The Dagger X (The Dagger Chronicles) (20 page)

D
usk lay heavily over the jungle. Kitto and Van and Akin stood shoulder to shoulder in the huddle of men.

Sarah and Ontoquas stood a few steps off, Bucket in Sarah’s arms. Akin had broken the news to Sarah—that he and Duck had been separated, and that Duck had continued on toward Jamaica after being hidden in the
Blessed William
, accompanied by a naval frigate. Sarah’s frustration and worry grew so acute at this information that she found no other consolation but in holding the tiny baby. Bucket’s eyes were closed, but he rooted about with a beckoning mouth, and Sarah bent her pinky finger to let him suck on a knuckle. Bucket gummed her finger and went still.

“You are certain, Roger, that the barrels are well hidden?” Fowler raised his chin.

“They could walk right by them and not see, in broad daylight even.”

“And the winds, they will not blow the brush off?”

“I told you it was done, din’t I?”

“Ja, ja.”
X surveyed the faces around him. He felt
an odd surge of pride. “Then it is nearly time,
mes amis
. Tonight we take the ship, and if all goes well, we are sea dogs again by dawn.”

“Let’s hope the worms haven’t had their way with this one,” said Coop, a usually silent sailor with a tangle of teeth.

Kitto felt his stomach churn. It would be the second time he had taken part in a night raid of a ship at anchor. The first time was just a month ago in Cape Verde, when he had scaled the anchor cable of a ship in order to get on board and free Duck from slavery. Now again here he was. He and Van exchanged grim looks.

“You all right?” Van said. Kitto nodded.

“Butterflies.”

“Me too.”

“Akin, tell it again. I need to hear it again.”

“About Duck?” Akin asked. Sarah nodded.

The sun had set nearly an hour ago. The band of pirates had scattered among the undergrowth of the northeast end of the island, hidden in deep shadow. Each found a place to lay his head before the attack, excepting the three who stood guard in case Spider had been in a condition to inform Morris they were not alone on the island.

Sarah reclined against the trunk of a leaning palm tree, Bucket in the crook of her arm. Ontoquas sat beside her, pressed to her side, watching Bucket sleep in Sarah’s embrace. It occurred to Ontoquas that she
should feel resentful, or jealous. This
wompey,
she had nearly taken over the task of caring for her little brother Bucket. But Ontonquas realized she did not feel these things: only relief, and the recognition that she, too, wanted to be mothered.

Ontoquas leaned her head into Sarah’s shoulder, and Sarah unwound one hand from Bucket to run it lovingly over Ontoquas’s cheek. Kitto and Van lay at their feet, staring up at a sky that was faintly studded with stars.

Akin cleared his throat and spoke in his high-pitched and clear voice.

“We sailed ten days. Ten days after the attack. And that whole time Duck kept himself hidden! With Julius the monkey.”

“My monkey,” added Van proudly, a blade of grass pinched between his teeth. Akin wagged a finger.

“Maybe not your monkey! He loves that little boy.”

“Then I love that monkey. Go on.”

“We caught sight of a navy ship, a frigate. Morris sailed for it and hailed it. He wanted to get the prisoners onto the frigate.”

“Why? Why would he do that?” said Kitto.

Akin shrugged. “William Quick, he had told Morris what Morris needed to know.”

Kitto propped himself up on one elbow. “That part is hard for me to believe,” he said. “For seven years he kept it a secret. Why tell Morris now?”

Akin tucked his fingers into the dense curls of his hair. “After the battle was lost,” he said, “Captain
Quick was a changed man. It frightened me.”

“Was he wounded?” said Sarah. Akin shook his head vigorously.

“Perfect health. But like he was dead inside all the same.”

“He still had his mates,” Kitto said. “And his life. I would have thought his greed would have been strong enough to survive anything.” Van looked at him.

“Maybe he lost something in that battle closer to his heart than his greed,” Van said. Kitto knew what he meant. He stole a look at Sarah, and their eyes locked a moment, but then Sarah looked away and said nothing.

“Morris had what he needed,” Akin continued. “But with Quick on board, there was still a danger of escape. He wanted Quick on board the frigate. It was heading straight for Port Royal.”

“But Duck?” Sarah said. Akin nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Duck.” Akin scratched at the crow’s nest of hair atop his head. “I had just brought him some bacon—they had killed a hog two days before. Duck loves the bacon!

“He and Julius were in the barrel, quiet as mice. The
Blessed William
was to follow the frigate and head for Port Royal, while Morris’s ship turned into the wind and sailed here.”

Akin cast his eyes down. “I tried to stay with Duck, but I had volunteered to be cabin boy for Morris. I thought I could help Duck that way. And I had Morris fooled! He believed me. Too well, I fear. That day he had
me moved over to the
Port Royal
just before we left the other two ships.” Akin’s eyes darted to Sarah. “I am so sorry, madam.”

Sarah attempted an encouraging smile. “It is all right, son,” she said. “You did your best. It is more than any of us were able to do for him.” She blinked her eyes a few times to quell her tears and began to rock Bucket slowly.

Akin perked up. “He was very good in the barrel, Duck was! Very good. We had made it a game of how long he could be in there before I could hear him or Julius move around. At first they were not good at the game. But then they were better.”

“Hard to believe,” quipped Van. “Of Julius, I mean.”

“The monkey, he loves Duck. He never left the boy. Not ever,” Akin said. Van felt a lump in his throat. Good old Julius. He swallowed.

“I hope Julius keeps quiet too,” Van said. They all thought solemnly for a moment.

“How will he eat?” Sarah whispered. None of them had an answer for her. Ontoquas rubbed her hand along the woman’s arm.

Bucket and Van and Akin were able to sleep, but the others lay awake in edgy anticipation. They did not speak, but closed their eyes and waited for the signal.

Sometime well into nightfall Kitto sat up. He could hear someone thrashing through the underbrush, making no attempt to move stealthily. X swept aside the
wide leaves of a large tropical shrub to look down on them. His white and gold teeth flashed a grin in the moonlight.

“
Vous vous réveillez,
my little pigeons,” he whispered. He gave Van a lighthearted kick, and Van shot up from the ground with glazed eyes.

“Take hands, all of us,” Sarah said. She reached out and took Ontoquas’s hand. Ontoquas reached for Kitto. Kitto, in turn, looked up to Exquemelin, the hardened pirate. X rolled his eyes but took a knee and reached a hand out to Kitto and to Van. Akin made a space for himself between Van and the pinky toe of Bucket’s chubby foot.

It was dark. Kitto lowered his head and closed his eyes and spoke to himself during the silent prayer.

I have done this before, haven’t I? And alone, then. And I can do it again.

We shall succeed in getting to the
Port Royal
unobserved.
Kitto imagined a dark and lifeless ship, pictured himself and Van scaling up the anchor cable.
We climb up and lower lines for the others to follow. No one will hear us.
Despite his silent words, Kitto’s imagination ran from him a moment, and he saw in his mind a sailor on watch seeing them and calling out.

No! We will not be seen. And even if we are, then
 . . . He did not want to imagine that. It was too horrible.
If need be, then I can do it. I will do anything to see us safe again.

Kitto opened his eyes and turned to Sarah. Her eyes were squeezed tight and she gnawed her lip. He
wondered what she prayed for. Was it Duck? Bucket? Himself? All of them together? He took a deep breath and told himself once more that he would be brave.

“Let us go,” he said aloud. Sarah opened her eyes and nodded. Together they rose and made for the jolly boats that the pirates had dragged from hiding down onto the beach.

K
itto and Van and Ontoquas rode in the first boat with X and Quid and a handful of the other men, each crowded shoulder to shoulder, four men at the oars. The surf was light and the wind easy, and it had taken little effort to get the boats out into the rolling waves and make for the southeast end of the island. Kitto and Van each carried two loaded pistols in their belts, although they knew they could only be used as a last resort, as the idea was to take the ship without alerting Morris and the others on shore that the ship was under attack. Van also had Kitto’s dagger at his back. He needed it for the task he had volunteered to do. Ontoquas perched in the prow of the boat. A clutch of her crude arrows was tucked beneath her sash belt, and her bow leaned against her side.

“This must bring back memories,” Van whispered to Kitto, but before Kitto answered Quid grunted behind them and shook his head slowly. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

Kitto reached down to caress his stump. Quid had
fashioned him another wooden leg just that day from a tree branch and fastened it skillfully to a split coconut. It served the purpose, but it would be some time before Kitto’s wound had desensitized enough to make walking on the wooden leg painless.

He hoped they could take the ship without killing. His dreams still haunted him, dreams of the day in his father’s workshop when his entire world crashed around him, when he witnessed a murder and committed one himself.
Was it murder?
he wondered. He was defending himself, was he not? Did that matter? For that he had no answer. Surely in the eyes of the law he would be found guilty.

What about in the eyes of God?

It seemed like they had been rowing a long time before Kitto could look out and see they were about to round the narrow end of the island and begin their approach. Ontoquas saw it too, and she and Kitto locked eyes. To Kitto she did not seem afraid. He wished the same of himself. Perhaps Ontoquas had seen enough horror not to fear it any longer.

Kitto chanced a look backward, and between the two rows of men laboring at the oars behind him he could make out the other jolly boat, Sarah and Bucket a blanketed huddle in the stern.

It was not long before the boat was passing the entrance to the cave. It lay in deep shadow some hundred yards off. X would have liked to steer even wider, knowing that it would be a likely place for Morris to
leave a watchman, but any farther out and the jolly boats would be caught up in the wash of the reefs.

Van hunkered down and scanned the horizon. He tapped Kitto and pointed. Kitto could see nothing until he, too, leaned down to the line of the gunwales and could make out in the distance the silhouetted figure of the ship, a darker shade of black set against the faint glow of the horizon. Less than a half mile away it lay, swung out on the ebbing tide so that the he could make out each of its three bare masts.