"I'll hear no more Hallet,” replied the captain, thinly;" not another word."
The contemptuous rest glared at the young man for daring to defend us.
"Ah, pardon me?" said Harmony, politely raising her hand. "How many men does it take to sail a vessel like this? I'd imagine a lot, yet see no more than a handful here."
All the sailors promptly stopped eating or drinking to hear their God's reply. "The handful here can do the work of a hundred, lass. Take your fill men! Eat up now! Get it down ye!"
His disciples returned to meals, but from their plates, they listened to every word said. "When seas are calm and winds favourable," continued Christian, "Bounty steers herself. A haphazard method I grant you, but we have no other choice. The upper deck is no longer sound."
"It attracts…" uttered Hallet, rattling his fork and unable to finish the sentence.
"What?" asked Harmony. "What haunts you John Hallet?"
The boy lowered his head with nothing more to say, so I answered for all of them; quoting from a book I read a very long time ago. "Part dark, part sea — the inescapable nightmare. The Dreadknot."
My suspicions were proved right as grown men turned to scared children in their seats.
"You say that so casually,” Christian said, "as if it a knob of butter or yard of rope — some mild benign thing. Is there no fear in you lad?"
"I have fear, sir. Of course I do. I fear the unknown like any other — but your creature is known to me."
The captain stretched back in his chair and the ravenous sailors eating dulled to mere nibbling.
"What do you know of it?" whispered Hallet, his appetite gone completely.
"The scream earlier?" I asked him.
"The Dreadknot's work,” he confirmed. "Burkett — worse luck befell him. We only hear the screams, the dire screams before we've lost another shipmate."
"It has butchered thirteen of my men!" exclaimed Christian, his painful voice feeling every loss. "Seated here are all that's left of HMS Bounty. However those brave, unfortunate thirteen do provide the meal on your plates."
"What do you mean?" I said, face screwing up.
"The Dreadknot leaves us its scraps,” said McCoy, gorging. "We burn the fats for light, we eat the meats for energy — we feed!"
Seamen continued to cut with knives and stab with forks. I had yet to eat a morsel of their yellow meat, and it would stay that way. I shared vacant expressions with Harmony from across the table. Words unnecessary.
"More hands are imperative," said Christian, untroubled. "After the samurai is disciplined the rest of you stowaways will join our crew. Part of the family now."
"We can't stay here!" cried Harmony. "We have a higher purpose! We do not belong to you!"
"Hear that lads?" Christian declared, amused. "The frog and her chums are too good for our ship and her company. What do ye say to that mates?"
"Toss em overboard!" heckled one. "Better yet — carve 'em up!"
"AYE!"
Christian restrained his boisterous men with a wave, and then directed his meat-skewered fork at Harmony. "There are no higher purposes,” he growled. "We are all dregs in Hell, lass. And you'd do well to learn your place in it. As I see things, without Bounty your only chance is with the sea, and those wings will soon see ye at the bottom of it." He then scarfed down his flapping piece of food from the fork.
"What do you expect from us?" she asked him, glassy eyed. "We are not sailors! We are not cannibals either!"
"Learn,” returned the captain, over further giggles. "Toil is what I expect lad! Pump out the leaks, tend to canvas and put your backs into every order! You can be on your merry way when we reach port — till then you're crew on my vessel, regarded no higher or lower. Follow orders, do your duty, and sea legs will sure find ye."
"But there is no land!" I bawled, standing. "No port! You're all doomed to sail this sea forever! That is your fate Captain Christian — not ours!"
"What do they mean no land?" sneered McCoy, fear forcing him to his feet.
"They'll say anything to save themselves.,” added Christian, coolly. "Anything at all! As your captain I promise ye lads, with all my heart, no sea will keep us from kissing soil. Now since you are standing McCoy…please escort our new shipmates back to the hold. Seems the food doesn't quite agree with them tonight."
"Aye aye captain!" said McCoy, agreeably.
"How long do you intend to imprison us?" asked Harmony, before the Scotsman could lay a hand on her.
"Till yer minds are free from mischief,” he returned. “Now off with ye! Psst!"
I held Harmony's hand and McCoy's sword showed us to the door.
"Better get going,” advised Hallet, looking helpless from his seat.
Harmony moved but I remained, overlooking the glimmering table and the flesh eaters at it. "Stay where you are Harmony. We're not going anywhere."
The angel appeared in two minds while I glared at the cryptic captain. McCoy suddenly snatched my wrist but I slapped him away with one hand and near struck him with the other. "Release my two friends captain," I said, controlling my temper, "and return our weapons immediately. Right now."
Suddenly, all the sailors burst into fits of laughter, causing some to choke on food and even the sympathising John Hallet to snicker bubbles back into his goblet. I felt Harmony worry her eyes into the side of my face as I waited for the eventual end of this toothless cackle, arriving the very moment Christian screeched back his chair, and lurched himself upright. He took weighty steps toward me now, and the burning candlelight revealing his face first to Harmony, who screamed the room down before fainting to the floor.
"Leave her be!" thundered Christian. "Let her alone there!"
The clear view of Christian's face wrung the guts in my stomach. His three quarter hat was black and proud, and his uniform perfectly preserved with spit polished gold buttons and a gleaming cutlass at his left side — he was very much the dignified Naval officer. His face however was far from admirable: wrapped entirely in bloodied bandage, he was mummy like, with only a horizontal slit at the eyes and the mouth free from cloth. "I give the orders lad,” he said, his frame ballooning before me. "Who are ye?" he yelled, then repeated with spittle flying and his fist pulverising a plate. "Who are ye? I have sailed this ship round the seven seas, and here betwixt death and darkness I lead by example! With two working cannon and steadily decreasing crew, I have engaged and destroyed twelve Spanish and French man o’ war, beaten tempest after tempest and taken a scour to this ocean like no man before! All with no compass, no clock, no stars or charts to guide me! I am the only soul to survive an attack by the creature that pesters us at every turn — have the nightmares and face to prove it! So I say again lad — I ask again lad — who are ye, and what makes ye think to give Captain Fletcher Christian orders on his own ship? "
Any clear patches of bandaged white over Christian's face soaked red from the ravages underneath. My feet remained firm however, and my expression held its composed veneer; for I had something this crew desperately needed — I had hope, and leverage. "Captain Christian," I began, "I am the only man who can save your damned fucking ship and the miserable sons a bitches in it. So you'll do two things for me and I'll do one for you. For me, tonight, you will spare the samurai's life and return our weapons — and for you, tomorrow, I will kill the Dreadknot!"
***
In the stagnant hold, Eddinray and Kat stared intently into the other. They were locked in deadly combat, a most serious battle of wills. Kat did not show any hint of weakness during their contest — there would be no blinking from him, no sign of life whatsoever. Eddinray however was not so focused, his eyes twitched once, then twice — teetering on the brink of failure. Bravely he held his stare another ten seconds before conceding the match, and Kat raised a very self-satisfied brow.