A hammock was already strung between two wall pegs. Who had done that? The one they called Gummer.
The captain would still be at the table, with William and the others. Had he noticed that I was gone? Did he hope to dream of me as I hoped to dream of him?
I found the bottle of unguent and read the label.
RELIEVES ACHES
ASSUAGES PAIN
STIMULATES HAIR GROWTH
EMULSIFIES SKIN
I sniffed it. The smell was powerful but not unpleasant. Before I applied it I needed to find the seats of easement. On the Reprisal they had been at the bow, under the red dragon figurehead. I had not seen them anywhere here.
I laid my flute on my hammock and went up on deck. It was true night now. A million stars speckled the sky and the Sea Wolf hissed softly through the sea as if she smelled the prey ahead and was following the scent.
I started toward the bow then saw a lone seaman leaning over the railing.
“Can you direct me to the seats of easement?” I asked him.
He stared at me blankly, then laughed, a roaring, raucous laugh. “By heaven, that be’s a curious word for it. We just refers to it as the hole. Turn around. It be’s back there at the stern, far as ye can go. But there be’s no seats of easement girl. If ye want easement ye have to take yer chances.”
“Thank you,” I said with as much dignity as I could summon.
Another gust of laughter followed me as I went quickly to the stern.
“Don’t fall in,” he called.
There were indeed no seats. There was just a net with a hole in the middle that could swing out over the sea. It looked precarious but I climbed into it and pushed away from the deck. Underneath me was moving black water with a topping of white foam. I was thrown this way and that in the net cradle as it creaked and scraped against the hull. Up and down, side to side at the mercy of the ship. It was a strange contraption but it sufficed. When I was ready I pulled myself back to safety using the wooden bar at the side.
The captain was not yet back in the cabin. She might have been attending to her duties or still sitting at the table with William. I told myself it did not concern me, but it did.
I took off my green pantaloons and rubbed my legs that were sore to the touch. I kneaded my fingertips. The bleeding on them had stopped but when I examined them under the lamp I saw small pink puncture wounds.
In the bundle of clothes we’d taken from the sea chest I found a red-striped jersey, stained and torn at one armpit but better than the one I wore, the one Jenks had given me when I first fell onto the deck of the Sea Wolf. Could it have been only this morning? Could it have been only last night that William and I were together, facing death on Pox Island? Do not think of this now, Catherine, I told myself. Do not.
Bent over I could step inside the cupboard to change my shirt. The door to the cabin was open and I had no trust of the pirates on the Sea Wolf although the captain had given them such strong warnings to keep away from me. I changed my shirt, then took my flute and sat in the throne chair.
Softly I played, ignoring the stinging of my fingertips.
“Come home from the sea, my darlin’, my dear,
Come home from the sea to me.”
My mother loved this plaintive, sorrowful song. She told me it was about a fisherman’s wife waiting for him on the rocks while his fishing boat was caught in a storm. My mother’s eyes would well with tears and I always knew that when she listened to it she was thinking not of that fisherman but of my father, off somewhere on the high seas in the Reprisal. Come home to me, my darling, my dear. My husband.
Foolish of me tonight to play a song so slow and sorrowful. I changed to another for myself. “Dancin’ a jig at Mahoney’s Pub.” It wanted to be loud and merry but I played it softly. No need to attract attention.
I eyed the books on the shelf, then got up and pulled out The Tain.
Medb, Queen of Connacht, proud, imperious, strong, confident. I turned page after page, fascinated by her likeness to Captain Medb Moriarity.
She came into the cabin.
Immediately I was uneasy.
“You are reading?” she asked.
“Aye.” I jumped up to replace the book on the shelf, wishing I had not taken such a liberty with her possessions.
“Sit ye down then and read aloud. It is a long time since my father read to me from The Tain. Read to me of Medb and the bull. He named me after her. He told me I would grow to be a woman like her, strong and fearless.”
I sat again in the chair, thankful that there was to be no recrimination. She closed the cabin door.
I kept my head bent over the book as I sensed her remove whatever garments she removed at night. I heard the lid being lifted off the commode and the unmistakable sounds of the captain relieving herself. Sebastian had said she was “one of us.” But it was apparent she did her most intimate toiletries here in her cabin. Not for her the rope swing with the well-placed hole.
She rummaged around on the long table and held up a key.
“I do not lock my door. There is not a man in my crew that would dare to come in here while I sleep. But ye might decide to go out and see if ye can find him. Ye knows who I mean. I will not have that.”
She turned the key then placed it under the roll of clothing she had at the head of her bed.
There was a creaking as she lay down. “Read girl! Read!” she ordered.
I began at the beginning. “How Conchobor was begotten,” I read.
“Ye can leave that out. Get to the part about Queen Medb and the bull.”
I leafed through the pages.
“She wanted the bull,” the captain said. “They wouldn’t sell it to her so she went to war to get it.”
“Aye,” I said, wondering if I should pay her full attention or continue to look for the chapters on the great warrior queen.
She fought for what she wanted, as I do. She fought and killed as I have done.” There was a silence. I did not move, awaiting her pleasure. She waved her hand. “I am too tired to listen tonight. Tomorrow night ye will continue. You will read to me when I summon ye. While ye be’s here,” she added. “It pleases me.”
“Aye, Captain.” I closed the book and put it back in its slot.
I would read. While I was here.
A half moon peered in through the porthole.
I climbed into the hammock, feeling the sway of the ship under me. I was wearied but my mind was active. I heard the lantern swing with the movement, saw its dull shine. I could smell the unguent on my legs but it had not eased their aching.
In her bed Captain Moriarity snored, little puffy snores.
I was close to sleep when I heard the smallest of sounds.
I sat up, almost tipping myself onto the floor, peering through the darkness. Moonlight touched the handle of the cabin door. It was turned gently, turned again.
Someone, not aware of the lock, was trying to get in.
I watched, fascinated, thoughts tumbling around in my head.
Was it an emergency, one of the crew needing to get to the captain?
No, because there was no calling of her name, no heavy knock.
Or could it be William? My heart leaped. William!
I swung out of the hammock and tiptoed to the door through the path of moonlight. “William?”
From the captain’s bed came the undisturbed snores, as even as breathing.
But there was no answer. The doorknob was still.
I stood, staring at the painted wood of it. There was a drawing of a cross in the center, a cross with a faded green circle round the top. A Celtic cross. I had seen drawings of it before. Protection, I thought. Or superstition?
All was quiet. Whoever had been outside was gone.