Quintspinner (32 page)

“How make you her in appearance?” Captain Raleigh shouted up.

The lookout hesitated a moment.

“You! Top mast! I ask you, what does she look like?” Captain Raleigh demanded.

“Sir … a frigate, Sir, I think, but ….”

“You think? How is it that your damned eyes cannot tell us?”

“Sir!” the lookout hollered down, “She’s a frigate, there were three masts, of that I am nearly certain, but … she’s dropped back over the horizon. Her sail showed but only a moment, Sir!”

Captain Crowell held the glass perfectly level to his eye, his hips and knees bending with the roll of the ship. He stared through it for several heartbeats, scanning the complete horizon behind the
Mary Jane.
Captain Raleigh stood by his side, waiting for his assessment of the intruder.

“I see no sign of her,” Captain Crowell finally spoke aloud. “Perhaps she has turned away, uncertain if we are pirates and therefore giving us wide berth.”

“Ahoy aloft! See you any sail still?” Captain Raleigh yelled up to the top hand.

“No Sir! Nothing since first sighting!”

Collapsing the spyglass down, Captain Crowell handed it to the sailor next to him. “Captain Raleigh and I shall confer with regards to this,” he informed the men. “It is for every man to keep a sharp eye. This close to the coast, we are within sailing distance of rogues who would mean us only great harm. For the present time, let us see some haste made through these waters.” He concluded in a voice low enough that only those standing directly at his side could hear, “I think it is not by coincidence alone that we are followed in our path by a strange ship.”

For the first time since the two crews had been forced into sharing the space of one ship, they felt a common concern strong enough to produce unquestioned co-operation among them. Those of the
Argus
marine division set about checking all available weaponry and ammunition supplies on board, while the men with the most sailing experience clambered up the riggings, furling enough canvas ahead of the winds to drive their ship onward. An extra lookout was ordered; now there was a man atop both the fore and main mastheads and several posted to the railings around the
Mary Jane’s
perimeter.

In spite of all of these extra reassurances, Tess could not quell the building storm of anxiety that prickled inside of her. She had been avoiding Edward whenever she could since their family background chat, and it did not bother her to leave him wondering why. Now, however, he cornered her and she felt new dread as he began to speak to her. Much to her surprise, he did not refer to their most recent conversation.

“You must remove your rings and store them safely out of sight. Come to my room and I will show you a hiding place for them.”

A ploy to get me back into his room! And even if it isn’t, why should I remove the rings now after boldly wearing them for all this time?

“Here,” Tess replied. “Take yours back if that’s what you want. I shall keep mine.”

“No!” Edward’s tone seemed more insistent that it needed to be. “They must stay together. Let me store them within the secret compartment in my cabin.”

“Why?”

“To keep them safe. To ensure that they remain yours.”

“But everyone on board has seen me wearing them. No one could steal them from me now, or they would suffer the Captain’s wrath.”

Edward’s dark eyes bore into Tess’s and his jaw clenched as though holding back a furious retort.

“You are feeling perfectly comfortable wearing them then?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course!” Tess lied. The itch had intensified to a slow burning sensation over the past day and in fact she felt no sense of comfort at all. The building uneasiness she felt inside, was fueled in part, she was sure, by Edward’s annoying presence.

Edward scanned her face as though trying to read her thoughts. Tess hoped that she was able to look impassive. Neither spoke for a long moment, and then the dangerous darkness of Edward’s eyes lifted, and the firm line of his mouth curved upward into a gentle smile.

“Well, perhaps at least, I could show you the compartment?”

A small bank of drawers, their faces built flush with the cabin’s wall, were situated at the foot of Edward’s cot. Their surfaces were ornately decorated in geometric patterns, fashioned from many inlays of different woods, stained and lacquered to a glossy finish. The pulls on each drawer had each been carved into a small five pointed star.

“See here, Tess,” Edward explained as he pulled the second drawer open. “It looks like an ordinary drawer. But things are seldom what they appear on the surface. Watch.”

Holding onto two of the tiny star’s points, Edward gave a sharp pull and the points lifted slightly away from the remaining three. Edward twisted the raised portion one half turn to the left. There was a soft click and then, to Tess’s amazement, the entire drawer front slid off the boxed frame. Turning the drawer front over in his hand, Edward slid the back open, revealing a small hollow space concealed within.

Tess could not be sure but she thought she saw a momentary sparkle emitted from within the secret space.

I shouldn’t be surprised that Edward would have even more valuables with him.

It made sense that he would hide such items. She wondered if all of the drawer faces contained such hidden spots.

“They would be safe in here,” Edward simply stated.

A last effort to convince me to part with them. Well, the emeralds are his. But how would I ever get mine back from him?

“Here. Take yours back but you’ll not have mine,” she asserted, as she twisted and pulled on the emerald spinner. The ring did not budge. Edward noticed her effort and spoke.

“I doubt that you can remove only one. Now that they have been reunited, they will not be so easily parted.”

“You may lose them by force, and lose not only the rings, if the vessel that shadows us proves to be hostile,” he continued with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Was he speaking truthfully to her? After a long pause Tess reluctantly held out her hand towards him.
At least if I removed them both,
she hoped,
the damned itch and burning would stop.

“Help me with their removal then,” she said, deeply sighing in resignation.

Smith and William found themselves on the mid watch together. Just after midnight the ship had entered into a fog bank and by now even the overhead carpet of stars was obliterated. The ocean was relatively calm and the
Mary Jane
rocked her way gently onward through the inky blackness.

“Eerie, ain’t it?” Smith remarked. “Not bein’ able to see any further than her bowsprit, I mean.”

William squinted into darkness but could see nothing, could not even make out the usual rows of white foam on the cresting waves alongside.

“Yeah,” he remarked to his friend, “it does feel funny–kinda’ like being suddenly blind.”

“Well,” Smith reassured him, “it’ll be dawn soon. The sun’ll burn this off. You’ll see.”

Being devoid of one of his senses while on lookout duty left William feeling nervous however, and he strained to listen to the sounds of the ocean around them. His ears picked up the usual creaks and familiar groans of the ship’s wooden structure, and the soft rustle of the canvases strung up high overhead–he had come to think of such noises as the ship’s pulse and breathing–and then he thought he heard a faint new rhythm. As quickly as it had pricked his senses it was gone ….

William cocked his head and leaned over the railing trying in vain to see past the impenetrable wall of fog that enveloped them. “Did you hear anything?” he asked Smith in a low voice.

Smith too, leaned over the railing and listened. He shook his head and looked questioningly at William.

There it is again!
A rhythmical splash, not unlike the ocean’s melody, a soft regular swish as their ship sliced through its surface, but this sound lagged ever so slightly, as though it were a half a beat behind their own.

And then it hit him. At first it was just an uncertain whiff. A faint tendril of pernicious stench, full of human decay, rot, and unwashed flesh. His nostrils flared involuntarily and he swallowed back his stomach’s attempt to empty.

William’s heart began to pound so hard in his chest that it felt as though it was knocking the air right out of him. He whirled on Smith. “Sound the alarm!” he hissed.

“What? What’s wrong?” Smith asked bewilderedly.

William’s eyes were wide with panic. “Do you not smell that?”

Smith inhaled deeply then exhaled. “Smell what? I smell nothin’.” He frowned, his deepening unease etching worry lines in his face. “C’mon Taylor, this isn’t funny. You’ll spook us all!”

William inhaled again. “Holy friggin’ Christ!” he whispered, paralyzed. “They’re here! There’s a friggin’ ship
right behind us!
I
smell them.”

Captain Crowell stood beside William and peered into the moist gray curtain which still wrapped itself around their ship. He turned and stared into William’s face. He himself smelled nothing, heard nothing out of the ordinary, but he had recognized the intense look of fear in another man’s face many times in his life and at this moment, it was staring back at him.

“Mr. Smith! As smartly as you can!” the captain suddenly demanded. “Pass my commands thusly with speed to all, Mr. Smith: Stir yourselves, down to the last man. All hands on deck, clear for action. Show no lights. Man the larboard battery and open the ports. Make stealth in all that you do.” He quickly returned his look to William. “And may we all be saved by your warning, Mr. Taylor. Although I have no proof of your claims, I’ll not send luck away.”

As he grasped the handle of the sword that hung from his scabbard, he added, “As for
your
orders, Mr. Taylor, I fear I have a desperate job ahead for you ….”