Kage Baker: Or Else My Lady Keeps the Key

There was some grumbling among the men about Mrs. Waverly getting the earrings, but Captain Reynald spoke a few more high-flown words about gallantry and beauty. In the end the wounded crawled or were carried off to the foc’sle and the unscathed lugged the plunder below, and that was that.

They made for Tortuga next day, sailing through fair weather. Only the weather was fair; there was a glum and quarrelsome mood on board the Harmony , and not just from resentment over Mrs. Waverly being given the emerald earrings. (Though it was true that one or two malicious parties accosted John in various corners, to tell him that they had positive proof he was being cuckolded by Captain Reynald. The horns being false, John still felt profound irritation at being suspected of wearing them.)

No, the main disquiet amongst the crew was generated when they began to complain of the loss of small valuables. One man missed a little pearl-handled knife, another a lucky trinket, still another a ring he had taken from a dead man. No one could point a finger at who might have done it.

And two of the crew got in a fight over what one had said about the other’s religion, and knives were drawn, and one of them lost an eye in the fight. His screams and moaning kept the whole ship awake, until his desperate mates fed him enough rum to shut him up. Captain Reynald was aghast. He lectured both the combatants next day, long and earnestly, on the need to set aside old sectarian grudges in favor of secular unanimity.

And, in addition to his other woes, Mr. Tudeley developed a toothache that nothing could ease, though his shipmates pointed out that holding a mouthful of rum would kill the pain, or at least keep him from caring about it.

And the stores of food turned out to have been miscounted, and they had to go on half rations the last few days, though Mrs. Waverly was excepted. The captain explained that a delicate female must not be expected to endure the same hardships as a seasoned corsair.

“Next thing they’ll do, they’ll start talking about how a woman’s bad luck on a ship,” said Sejanus, winding a length of fishing-line. “You’d better mind the lady, lest they put her over the side. Nothing more dangerous than a pack of scared whites.”

“Bugger off,” said John, watching grumpily as Captain Reynald demonstrated the use of an astrolabe to Mrs. Waverly. “Why’nt you go over on the Fraternity and serve alongside the other darky, if you find us so damn funny?”

“What other darky?”

“The other one,” said John. “Him that was right beside you in the thick of the fight, when we took the Santa Ysabel .”

“I didn’t see any other black men.”

John stared at him. “How’d you miss him? He was big as a house. Whacking away at the Spaniards with that bleeding great cleaver he carried.”

Sejanus shrugged. “You saw wrong. Must have been an indian, or a white man all smoked up.”

So certain he was, John supposed himself mistaken, what with all the fire and blood and confusion.

They came in sight of Tortuga that afternoon, and there were wild cheers when her green mountains could be made out. Later men crowded the rail as they cruised along her south coast, watching for the little town by the lagoon, where a river came down to the sea. The late slanting sun made all the houses look as though they were on fire.

Yet Tortuga was growing peaceful these days, not so much a place of drunken mayhem as it had once been. A thoughtful governor had imported better than a thousand whores, to turn the attention of the populace to more domestic matters. Many of the buccaneers had married and settled down now, scratching out livings on little farms up the steep-sided canyons. Some had opened taverns and shops on the waterfront.

There was no harbor to speak of, so both Harmony and Fraternity moored off the lagoon and sent men ashore in the longboats. Captain Reynald went ashore briefly and returned with one M. Delahaye, a shabby-looking little man with spectacles. He led him on a tour of the Harmony ’s cargo deck to display her plunder. The two men talked affably together in French, as M. Delahaye made notes on a slate he carried with him, and at last he chalked up a figure and displayed it to Captain Reynald. Apparently Captain Reynald was pleased with the figure, for the two men embraced and went back ashore to seal their bargain with a friendly bottle of rum.

John watched wistfully from the rail, as the last of the crew prepared to go ashore.

“Reckon you’ll be glad to see our backs, eh?” said Anslow, digging him in the ribs. “You and the missus get some privacy at last!”

John smiled and nodded. “To be sure,” he said, thinking how winsomely the yellow lights of the town beckoned. There would have been good food ashore, and rum, and willing ladies to whom he’d have owed no debt but their set price.

“I don’t know but that I oughtn’t stay on board too,” said Mr. Tudeley, perched indecisive on the rail.

“No, you want to go ashore and have a hell of a good time,” said Anslow firmly, jerking his head at John and mouthing the words Honeymoon, remember? at Mr. Tudeley.

“You come on down, now,” said Sejanus, laughing as he rose to help Mr. Tudeley into the boat. “Maybe there’s a bookseller’s stall here. Maybe there’s a barber-surgeon to draw your tooth. Maybe there’s a church! You won’t know if you don’t go see.”

“I may as well,” said Mr. Tudeley, with a sigh.

They rowed ashore. John turned, wondering whether in fact he might win back Mrs. Waverly’s attention, if not her affections. He made his way down to their cabin, hefting a lantern, and found her emerging from the cabin with her arms full of bedding.

“Ah! There you are, Mr. James,” said Mrs. Waverly. “I thought I’d take the opportunity to sleep in my old cabin tonight. I have so fearfully crowded you.”

“Obliged,” said John gruffly. He felt a strong urge for a stiff drink, but the rum was locked away on the orlop deck. “I reckon I’ll sleep on deck, all the same, since there’s just me to keep watch.” He remembered Mr. Tudeley had been given some rum for his toothache, and wondered if there was any left. “Pardon me, ma’am.” He edged past her and opened Mr. Tudeley’s cabin, and thrust the lantern in.

Mr. Tudeley’s trunk was standing open, his clothes and books strewn everywhere. John grimaced at the untidiness. “Landlubber,” he muttered. He spotted the wooden tankard to one side and picked it up, but even before he opened the lid he could tell it was full. He tilted back the lid and peered in, and his mood brightened at once.

So he carried the rum up on deck, and sat there a while sipping it, looking up at the stars. He heard music coming from across the water, and sounds of raucous merriment from the little buildings with their yellow lights. It put him in a sentimental mood. He fell to thinking about Mrs. Waverly, and the way she’d wept for Tom Blackstone. He wondered whether any woman would weep for him when he should meet his end, whether he met it in battle or drowning in the green sea, or dying at a decent age in his brickyard…

He heard Henry Morgan’s voice in his head, then, telling him sharply that he was becoming self-pitying sodden drunk. “Aye, sir,” John said. He sighed, sitting upright and closing the lid of the tankard. He carried it belowdecks and set it back where he’d found it, in Mr. Tudeley’s cabin. Then he thought he’d better get his hammock, so he edged down the passage and went into his cabin.

Preparing to unfasten the hammock, he took out the roll of folded sailcloth he’d been using as a pillow and tossed it on the deck. It landed with a hard sound, a sort of rattling tinkle; several objects spilled out of it. John peered down, surprised. Then he grabbed the lantern and held it down to see better.