Rogue Wave (The Rogue Wave Series Book 1), page 6
The next morning, Lucas awoke to footsteps moving on deck. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and got up. He went to the trunk and pulled on a fresh white shirt, that hung loose on his chest. He pulled his boots on and headed for the hatch.
It was time to say farewell to Captain Lester and the Baron. Lucas clenched his jaw again and stepped onto the quarterdeck. He walked over to where Alaric stood.
“Looks as if you didn’t get a wink of sleep.” He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Did the bed bugs bite?” Alaric stepped back in time to avoid a smack on the head from his friend.
Lucas stepped up to Captain Lester and the Baron. “It was a pleasure meeting you men. I wish you the best on your voyage. Try not to run into anymore pirates.” He gave a lopsided smile. “And I hope you find a willing partner to assist you.”
“I thank you. Safe journey’s to you. I hope we will have the chance to dine together again. Until next time.” The Baron said before walking across the plank to board the other ship.
“A good day to you, Captain.” Captain Lester gave a slight bow to Lucas and Alaric who returned the gesture.
The crew separated the ships and unfurled the sails. The wind caught them with a loud crack and the ship jolted forward. Lucas scanned the deck, he had promised Allen he would show him the chest of books. He did not see him anywhere on deck. He turned to Alaric, “Where is the lad?”
Alaric simply pointed up with a huge grin, his eyes shining with a mixture of amusement and pride. “He heard the new recruits daring each other to climb the highest on the rigging, only one or two of them actually have climbed it thus far. The boy overheard and stepped forward. He asked if he could have a go. I gave him the ok, just before you came on deck. For such a spindly lad, he isn’t doin’ too terribly.” Alaric shrugged. “The boy pulls his weight and does what he is told.”
Alaric crossed his arms over his chest as they watched Allen climb high up in the rigging. As Allen reached the top, the crew erupted in howls and cheers. Allen waved down at them. Lucas swallowed hard, his hands balled into fists. He did not want to dampen the lad’s spirit; it took a lot to face the fear of climbing the rigging. Not all sailors could do it. But seeing him way up there made Lucas’s stomach tie in knots. He could not explain why, it was entirely normal for the new recruits to be dared to make the climb.
With the lad it was different though, he supposed it had to do with his young age and the fact that he was half the size of the rest of the crew. He would never make the fall if he slipped from that height. Allen began to make his descent.
“Have Allen see me in my cabin when he gets down,” Lucas said gruffly.
Alaric grinned, “Aye Capt’n,” he replied with sarcasm. “Don’t you worry, I’ll not tell the crew that I was the one who made the climb before you.” He let out a loud laugh as Lucas scowled at him. Alaric walked up to meet the boy at the bottom, no doubt going to congratulate the lad before sending him to Lucas.
Lucas stepped through the hatch. He walked over to the small window and peered out. There was a knock at the door. “Enter.” He called out without turning around.
The door opened slowly. Lucas did not look over at the boy; he was still afraid he would say something he should not about the lad climbing the rigging. Lucas walked over to the chest of books and clicked the small latch that held it shut, then lifted the lid. He gestured with his head for the lad to come over.
“Go ahead, see if there is anything in there that catches your interest.” He stood at the trunk; his arms folded across his broad chest.
Allen hesitated only a moment, then crouched down in front of where the books lay. Allen slowly and carefully began riffling through them. He would take one out, read the spine then set it aside. Lucas could tell the lad was enjoying the feel of books in his hands again.
Lucas crouched down beside the chest. He shuffled a few books around before he found the one he was looking for. He handed one to Allen. The binding was worn, and it had a bit of wear and tear on it. It was a dark brown and had been one of Lucas’s favorites. He noticed the boy’s eyes light up “Oh, the…”. Allen glanced at Lucas, his face turning crimson.
Lucas grinned, “The Adventures of Nicholas Treadfast, are a favorite of mine as well.” He would have laughed at the lad’s reaction if he had not looked so terrified. “I had known Treadfast was certainly not your actual last name. What about Allen? That is not really your name either, is it?” The boy shook his head slowly, staring down and the books. Lucas nodded, a grin still playing on his lips. “Are you going to tell me your real name now?”
Allen looked up at him, “I will tell you, I promise that.” Allen paused, swallowing hard. “I just cannot tell you at the moment. Once the voyage is over and we are back in Barbados, I will be off the ship and I will tell you then. You have my word.” Allen spoke low, almost a whisper. Lucas could tell the lad meant every word and decided to leave it at that. He would not press for his name, but he did want a little more information about him.
“I will hold you to it. Tell me though, you wear those clothes but clearly you are from a higher class. Your home is in Barbados, as you have said so yourself. What made you wish to buy passage on The Alice? I know you did not intend to end up on a Privateer ship.” Lucas patiently waited for him to answer. Allen was looking at the book again, running his small hands over the cover.
“I love my home; it is beautiful and…safe. I was rarely allowed to even leave the gates though, and if I did, it was only for a short time and usually it was to go dine at one of the estates.” Allen paused, looking up at Lucas again. “I mentioned before how I could see the ocean from my windows. I used to watch the ships coming and going, wondering what it would be like to be on one.” He paused again looking around the cabin. “One day I found the opportunity. I found my way to the docks and well, the rest you know.” He shrugged.
“I cannot fault you for wanting a wee bit of adventure, lad.” Lucas chuckled and shook his head. “I do not wish to explain to your parents that you fell from the rigging on my ship though, so promise me, no more climbing.” Lucas stood up. “Did you decide on a book to borrow?”
Allen grinned up at him. “I think we both know which book I will choose.” He said as he clutched the worn, brown one to his chest.
“Captain Nicholas Treadfast it is then.” He reached his hand out to help the young sailor up. The lad grabbed his hand as his face slowly grew scarlet again.
Allen quickly let go, brushing his hand against his breeches. He cleared his throat and looked at the floor. “Thank you again, Captain, for lending me the book.” Before Lucas could reply, the lad was out the hatch, heading on deck to continue his duties, still holding the book in his hands.
Lucas closed the chest and headed for the hatch. He needed a bit of fresh air himself. He enjoyed talking with Allen and had even looked forward to showing him the books, but there was something different about Allen. He could not place it.
Allen was not at all like the other men that boarded ships, granted he was younger than most, even young Benjamin was seventeen already. He also knew Allen came from a gentle born family but that still did not explain it. He shrugged it off and headed to the helm to join Alaric.
Catherine gripped the book in her hands tightly. She was shaking from having her hand in the Captain’s and revealing more than she intended. It felt good to finally speak about it, at least some of what had been plaguing her mind. The Captain was pleasant, he made her feel as if she could confess anything to him, though her true name and the fact that she was actually a woman was still going to have to wait.
The Captain was standing at the helm, his shirt slightly opened at the top, with his dark hair pulled back. He was gripping the wheel and talking with Alaric. Fear bubbled up at the thought of how angry he would be when he discovered her lies.
When he placed the Treadfast book in front of her, she had been overwhelmed with joy but then had realized why he had handed it to her. Her heart had stopped before she saw his eyes sparkling with humor. At that moment, she had not wavered in fear of retribution but rather in the fact that she had been completely taken in by the Captain’s eyes. She had never noticed before how much like the sea they were.
“You best go put that there book of the Capt’n’s in your hammock below decks before it falls inta the sea. He will not thank ye for that, laddie. You hurry and put it away, then come back here and finish your tasks.” Ol’ Shorty waved Catherine away, dismissing her before turning back to what he had been doing.
Catherine quickly raced through the hatch and into the room that held the swaying hammocks. She scrunched her nose as the smell hit her. It was damp and hot; the stench of the sweaty, unwashed bodies was enough to make her eyes water. Some of the men that had been on duty the night before were sound asleep, their snores echoing against the walls. One man looked near to falling out of his hammock, his arm and a leg were hanging off, close to dragging on the floor. His other arm was draped over his large chest, he was about as round as one of the barrels that held the grog. Catherine quietly placed the book in her hammock.
She was almost near the hatch to go back up on deck when Doc poked his head out of his cabin, stopping Catherine in her tracks. “I wonder, Allen, would you mind bringing me a fresh bucket of water?” He asked, looking at her over his spectacles.
“Oh, of course, I will bring it to you right away, Doc.”
“That a boy, lad.” He shared her smile before going back into his surgery.
Catherine felt more confident as the days went by. She now knew where most everything was and was catching onto the different terms used on the ship. When it was time for her evening meal she ate heartily, getting used to the ale and grog. The first time she tasted the ale, she had choked, spraying ale on the men that sat across from her. The table erupted with jokes and laughter. She enjoyed the friendly banter between the crew members and had jumped at the chance to climb the rigging.
When she heard them daring each other to climb the rigging, she knew she had to give it a try. The nervousness was replaced by the thrill of being so high up and being able to see across the vast ocean. As she climbed, her arms and legs grew tired and stiff. She was getting stronger by the day though. Still not nearly as strong as the rest of the crew. By the time the day was over, she was so exhausted that she no longer smelled the stale air or heard the snoring crew members. Despite her aching body, she even looked forward to her daily duties, the sea air and the feel of the ship cutting across the waters.
Catherine gathered the water in a wooden bucket that looked as if it would snap from the strain of carrying such a load. Carrying the wobbly bucket with two hands, she carefully stepped up the stairs, trying hard not to slosh the water. She heard a laugh and looked up,
“Come now sailor, put your back into and get yourself moving.” Benjamin bellowed, grinning down at Catherine.
“If you aren’t going to help me then quit standing there gaping.” Benjamin laughed even harder. “You know, if you don’t close that big mouth of yours the flies will get in.” Catherine blushed, though she felt pride for standing up to the sailor.
He was always cracking jokes and teasing her and the others as often as he found the chance. Quickly, he swooped the bucket up with one hand, still grinning, but now closed mouthed. She would never have dared to speak like that on the plantation. Emma would have been horrified.
At the top of the stairs, Benjamin handed her the bucket again. “You aren’t so bad, kid.” He ruffled the old hat that Catherine wore to conceal her hair. She quickly adjusted it. Benjamin was a good whole foot taller than her, he was slim, with muscular arms. His shaggy brown hair hung loose, not tied back like the Captain’s or Alaric’s. Benjamin leapt out through the hatch, letting in a burst of sunlight. Catherine stumbled along to Doc’s cabin. She set the water on the ground and knocked.
Doc answered the door, “Ah perfect, thank you. I don’t suppose you know how to stitch a torn sail do you?” Doc asked.
“I am sure I can. I have never stitched a sail, but I have worked on other fabric.” Catherine avoided saying she sat in a quiet room working on her needle point for absolutely no reason other than it was what women of her station were supposed to do. All that practicing would finally pay off.
“Wonderful!” The Doc exclaimed. “Let me get you what you will need to repair it. The sail is waiting on deck for you to patch, the men carried it up already.” He reached into a box and pulled out a thick needle, thread, and patch. “That should do it,” he said.
The hatch swung open and a large, solid figure collided with her. Catherine stumbled backwards almost dropping the needle and thread. She rubbed her forehead with her hand.
She heard a groan, followed by “Bloody hell.”
She looked up and her eyes widened. “Oh, Captain! I am so sorry, are you alright? I did not hear you coming towards the hatch, I had been just about to open it. I am to patch the sail…” She stammered, completely mortified.
The Captain rubbed his chin. He raised his other hand to silence her rambling. “It is alright, it was not your fault.” He managed to say. “Though I think you’ve gone and broke my jaw.” To her surprise he let out a low laugh that sounded more like a rumble.
“I can assure you, while it may hurt, the wee lad did not indeed break your jaw. You probably did more harm to him than he did to you.” Doc poked and prodded the Captain’s jaw then patted him on the cheek before turning to Catherine to examine his patient. He tilted her head up and felt around. “You will have a small bump but no worse for the wear. Tis surprising since you knocked into one of the hardest objects on deck.” He grinned and pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the Captain. “I reckon his head is harder than the mast.” Catherine and Doc both burst out laughing. The Captain scowled at them.
“Don’t you two have tasks you should be doing?” The Captain said gruffly.
Catherine stopped laughing but could not manage to wipe the smile from her face. “Yes, Captain.” She shot a glance at Doc, who winked at her. She walked past both men, glancing briefly at the Captain. She noticed his lips twitched slightly.
Catherine sat herself down and got as comfortable as she could in front of the massive sail. She tried threading the needle through the thick canvas. It was far tougher to punch the needle through the material than it was to do her needle point through the thin and delicate fabric back home. It did not take long before she got the hang of it though. She was focused on sewing the patch on properly and had not noticed how dark and breezy it had become.
“Allen, I want you down below. You are to stay there until told otherwise. You will be doing as Doc and Benjamin say and helping them if they should need it.” The Captain was standing above her. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were as grey as the sky. Catherine stood and looked around. The sky was growing darker by the minute, the boat was swaying more than usual, and none of the crew was smiling.
She looked back at the Captain; terror written across her face. “A storm?” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and wrapped her arms around herself. This was her one true fear of being aboard a ship. It was what her father had feared and what her mother had never recovered from.
“It will be alright; I only allow the most seasoned of sailors on deck during the worst of it. You are to stay below and help where you are needed.” The Captain’s gaze was serious and did not leave hers until she nodded.
“Aye Captain.” She was worried for the entire ship. He had turned to leave but she put her hand on his arm. “Please take care of yourself.” Her voice quavered.
Lucas’s brow furrowed. “It will be fine, just a wee storm.” She watched him head for the helm. She swallowed her fear and walked down through the hatch, leaving the more seasoned sailors on deck to brave the quickly building storm. The ship was now swaying and bucking, the roaring, angry ocean pounding against it’s hull. The sky had been near black by the time she had headed below decks.
“How long do you suppose the storm will last?” She asked Doc when she had found him.
He shrugged, “No telling, they can last for mere minutes to several hours.” He was helping Benjamin and a few other sailors get ropes and plugs ready in case of leaks or holes that might spring forth in the hull. Catherine heard a rumbling and a pounding from on deck. The storm was now entirely upon them. Shivering, Catherine grabbed onto the ropes, readying them, following the others sailors’ lead. There was faint shouting from above deck.
“Allen, help me with the leak, I’ll show you how it’s done, see here,” he pointed to a hole where water was now rushing in. “If it looks more like a hole it can be plugged, with one of these.” He held up a piece of round wood and a large club. He shoved the wood into the hole, causing the water to spray in all directions. She wiped her face with her sleeve, and watched as Benjamin hit the wedge, pounding it a few more times before water stopped spraying and the wedge held tight.
“Nothing to it,” he smiled at Catherine. “If the water rushes in from a long crack, that is when we use the ropes to plug them.” Catherine nodded, grateful for the distraction. Had any of the sailors been washed off the deck and into the dark waters? Would the Captain be able to steer the ship through the storm? She had little doubt about his ability to control his ship, but if a wave hit it or the mast snapped, then what?
Catherine felt water suddenly rushing against her leg. Remembering what Benjamin had showed her, she grabbed a wedge and the club. Benjamin had made it look simple, but the water poured in with more force than she had thought. The piece in her hand slipped out of her grasp. The hull had a few inches of water filling it, it usually had a few puddles in spots from small leaks but the rising water that was bursting through new holes and cracks was making it harder to find the wedge she had dropped. She felt around in the salty water and her fingers brushed against it.
