Scuttle (The Pirate King Series, Book 2)

Chapter 2: Insubordination

Quietly gathering the rest of his clothing, Cade ultimately leaves me alone.

Not having a reason to rush, I take my time in getting ready. After slipping into a relatively simple dress – it requires neither a bustle nor someone to help me put it on – I throw a few necessities into a carpetbag. I also tidy up before finally going out onto the deck.    

The crew is spending the morning the same way they've been for the last few weeks, but one thing is noticeably different. Although I'm used to seeing them running their various drills prepping the cannons or unfurling the sails while looking like common pirates, today they resemble proper sailors.

I knew they received official military uniforms matching the men in the British fleet, but this is the first time I've seen them wearing the attire. The outfits all share a common color scheme: white trousers and matching waistcoats, blue jackets, and black hats. However, the individual tailoring differs by rank.

The men with the lowest status – the mates consisting of able-bodied seamen, carpenters, and gunners – wear the most simplistic styles. The navigators, helmsman, and masters in their craft have longer jackets with shinier buttons, while those in command like Quartermaster Smythe even get fancy, gold threaded tricorns.

Nevertheless, the small, gray-haired man – who I've come to regard as a second father – doesn't appear to be impressed with the fashionable distinction. He keeps removing the heavy, felt hat to wipe his perspiring brows, and I'm sure he'd rather trade it for his well-worn, red cap.

This scene would usually make me smile, but there's no joy in my heart right now. The worry isn't for myself. I'm confident I'll be back on board in a day or two at the most, but I'm just as sure some of these men won't be alive by then. Who'll be the unlucky ones, only God knows; so I've decided that for the next few hours I'm going to spend time with each and every one of them. It may very well be the last chance I'll have to do so.

There's no true method to my actions, but I try to catch the men when they're on brief breaks or otherwise not preoccupied with their work. Luckily, they each have their own anecdotes or just overall feelings they're happy to share.

The gunners – including Cox and Winchell – are the most upbeat, spurred on from the prospect of a good fight. None have any doubts about Captain Kincade's leadership and are all ready and willing to follow him to victory. Sailing Master Till, on the other hand, wipes the glass in his spectacles absent-mindedly with his kerchief as he recalls a battle with the elder Pirate King. That incursion led to major casualties, including the death of his own son, and isn't something he'd like to relive again today.

When the sun is almost at its highest point in the sky, the sails on the Phoenix are raised, and the ship begins to slow. The other vessels around us follow the same pattern, readying to stop for the mid-day rendezvous. There isn't much time left now.

Heading toward the stern, I run into Sam – literally when he jumps into my path down from the main mast – and follow him into the galley. He takes an early lunch and in the company of Jonas, the cook, tells me about the months he spent in America before becoming a pirate. Afterwards, I briefly join Taylor at the helm. He confides in me that he'd rather be anywhere else right now than on board the Phoenix Rising, but that won't affect his service.

Hours into my endeavor, I'm emotionally exhausted, but not quite done. Gazing at the ocean over the bow, I've just finished chatting with Butler when Femi's billowing baritone voice rings out. "All hands on deck!"

Everyone drops what they're doing and scurries to assemble in two, neat lines at the foot of the quarterdeck. My attire doesn't allow for such rushed movements, so I casually stroll to my place near the end of the front row. Looking up at the platform above, we watch as Captain Kincade emerges from the navigation room and joins the large, African man.