The Voyage of the Sea Wolf Read Online Free

“They’re here, the two of them. Captain’s orders, if ye see them touching or hear them conversing you are to disclose it to her. And ye’re to keep yer hands off the wench and yer remarks to yerselves. She is no plaything, brought on board for yer pleasure.”
    To me his words lacked conviction. I doubted if he would ever protect me should the need arise.
    I saw Skelly, who’d given us water in the longship, and Magruder, who’d been there, too. My eyes lingered for a second on Magruder and he made that obscene kissing sound that was more horrifying to me than the spoken threats.
    Right then I knew I would have to get a knife and keep it by me, awake or asleep.
    Walking the length of the deck with Mr. Forthinggale I got my first real look at the
Sea Wolf
. She was beautiful, all polished wood and small embellishments. A golden horseshoe was nailed to the main mast. A carved oaken board hung above the door to the bridge. On it were etched the words Bonne Chance, which I knew to be French for “good luck.” It had likely been on a pillagedFrench ship. The railings shone. They were scarred and battle wounded but still they gleamed. I thought they might be made of oak also. There was no roughness in this ship, no shoddiness. Loving hands had made her and she had been valued.
    Now she was under full sail, the wind making that brisk lapping sound as it spread the canvas. I heard the slap-snap of the flag, the lying English flag. The deck sloped, lifted itself, dropped with the motion of the ship so that I saw the whole sweep of sky and clouds and sea. The salt mist of spray filled my senses. If only this had been another time and another place, if this had been our ship, mine and William’s, and we were off on a new adventure...
    I reminded myself of what a miracle it was that he and I had been rescued from certain death and how fortunate that the ship had a woman captain. Had it been a man, he might have made a different judgment. She was a strange woman, but a woman. I sensed in her a mixture of lady and villain. But the way she had acted with William disturbed me greatly.
    I had a flash of something like jealousy, which I told myself was absurd. The captain must be at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age. It was possible that she found him handsome. Who would not? But to bejealous of her was foolish. I had enough to concern me.
    Mr. Forthinggale held up his hand for us to stop. He kicked the side of a battered wooden chest that was pushed against a bulwark then lifted the lid with the toe of his boot. The chest was half-filled with clothing and the smell that wafted up from it told me it had been a long time since anything in it had been washed. The foul odors of sweat, urine, and old, stale whiskey or rum overpowered the clean smell of the salt air. Bile rose in my throat.
    â€œFind what you need.” Forthinggale made a disgusted face as he lifted an old torn shirt with the point of his knife and dropped it back on top of the filthy jumble inside.
    â€œHere girl,” he said then. “These were Frenchy’s. He got tired o’ them. They’re high style and right for you.” He waved a pair of green satin pantaloons like a flag and held them out to me. One glance told me they were almost clean and untorn. I took them off the knife’s point and set them beside me.
    â€œFind yerselves some shirts. Never get any cheaper,” Forthinggale said with that high-pitched giggle that did not match his appearance.
    William rustled through the chest and brought out some clothing that looked usable. As he shook out a faded flowered shirt, rat droppings fell from it in a soft patter onthe deck. Mr. Forthinggale flattened them with his boot and ground them into the wood.
    â€œIs there a place to wash these things?” I asked him.
    He shrugged. “There’s a bucket below decks. Ye can draw up some water.”
    William examined a sweat-stained white