Towering over us, the Sea Wolf lay beautiful and serene in the blue waters of the Caribbean. Her deck railings were lined with men and there were two figures at the bow. The captain, maybe, and the quartermaster. A rope ladder hung over the side, dangling into our longboat that had been maneuvered under it.
“Get up and climb, young mistress,” Bandit said. He held the bottom of the ladder while I stood, swaying with the motion of the longboat. Rung by rung I began to pull myself up.
“Set yer left foot first on the deck,” Bandit shouted. “Cap’n be’s superstitious. ’Tis bad luck to put yer right foot on the deck afore yer left ’un.”
I had a back thought of the first day I’d climbed onto the deck of the Reprisal. My father, the ship’s captain, had been already aboard. I remembered, as I climbed, how that first day, I’d been wearing the canvas shoes he’d bought for me, the way he’d cut the toes out of them with his cutlass when he’d discovered he’d bought them a size too small. He’d bought me the canvas trousers that I still wore, torn now and ragged. He’d bought me everything to wear that would disguise me as a boy and allow him to take me aboard his ship.
I clung to the rope ladder, racked with pain that was physical and spiritual, too. If only it were my father I was going to now, my father’s ship, my father’s loving presence. My own dear father, dead while trying to save me from the cat-o’-nine-tails.
There was a wind, one of the quick sudden wind bursts that blow up on the Caribbean. I clung tight to the ropes under my hands.
“Hurry along,” Magruder yelled from below. I heard the impatience in his voice and he gave the rope ladder a jiggle so that I had to steady myself with my bleeding feet against the side of the ship. My flute, which I had pushed into the torn band of my trousers, poked my stomach and scraped against the hull.
I clenched my teeth and began climbing again.
I was more than halfway up and the men on the deck had started to catcall and shout what might have been encouragement.
“Pull harder, matey!”
“Show a bit o’ muscle. Ye climb like a sick crab.”
They called words unintelligible, blown away on the wind, and leaned across the railing, urging me on. One of them spat, the glob missing me and hitting Magruder or Bandit or Skelly below. Whoever it was let out a howl.
The ladder swung away from the hull and back again, almost forcing me to lose my grip. I felt the extra weight on it, the sharp tug, and when I looked below I saw the top of William’s head. He had started up.
I had such a need then to climb down again, to be with him. We could jump into the ocean and swim for a while, then drown together.
“Don’t be lookin’ back, love,” William shouted. “Keep on lookin’ up.”
I kept climbing.
They hadn’t made me for a girl yet, but I had two more rungs to go before I was over the top. And what then?
Hands grabbed me and lifted me over to belly flop on the deck.
I felt the unbelieving stares of a hundred eyes.
“She be’s a girl,” a man yelled at last. “Cap’n. She be’s a female.”
There was a hubbub of voices and someone grabbed my torn shirt and ripped it off me. I pressed my naked self against the boards of the deck.
“Oh, aye, she be’s a female!”
“I can see that.”
“Step back, all of you!”
Heads turned to that voice. There was the shuffle of reluctant feet sliding away from me.
The wind had eased now and the forceful voice came to me clearly. “Jenks, take off that putrid rag of a shirt you’re wearing and give it to her.”
I lay, dazed, not believing what I was hearing. It was a woman’s voice that had given the order. A voice of authority but distinctly female. The captain was a woman!
“Aye aye, Cap’n,” the man, maybe Jenks, said and a foul-smelling shirt was dropped on my back. I wriggled into it and pulled it around me before I tried to get up. It fell to cover my exposed bosoms and stomach and the flute, still safe in what was left of the band on my trousers.
“Help her, you nincompoops. Help her up and then stand away,” the woman shouted.
“I’m able myself,” I said and struggled to my feet.
For the first time I saw her.
She was tall, so tall, and her hair was a red bush that circled her head, as big around as the wheel of a small cart. Her eyes were fixed on me with curiosity but I saw no vile intent in them. Her costume was that of any sailor, a loose striped shirt and bagging trousers. I saw the sharp edge of a cutlass dragging just below the hem of the shirt.
“Captain,” I said in a voice as strong as I could make it. “Thank you for saving us.”
William was beside me now. “Are ye all right?” His arm circled my shivering shoulders.
“Aye,” I whispered.
“Who have we here?” the captain asked. “Did ye put yer correct foot on my deck, ye lubber?”
William didn’t answer.
She was staring at him now and I heard the loud intake of her breath and saw her reach out toward him then pull her hand back. All she said was, “Who are you?”
“I am William. I was cabin boy on the pirate ship Reprisal.”
The captain slapped the shoulder of the man beside her whom I took to be the quartermaster. “The Reprisal is it, ahead o’ us? I was right in my surmising. It was worth our time to pick them up.”
Bandit took a step forward. “We hurried them back to ye, Cap’n.” The servility in his voice made me cringe.
I had recovered enough now to really look at her. I’d never seen anyone like her. She was one of those Amazon women I had read about, a race of warrior women in ancient Greece, so big and ruthless that all were afraid of them. This Amazon was taller than any woman I had ever seen and broad of shoulder. Her red hair gave off sparks and her eyes... they were RED. Red eyes. It could not be true! Who was she, this captain with the red hair and the red eyes, a woman so fierce and dominant that a ship filled with seamen did her bidding? A ship filled with pirates, for already I knew that was what they were. They crowded around us, watching and listening.
“Cook,” the captain called and a swarthy man stepped forward. “Yes, Cap’n?”
“Bring water and two dishes of that hen soup we had last night for our guests. Be sure there’s meat in it. Make haste.” She spoke her orders but I noticed her eyes were always on William. It made me uneasy.
But the thought of food was overpowering.
Saliva spurted into my mouth. Hen soup! Water! My thirst was suddenly so strong that my whole body shook.
“Now, the rest of you, you lazy stinking dogs, get this ship underway. We’ll need to catch up with the Reprisal before she comes upon the Isabella. Mr. Forthinggale! You stay here.”
There was a scurrying, a rush of men to the masts, voices calling orders. Lines were loosed. I heard the grating heavy scrape of a chain and realized the anchor was being raised.
I stood, stunned. She was after the Reprisal ! I’d never thought to see that ship again. The deck, stained with my father’s blood. Hopper and Herc who had marooned us.
Mr. Forthinggale stood by the captain. The remembrance of Mr. Trimble, quartermaster on the Reprisal, came to me. Mr. Trimble, quartermaster and friend to my father. Mr. Trimble who had betrayed me. I brought my mind back quickly for the Amazon captain was addressing me.
“You!”
William’s arm tightened around me.
“Leave go of her, William,” the captain said. “She be’s a woman. She can stand on her own. How are you called?” she asked me.
William’s grip did not loosen.
Under that red, angry stare he stood firm.
I spoke at once before the captain could scream or slash at him.
“My name is Catherine DeVault. My father was Captain DeVault, of the ship Reprisal.” I let myself slide down to sit with my back to the railing.
Under us I felt the deck sway, and when I looked up I saw that the sails were already spread and the Sea Wolf was moving.
“I am Captain Medb Moriarity, captain and owner of the Sea Wolf,” she said. “My father built this ship. Now she is mine.”
The words came from me before I could stop them. “Medb? You were called after the daughter of the High King of Ireland?
The captain’s eyes widened. “You know of her?”
“Yes,” I said. “The most renowned warrior. I have admired her.” I repeated the name. “Medb. I had not known the right pronunciation. Medb, which sounds like ‘seed.’ I have read of her exploits.”
She nodded. “So you have learning?”
“Yes, Captain.” I realized I was feeling dizzy and that the deck and the sky were turning circles in my mind. I blinked hard.
“How came ye to be marooned?” Captain Medb Moriarity asked.
I mustered the strength to answer, “When they found me to be female, they...”
The cook placed a bowl of water and another of soup in front of me and handed the same to William.
The smell wafted up to me and my eyes teared with anticipation. I took a long, sweet draught of water then grabbed the bowl. Grease beaded the top. There were potatoes in the soup and green leafy vegetables of some kind and a hen’s yellow foot. It kept bumping against my teeth as I drank. I felt strength coming back to me with each deep swallow.
The captain stood, watching.
When I’d drained every drop I picked up the hen’s foot, and gnawed and sucked on its gristle.
William took the hen’s foot from his own bowl and reached it to me.
“None of that,” the captain said. “You eat! She has had her share.”
“And I choose to give her my share,” William said and in an instant the captain stepped forward, grabbed the hen’s foot that was still in his hand and flung it over the side into the water.
“Next time, do as I tell you,” she said.
William shrugged. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.” His tone was insolent and I knew to be insolent with this woman would be a mistake. I waited for her rage and it came in the flare of her red eyes and the instinctive way her hand dropped to her cutlass.
She stood for a moment then said, “Careful, William. I may not always be this patient with you.”
I saw her look up then and I looked too.
There was the thump of wind in the sails and I could hear the hiss of the sea against the hull.
The Sea Wolf was underway.
I wondered what was in store for William and me now.