Page 37 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“Until he takes a shit,” Martinez said.

“Well, all right. I was only trying to comfort the man,” Hillier muttered, clearly wanting to be somewhere else.

I thought about what Hillier had said, and in a way he was right. I’d loved that fat little chook, but now she was gone, and a part of her would be with me always, in an intimate, spiritual way.

“Thank you, Hillier. You’ve eased my mind.”

“Glad I could help, White.”

I looked at the other chickens. “Are they all going to be eaten?”

He shrugged. “Probably. They haven’t been laying all that well.”

I’d known that. I’d thought that if I named them and sang to them in the mornings and at bedtime, they’d do better. But they hadn’t.

“All right, then. I’ve done all I can for you,” I said to the chickens and the goats. “But I’m moving up in the world, and I can’t worry about you lot anymore.” A harsh truth, but I needed to tell it. They might as well know.

And truth be told, Guinevere had been fucking delicious before I’d been made aware of the situation.

I went to the section of the hold where my hammock swung near a porthole and grabbed my boots and the razor I had stolen, wrapped in a worn piece of leather. Apart from my knife, and the new clothes on my back, I carried all that I possessed in the world.

I gazed with nostalgia at the lowly corner in which I’d been living for the past few weeks. Then I inhaled the scent of a hundred men sweating and belching and farting, and bid the place a good riddance.

“Don’t forget about us, White,” Martinez muttered as I passed by.

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” I promised.

I felt like the crew were silently judging me for trading my body for a better place to sleep, but which of them wouldn’t have done so if their proclivities had lain in that direction and the captain had offered? It sounded as if more than one had, albeit temporarily. I couldn’t explain that I felt more than a physical pull toward the captain.

Perhaps I was deluding myself, and hewasjust using me as a bed warmer and a housekeeper, and when he got bored of me or no longer found me useful or desirable, I’d be tossed aside. But I could enjoy myself in the meantime, learn how to be a privateer, take advantage of the comfort and privileges my place would afford me, and attempt to prove myself indispensable to him so that he wouldn’t dismiss me. I had charm, vigor, a relentless appetite for activities between the sheets—and elsewhere—and a way of ingratiating myself to the men I admired. I had a feeling that at least in some way the captain and I were evenly matched.

I returned to the deck, noticing some men glancing my way and speaking to each other in hushed whispers. I glared at them and made kissing noises, and they turned away. Then a looming shadow blocked my path.

I looked up.

Hanes, a giant of a man with bulging muscles and horrible teeth, stared at me with disdain.

“You Captain Martin’s whore now?” he sneered.

“He ain’t paying me, although he is fucking me, and quite well, I might add. He won’t take kindly to anyone laying a finger to me, I’ll tell you that. So, bugger off.”

I wasn’t afraid of Hanes, even though he could probably squash me with one finger. I was under the captain’s protection now, and they all knew of the circumstance.

Hanes looked me up and down, as if he wanted a turn. Then he smiled.

“Does Captain Martin know he’s invited a hellcat into his bed, I wonder?” Hanes said, gazing at me with some level of admiration.

I blinked. “Get out of my way, Hanes. I’ve an urgent appointment with a feather duster.”

Hanes’s eyes went wide. “A feather duster! Jesus. I’ve not heard that one before. He does get up to some strange things, our captain.”

“Not for that, you idiot. For dusting. I need to clean the captain’s cabin.” I waved a hand in the air. “It’s a part of my new job. The boring part.”

“I thought hewasn’tpaying you.”

“He’s letting me stay with him if I clean and manage his rooms and…take care of other sundry…things.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hanes said, nodding. “I’m sure it’s none of my business.”