Rogue Wave (The Rogue Wave Series Book 1), page 4
Lucas hired Cook not long after he became Captain. Cook walked right up to him in a tavern they had stopped at to recruit their crew and told him he would sign on as cook. Seeing as they did not have one as of yet, Lucas saw no harm in giving the man a try. Turned out to be one of the best decisions he had made. Cook had grown up in France and learned the trade from his mother who was the head cook for many years at one of the castles. Lucas sat down at his desk and set to work on marking the books.
There was a light knock at his door. Lucas looked up. “Come in.” The door opened. Allen stood in the doorway, looking down at a tray with a jug on it and a plate of food.
“Come in,” he said again. “You can set the tray on the desk, just there,” he pointed to a spot on his desk. The boy still made no move. Lucas chuckled, “I am really not all that bad, laddie.” The boy took a tentative step forward as if he were approaching a wild animal. Lucas watched as Allen set the tray down where he had indicated and looked up, his eyes wide as he looked around the room.
Lucas’s lips turned up a bit, “Didn’t expect this size of a room on a ship, aye?” he asked. Allen slightly shook his head. Lucas had been surprised the first time he walked into Captain Harris’s cabin. He had to deliver a message and he could not believe how large the room was or how many books, maps, charts, and chests it contained.
He noticed Allen staring at the sextant on his desk. Lucas picked it up and turned it round in his hand. “It is called a sextant, sailors use it to help them navigate, it helps us to know if we are on course or which way we should be going. Care to take a look?” He handed it to Allen, who took it very gingerly in his hands. Lucas noted how small they were.
“I have read about these.” Allen spoke quietly. “You look at the stars, moon or sun and the horizon with it, correct? That is how you find where you are going?” The lad looked up at Lucas, their eyes meeting briefly before the boy quickly looked down again.
Lucas grinned, he appreciated how interested the lad was in sailing and how much he knew about the sextant. For never being on a ship before, that was surprising. He wondered what else the lad knew about sailing. He looked down at the instrument in Allen’s hand, “You are correct, that is more or less how it works. Where did you read about sailing?” He asked casually.
Allen shrugged, now looking at the map on his desk. “My father has lots of books, I read most of them. Several of them are about sailing.” He said, engrossed with everything in the room. He gently set the instrument back down on the desk. Allen looked up; Lucas was studying him. “I need to get back up top.” Allen hurried out of the room, clicking the door shut behind him.
For a minute Lucas saw a different side of the lad. He had said his father had lots of books and that he had read most of them, giving Lucas the impression that he did in fact come from a life of privilege. The corner of Lucas’s lips turned up, the fact the boy was literate told Lucas that the boy’s supposed last name was not a mere coincidence. Lucas looked over at his tray of food. His mouth watered. It was a roast, seasoned to perfection, surrounded by various vegetables and gravy. He took a swig of the ale from the tray.
Lucas looked out the window behind him, the sun was down, and the sea was steady. He kicked his boots off and climbed onto his bed. His men all slept in hammocks in the main sleeping quarters. He had a hammock he could string up in his cabin if need be, but he preferred the bed. He was asleep within minutes.
Lucas heard the canons firing, the clashing of swords, guns going off and the screams of men. He was trying desperately to see through the thick air of gunpowder and smoke. The fray. He had a sickening feeling, something was terribly wrong, he looked around. Alaric was fighting, unscathed. He scanned the fighting men, mentally checking off who was still standing. Sweat poured down his face and back, where was Allen? He heard a shout from behind him. He whirled around; the blood drained from his face. A figure was standing there, holding a flintlock to the boy’s head. The boy looked terrified, exhausted, and helpless. There was a loud bang. Lucas’s world went black.
He shot up with a jolt. Shaking from the dream, sweat poured down his body. Dreams of a marooned man seeking revenge on him, plagued his sleep. There was another bang, it registered that someone was at the door. He ran a hand over his face and swung his legs off the bed. “Come in.” He grunted. He reached for his boots and slipped them on as the door opened. “What is it?” He asked.
“Ship on the Horizon Cap’n.” The sailor said. “Alaric told me to fetch ye.”
“Thank you, Benjamin. I’ll be right up.” Lucas said nodding to the young sailor whose scraggly long hair fell in his face. Benjamin turned and closed the door behind him as he left.
Lucas stood up and grabbed his spy glass from his desk. He headed for the hatch and marched up on deck. Alaric was on the Quarterdeck, keeping a close eye on the ship on the horizon. “What have we got?” He asked as he approached his first mate. At the railing, Lucas raised the spy glass to his eye to get a better look.
Thomas shook the small cup then quickly tipped it over. The dice spilled out, rolling across the table, threatening to roll off completely. He laughed, his smile not reaching his eyes, “Looks like you lost again, mate.” He said gathering up the coins he won.
“Another go?” The sailor asked, desperate to win his coins back.
“Nah, I have an important meeting to get to.” Thomas stood, pocketing the coins. He sneered at the sailor who still sat at the table. He patted his pocket, the metal clinking together. He turned and marched out of the door of the Rusty Anchor.
Thomas waited in one of the many sitting rooms of the Governor’s house. He snorted as he looked around at the fine rugs, furniture, and books that lined the room. Thomas noticed a long mirror in the corner of the large sitting room. He strode over to it. He looked himself up and down, turning to the side slightly. He smiled to himself, rubbing the stubble on his chin.
His blonde hair was tied back, a few loose strands falling along the side of his face. His attire certainly was not the finest, but, nor was it ripped or torn like many other sailors. His loose, white shirt hung low, showing part of the tattoo of a large compass with a map of the Caribbean waters under it, on his chest. A gold chain hung from his neck, many rings and bracelets adorned his fingers and wrists. In the mirror’s reflection, Thomas spotted crystal glasses on a table that sat between two chairs, near the fireplace. He walked over to them and poured himself a glass. He took a long drink and sat the glass back down.
“I see you helped yourself,” Thomas had not even heard the Governor walk in.
“Ah, I hope you do not mind.” He said, nodding to the man before him.
“Not at all, what did you think of it? I just had it recently imported from France.” The Governor said with a flourish, gesturing towards the drink. He ran his thumb and forefinger along his greying mustache.
“Not bad at all, though I must admit, I do prefer the taste of rum.” He smirked.
“Come, let us talk in my study.” The Governor walked out and headed down the hall. They entered a room, more shelves lined with various items, each probably worth more than Thomas saw in a single year. “Please, have a seat.” The Governor sat on the other side of the desk. “Tell me, why have you asked to meet with me Mr. Banning?” He asked, folding his hands together on top of his desk.
“I have a ship and I have a crew, now I am in need of a Letter of Marque. I was hoping you would be able to help me obtain it.” Thomas replied, leaning forward in the chair.
The Governor studied Thomas for a moment. “I tell you what. I have a man out on a voyage at the moment. He is to deliver a certain deed to a plantation to a man in France. If he is unable to carry out the task, then I will have you step in. Once you complete it, you will get your Letter of Marque. But only if he does not carry it out first.” The Governor said bluntly.
Thomas clenched his jaw. He knew the Governor was using him and would continue to do so when it suited him. “Very well, I…” He was cut short by a knock on the door.
“Enter.” The Governor demanded.
The Butler opened the door to the study. “There is a man at the door insisting on your presence, My Lord.”
“If you will excuse me Mr. Banning, I shall be back in a moment.” He said, then walked out of the room without a second glance. The butler closed the door behind them.
Thomas jumped up and quickly rummaged around on the Governor’s desk, looking for any information he could find about the Captain or the ship the Governor had ordered to take the deed to France. He flipped a letter over. It was not finished yet, but it said all he needed to know. The man in France was a Monsieur Dupont and the Captain delivering the deed was Captain Harding on The Trinity. Thomas slammed his fist down before returning the letter to it’s original position on the desk.
So, Lucas still had the Governor’s favor, he thought, hate flushing his cheeks. Not for long, he would change that. He sat back in the chair and waited for the Governor to return.
“I do apologize for the interruption. A matter of business, you understand.” The Governor commented as he reentered the study.
“But of course, no need to apologize.” Thomas waved a hand in the air. “I thought about it, I will await your orders, Sir. Should this Captain not succeed, I will be ready to sail for France at once. I shall be patrolling the waters around here. If you should need me, I will not be hard to find.” He assured the Governor.
“Splendid.” The Governor rose from his seat. Thomas followed suit, taking his cue to leave.
“I look forward to hearing from you, Sir.” He bowed and saw himself out. The Governor certainly does not waste time, he thought.
He headed back to the taverns to gather his crew. Thomas did not plan on waiting around in case Harding should fail. There was very little chance of that happening. If he wanted his Letter of Marque, Thomas was going to have to cause a little accident for The Trinity. He might be a couple days behind Harding but that would not matter. He had no doubt he could catch up. He looked forward to getting his revenge on his ex-Captain.
When Captain Lucas Harding marooned him on the tiny island, Thomas had to wait over a week before a ship finally spotted him, red and sick with exhaustion. There had been a little freshwater stream to drink from, but he had little shade and relatively no food. Luckily, he was able to catch a couple crabs that had washed up on driftwood from one of the larger islands. Harding had not taken too kindly to being mutinied upon. Thomas had underestimated Lucas’s fighting abilities and the amount of loyalty he had earned from his crew. This time, Thomas would be careful to not make the same mistakes.
Thomas swung the tavern door open and scanned the tables. The whole building reeked of ale, rum, and the smell of men who had not bathed in weeks. There was a crash as a pint of ale went flying into a wall, followed by a sailor being tossed into a table. He shook his head and walked around the mess towards the man he named his first mate.
“Grady, round the crew up, prepare to sail. We leave as soon as everyone is on board.” Thomas growled. He knew his crew would not be happy about sailing immediately. They had only arrived in Barbados the day before. Thomas moved his hand to his flintlock, daring his first mate to question his orders.
Grady swallowed hard, not taking his eyes off Thomas. “Yes, Capt’n, we will be ready to sail immediately.” Grady attempted to aid Thomas in the mutiny on The Trinity. When it had not gone as planned, Grady was kicked off at the next port. Thomas knew that Grady would do just about anything Thomas asked of him.
“Good,” He replied bluntly and walked out of the Tavern. He was itching to get his hands on Captain Harding and gain his Letter of Marque at any cost. Thomas boarded his ship and headed straight for his cabin, he would give his first mate a couple hours to get the crew together and on board. He needed to look at one of the maps, he had to try and stay one step ahead of Lucas to be able to catch him. He studied the map in front of him. Since Lucas was on orders from the Governor he would need to try and stay out of sight of enemy ships, which left only one or two routes and only a few ports.
Catherine watched the Captain and Alaric, they were talking and the Captain held his spy glass to his eyes. The Captain stood tall and confident, observing the ship they were approaching. His dark hair was pulled back and he stood with his legs apart slightly; many of the crew stood like that and she found herself doing the same. It seemed to help her balance though she figured she did not look as confident or as fierce as the Captain.
His white shirt billowed in the breeze, tightening briefly around the muscles that lined his arms. He turned to Alaric and spoke. Catherine was too far to hear them. Just then Alaric bellowed something about a flag. The crew seemed more at ease now, though most stayed at their stations. A few bustled about, raising a white flag. From what she had read, that meant they were not going to fight. She looked at the other ship, and noticed that they too were waving a white flag. Catherine slowly let out a breath.
“See lad, nothing to get worked up about, just a mere merchant ship.” Ol’ Shorty laughed.
The crew gathered a large plank as they approached the ship. They tossed ropes to the other ship to bring them closer and keep them joined as the Captain of the other ship and a few of the crew members crossed over to The Trinity. Captain Harding and Alaric walked steadily over to them. The Captains greeted one another then the Captain stepped aside and motioned to a man standing behind him. The man stepped forward; Catherine’s heart leapt into her throat.
It was her father. Could he have heard of her escape already? The other Captain was now pointing to his ship and Captain Harding was nodding. She had no idea what they were saying but she could not risk getting any closer.
“Looks like we will be having guests tonight,” Shorty grinned.
Excitement buzzed through the crew. Captain Harding, the other ship’s Captain, and her father all strode across the deck and through the hatch. Catherine blew out another breath. If they stayed below, there would be little risk of her being discovered. She just had to avoid him at all costs. She busied herself with untangling the ropes, she still had not fully untangled them though she had made a lot more progress.
Alaric strode over to Benjamin, “Grab a few of the crew to help you, we are giving a couple boxes of our extra supplies to Captain Lester. They were preyed upon by a pirate ship yesterday. Most of their provisions and supplies are gone, they will also will need help repairing the rigging, they lost several crew members.”
“Yes, sir,” Benjamin shouted to a few of the shipmates to join him in transferring the supplies.
Alaric turned to Catherine, “Allen, Cook will need assistance in serving the meal to our guests. Captain Lester and Lord Benedict will be joining us tonight.” Catherine paled.
“Sir, I have never served a meal before…I,” she tried desperately to think of an excuse to not have to be in the same room as her father. She stammered, “Sir, I would not want to mess up or embarrass Captain Harding, maybe one of the other crew members should do it.”
“Is that so? I am sure the Captain would be happy to hear you would not want to embarrass him. That being said, I suggest you do as you are told.” Alaric arched an eyebrow and stared at Catherine. She swallowed hard. He was almost as intimidating as the Captain. “Simply bring in the meal and poor the wine when needed.” The corner of his mouth turned up as he shot a glance at Shorty.
“Yes, Sir.” Catherine whispered, not daring to look up.
“Best get yerself to Cook, in case he needs you now. It will be some time before he serves the meal but he might be glad of a hand before then.” Shorty said as he walked off.
Catherine shook. Her father was sure to recognize her, then what? Not only would her father be furious, but she dreaded to think how Captain Harding would respond. She stepped through the hatch and into the galley.
“Cook, can I give you a hand with the meal? Alaric said you would be needing me to serve.” She swallowed again, she looked at her shaking hands and tucked them into her pockets. She had to stop, or Cook would notice something was amiss.
“Aye, laddie, peel and chop these.” Cook handed Catherine a knife and a bag full of potatoes. Back home, she had watched the cook and the other kitchen staff work. She would go down there just to have someone to talk to when her father was away. They had always been really kind to her, and they had taught her a few tricks. She carefully gripped the knife, and slowly began peeling. She caught Cook watching her, “You gonna have ta peel faster than that if we want ‘em to be done in time.” He pointed to the bag that sat next to her.
“Yes, Sir.” Catherine whispered. It was a slow start, she peeled a couple more, by the fourth potato, she was peeling much quicker.
She paused, wiped an arm across her forehead and looked at her handy work. “Done!” She smiled up at Cook. The potatoes were peeled and chopped. “What next?”
“Chop the carrots and watch the gravy, don’t let it burn.” Cook replied, glancing up for only a second, his round cheeks pink from working over the makeshift oven in the galley.
Catherine chopped the carrots while watching the gravy, she was not entirely sure what she was watching for. She grabbed a small spoon and stirred it a bit. It smelled wonderful. Her stomach grumbled. She was not used to eating only twice a day. Back home they would eat throughout the day. If she were to get hungry, there was always biscuits in jars in the rooms or she would only need to ring the bell and the maids or footmen would bring her refreshments. Catherine watched as Cook sprinkled herbs and spices over the meat and vegetables.
