“On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.”
Plum raised his head, and Hawk noticed his eyes weren’t really brown, but the color of warm honey. As Hawk read on, pitching his voice alternately lower and higher for the different characters, Plum listened avidly, a small smile curving his pretty lips.
Chapter Nine
Gazing over the assembled men, Hawk stood tall, his wound only throbbing dully now, hardly anything at all. After three days in his cabin reading Shakespeare, Cervantes, and Marlowe aloud while Plum listened, seemingly content, it was time to resume his duties. He’d made the odd appearance up on deck so the men didn’t suspect, and now his leg was fit enough that he barely limped.
“We’re docking at Nassau.” As a cheer rang up, he raised his hand. “Only for the day to trade our cargo and resupply. We are all strictly on duty. No drinking. No whoring.” Now a grumble vibrated across the deck. “I assure you, I will provide you with all the rum you can drink tonight when we are back aboard and safely tucked away in a cove down the coast. Not just swill either—the finest in the West Indies.”
A voice whined, “Can’t we get the girls to come down to the docks, at least? We won’t say nothin’, we swear.”
Hawk bit back a sigh. “You know damn well that those ladies are adept at ferreting out information that could be useful to sell to another crew.”
More grumbling, and O’Connell, an Irishman rigger who’d proven himself sensible and brave, said, “The captain’s right. No sense in risking our ransom for a few minutes of pleasure.”
Another man piped up, “Speak for yourself! I last a damn sight longer.”
There was laughter then, the current of resentment dissipating. Hawk gazed at them intently. “We need to stay sharp. No one is to breathe a word about our hostage to anyone. No exceptions. Not a drop of alcohol, and if you dare to darken Mrs. Atherton’s door to visit her girls, you will lose your share of the ransom. Understood?”
Snell called out, “Aye, Captain,” and the others joined in, some more reluctantly than others.
Hawk smiled. “It will be worth the short-term sacrifice in the end, I promise you. Let’s keep our heads on and eyes on the prize!”
This roused a cheer, and he dismissed the men, turning to the bow. Snell joined him, saying, “That rum had better be exquisite, or they’ll take a vote on a new captain.”
Hawk chuckled at the joke, ignoring a slither of unease. He’d kept control by being firm yet fair, but many a pirate captain had been bested by mutiny. In another fortnight, they’d have their prize and see that the sacrifices had been worth it. “It will be Nassau’s finest.”
“So piss, then. But they’ll guzzle it nonetheless.” Snell squinted up at the sky. “Clouds coming in from the north. Better find a safe harbor tonight close to Nassau. Pearl Cove, perhaps?”
“Aye.”
“Who will watch the prisoner while we go ashore?”
A strange pang of guilt squirmed in his gut. It would be torture for Plum to be so close and unable to get solid land under his feet. “I’ll keep him locked in. Put…Grady on guard duty. He’s trustworthy. Yes?”
“Yes. And you should relax. I can handle the trade. Perhaps you should find an arse to give a good fucking.”
“Maybe I will.” It had been ages and would do him good.
Some of the men on board had each other, and in Nassau, no one gave a damn who fucked who. In the pirate world, men could be as good as married if they chose. Some even wore each other’s rings and contracted together in matelotage.
“That’s the spirit.” Snell clapped him on the shoulder and left him in peace.
Hawk knew it likely mystified Snell and the others that he didn’t bugger anyone on board. But he’d decided years ago that he’d rather his prick didn’t fall off from some rotting disease and that his own hand was sufficient.
He’d been tempted at times to take up bold young men on offers of willing mouths or arses but had instituted a rule against ever screwing a crew member. It only bred competition and hostility. Better to hold himself removed. Untouchable.
It hadn’t even been that difficult. The last time he’d experienced the fever of true desire, he’d been little more than a boy, spending nights in a hammock with John in the stinking, black belly of the HMS Leaside.
He allowed himself a moment to remember John’s impish grin and cowlick of fair hair falling over his forehead, the breathless intensity with which they’d kissed and touched, each exploration new and thrilling, young enough that no one paid any mind to them sharing a hammock.
The memory gave way, as it always did, to flashes of cannon fire, Spaniards upon them in the dawn. It had been a bloody, hard-won battle to escape the man-of-war. Hawk could still hear the quartermaster’s relief as he said, “Could have been worse. Most of us are still here.”