Page 149 of The Sea Witch
“I need a map of this region, sir. That is, if we have any left, after the witch’s destruction of my charts.”
Strickland shot Oliver a pointed look, and the lieutenant scowled but stalked from the cabin. A few moments later, he returned with a chart.
“We managed to replace some of the maps and books of charts,” Oliver grumbled as he laid it out atop a table. “At considerable expense, I might add.”
“I won’t accept blame for something I had no hand in,” Ben replied.
“If you hadn’t chased that Tanner cunt aboard theJupiter,” Oliver fired back, “she wouldn’t have deemed it necessary to set half the ship on fire.”
“You—”
“Enough,” Strickland clipped. “Arguing like fishwives when we could be learning important intelligence.”
“Yes, sir,” both Ben and Oliver muttered.
Ben bent over the map. He resisted the impulse to look in the location where Alys and theSea Witchwere located. Instead, he pointed in the opposite direction.
“Here,” he said decisively. “They were sailing toward Hispaniola. I believe they intended to wait for a merchantman en route to Spain, and relieve that vessel of its cargo of gold and jewels.”
“They may be witches.” Warne chuckled. “Yet to the last, they’re nothing but thieving piratical scum.”
Ben would never tell the mage, or anyone in the navy, about why Alys and her crew raided ships. The Royal Navy didn’t care.
“Excellent work, Mr. Priestley,” Strickland said.
“The state of your clothing is disgraceful,” Oliver barked. “You need a shave, and must change immediately.”
“I will gladly do so, Mr. Oliver,” Ben said calmly. “I assume everything in my quarters is still where I left it.”
“It is,” the lieutenant said through clenched teeth.
“Will you excuse me, sir?” Ben asked the admiral.
“Dismissed, Mr. Priestley.”
Ben saluted again and backed out of Strickland’s quarters, closing the door behind him. He briefly lingered at the door.
“Not sure we can trust him.” Oliver’s voice was muffled by the closed door.
“He has no reason to lie to us.” That was Strickland.
“Maybe the Tanner bitch ensorcelled him,” Warne’s jeering voice threw in.
“Were he anyone other than Priestley,” Strickland mused, “I might believe that. But the sailing master cares only for navigation. Nothing else is worth his interest.”
“Heisfond of his charts and maps,” Captain Gray noted.
“Keeps to regulation and order,” Strickland went on. “Whatever wiles that pirate witch might possess, they would find no purchase in the soil that is Benjamin Priestley’s heart.”
“The vulnerable organ I’m thinking of isn’t his heart,” Warne said, a smirk in his words.
“Fine,” snapped Strickland. “Go and speak with him, Mr. Warne. See if there’s anything more you can learn, any flaws in his tale.”
“Aye, sir.”
Ben hurried away from the door, keeping his footsteps as light as possible to avoid detection. He made his way to his quarters, which he shared with two lieutenants. The other members ofthe crew were currently not in their cabin, so Ben was alone as he pulled out his sea chest for a fresh coat and waistcoat.
As he laid the garments on his berth, Warne entered his quarters. The mage leaned against the bulkhead and watched Ben without speaking, all the while his long pale fingers plucked at the black sash around his waist.
