Page 5 of A Flash of Golden Fire

*

TheArrowwas anchored offshore. She was majestic and glorious, and contrasted many of the other vessels in the harbour. I’d expected her to be smaller. As I stood on the shore that morning, after a night sleeping under a bridge with a full belly and a destination, I couldn’t help being impressed at the size of her.

Her hull and rails were painted a bright, rich red with a stripe of yellow between the gun decks. Her masts were black and sturdy. Even in mid-repair, she was beautiful.

As I gazed, transfixed, at the ship that was to be my home for the foreseeable future, a man bumped into me from behind, and I scrambled for balance.

“Pardon me.”

The man was carrying a pile of rolled sailcloth and gazed at me with recognition. “Oy, you’re Simon White, ain’t you? The captain said to look out for you.”

“Aye.”

I was wary of the captain’s men, unsure if they wanted me aboard or would rather see me starve in Port Royal. But this fellow, with curly brown hair and a substantial beard, smiled warmly.

“Name’s Martinéz. She’s grand, isn’t she? TheArrow.”

“Aye.”

He lowered his voice. “Stolen from the British Navy.”

“Ah.” That made sense.

“Come on. I’ll take you to Donatello, who’ll have somethin’ for you to do.”

“Donatello?”

“Quartermaster. He runs things.”

“Oh. I thought that Captain Martin—”

Martinéz laughed. “Oh, he’s in charge, but Donatello does most of the hands-on work.”

“I see,” I said. “Does the captain have a connection to the British Navy?”

Martinéz gazed at me with respect. “Aye. He used to be an officer, but he got tired of the job. Wanted more of a free way of living, I suppose you could say.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“So he turned pirate.”

Martinez shook his head. “Oh, no, don’t call him that. He won’t like it, even if that’s what he is.” Martinez held up his hand. “Now, I don’t mind the term, myself. But he calls himself a privateer, e’en though he ain’t got a writ from any government. He’s a proud man, Captain Martin.”

We stared at each other for a moment whilst I tried to process what he’d said.

“Never mind. I’ll let him explain his thinking. Though you won’t see much of him, I expect. Donatello will probably have you working below decks until he finds out what you’re made of.”

Perhaps I was lucky that theArrowwas so large, as her substantial size meant they could always use an extra hand. I was determined to prove useful.

The crew had recently availed themselves of a trio of goats and five chickens, of which I was promptly put in charge by Donatello because, when asked, I admitted to some experience with animal husbandry. Unfortunately, that had largely involved cows and horses, but I’d figured I could extrapolate my knowledge to goats and chickens without too much of an issue.

I might have overestimated my skills and underestimated the challenge of keeping three goats entertained and in line in small quarters.

*

I’d hoped to be able to learn more about Captain Martin once I was aboard his ship. In fact, I didn’t get near him for weeks.

TheArrowpulled anchor and sailed out of Port Royal the day I boarded, and low winds meant we didn’t make huge gains for that first week. Even during the second and third week, the ship meandered among the islands in the southern Atlantic Ocean, minding her own business and steering clear of any encounters. She flew a Dutch flag as a decoy, so nobody dared approach us, and we minded our own business. I was relieved, although the rest of the crew grew bored with the situation. There was much work still to be done on board. The major repairs had been completed while at anchor, but there were countless minor tasks and maintenance work to be continued. The exciting and adventurous stories I’d heard of a pirate’s life had not materialized.

“Excuse me. Pardon me,” I stammered, pushing my way through the deckhands as they tried to swab the foredeck.