Page 64 of Blow Me Down
Renata and the ladies never rose before early afternoon, so Bas and I were usually on our own in the mornings. I found him sitting at the scarred table in the common room, morosely eating a bowl of porridge, which was the only thing he knew how to fix.
“Morning, Bas.” The raven, who stood perched hopefully on the edge of Bas’s earthenware bowl, squawked and flapped his wings at me. “Morning Bran. Bas, don’t let him eat off your spoon. You’ll get worms or something. Porridge again, eh? Well, we have a big day ahead of us. Let’s see if we can’t round up something a little more substantial.”
By the time I’d cooked up some eggs and fried ham and toasted half a loaf of bread while packing the other half in a basket with cheese, fruit, and some dried meat that looked like desiccated drowning victims’ flesh (Bas’s opinion) but tasted just like jerky, the sky was beginning to lighten and the square was coming alive.
“Eat up; then I need you to go round up the crew. Have them get theWenchready for sailing.”
Bas’s eyes lit up as he chewed a huge mouthful of eggs and ham. “We be goin‘
into the blockade, then?”
“Yup. Just as soon as I get the ship stocked.” I pulled a small leather pouch open and dug the eight silver coins from it, holding out my palm so Bas could see. “Look, reales! Bart gave them to me to stock my ship for the blockade.”
“Stock it with what?” Bas asked, crumbling up toast and pushing his plate over to where Bran hopped impatiently. The bird had almost as big an appetite as Bas did.
“Shot mostly. Cannonballs and wadding and a couple of kegs of powder. Oh, and Bart said to get some rum, too. I suppose I’d better bring along some ale for those of us who aren’t grog drinkers.”
Bas’s eyes lit up at the mention of cannons, but I left before he could express his hopes concerning cannon fire, with particular regards to its more gruesome aspects.
The square was bustling with people, even at that predawn hour—the women and children holding torches and lanterns and watching with big eyes from the doorways as the men hauled supplies down to the dock to stock the ships being readied for the blockade. I squinted at the harbor but couldn’t see anything in the blackness. Even so, I had a feeling Corbin’s fleet was out there somewhere. I wondered whether Corbin had gone home to Mongoose first or had just sailed his ship into the blockade line. Regardless, they were coming, and I needed to get ready.
“Ahoy, me hearties,” I called out a quarter hour later as I clambered up the wooden plank leading onto my ship. “Pru and Imp, the supplies are on a cart on the dock—please move them onto the ship. Tar, make ready to sail. Bas…
er… do something cabin boyish. I just need to get final orders from Pangloss, and we’ll be on our way.”
The crew didn’t jump to as I had hoped they would, but the twins shambled off with a couple of lanterns to bring the supplies on board, while Tar muttered sourly as he made ready with the lines.
I hurried off to find the first mate. He stood at the far end of the dock, calling orders to the crew preparing his ship. The other officers were doing the same.
Supply carts ran back and forth from the town’s shops to the ships, casting odd, twisting shadows in the flickering torchlight, turning the normally quiet dock into a madhouse of activity.
I wound my way through the people, carters’ donkeys, and barrels of gunpowder.
“Reporting for duty,” I said, saluting Pangloss smartly. He nodded to me, signaling he’d be with me in a minute. I used the time to chat up a few carters I hadn’t spoken to before, but none of them struck me at all as anything but computer characters.
“Amy, ye look fit and hale today,” Pangloss said, waving me over to him. “Are ye ready for the action ye’ll see, lass?”
“Absolutely,” I said, meeting his questioning gaze. “Any last-minute instructions?”
“None other than we’ll want ye to be concentratin‘ yer efforts on theJavaGuru.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Java Guru. It be the name of Black Corbin’s flagship. We didn’t know which ship he’d be usin‘, but there’s no mistakin’ theGuru. She be painted the ungodly colors of red and black.” He handed me a spyglass, pointing toward the opening of the harbor. I opened the glass, squinting through it to look out.
There wasn’t much light at all, but beyond the arms of the harbor, a dark silhouette became visible against the slightly lighter horizon. A flash of light high up on the silhouette gave me a moment’s vision of a mast flying a red flag.
“Sounds very distinctive,” I said. “So you want me to shoot her up? She looks big.”
“Aye, she’s a barque.”
“Ugh. That could blow me out of the water.”
“If ye get broadside to her, aye, she could. But ye won’t, now, will ye, lass?” He beetled his eyebrows meaningfully at me.
“I guess not.”
“Ye need to be sailin‘ now, before it gets light enough for them to see that ye’re comin’ from the island. Hug the shore until ye get to the harbor entrance, then turn leeward and catch up at the tail of the blockade line.”
