.
Christopher chuckled as he walked into Doc's cabin. He held a book in the air. "Another one, Andrés." He tossed the book with the others before pulling up a chair.
"I don't wish to hurt the captain's feelings, but I cannot possibly read them all," Annie said.
Pounding on the door interrupted their conversation.
"It must be Barrette," Annie said. "He knocks on the door as if he were hammering on an anvil."
Christopher looked around the room. "Doc needs more chairs."
Barrette sauntered into the cabin balancing Annie's dinner tray in one hand. "It should be me lying there, not you. I never should have given up my place on the boarding party."
"You're jealous," Christopher said.
"Why would I be jealous?" Barrette said.
"Andrés will have a battle scar and you won't."
"Ah, you found me out, Christopher." Barrette grinned as he set the tray in front of Annie.
"Did you know Palmer paid me a visit? He apologized for shooting me…again." Annie said.
"Well, that is mighty big of him, considering the captain should have keel-hauled the boy or at the very least flogged him for what he did to you," Barrette said.
"The captain knows Palmer mistook me for a pirate."
"How could anyone mistake you for a pirate?"
"Have some sympathy for the boy. After all, he lost his father," Annie said.
"I have more sympathy for him than Symington does. He blames Palmer for everything." Barrette cleared his throat. "That boy is a bad one. Why is it 'e survived and no one else did? Lucky for 'im. Unlucky for them. 'E's a Jonah, that one is."
Christopher cocked his head. "I am impressed, mate. You sounded just like the old tar."
"You two had better keep an eye on Palmer, Annie said. "I don't want to hear he has fallen overboard if you know what I mean."
The door suddenly opened. "I hate to break up this little tea party," Doc said. "But unless you have been shot, you do not belong here."
"Get better, Andrés," Christopher said as he headed for the door.
"Thanks, Christopher," Annie said. "And by the way Barrette, that was your best imitation of Symington yet."
Barrette bowed to her while backing out the door. He was barely in the passageway when Doc slammed the door in his face
"That was rude," Annie said.
Doc mumbled something unintelligible.
Annie sighed. "Doc, have you ever noticed Barrette's dimples?"
She pressed her fingers into both cheeks.
"No, I have not noticed his dimples and neither should you," Doc said shaking his finger at her. "You are a young lady who should not be entertaining young men alone, especially that Barrette fellow."
"You can't be serious. He doesn't know I'm a girl. So what difference does it make?"
"Don't be so sure about that," Doc said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't like the way he acts around you."
"You are suspicious by nature, Doc. Besides, Captain Hawke said I needed to earn the respect of the men and I have done just that." She grimaced in pain as she raised her stitched arm in the air. "I've earned their respect as well as Barrette's, and he shows me nothing more." She murmured under her breath, "Unfortunately."
"I heard that," Doc said. "No matter, soon he and the rest of the men will have more important things on their minds."
"What could possibly be more important than this?" She raised her arm again.
"Landing in the American colonies," Doc said.
Annie had only a moment to think what that meant for her when a lilting melody drifted into the cabin. "Is that Samuel Baggott?"
"That it is. The captain told
him how much you enjoy his singing," Doc said.
"Ah, that was nice of him." Odd, she thought, but nice.
Annie let out a light breath and closed her eyes. She escaped to a world of chamber orchestras where fine ladies dress in elaborate gowns and gentlemen wear fancy waistcoats and buckled shoes.
By the fifth day, Christopher, not Barrette, brought Annie her meals and the stack of books grew no taller. It was time to return to her duties.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
As each day passed, the more anxious Annie became. The thought of leaving the Realm for even a moment made her uneasy.
"Doc, I will never leave the Realm." Annie waited for his reply. "Say something?"
"What do you want me to say, that I am glad you will become like me? I would not wish my life on anyone."
"But you have a good life here, Doc."
"While you have made my life more bearable, this is not living. Hidden away in the bowels of a ship is no life, Annie, not for me and not for you."
"Dry land has not been kind to me, Doc. You, of all people, should understand that better than anyone."
He shook his head. "Being on the land or the sea has nothing to do with heartache. Granted, my saddest days were on land, but so were my happiest."
* * *
As the Realm sailed into Charles Town's harbor, Annie admired the buildings dotting the waterfront. Some were as high as three stories. Colorful potted plants adorned balconies where girls waved to the sailors who eagerly waved back. Nothing she saw changed her mind about leaving the Realm.
Annie hadn't gone ashore in Boston or Philadelphia, but she feared Charles Town would be a different matter. It was the Realm's last port o' call. She knew all too well that if Captain Hawke ordered her off the ship, she would have to go.
* * *
"Come along, Andrés," Mr. Montgomery said.
"Do I have a choice?" Annie said as she joined him at the end of the gangway.
"When Captain Hawke gives an order, that is the end of it."
Annie walked beside him. "The men told me about their time in Boston and Philadelphia. What they did there was no different from what they do in London, get drunk and fight. Is that what the captain expects me to do?"
