Part 11

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Eleven

The following morning, William seemed intent on showing me how to move furniture. "While I'm gone, you keep this door shut and push the locker in front of it. Wedge it against the bunk like this if you can." He moved the locker so that it was jammed between the door and the bunk, trapping us inside. As afternoon approached, he seemed more and more worried and he stopped speaking. Instead, he balled his hands into fists and punched the air at an imaginary opponent – first on one side of him, then the other. After the verbal altercation yesterday, he seemed to be preparing for a fight with the two men. I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He didn't eat a bite at lunch. He just stared at me, grinding his teeth against each other in the absence of food, until I'd finished eating. Then, without saying a word, he took my arm and marched me back to our cabin.

"As soon as I'm gone, I want you to barricade this door. Don't let anyone in. Do you understand me?"

I looked into his worried eyes and nodded, hoping that was the response he required. I wished I understood.

This seemed to satisfy him. He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. "Don't worry, lass. I won't lose and I'll be back. The crew will leave you alone after I deal with these two. Just don't let anyone in until I come back."

My forehead still felt warm from his touch as I watched him hurry out of the cabin, clanging the door shut behind him.

I looked at the locker on the floor by the door and sighed. I started hauling it back to its place beneath the porthole, wishing I knew why William had wanted me to imprison myself alone in this tiny room.

I gave the locker one last shove and heard frenzied hammering on the cabin door. The door flew open and Charlie burst in, breathless and flushed. "Miss! Maria! It's time. Come quickly!" He grabbed my arm and tugged.

Mystified, I allowed the excited boy to pull me down the corridor and up the ladder to the main deck.

"It's Mr McGregor! He's fighting for your honour, like some sort of knight in a fairy tale!" He led me to the stern, down another ladder to where crates and barrels were stacked.

I heard the rumble of voices and the smack of flesh on flesh before I saw them, but I knew what I'd find. William hadn't been dreading trouble – he'd made an appointment with it. We rounded a stack of barrels and I almost bumped into two men who were waving their fists in the air, urging someone on.

Charlie pushed and jumped, but he couldn't push through the milling crowd which looked like it consisted of the majority of the crew. He looked around and pointed. "The mast, miss. We'll have a good view from the mast. Do you think you can climb a rope ladder? I can help you if you want." He hurried to the mast and gestured. "You go first, miss. I'll climb below you so I can catch you if you fall."

The tarred hemp was rough and sticky beneath my hands and feet, swaying in the stiff breeze, but I clambered up the rope ladder quickly, curling my toes around the beam at the top as I hugged the mast for support. I could see the combatants now and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Stripped down to their trousers, both men circled each other in the clear patch of deck that was marked off by a rope draped around barrels and crates, creating a rough ring. The rest of the crew crowded around the rope fence, pumping their fists and shouting insults or encouragement – it was hard to tell which, or who it was directed at. The sound was angry and primal.

One man's fist cracked against the other's chin, followed by his other fist smashing the man's nose. Blood spurted, streaming down the man's face and onto his bare chest.

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