Secrets of the Realm (4 page)

"Aye, aye, Captain. Come along, Andrés."

"What is protocol?" Annie asked Christopher as they crossed the deck.

"Ship etiquette," he replied.

Annie knew what etiquette meant, but could not fathom how it applied on the Realm while she watched a Jack-tar spit tobacco juice over the rail. Another bare-chested sailor scratched his sweaty armpit.

"What kind of etiquette are you talking about?"

"No stealing, fighting or gambling." Christopher then whispered, "There are plenty of wagers made on just about everything on this ship, but you don't want the captain to catch you."

"What happens if he does?"

 "No one's been caught."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"The first mate is called Mr. Montgomery or sir. The bosun is Mr. Allan and Doc is Doc. The rest of the crew will let you know what to call them."

Annie tilted her neck back to watch a sailor scale the ratlines leading to the top of the mast.

"That's Baggott," Christopher said. "He's a good man, in his twenties. He came aboard with his best friend, Carter." He gestured toward a sailor who appeared to be working with the rigging. "Like the rest of us bosun mates, Baggott and Carter are mighty friendly. I cannot say the same for the gunners. Ready to do battle, they are, but you won't meet them. They live on the gun deck."

"What do you mean they live on the gun deck?"

"They eat and sleep down there. They are all top-notch, too. Have to be, since the captain refuses to sail in convoys under the Royal Navy's protection."

"Why not?"

"Captain Hawke trusts no one's authority but his own. Besides, it would slow the Realm down. He has a reputation to keep." Christopher stopped for a moment near the ship's bell. "What do you think of the captain?"

Annie ran her hand along the belfry. "He's…interesting. But I dare say, he keeps a messy cabin."

"I know," Christopher said. "I used to keep it tidy for him."

"Were you his cabin boy?"

"Aye, but I haven't been one since I became a full-fledged bosun mate about a couple months ago. That's why the captain needs a new cabin boy."

"I always thought cabin boys were much younger. That Lawrence chap was certainly no child. How old were you when you became his cabin boy?"

"Sixteen. I am eighteen now." Christopher smiled while his boots clicked unevenly on the deck. "It is no secret Captain Hawke doesn't want to deal with children."

"Why does he hire cabin boys at all?"

 "I don't know." Christopher chuckled. "But I can tell you this; the crew is mighty surprised Captain Hawke chose you."

"I guess I am just lucky." Annie smiled. "Finish showing me around, Christopher."

He pointed his finger. "The bow is the front of the ship."

Annie cut him off. "And the stern is the back. Starboard is the right side facing the bow and larboard is the left side." Annie reveled at the astonished look on Christopher's face.

He scratched his head. "Well I'll be. This isn't the first time you been on a ship, now is it?"

"A coble, my father's fishing boat. It even had a sail, a small one."

"Ah, so you're a fisherman's son."

Annie made exaggerated rowing movements with her arms. "Salt water in me veins. Quite exciting bringing in the day's catch, you know." Annie remembered how her father had taken her a handful of times on his boat when the sea was calm. She knew of no other girls allowed that privilege.

Christopher continued telling Annie the terminology she was not familiar with. "The bulkheads are what you call walls. The bulwark…"

Preoccupied with Christopher's dissertation, Annie didn't see the sailor swinging a mop handle at her legs. The quick blow to her shins pitched Annie forward. Her outstretched hands broke her fall, knees banging on the deck. Before she could get up, a wave of cold water splashed over her backside sending a spasmodic shiver through her body. Quickly rolling over, she found herself looking up at a short burly sailor glaring down on her.

"Look what you've done!" He snarled.

"What I've done?" Annie fired back.

In one hand, the sailor held an empty bucket. With the other hand, he poked a mop handle into her stomach. "Ye prissy little maggot, clean up this mess!"

Annie grabbed the handle, shoving the mop back at him, but the sailor pushed back with even greater force. Fearing he would impale her, Annie yielded. "I'll clean it up."

Once on her feet, Annie clutched the mop. Cursing under her breath, she furiously swabbed the deck until Mr. Montgomery marched up and grabbed the mop out of her hands. He tossed it back to the sailor.

"Mr. Symington, you're not being kind to Captain Hawke's cabin boy, now are you?" he said.

Symington shuffled his feet. "I was only 'aving fun with the little maggot. I meant no 'arm, sir."

"No harm done, Symington, but don't let it happen again. And for future reference, the boy's name is Andrés, not maggot."

"I will try to remember, sir, but me memories not like it used to be," he said as he thumped the side of his head with the mop handle.

"Go about your business, Symington."

Symington glowered at Annie as he ambled off.

Mr. Montgomery dismissed Christopher and led Annie out of earshot of the crew. "Stay out of Symington's way."

"He's not very friendly," Annie said.

"He doesn't have to be. Symington is the Realm's carpenter. He and his mates keep us afloat." Mr. Montgomery placed his hand on Annie's shoulder. "Another thing, lad, don't go crying to the captain. You will receive no sympathy from him."

"I don't cry, sir." She shrugged off his hand. "Never have, never will. It is a waste of time if you ask me. I don't tattle either."

"I think you are going to do just fine on the Realm. However…" Mr. Montgomery studied Annie from the top of her collar to the bottom of her soaking wet breeches. "You need some seafaring clothes, Andrés. Now, where did Christopher run off to?"

Annie pointed toward the bow of the ship where Christopher was polishing the ship's railing.

Mr. Montgomery tossed the lanky sailor a drawstring purse. "Since there is no time to make Andrés any clothes, see if you can find the boy some proper ones in town. Get him a sea bag as well. Any money left over, get something for yourself, but be prudent."

"Aye, Mr. Montgomery." Christopher turned to Annie. "Come along, Andrés."

CHAPTER SIX

While Annie walked alongside Christopher on the bustling London street, two sailors approached. She hoped her instincts were wrong, but the men looked like they were up to no good.

The two looked at each other, then separated. They quickly came up on either side of Annie and Christopher. Without so much as a how-do-you-do, one pushed Annie aside before both sailors bumped their shoulders into Christopher. Helplessly, Annie watched the youth plunge backwards.

"Watch where you're going, mate," the shorter of the two dark-eyed sailors said to Christopher lying on the ground.

The other one jumped on Christopher, pinning him to the ground. Christopher made no attempt to fight back while the sailor mussed up his hair with his knuckles. 

"What you looking at?" The sailor hollered when he saw Annie staring down on him.

The sailor's olive complexion was several shades darker than hers, his accent distinct, but from where, Annie wasn't certain. She looked at the sailor standing behind the one straddling Christopher. Brothers, she wondered as she looked at their black hair.

Panic rose in her chest. "Leave him be," she said. To her dismay, what she wanted to sound like an ultimatum came out more like a request.

The one not holding Christopher shoved his fist in her face. "What you goin' to do about it?" he asked.

The other let go of Christopher and joined his companion. They circled around their smaller prey. Grins erupted on each of their faces.

They blocked Annie's escape. One of them seized her shoulder whipping her around to face him. She balled her hand into a fist just as Christopher bounded to his feet.

"That is Andrés de la Cruz, mates," Christopher announced while he smoothed back his greasy blond hair. "He's Captain Hawke's new cabin boy."

The sailor holding Annie immediately let her go as both men backed off.

Christopher's composed manner puzzled Annie. "You know them?" she asked.

"Aye," Christopher said. "They're from the Realm."

The tattooed sailor extended his hand to her. "You're a little one, Andrés de la Cruz."

Annie had no intention of shaking his hand until Christopher told her it was okay.

"I'm Joao Perreira, but everyone calls me Perry. Rodrigues and I are two of the Portuguese aboard the Realm."

"So, you are Christopher's shipmates." Annie said. She wiggled her fingers trying to get feeling back after Perry's crushing handshake.

"We are your shipmates, too," he said as he eyed her up and down.

"Don't worry. I am getting Andrés some seaworthy clothes," Christopher said.

Perry smiled. "Bom—good!"

While the two sailors wandered off, Annie looked back just in time to see Rodrigues put Perry in a choke hold. Watching their tangled bodies wrestle on the edge of the road, she asked Christopher, "Do you like to fight?"

"I am not much of a fighter, but I know you are. I watched you on the wharf. We all did." He threw a fake punch at her.

Annie ducked and pointed to her black eye. "I'm really not much of a fighter."

*     *     *

Annie had no say in what was bought during her shopping expedition. Christopher held up a shirt or a pair of canvas trousers in the air. He would eyeball her and the clothes and decided if they would fit or not. Then Annie stuffed each item into her first purchase, a sea bag.

"Should I get some different shoes?"

"No, yours will do. Most sailors go barefoot, don't slip as bad on the deck," Christopher said while he tied a red scarf around his neck. He admired it and his new belt buckle in the reflection of a storefront window. "Change into your clothes, Andrés. You should return to the ship a sailor, not a landlubber."

"You want me to change…here?"

"No." He pointed to the alley. "There."

"You won't peek. Will you?"

"Peek? Why would I do that? I don't want to see your naked arse." Christopher said as he squared his shoulders and pulled out a knife. "I will guard the entrance from drunkards and thieves." He planted his feet firmly in an uneven stance. "Do I look threatening, Andrés?"

Except for his height, there was nothing threatening about Christopher, Annie thought. She managed to look quite serious when she answered, "Aye, you look mighty fierce."

She saw by his grin that her answer pleased him. But then again, she thought, everything seemed to please Christopher.

Annie couldn't wait to get out of her damp clothes. She pushed aside debris in the alley, making enough room in the filth for her and the sea bag. The overwhelming odor was worse than the alley she had spent the previous nights in. Holding her breath, she threw off her shirt and put on the new one. She did the same with the trousers which, to her disappointment, were a tad looser fitting than her cousin's had been. Nevertheless, she appreciated the freedom of the clothes, no confining corset or hem to catch a heel on.

Unable to hold her breath any longer, Annie sprinted from the alley. She laid the sea bag next to her and pulled her boots back on. When she was through, Annie paraded in front of Christopher, showing off a white and blue checked shirt. She then put on a warm fearnought jacket. Her trouser cuffs, rolled several times above her slim ankles, revealed thick grey stockings, and a knitted Monmouth cap covered her dark hair.

"Do I pass inspection, Mr. Christopher?"

"Aye, you're a fine looking tar, except…."

She crossed her arms over her chest wondering if she weren't flat enough. "Except for what?"

"How you walk."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't explain it, but it is kind of like…" He hesitated. "You kind of walk like a girl."

 "A girl, you say. And how exactly does a girl walk?"

"Something like this." Christopher demonstrated. His hips swayed from side to side in an awkward fashion while he fanned himself with one hand.

She burst into laughter. So did Christopher. Annie wasn't sure how she walked, but one thing for certain; she didn't walk like Christopher.

"Oh, please, I do not walk like that. But even if I did, then everyone had better get used to it. I am who I am. Nothing is going to change that."

"I know what you mean." Christopher looked down at his boots, one two sizes larger than the other.

Annie tried not to gawk and changed the subject. "No more of this silliness, Christopher." She hiked up her trousers. "I am eagar to return to the ship."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bundled in her fearnought jacket and red cap, Annie again hiked her trousers above her waist as she boarded the Realm. While she watched the sailors prepare for the next morning's departure, Christopher chatted on about what she could expect from her first day out at sea.

Fascinated with the sailors loading and securing casks and bales in the holds, Annie heard little of what Christopher said. 

She listened to the chorus of deep voices. "Together!" Using an assortment of pulleys, slings, and ropes, the sailors labored to the rhythm of their chanteys.

She turned to Christopher. "Were you saying something?"

His shoulders sagged. "Nothing important."

"Andrés," called Mr. Montgomery. "Vast improvement, lad." 

He then looked up into the cloudless sky. "And if there is any inclement weather this fine day, you most certainly are prepared. What is your opinion, Captain Hawke?"

Annie turned to the unhurried footsteps coming up behind her and snapped to attention.

Captain Hawke studied her over-sized clothes. "Hmm, are you hiding contraband under there?" 

His eyes then drifted from her jacket down to her stockings which were slowly disappearing under the rolled cuffs of her trousers.