Page 128 of The Sea Witch
“We faced them, after St. Gertrude,” Alys said. “They came to aid theAjax, and damn if we didn’t barely make it out with bleeding scratches on our souls.”
Fowler’s lip curled. His fair skin had been roasted by years in the sun, and his blond hair was almost colorless. “I’m talkin’ about hell for them that served on it. Once, I was one of ’em.”
Ben had never seen Fowler aboard theJupiter, not while he’d been aboard. But then, Fowler possessed the stoop shoulders and sagging flesh of one who’d served the navy for many years.
Alys knocked her tankard against the mug in Fowler’s hands. “A twenty-one-gun salute for surviving.”
“Ain’t no joke, lass.” Fowler grunted. “I was an able seaman on theJupiter. Was aboard that day, off the north coast of Jamaica.”
Ben forced himself to breathe slowly and he let his gaze roam around the chamber, moving from the chandelier to a plate of roast goat to a man throwing knives at a vase.
“Tarrier’s going to have to eat his words,” Ben said casually.
“Whoever this Tarrier is,” Fowler said, “he wasn’t nowhere around. It was just theValiantwhen theJupitercame up alongside. This was afore Strickland became admiral. The Royal Navy was looking for someone to head the Caribbean fleet. Priestley and Strickland, they were both vying for the spot. I was damned surprised that Strickland himself was rowed over.”
“Why surprised?” Alys asked.
“Strickland and Priestley were as friendly as two eels in a bag. Hated each other. But when theJupiterand theValiantmet, Strickland and Warne went aboard. And when they came back, Strickland, he...” Fowler took a drink, but it didn’t wash away the disgust twisting his features. “Had blood on ’im.”
“Then he sounded an alarm,” Alys prompted.
“Did no such thing,” Fowler retorted. “He went down to his quarters and theJupitersailed away.”
Ben pushed out a laugh. “An admiral killing a captain.”
“Strickland was a commodore then,” Fowler threw back.
“But you didn’tseeit,” Alys insisted.
“Didn’t need to see it to know what happened.” Fowler glanced warily around before saying lowly, “?’Specially after I heard it was reported the captain of theValiantwas killed by pirates.”
Blue John, who’d been silent through this, let out a low whistle. “Hell. Navy killing navy.”
“Where’s the sense in it?” Dupont exclaimed.
“There’s sense in it,” Fowler insisted. “Strickland, every six months, he used to sail us into a strait between these cliffs. There was a building, big and gloomy, on one of the cliffs. He’dsend a cutter out with a dozen seamen on it. Two weeks later, theJupiter’d come back, and collect them.”
“Those seamen... they must have said what happened,” Ben said.
“Silent as the bottom of the sea.” Fowler shuddered. “Whatever Strickland was doing, sending those seamen off, the admiralty wouldn’t like it. And I’m guessing Priestley, he got wind of it, somehow.”
“Priestley was going to tell the admiralty,” Alys deduced.
“I knew one day,” Fowler continued, “it’d be me on a cutter, sailing to that pile of bricks on the cliff. And when I heard that Strickland said pirates killed Priestley...” He scowled. “My next shore leave, I hared off. Signed articles with Flores, and stayed well away from His Majesty’s Navy.”
Ben barely remembered how to breathe as he dazedly moved away from the group of pirates. The world blurred around him. There was a roaring in his head that had nothing to do with music or human voices. His whole body was stiff and awkward, lumbering around like an automaton that had lost its key, and his shattered thoughts littered the tile floor. Everything was in chaos and nothing made sense.
“Ben. Ben!”
Alys materialized before him. She took one look into his face before grabbing hold of his hand and leading him into a corner. The feel of her skin against his was his only anchor.
When they were in the relative privacy and calm of the corner, she cupped his face with her hands and stared into his eyes. “I’m here.”
“Strickland took me aboard his ship,” Ben choked out. “Encouraged me to go to London to test for becoming his sailing master. He knew I wanted to find my father’s killer. Heknew. The whole time. And he... The fucking bastardcommiseratedwith me. Told me he wanted to bring the murderer to justice. But it was him. And Warne.”
“We don’t know if we can believe Fowler.”
“There’s no reason for him to lie.” Ben dragged his hands through his hair. “What a goddamnjestthat must have been for Strickland and Warne. How they surely laughed as I tracked buccaneers across the Caribbean, certain one of the pirates was the murderer. But it was Strickland... with some kind of pactwith the Redthorns. Sending them men for... God knows.”
