A man in a strange uniform—blue coat cut high at the waist, white trousers, and a saber hanging from a baldric slung across his shoulder—motioned for Erik to stand away. When the others were aboard, Foster called up, “That lot is to be kept together, Mr. Collins!”
The man in the strange uniform leaned over the rail and said, “In with the others?”
“Yes,” answered Foster as the longboat pulled away. “But in a corner, Mr. Collins!”
“Aye, aye, Corporal Foster.”
The man named Collins turned and ordered, “Follow me.”
He moved down a strange ladder, narrow and steep, into a square hatchway, forward of the main mast. Erik was the last into the hold, and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. They entered a cargo hold that had been reconfigured to act as a barracks. Erik saw that twenty triple bunks had been fastened to the bulkheads, ten to each side of the ship, lengthwise, creating a fairly wide aisle.
Between the head of one set of three bunks and the foot of the next set, large trunks had been affixed to the deck, in which men were busy stowing gear. Collins motioned for the six prisoners to follow him. He led them to the two sets of bunks farthest from the other men, set against the starboard bulkhead; those across the hold on the port side were empty. He motioned for them to occupy the bunks. “This is where you’ll sleep. You’ll eat on deck unless the weather’s too rough, when you’ll be eating here. You can store your gear in those two trunks.” He pointed to the trunk closest to the bulkhead at the aft of the cargo hold and the one between the two sets of bunks they were assigned.
Roo said, “We’ve got no gear.”
The man said, “You’ll call me Mr. Collins, or sir, when you address me. I’m the Second Mate on Trenchard’s Revenge. The First Mate is Mr. Roper, and the Captain is . . . You call him Captain. Is that clear?”
Roo said, “Yes, Mr. Collins. But they didn’t give us any gear, sir.”
“That’s not my problem. Your officer will get you what you need, I’m sure. It’s a long voyage, and you’ll have ample time to get organized. Now stay here until you’re sent for.” He left.
Biggo took one of the lower bunks, with Sho Pi and Billy Goodwin above him, while Roo, Erik, and Luis took the other bunk, in descending order.
“What do we do now?” asked Roo.
Biggo grinned. “Nothing. I’m for a nap!” he added cheerfully.
Erik realized that he was also tired, but nervous, waiting to discover what fate held in store for them next. Still, the lulling of the ship as it moved gently on groundswells in the harbor quickly soothed his nerves, and soon he was asleep as well.
A clatter from above and a sense of motion, and Erik sat up, striking his head against the bottom of the bunk above. Wincing at the pain, he almost stepped on Roo as he got down from the middle bunk.
A grinding sound from above and a change in motion, coupled with the shouts of orders from above, and it was clear they were under way. The six prisoners stood unsure of what to do, while the thirty men at the other end of the hold seemed amused by their confusion.
One of them, a large man nearly Biggo’s size, said, “Why don’t you run up and tell Bobby de Loungville that he’s been thoughtless in not telling you we was leaving this soon!”
This brought a burst of laughter.
Luis said, “Why don’t you go ask him if he knows who your father might be. Your mother certainly didn’t.”
The man on the bunk was on his feet and two strides on his way toward Luis when Sho Pi intercepted him. “Now, a moment, my friend,” said the Isalani.
“You’re no friend of mine,” countered the large man, now obviously ready to fight with anyone, as he put his hand on Sho Pi’s chest to push him aside.
Suddenly the man was on his knees, pain etched on his face as Sho Pi held his hand in a torturous grip, pulling thumb back and palm reversed so the hand twisted back hard against its own wrist. A gasp of agony was the only sound he made.
“I was going to suggest,” said Sho Pi, “that as this is going to be a very long and tedious voyage, it would be in all of our best interests to make peace and try to consider one another’s feelings. I’m sure my friend here is more than willing to apologize for impugning your mother if you’ll graciously grant him pardon.”
Luis was now amused, and with a gesture of removing a nonexistent hat, he bowed like a courtier and said, “Sir, I was a boor and acted rashly and without thought. My behavior shames me. I crave your pardon, sir.”
The gasping man, whose eyes were now watering so that tears streamed down his face, said, “Granted!” It was barely more than a croak of pain.
Sho Pi released his hand and the man almost fainted from relief. Billy helped him to his feet and escorted him back to his own companions, trying to keep from grinning as he did. The man kept rubbing his hand, as if expecting something to be broken, but nothing was. He shook it a few times as Billy returned to his own side of the hold.