Lions of the Sea

47

Castillano went up to the weather deck and approached the larboard bow. The rain was gone and the east wind was cold for that time of the year. He rested his good arm on the gunwale and lingered there for a long while, his eyes lost in the darkened sea, trying to calm down. Holy Mary, he wished he were far, far away from there. Safe from the Pearl of the Caribbean. But there he was, her prisoner. His life in her hands. He rubbed his eyes as to ignore the sigh that escaped his lips. So deep it made his wound hurt like back in the first days.

"You didn't kill Wan Claup."

He looked to his left and found the blond giant. He was his age, twenty-five tops, but a whole head taller. Castillano had noticed how close he was to the child, most likely her lover.

He tried to pretend he didn't understand, but the giant raised his eyebrows. "You do understand French, Castillano. I saw your face when the pearl spoke to the crew about you. So answer me. You didn't kill Wan Claup, right?"

Castillano shook his head. "No. It was my lieutenant."

Morris frowned. "The man that was with you on the bridge when we attacked the Lion last month?"

"No, not Luis." Castillano grimaced. He understood French far better than he spoke it. "My former lieutenant." He nodded to the helm. "Your pilot killed him a moment later."

"You should tell her."

"Tell her?" he repeated, not sure he'd gotten it right.

"Morris!"

They turned to see Maxó grabbing the wheel, that De Neill had just let go to hold Marina up. The girl rested her head on his shoulder, arms folded across her chest. Morris ran to the bridge.

From where he was, Castillano saw him hold the child. She stuck to him, covering her face with her hands.

"Harvey, Morris!" Marina cried against her friend's chest. "And Old Hans, and François—"

Morris held her tight, entwining his fingers in the raven hair, and kissed her forehead.

"And Bones says more will die before morning! It's all my fault! It's like I killed them myself!"

De Neill rested a hand on her shoulder, looking up at Morris. "No, pearl, you didn't kill them," he said. "All the way around. How many of us would be dead by now, if not for you?"

"My mate here speaks truth, pearl," Maxó said with his rough voice. "We're better prepared thanks to you, and you never risk a life that can be saved."

"We all chose to be here with you, Marina," Morris said in an affectionate tone. "And you're wrong to feel responsible for us. We're Brethren of the Coast, and that means free men."

"We bow to no one and we depend on no one," said De Neill, seeing Morris' words seemed to comfort the girl.

"Picture that! Not a year ago you still had me carry you on my back all over your garden!" said Maxó. "And now you want to tell me where and when I'm to drop my bones!"

Morris heard Marina's shaky giggle and winked at them.

"Come, come! Go fetch some rum for Uncle Maxó, that this cold wind is killing me."

Marina stepped away from Morris to wipe her face and tried to smile. "No way. If I can't boss you around, I won't help you get drunk."

"Jesus, pearl. You're never getting married like this."

The pirates laughed and she let out another shaky chuckle.

Past the mainmast, Castillano turned to the sea again, praying God to push the sun up the horizon so he could get away from there.

From her.

But there were still several hours left till sunrise.

Castillano waited for Marina and Morris to head back below deck and went to the cabin in no hurry. The two pirates at the helm were the only ones who didn't ignore him when he walked by them. They stared at him, more cautious than hostile. He pretended not to notice and went on toward the cabin.

And there was something bordering absurd about it. That being prisoner of the seadogs, he was about to sleep in that cabin, far more luxurious and comfortable that the very Admiral's.

In there he blew the lanterns off. In the soft glow coming in from the stern lamp, he took his boots off and lay down on the long seat under the window, covering himself with the blanket she'd given him earlier.

He would've never thought he'd be able to close his eyes in that situation, captive on a pirate ship, surrounded by half a hundred dogs. But his body didn't seem to agree.

However, he slept only for a couple of hours. A soft click woke him up in the dead of that endless night. He didn't move. He noticed the blanket had slipped and only covered his knees, but didn't dare to pick it up. He stayed as he was, lying on his good side, face to the table, his hand under the cushion he was using as a pillow. He saw Marina move around.

She'd opened the bulkhead and locked it as noiselessly as she could. She took her coat off and hung it from the back of a chair. Then she turned to close her corner with the canopy.

Castillano held his breath when she tiptoed closer to him. Had she changed her mind and was about to kill him in his sleep? Marina leaned forward by him and he kept his eyelids almost closed, so she wouldn't see he was awake. She didn't even look at him. She picked up the blanket, tucked him in with two quick moves and went back to her corner.

He felt the heat lashing his face up to his ears as Marina disappeared behind the canopy. He hated feeling ashamed, but that was how he felt. He'd thought she could murder him in such a sly way. And instead, she'd tucked him in so he could get a better rest. And she'd done it in such a natural way. Like it was the obvious thing to do. As if she'd found a sibling or a friend like that.

He heard her hang her hammock behind the canopy, still putting up the list of all the things he hated about the whole damned situation. And the list grew longer when he saw her empty boots slid under the canopy. And her hand showing to drop her shirt and trousers on top of her coat.

He forced his eyes away from the canopy as he heard her lie down on her hammock with an exhausted sigh. He'd never thought that knowing the black-eyed child naked only steps away from him would make him feel so awkward. To make things worse, it was so quiet in the cabin that he could hear her breathe.

He waited what felt like forever, until he was sure she was asleep. Then he lay on his back, the arm in the sling keeping the blanket in place and his good arm resting across his forehead. His eyes moved over the late stars showing behind the last clouds. Dawn was only a couple of hours away.