Voyage of Plunder Read Online Free PDF Page B

me. I sipped again and again. A sleepiness pressed upon me, a delicious sleepiness. I settled back in my chair, cradled my mug, and finally told my story.
    I started at the beginning, with Father's marriage to Faith and our sudden move to Jamaica. I told him about the attack, the murder, Faith's illness. Halfway through my story, I even unclasped my locket and showed him my mother's likeness and told him she was the daughter of the governor and that I was the governor's grandson and that both my grandfather and my mother had died long ago. I thought he'd want to know.
    He listened intently, rubbing his chin, occasionally saying, “I see,” or “‘Tis a shame,” or “Poor, poor lad,” or “Drink up, now.”
    As I talked, I could scarcely keep my eyes open. My tongue thickened. My words slurred together. “They've no idea I've escaped. If we surround them, they'll have nowhere to go come dawn. It will be over. Then the men who murdered my father will face the justice they deserve.”
    The embers snapped, sending a billow of sparks up the chimney. The man said nothing and leaned back into his chair, lost in shadow. I realized, with a heavy sleepiness, that I did not even know his name. But it did not matter. He would take care of everything now.
Besides,
I thought,
I am too sleepy. And my head is so heavy.…
    I heard the town crier cry, “One o'clock and all's well.” I heard movement behind me.
    My friend asking, “What took you so long?” A voice replying, “Did anyone see?” “None excepting the guard, and he'll say nothing.” A hand on my shoulder. “Come, Daniel, my boy. Tis time to leave.” A hand under my arm, urging me to my feet. Eyes of black swimming before me like pools of midnight.
So sleepy …

or days I huddled by the rail, wrapped in a blanket.
    For days nothing met my gaze except an endless ocean, an endless sky. All gray, everything gray.
    Of course, there was much movement around me on the fo'c'sle deck—with this many men aboard, it was impossible to be entirely alone. Men gambling, drinking, mending sails or tarring ropes if the mood struck them, playing fiddles, dancing, target shooting, or spinning raucous yarns. But I ignored the yarns, the music, the shooting, and the men. I only took the food that was offered me, shrugging off anyone who tried to pat my shoulder or talk to me.
    I dreamed of Boston. I dreamed of my father and the way things used to be. And always, when my eyes would clear of my dream, there would be the ocean. The endless, gray ocean.
    I cursed my life. I cursed Josiah Black. I cursed the man from Newport who had called himself my “friend.” Doubtless he had mixed some sleeping potion into my cider. I scarcely remembered Josiah rowing me back to the
Tempest Galley.
“Breathe not a word about what you've done,” he had whispered before I collapsed into a deep sleep.
    Much as I did not want to admit that Josiah was right about anything, I knew enough to stay silent. Josiah was the only one, it appeared, who knew what I'd done, or rather, what I'd intended to do. In fact, so certain had Josiah been of my intentions, he'd earlier arranged to have his friend on the dock, waiting for me. I knew if the pirates found out I'd meant to betray them, I'd not live to catch my next breath. So I huddled by the rail, wrapped in my blanket, staring at nothing, saying nothing, cursing my miserable life.
    One day as I cursed my miserable life, my memory regarding the
Norfolk
crawled back into my mind, spinning its spidery web, despite all my attempts to push it away. I remembered finding the
Norfolk's
manifest on the night my father had announced we were moving to Jamaica. I remembered showing it to my father. Him setting it aside, brushing away my questions, saying,
I'll take care of it later … Daniel, please. Not now.
    I wondered,
How on earth would my father have had the manifest in his possession, unless … unless …
    Strand by strand, I untangled the web until I could no