stopped. This is a first you know,” he said, narrowing an accusing eye. “I have never had a woman call me anything so vile or the likes of this in me entire life!”
He stopped in mid-stride and rolled his eyes, striving to recall. “Nope. Never!” he said, with a definitive thump of his fist on the table that made her jump. “It defies all logic. Damn perplexing creatures, women. Incomprehensible!”
Nathan continued to storm the room. “If you’ve a complaint, woman, then out with it. We fancy ourselves as running a civil ship. We might be pirates, but we don’t go a-name calling just because it suits our fancy. We’ve a Ship’s Council; file your complaints as any worthy sea rover would.”
He threw himself into his chair and slouched, his outrage fading to resignation. “I’ve known a vast number of people in me life,” he said, as if that fact was of relevance.
Given his acrimony, it seemed unwise to now attempt to discuss the very thing that had set him off. Not everyone appreciated an examination of something so personal. And yet, he was so bereft Cate couldn’t sit in silence. Sensing it safe, she picked up the chance to possibly defend herself, or at least mollify a bit of his pique.
“How many were friends?” she asked carefully.
Nathan slid down further to prop his boots on the table. “What is this ‘friends,’ anyway?”
He posed the question as if it were a condition or disease, certainly not something to be sought.
Cate closed one eye in thought. Her first urge was to mock him: anyone knew what it meant. Considering his life, however, it was possible he had never enjoyed the opportunity. Pirates. Treachery. Bloodshed. Killing. Mutiny. Raid. Kill. Plunder. Hardly fertile ground.
“Umm…trust?” she said.
Nathan made a scorn-laden noise at the back of his throat and rolled his eyes. “Bloody little o’ that…and dwindling each day.” He slid a cutting look at her that quelled any doubts as to what he meant.
He fell quiet, the dry rasp of his thumb brushing back and forth across the brown glass the only sound.
“Two, mebbe three,” Nathan said at length. He seemed a bit surprised by the revelation, but it was unclear if it was because there were so few or that there were that many.
His boyish innocence was heartbreaking, for someone who had lived elbow to elbow virtually his entire life, and yet could count less than a handful as trustworthy.
It was possible that his standard for assigning such status was higher and was affronted by her having assigned it so cavalierly. Cate had assumed it would be taken in the same way as she had intended. She had been without connection for so long—no husband, no family, no home…no friends. She had found a raft in a sea of loneliness and she clung to it, joyous for that small bit of salvation.
“If you like, I’ll take it back,” she said.
“What will that accomplish?” he asked, sulking. “Can’t unring a bell.”
“Dong!” she said brightly in a pitiful mimic of a bell. “There, see: undone.”
The end of his mustache reluctantly lifted, the familiar humor returning to his eyes. “That easy, eh?”
The storm had passed. Like those of the Caribbean, his anger boiled in, raged and crashed, and then departed with nothing more than a faint rumble.
She rose and lightly laid a hand on his shoulder. “Rest assured, the word has been stricken from my vocabulary. You’ll never hear it again. Do we have an accord?”
Nathan smiled with considerable relief and lifted the bottle in salute. “Agreed.”
She bent nearer and said in a loud whisper, “Be assured, however, good Captain, this by no means implies that I shall be changing my opinion.”
Flourishing the quilt as if it were the royal robes, she strolled back to the sleeping quarters. From behind her came the sound of Nathan taking a drink and a rumbling groan.
“Bloody woman!”
###
As members of the Brethren of the Coast, equality for the men of the Ciara Morganse came in many ways: equal voice in affairs of piracy and equal shares in the resulting plunder, as well as equality in choosing who was to lead them through it all. Daily, Cate came to understand the delicate balance Nathan maintained as Captain. The volatility of commanding pirates raised its head with startling abruptness one morning.
The day had started with Cate waking from one of those sleeps so deep it took her several moments to collect where she was. She lay snuggled deep under the quilt. Blinking the