Only Life That Mattered by Nelson James L

Author:Nelson, James L.
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590133323
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2004-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CALICO JACK RACKAM wanted to wipe his palm, but he was afraid.

He could feel the big sword slipping in his hand, he could not hold it securely with his sweating grip, but he was not sure what to do. What if they should see me wipe my palm? What would they think about that, eh? Fearsome Calico Jack’s palms are sweating, he is so damned afraid.

He looked aloft, like he was checking the set of the sails, then let his eyes move over the deck. The men were all at the rail, all looking outboard, and so he rested the point of his sword on the deck and wiped his hand quick on his coat, then readjusted his grip on the weapon.

This is stupid, this is bloody fucking stupid . . . it is only a damned brig, six men at the most.

Back when he had been just another of the pirate band, even when he had been Vane’s quartermaster, Jack’s fear encompassed only the possibility of physical injury. But it was different now, now that he had the responsibility he had once so craved. Now, along with concern for his bodily safety came the fear of possible failure, the anxiety of humiliation, the terror that his crew might grow restless and turn on him.

For the moment they were content—they had been lucky in their hunting—but how long would that last? Would this brig put up a fight? Would it prove to be a worthless prize?

They had spotted her that morning, the second sail in three days. Jack had woken, fully dressed and splayed along the locker, to the sound of “Sail, ho!” and an all but unbearable pain in his head. His memory was blotted by the rum-induced fog from the night before.

Anne had been there, dear Anne, with water and a dram of rum to ease his agony. When he was finally in a position to listen, Anne had gone over with him again the events of the evening, Mary’s gender, the fact that she, Anne, had known all along that Mary was a woman.

It was hard to imagine how the other brigands aboard the Pretty Anne would react to Mary’s secret, but it was possible, likely perhaps, that they would not react well. The women agreed it would be better if they did not know. Jack agreed to keep the secret.

“Yes, but see here, Annie,” Jack said, then paused. The pain in his head was insufferable, and he was afraid to speak what was on his mind. But it had to be said. “See here, I understand how you two are friends, but you’ve made it look like a damned sight more than just that. No, hear me . . .”

He held up his hand to ward off Anne’s protest. It was hard enough to say this; he did not want to be stopped once he was under way. “It does my authority no good for the men to think you’ve put horns on me. Don’t think there have not been mutterings; there have, I know it.

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