Dawn was just coloring the horizon when Guy came bursting into the bedroom to wake the captain. “There’s a ship, Hal,” he said. “Looks like it might be a slaver.”
Hal pulled away from Kyle and rolled out of bed. Kyle sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He had started to wonder if all the stories he had heard about the excitement and adventure of a pirate’s life were just that — stories — because so far they’d been handed cargo without a fight and had a friendly meeting with other pirates. Beyond that is was days of quiet work, tarring and sewing sails and scrubbing the deck. But he knew this was different, that it was serious, because Guy wasn’t joking or making sarcastic comments. He was all business, jaw tight as he waited in the doorway while Hal got dressed. “Will they put up a fight?”
“It’s likely. Ever used a pistol, kid?” Guy asked.
Before Kyle could answer, Hal shook his head. “No. He’s not going.” He stood up and pushed past Guy and out into the cabin.
Kyle scrambled out of bed, grabbing his breeches and stepping into them as he followed Hal. “What? What do you mean I’m not going?”
“You’re not going,” Hal said. He strapped his sword to his side. “You don’t have the experience in a fight and…” He glanced sideways at Guy.
Guy looked from one to the other. “I’ll, uh, be up on deck.” He hurried out of the cabin.
As soon as the door closed, Hal looked at Kyle. “This is far more dangerous than the usual ships. I’m not getting you killed.”
“I know how to handle a sword, Hal!”
“In a back garden for entertainment!” Hal retorted.
Kyle glared at him. “You do think I’m useless, don’t you?”
“No!” Hal stepped towards him and grabbed his shoulders. “No, I don’t think you’re useless. I just …” Hal caressed Kyle’s cheek. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Kyle pushed Hal’s hands away. “I’m not your wife, Hal! I don’t need you to look after me. I’m a man as much as anyone else on this crew.” He frowned. “Well, except Soranik. But I bet you’d let her fight!”
“Yes, I would. But Soranik has been fighting for survival since she was a child.” Hal grabbed his coat and put it on.
Kyle clenched his fists. “I thought I was a part of this crew!”
Hal closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fine.” He picked up the sword and scabbard and thrust it into Kyle’s hands. “But you’ll stay with me or Guy, and do whatever we say. Do you understand?” Kyle nodded and Hal turned and stalked out of the room.
Kyle finished getting dressed as quickly as possible, then went out on deck. Everyone was in motion, either working the lines or gathering weapons. Isamot was hoisting the flag and Kyle saw it was red rather than black — the flag that told the other ship they would ‘give no quarter’. If they didn’t surrender, they would be killed.
Kyle looked to the other ship. It was flying the flag of the African Company of Merchants, which Kyle recognized because his father was invested in the company. It gave him satisfaction that they would be hurting his father — even indirectly — in some small way today.
“They’re still trying to get away,” John said as the captain came to stand next to him at the rail. “They don’t show any sign of slowing.”
Hal nodded, then turned to shout into the entryway to the deck below. “Let them know we mean business, Mister Kilowog!”
Kyle frowned, wondering what Hal meant, then jumped at the boom of cannon. The balls crashed into the slaver ship, sending wood and bodies flying on the top deck.The slaver fired back. Kyle instinctively cringed, but the destruction he expected never came. There were only heavy thuds and the Dawn rocked slightly. Kyle peered over the side of the ship, and was shocked to see she didn’t appear to have any damage at all. The lantern was apparently doing its job.
“They’re dropping the colors,” John called out.
Hal nodded and turned to the crew. “Are we ready to go, Mister Gardner?”
“Ready to go, Captain.”
Hal looked back at Kyle, a frown on his face, and for a moment Kyle was afraid he was going to change his mind. Then he sighed. “Let’s go. Mister Salaak, you have the ship!”
They climbed down the rope ladder into the launch. John and Guy were there, along with twenty other men. Along the rail of the Emerald Dawn, the rest of the crew had muskets aimed at the slave ship.
There was no other resistance from the slavers after their cannons failed to inflict any damage. They were a ragged lot and many of them looked ill. They did as they were told, kneeling in a group near the stern of the ship. They knew who they were dealing with, because Kyle heard the occasional whispers of ‘Jordan’ and ‘devil’. Guy had his sword drawn and he stood near the group of men, glaring at them. Kyle stood next to Guy, his own sword out and ready. He could feel it in the air that this was different than raiding the cargo ship, and he had a sudden rush of panic. What am I doing here? I should have listened to Hal. I’m going to get killed…
Hal gave the captured sailors a glance, then pointed to the stairs. “Gather some men and we’ll go below, Mister Stewart.”
Kyle swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, as he wondered if any of the ship’s crew was still below and worried if Hal would be in any danger. He didn’t realize his hand was shaking until Guy grabbed his wrist to steady his sword. “They’ll be fine,” Guy murmured under his breath. “It’s the slavers that had better be making their peace.”
Hal came back soon, barely contained rage on his face. He went over to one of the slaver’s sailors. “There’s less than a hundred people alive down there on a ship built to carry at least two hundred. Why?”
The man quailed under Hal’s gaze. He gave a glance down the line of his crewmates, then spoke. “They tried to revolt. A lot of ‘em got killed. Most of the others died of the flux. Or scurvy.”
Hal turned on his heel and stalked over to a man dressed in a fancy wool coat and tricorne hat. “You’re the captain?” Hal asked coldly.
The man drew himself up. “Yes, I am. And you have no right to—”
Kyle didn’t even see Hal draw the pistol from his belt. In the blink of an eye there was a bang and a waft of smoke, and then the captain fell over in a spray of red with a hole in the middle of his forehead.
Kyle gasped, shocked to see Hal so ruthless, to see the man he shared his body with every night kill another man in cold blood. So the stories weren’t entirely falsehoods…
Hal looked at the man next to the dead captain. He was cowering at Hal’s feet, the right side of his body spattered with his captain’s blood. “For God’s sake have mercy, sir!” the man begged.
“God?” Hal sneered. “I am the wrath of God.” Hal looked over the group of trembling sailors. “If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.” One of the men moaned and crossed himself, and more than a few had their eyes closed, their lips moving it what Kyle assumed was prayer.
Hal weighed the gun in his hand, as if considering who to shoot next, then stuck the weapon back into his belt and turned away from the frightened men to go down the steps below deck again.
John came up next and Kyle watched in horror as his shipmates helped the slaves climb up onto deck. They were naked, filthy, and looked nothing but skin and bones. How could anyone do this to another person…
He swallowed hard and glanced at Guy. Guy had his jaw set, glaring at the slaver crew. “What’s going to happen to the them?” Kyle whispered, gesturing towards the sailors.
Guy shrugged. “Whatever the captain feels like doing with them.” He gave a wry grin and drew his finger across his throat.
Kyle looked back at the sailors. They looked almost as terrified as the people being moved onto the deck and he couldn’t help but pity them. “He’s going to kill them, isn’t he?” he asked, his voice shaking.
Guy shook his head. “Look, if you’re going to be a part of the crew, then you’re going to have to get a stronger stomach. We’re pirates, kid! This is what we do. Especially when it’s slavers we’re dealing with. They get as much mercy as they gave the people they’re carrying.”
Kyle bit his lip. On one hand he could understand, especially watching the slow progression of the people from the hold of the ship. Some had to be supported, some of the children being carried were limp … He fought a sudden wave of nausea and wondered if his father even cared about the suffering his investment caused. But he also felt uneasy about killing the sailors. Even cold-blooded murderers got a trial.
“It’s amazing these people are still alive,” John said, coming up to stand next to Guy. “I’m going to go get Soranik.”
“Sure thing, Johnny,” Guy said. “We’re not going anywhere.” He looked at Kyle. “Do you want to go back to the Dawn? It might get kind of ugly over here.”
Kyle shook his head. He’d demanded to be brought along. And he was going to prove he belonged here.
Hal returned and gestured to Isamot and Vath. “There’s chests of coin in the captain’s cabin. Take it back with us. Leave everything else.” The men nodded and went down the steps. Hal turned cold eyes onto the sailors. “Now let’s get this lot sorted out.” He drew his sword, and Guy and the others stepped forward to join him.
“Wait,” Kyle said, his voice shaking. “You’re going to just kill them?”
Hal scowled at him. “Considering how they treated those people in that hold? Yes.”
Kyle reached out to grasp Hal’s arm. “But, Hal—”
“Do not question me, Mister Rayner!” Hal snarled.
Kyle let go of his arm and stepped back. “Sorry, Captain,” he mumbled. He turned and went to the bow of the ship, leaning against the rail to look over at the Emerald Dawn. The launch had reached the ship and John was already climbing up the ladder.
Behind him, he could hear the begging and pleading of the sailors, then the shouts of pain and the thud of bodies on the deck. Kyle dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t know what to think. Of course the men deserved a death sentence for what they’d done to the slaves. It was the idea of Hal single-handedly passing judgement that disturbed him.
It also bothered him, more than he expected, that Hal had shouted at him and called him ‘Mister Rayner’.
Well, you did want to be part of the crew, didn’t you?
Kyle sighed. It had hurt. And it made him question Hal’s feelings for him. Maybe he was just a ‘willing’ crew member for the captain until he found another willing man to share his bed? Maybe he’d be a ‘dear friend’ in a few years, just like Ollie, that Hal no longer desired?
The cries of the sailors finally ceased and Kyle spared a glance towards the stern. Only his own shipmates remained alive, standing amidst a mass of bloodied bodies. He looked at the Africans. Some had hidden their faces, but others were watching the carnage, a look of satisfaction on their faces.
The boat returned and Soranik climbed up over the rail, a canvas bag slung over her shoulder. “Are you all right?” she asked Kyle, brows furrowed.
“Fine,” he mumbled. “Do you need any help?” He needed something to take his mind off Hal, to help him avoid Hal.
“Always,” she said. She sighed and made her way over to the Africans. Kyle followed. The people looked up at them from gaunt faces, sores and filth covering their bodies, and Kyle started to think that maybe the sailors got exactly as they deserved.
Hal came over to Soranik. “Do you have everything you need?” he asked. “With the condition of this mast you’ll probably need a day longer to reach Hispaniola.”
She nodded. “John went back for food and water. Enough for three days at least.”
“Good.” Hal turned to shout over his shoulder. “The ship is yours, Mister Gardner.” Then he looked at Kyle, his expression stony. “Let’s get back to the Dawn,” he said in a low voice. “We need to have a talk about—”
The words just tumbled out of Kyle’s mouth without any thought. “I’m not going with you.”
Everyone paused in what they were doing, staring in surprise at Kyle. Hal looked genuinely confused at first, then his eyes narrowed and jaw set. He was obviously a man who was not used to his orders being refused or ignored. His eyes darted around to look at the crew, who were suddenly finding things to do to ignore the tension between their captain and his lover. “You’re not coming with me?”
Kyle looked Hal in the eye defiantly. “I’m going to stay and help Soranik.”
“Soranik has plenty of help,” Hal said, gesturing at the other crewmembers. “I need you to come with me.”
Kyle crossed his arms. He was angry at Hal, angry that he was going to order him around like this, as if he were guilty of insubordination rather than a lover’s quarrel, and there was no way he was going to give in. “And she can always use more help. It’s better if I stay here.”
Hal looked like he was going to argue, but instead he clenched his jaw and turned on his heel. “Let’s go,” he growled at Isamot and Vath. He went to the rail, swiftly climbing down to the boat below.
“Not a wise choice, kid,” Guy muttered, coming over to stand next to him. “He doesn’t like being challenged.”
Kyle glared at Guy. “Maybe he needs someone to challenge him.” He turned to Soranik and gestured towards the slaves. “What do you need me to do?”
John came back with a barrel of fresh water and canvas bags stuffed with food. “Limes,” he said, dropping a heavy bag at Kyle’s feet. He pulled a knife from his belt and handed it to Kyle. “We’ll need them cut up.”
Kyle nodded and dragged the bag to the bow. He wanted to stay out of the way of the crewmen working on the damage the Dawn had inflicted on the ship. It also put him as far as possible from where Guy and the others were dumping the corpses of the slavers overboard. Kyle had little pity left for the men, but that didn’t mean he had to watch their bodies being thrown to the sharks.
And it was a good place to watch the Dawn disappearing into the horizon. She was still close enough that Kyle could see Hal at the wheel. His stomach churned with worry. What if he’d made a mistake?
He hissed when the knife nicked the tip of his thumb, the wound stinging from the lime juice. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and sighed. No, he had to stand up for himself. He’d been ordered around by others his whole life, always trying to please someone: his father, Todd, Alan, Hal. Even an entire society that despised him. It was time he took control of his life.
By the time their ship caught up with the Emerald Dawn, anchored off a small bay on the north shore of Hispaniola, Hal had contacted the nearest settlement of maroons, Africans who had fled into the mountains to escape slavery. They were waiting on the beach when the slave ship arrived.
Kyle did his best to avoid Hal while they moved the newly freed slaves from the ship to their new home. He busied himself helping the weaker people ashore, then offered to help Soranik carry her bag of supplies back to the Dawn.
She glanced towards Hal, who was talking with the leaders of the settlement, then nodded at Kyle. “All right.”
The Dawn’s sickbay was a large room in the bow of the lower deck with hammocks strung along one wall and a long table in the center of the room where Soranik did her work. To the right was a smaller room where Soranik lived. Kyle dropped the bag on the table then turned to the doctor. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight?”
Soranik raised her eyebrows. “Mister Rayner! You know I do not get involved with my shipmates.”
“What? No!” Kyle felt the blush burning his cheeks. “That’s not what I meant! I mean—”
Soranik burst into laughter. “I know what you meant. And you are welcome to use one of the hammocks as long as you like.” She crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern look. “But don’t you think you should work things out with the captain?”
“Maybe. Or perhaps I should just leave the ship the next time we’re in port.”
“Kyle …” She smiled gently and embraced him. “It will work out. You’ll see.” She reached up to ruffle his hair. “You are good for him you know. I have never seen him in such good spirits before you joined us. And it’s good for him, to have someone who will stand up to him.” She grabbed a neatly folded blanket from a shelf and thrust it into his hands. “So you can hide out here in the sick bay tonight,” she said. “But tomorrow, you need to talk to him.”