“Oh, real battles,” he said, chuckling. “I suppose next you’ll be wanting us to fight with honor, all lined up like redcoats.”
“I just wondered what it was like,” she said.
“It’s a lot of fire and a lot of smoke. It’s nothing,” he said. His smile was bright as ever, but he looked away, hiding a troubled gaze.
They didn’t have any battles over the next few days, and they avoided any other encounters. Once or twice the crew on watch shouted out, identifying another ship within view. Usually the other ship was far distant, hard to see, little more than an incongruous shape against the waves. Captain Cooper or Abe would look through the spyglass and call out colors, the patterns of the flags—English or Dutch, sometimes Spanish or French. The captain would order them to sail on, turning to avoid the ship if need be. They sailed fast to their destination.
Jill learned to climb the tall mainmast, hauling herself up on the jungle of lines, and to keep a lookout, tying herself in so she wouldn’t fall, eyes squinting against the wind and sun, and to recognize the smudges on the horizon that meant land. They passed islands, small, uncharted, nameless. Captain Cooper seemed to know which ones they were without consulting any maps, which ones had food and water, which provided good harbor, and which were off-limits because other pirates—or worse, some nation’s navy—anchored there.
One day, catching sight of the rapier slung on Captain Cooper’s belt, Jill realized she hadn’t thought about that qualifying tournament, her last bout, and the lost half second in days. She was too busy working, and too tired at night to do anything but sleep in her swaying hammock. She had stopped planning, stopped worrying about what happened next.
It had been far too easy to fall into this life—she was becoming one of them. Someone looking at her from the outside wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
She wondered when she’d finally wake up.
On her second watch, Jill spotted a shape far distant on the water. She thought her eyes were playing tricks, that the light on the water was making her see things. The object seemed to be moving along with the waves, flashing in the sun—light reflecting off sails?
She didn’t want to call a warning and be wrong about it—what sort of nickname would that earn her? They didn’t think much about learning curves around here; they expected her to just know things she couldn’t possibly know. But she watched that spot in the distance for five minutes, rested her eyes by looking around to the horizon and the open water surrounding them, and when she came back to it, the object was still there. It had to be a ship.
“Ahoy!” she called down, as those on watch had done when they saw something. Far below, the captain, Jenks, and others looked up at her—they probably didn’t think she knew what she was talking about. “Ship to larboard!” she called, and pointed.
Captain Cooper, identifiable by her coat and fall of auburn hair around her shoulders, went to the port side of the Diana and looked through her spyglass. Jill expected her to look a moment, then shout up the mast that she was crazy and seeing things. But Cooper kept staring through the glass.
She put it away with a sense of urgency.
“It’s Royal Navy,” Cooper said. “Let’s get out of their way before they can follow us.”
Jill was right, and felt oddly satisfied by it.
Cooper shouted commands for sails to be trimmed, and the ship turned and their speed increased. The movements were subtle. The ship Jill had been watching had come close enough that she could discern the wide hull, three masts, sails, and colored pennants flying from the top of one mast. It might have seen them and started to follow, but the Diana skipped away and sped out of view, and the other ship must have decided it was too much trouble to give chase.
When Jill’s shift at watch was over and she climbed down the mast, Captain Cooper was waiting for her on deck.
“Good eyes, Tadpole,” she said. “The navy patrols are common this close to Port Royal, and it’s best we stay out of their way.”
Jill didn’t want to feel pride, didn’t want to feel like she’d just won a touch against a difficult opponent. She wanted to be angry at Cooper for keeping secrets about the rapier shard—and for showing absolutely no interest in getting Jill home. She definitely didn’t want to get used to being here. But she did feel pride, and she was getting used to it.
The sun set on another day.
“We’ll careen her once we pull into the cove,” the captain announced the next morning. “It’ll take time to get everyone sorted, might as well take advantage.”
Land had come into view, a looming shape of island larger than many others they’d encountered, but not as large as Hispaniola or Cuba, which they’d slid past without approaching. This was Jamaica, their destination.
Jenks shouted orders, and the Diana changed direction, veering away before they’d drawn close enough to even make out trees and hills on the landmass.
“We want to stay out of the way,” Henry said, noting Jill’s confusion. “Port Royal’s south, and more trouble than we want just now.”
While they never left sight of the island, they didn’t draw any closer until late in the afternoon. They’d furled sails and tacked slowly into a western wind, making little progress. But Cooper stood on the foredeck, brass spyglass to her eye, searching for something. Once, she handed it to Abe, who called out and pointed.
Their port was deceptive. Jill would have sworn they sailed toward a solid piece of land, but as they drew closer, she saw that it was a separate island, long and thin, with beaches and palm trees, but no more than thirty feet wide. They rounded it, sailing into an inlet, calm and narrow, between the slender island and a corner of the Jamaican coast.
Jill’s heart sank. When they reached land, she’d assumed there’d be a town, some kind of civilization. Then she could escape—and do what? She still didn’t know. She’d still be stuck a long way from home.
“Where’s the port?” Jill said. She stood at the side with Henry to watch the ship’s approach to land.
The captain overheard. “And have us all caught and hanged? The big ships can’t get in here, and the spit of land’ll hide us. We can stay here long as we like.”
Jill said, “But I was hoping…I thought—”
“Thought what?” Cooper said.
“If we’re in a city, I’d have a better chance of finding my way home.”
“You signed articles, you’re crew now. This is your home.”
“But—”
“That’s enough of that.” Cooper walked off, and Jill had to leave the argument there.
The empty beach drew closer and closer, until a shudder passed through the hull, and the ship listed, then didn’t move at all. Jill grabbed a rope to keep from falling over. They’d run the Diana aground.
Then the work began. Dozens of sailors moved cannons on their wooden frames, securing them all to the port side of the ship, which, with all the weight on one side, began leaning sharply. Abe gathered the African passengers together and handed them ropes, gesturing them over the side. Emory, the doctor—surgeon, rather, though Jill hadn’t quite figured out the difference—was brought up on deck, squinting in the bright sun and beach, looking bedraggled in an untucked shirt, trousers, and scuffed shoes. One of the men tried to hand him a crate to carry to shore. Emory sneered and crossed his arms. After that, people ignored him. Even though he was a prisoner, no one bothered locking him up. But it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go. Just like Jill.
While she was watching, listening to the ominous creaks and groans the ship was making, Jenks came at her with a load of rope and pulleys. He was struggling to stay upright on the now steeply leaning deck—Jill herself didn’t dare let go of her handhold.
“You! Tadpole!”
Jill wished that name hadn’t stuck.
Jenks stumbled up beside her and leaned on the mast. “Take these to the beach.” He started transferring coils of ropes from his shoulder to hers; she scrambled to grab hold of them without letting them drop into a tangled mess. Square wooden pulleys, block and tackle, banged against her. The gear looked heavy when he’d been handling it. She thought she was going to fall over under the load.