Page 12

Squid

I stuck close to Captain Martin, as I’d been instructed. He put Guthrie in charge of the intensive looting, and he and I wandered the deck as he pointed out differences between the Lantern and the Arrow , both in size and the amount of battle readiness. There were fresh gouges in the wood of the deck and scorch marks in various places. One of the deck rails had been broken in half in a previous encounter. The Lantern and its crew had seen better days.

A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn.

Standing before me was the long-haired person with the face tattoos that I’d seen in the spyglass.

“Hello,” I said, my gaze assessing them from a closer angle. They looked even more intriguing from this distance.

“Hello. Officer White?”

“Yes.”

“And this is Captain Martin? Of the Arrow ?”

“Aye, that’s him.”

“Can I help you?” Captain Martin asked.

The young fellow—for he looked no older than I—glanced back and forth between us before answering.

“I’m hoping you can, sir. My name is Squid.”

“Squid?” Captain Martin repeated as I became even more fascinated.

He gestured vaguely at his face. “Because of the ink. And—” He gestured to the rest of himself. “—my shape.”

“Ah, well I’m pleased to meet you, Squid,” Captain Martin said.

Squid nodded, his fine eyebrows knitting together. He pushed a stray piece of hair off of his face. Squid looked as mysterious as his name. I couldn’t pin down his nationality or his sex, in all honesty, although he was dressed like any fellow might be.

“And I, you,” he said. “I was wondering if I might…have a place aboard your ship.”

Captain Martin assessed him calmly. “And why should I bring you aboard the Arrow , Squid?”

“I’m strong. And skilled. And I want off this stinking pile of timber,” Squid spat, eyeing the crew of the Lantern who’d gathered at the stern with expressions of displeasure.

“I need more of a reason.”

“The Arrow is a much finer vessel than the Lantern ,” Squid murmured, glancing at our ship and then gazing at Captain Martin with a look of assessment. “And you are more of a man than any of us.”

The captain preened under Squid’s appraisal, and I rolled my eyes. Even though Squid struck me as an interesting fellow, I wasn’t sure I wanted him on our ship.

I watched Captain Martin, half expecting him to laugh at this obvious manipulation.

“Convince me,” he said.

Squid’s fine eyebrows slanted. “I know how to do most anything, Captain. And I’m prepared to work where you want me.”

“Why should I add to my already large crew just because you want to leave yours? How do I know you won’t abandon us at the earliest opportunity?”

Squid appeared confused. “I’m prepared to give back what I’m given.”

“Meaning…”

“If I’m given respect, I’ll give respect. If I’m afforded courtesies, I’ll return them. That’s all.”

Captain Martin nodded as if this was enough.

“If you’re near the ladder when we debark, you can join us. But I’m not going to look for you.”

“Yes, Captain. Thank you,” Squid said, content.

I gaped at him. “But, Captain…”

“Yes, White?”

My gaze followed Squid as he strode off, presumably to go wait by the ladder.

“We don’t know anything about this man. He could be a murderer!”

The captain stared at me, then tipped back his head and laughed and laughed.

“My God. No.” He straightened and gave me the most endearing look, as if he couldn’t believe how cute I was. “Technically, I’m a murderer, Simon. And Guthrie. And…most of them,” He gestured to the crew members who were lugging things out of the Lantern’s hold. “As I recall, you, yourself, are responsible for the deaths of an entire ship.”

I’d forgotten about that. I could hardly believe he’d throw that in my face.

“Yes, but…I was protecting you .”

“I realize that. Men have many reasons for the killing they do,” he explained.

“What I mean is what if Squid isn’t like the rest of us?”

He looked at me strangely.

“In what way?”

“What if he’s not a good person? Sure, the crew have shadowed pasts, but at heart most of them are decent. We don’t know anything about this Squid person. And what kind of a name is Squid anyway?”

“What kind of a name is Simon?” he countered.

I gasped. “Simon is a bloody respectable and historical name, thank you very much. Squid is a…slimy and mysterious creature from the depths!”

The captain’s amusement grew.

“What are you scared of? He looks all right to me. I have an affinity for unusual people. I do like to collect them.” He eyed me up and down as if I were a piece of pottery on his shelf. I didn’t hate his manner, but he was very distracting.

“Fine. Do what you want. But I don’t like him.”

“Noted.”

“Humph.”

“Oh, you are lovely when you’re disgruntled. Like a prickly little pear.”

How he could deliver an insult, combined with a complement, like he was telling me to pull down my drawers… Goddamn it .

I wanted to be angry. I was extremely offended by the prickly pear comparison. But he had also called me lovely, and right now he was looking at me like he wanted to rip off my breeches and bend me over the gunwale.

“I’m not… I’m not angry,” I said. “I just don’t know about Squid.”

Captain Martin shrugged. “Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

We gazed along the rail to where the crew were hoisting belongings acquired from the Lantern down to waiting boats.

Squid had positioned himself at the top of the ladder, waiting for us.

*

B ack on the Arrow with a number of items recovered from the Lantern , including one strange and contrary fellow named, ostensibly, Squid, we tried to satisfy the crew who were a little disappointed in the lack of blood spillage.

“Didn’t even get to chop off a bloody arm! I thought we were pirates, not a band of sorry labourers.” One fellow grouched.

“Privateers, you mean.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Another man sighed. “Didn’t have to take out my sword once. Not once!”

So much for allaying the crew’s need for battle and blood. The Lantern had put up so little resistance, the matter had been like taking purchases from a store, without having to give over any gold. Satisfying on some level, but missing the visceral release of a hand-to-hand fight.

“Now, now,” Captain Martin tried to assuage them. “I’m very pleased with how you all managed that. To think, your capabilities as negotiators and facilitators are growing by leaps and bounds. I’m quite impressed.”

The crew blinked up at Captain Martin, half of them not even sure what those words meant. But they saw the admiration in Captain Martin’s eyes, and the respect in his tone of voice, and responded to those honest words.

“Well, of course, yes, we could have chopped off a few arms. But in the end, we didn’t need to, I suppose.”

“Exactly,” Captain Martin affirmed. “But they knew you were ready to do so and wouldn’t hesitate. That, my friends, is called the power of intimidation. And it’s a much more efficient way of doing business.”

“Humph. Business. Are we businessmen, now? Not even privateers?” someone asked.

“We were always businessmen,” Captain Martin said. “In the business of thievery and mischief.”

There were chuckles. Someone added, “And other sordid activities,” with a glance at me.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I didn’t know we were collecting strays,” Martinéz muttered, motioning toward Squid, who lurked by the rail, watching everything and looking unsure about where they should be or go, or whether they’d made the right decision to come over to the Arrow . And in that vulnerability, I saw myself from a few weeks ago, and my heart softened toward him.

“That’s Squid,” I said, loudly, so the person in question could hear me. “He’ll be an asset to the Arrow .”

I met Captain Martin’s surprised but pleased gaze across the deck, and he smiled and nodded.

“Yes, indeed. Squid is a member of this crew now and is to be treated as such,” he said.

Squid scowled and shook his head as if embarrassed to be talked of. But he raised his chin. “I’ll prove myself. Don’t worry.”

Martinéz snorted. “It’s you should worry, if you don’t.”

Lahiri put a hand on Martinéz’s arm. “Leave him alone. We were all strays at one point.”

This was probably true and a good reminder to the crew.

Lahiri stepped forward and offered his hand to Squid.

“Welcome aboard. We’re glad to have you.”

Squid looked surprised, but he took Lahiri’s hand.

“Thank you.”

“I’m Lahiri. And this miserable bugger is Martinéz.”

Lahiri beckoned to Martinez. Martinéz rolled his eyes and came forward and welcomed Squid, as well.

I exchanged a look with the captain, as the rest of the crew all came forward to welcome the new crew member.

“Hillier, how much did we get? Anything of real value?” Captain Martin asked.

“Aye, Captain. Quite a bit, actually. The rascal wasn’t being entirely honest about his hold being empty, it turns out.”

“Mmm. I suspected as much.” The captain gazed over the rail at the Lantern , which was limping away on the wind, its tattered sails barely affording the vessel enough push to proceed.

I wondered what would become of it.

“Put Squid in charge of the livestock, Hillier. We’ll see how he does with that.”

I looked at Squid, who appeared even more perplexed as the last of the crew shook his hand and went back to their tasks.

“Actually, Rooster, why don’t you take Squid down to where they’re kept. You can introduce him to the chooks by name, in fact.” Captain Martin frowned. “Hold on. Did you name the goats too?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, I did. How would they feel if I only named the chooks?”

Honestly, sometimes I despaired of Captain Martin’s basic levels of decency.

He smiled at me as if I were his personal source of amusement. Which I suppose I was when it came down to the matter. I winked at the captain, making a lewd gesture with my tongue, before striding over to the strange-looking, tattooed man.

“Oy, then. Come on. I’ll take you to the menagerie.”

I wondered if minding the livestock was the default job for any new crew member.

“Rooster?” Squid asked with raised eyebrows.

I realized the captain had used his nickname for me. I gestured at my mop of red hair.

“You know. The hair?”

“Ah.” If Squid had any questions as to why Captain Martin would use such a casual and affectionate name for me, he didn’t voice them.

“Follow me,” I said with a level of cheer that reflected my relief that there hadn’t been any violent altercations, I’d been treated as an officer for at least a little while, and the men appeared satisfied with our easy take.

The crew carted the goods through to the captain’s hold, where the entire take would be divided by share, with the extra ten per cent the captain had promised given to the crew. Hillier was in charge of this—the duty used to fall to Donatello.

I still felt a level of guilt about Donatello. Maybe if he’d been as dear to me as Captain Martin, I’d have been able to keep him safe. But then I recalled that Donatello’s murder had caused the flame to rise in me, so perhaps I should think of his death as Donatello’s final act—to be the sacrifice that helped me to save our captain and the rest of our crew.

I led Squid down to where the menagerie was kept.

“Mr White, are you actually the captain’s ‘right-hand man’?” Squid asked as we descended the narrow steps into the hull.

“Well,” I said, “if you consider what most men do with their right hands, that’s as good a title as any.”

Squid uttered a laugh as we descended.

“I suspected,” he said.

“That the captain likes to tumble me?” I grinned and winked, figuring I might as well find out now if Squid had any issues with oversharing, or the act of sodomy.

“It’s rather obvious, ain’t it?” he said, unaffected.

“Why? Do I walk strangely? Seeing as the captain’s got a rapier the size of a torpedo, it’s entirely possible.”

“No, it’s not the way you walk.”

I stopped and turned. “What gives it away, then?”

“The way he looks at you.”

“Like he wants to bend me over the rail and have his way?”

“Well, no. At least, that’s not the impression I got when you came aboard the Lantern .”

“Oh?”

Squid shrugged. “I figure he was keeping an eye on you to keep you safe. Because he holds you in high esteem.”

I snorted. “I don’t know about that.”

Inwardly, I was beaming. Perhaps the captain really did care more for me than I’d imagined? I wasn’t sure that was quite possible, seeing as I was nothing but a good fuck and a man of questionable and uncontrollable powers. I was a freak of nature with a talent for cocksucking and that was about all. I hoped Squid would have more luck managing the goats than I had.

“Here they are then,” I said, when we had located the spot where the animals were kept. I’d seen the fellow who had been in charge of them on deck helping with the loot, and I imagined he’d already been told of his switch in duties. “You want me to tell you their names?”

Squid looked at the chickens, at the goats, and then at me.

“Names?”

“Why is everyone so surprised they have names?” I said, reaching into the pen and pulling Elizabeth into my arms. “This is Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth. Really.” He didn’t sound impressed.

“Oh, fuck off. You’re in charge now. I suppose you can name them what you like.”

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. Do go on. I’d like to hear their names.”

I eyed Squid carefully to see if he was putting me on for his own amusement, but he appeared sincere.

“This one is Henrietta. And this is Gertrude,” I told him, pointing to the chickens, who evinced health and happiness, at least. And all present and accounted for as well.

He had put his hand over his mouth but looked to be paying attention.

“Unfortunately, we lost one to…” I cleared my throat, “A delicious dinner. Her name was Guinevere, may she rest in peace.”

I crossed myself and blinked back a tear.

There was a strange noise that sounded like a sneeze but that I realized was Squid giving a stifled laugh that had mostly come through his nose. He dropped his hand and broke out chortling in earnest now, and I thought that a bit too much, actually. A chortle, sure. A laugh, I’d accept. But he was enjoying the story far too much. He put a hand on the corner of the wooden pen to support himself as the chickens clucked in a disapproval that mirrored my own.

“Hmm,” I said, regarding him with distaste. “For a fellow named Squid, you’ve got a lot of cheek laughing at the names of my chickens.”

I put Elizabeth down and picked up Henrietta. “I shan’t tell you their names. Not if you’re going to laugh at them.”

Squid shook his head and tried to rein in his hilarity. “I’m not… I’m not laughing at the…chickens,” he sputtered. “I’m laughing at you , Officer White.”

He proceeded to clutch at his chest as he gasped for breath and laughed harder.

“Or should I say, Rooster?”

I glared at the man.

“Perhaps you should say goodbye,” I said. “If the captain heard you making fun of me in this way, he’d turf you over the side.”

I wasn’t entirely sure that was true. He might just join in.

Squid sobered at that and reached out to me. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I promise to address you as Officer White henceforth. Please don’t send me back to the Lantern …”

“I shall try to be the better man.”

“It’s only,” Squid said, with a hint of emotion, “that’s the first time I’ve laughed in—” He looked down at his hand and counted his fingers. “—one, two, three years.”

I gaped at him. “You haven’t laughed in three years? That’s terrible.”

“Yes. It has been.”

My attitude immediately softened.

“I would… I would love to hold…Elizabeth…if I may?” he said.

“Of course.”

I introduced Squid to every one of those chickens and then to the goats, explaining how troublesome the goats were compared to the chickens. As if to prove my point, when I opened the gate to the goat pen, one of the mad creatures pushed past between me and Squid, bawling and scrambling across the hold as if escaping certain death.

“Oh fuck!” I said, shutting the gate and taking off after the errant creature, followed by the sound of Squid’s scuffing boots as he joined me in the chase. “Fuck, he’s going up on deck,” I exclaimed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Squid’s laughter behind me indicated that he was not upset about this development in the least.

The goat—Lilith, of course—ran up the narrow steps past two crew members who cursed and threw me annoyed glares.

“Jesus Christ, White, get your fucking animal!”

“She ain’t mine,” I protested, running up the steps, closely followed by Squid who said, “Excuse me, excuse me,” so many times I began to see the amusement in this ridiculous escapade.

As we followed the goat up on deck, I caught Captain Martin’s annoyed look when he saw her. But before I could apologize or tell him to get off my fucking back, Squid shoved me aside and launched himself like a torpedo after Lilith.

I struggled to keep my balance and braced my hands on my thighs, breathing hard from all the running, and watched Squid go. Unbelievably, as Lilith was quite fast when she was on the run, Squid managed to get past her and cut her off just as she was heading for the steps up to the forecastle.

“Ho!” Squid yelled, then dove for the animal, who skidded on the slick boards as she tried to avoid him. They crashed to the deck in a cacophony of noises—Squid’s grunts of exertion and, no doubt, pain, and the goat’s squeals of astonishment.

Lilith brayed and moaned as if she were being murdered. Squid yelled for some rope. One of the crew threw him a length, and he soon had her captured. How he kept himself from strangling the damned thing, I’ll never know.

A round of applause greeted Squid’s prowess as he stood there regarding me in triumph, holding the end of the rope while Lilith pulled to get away again. She bleated helplessly and then quieted.

The captain and I exchanged a glance. He appeared as surprised as I at Squid’s talents.

“Take the goat back down, Squid,” Captain Martin said. “And thank you for taking charge of her.”

“Aye, Captain,” Squid said. “You’re welcome. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get loose again.”

He tugged on the rope, and Lilith followed him obediently.

“White. Come with me,” the captain ordered.

Four words I had never been more thrilled to hear.