Читать книгу To Slight the Jacket Blue - Bronwyn Sciance - Страница 4

"Come on, Ned, aren't you packed yet?"

"Almost," Ned called out the window. He turned back to his simple wooden trunk and added the small, tarnished band of gold his mother had given him that morning–the ring that had once been his father's wedding band, and which his mother hoped would bring him luck. She often said that the day he hadn't worn it was the day he had been killed, struck by a laden cart whose horses had broken their traces. Sighing softly, he closed the trunk and headed down the stairs with it.

Ned's mother wasn't there–she had to work, especially after her husband's death, and the seamstress had needed her that morning–but Ned's brother and sister were waiting for him. Richard, a gentle lad of nine, was standing as straight as he could for having to lean on his crutch. Elizabeth, five, was crying into her apron–she would make no pretense at bravery, not today.

Ned ruffled his brother's hair. "You will take care of Mother for me, right, Dick?"

"Oh, I will, Ned. You can count on me." Dick's eyes shone with the pride he felt that his big brother trusted him to be the man of the house.

Elsie clung to Ned's arm, looking up at him pleadingly, her eyes still wet. "Oh, Ned, can't we come to the docks to see you off? Please? It'll be the last time we get to see you for ever so long."

Ned hesitated. "All right, but you have to promise to be careful."

"We will!" both said in unison. Ned hoisted his trunk and headed out the door.

Sam was waiting impatiently, tapping his foot. "There you are!" he sighed. "Hurry up, the tide will be turning soon."

Both boys–twelve had seemed almost grown when Will had first sailed, but they still felt themselves children in many ways–wore the simple linen shirts and trousers of common sailors, but Ned's outfit was plain while Sam's was dark. Though they had searched hard, no ship was hiring two cabin boys, and in the end they had signed to different ships. At Sam's suggestion, they had each taken a different route.

"Which ship are you on, Ned?" Dick asked as they arrived at the dock. Five ships stood waiting–four merchantmen and one warship. The press gangs had been out the night before; the boys had stayed inside and watched from the upper windows of the tavern as hapless men were swept up.

"I'll be on the Maryanne," Ned answered, pointing the ship out to his brother and sister. "Sam sets sail on the Josephine."

"And that one's Navy," Sam added, pointing to the warship, "and that one–the Rose of Sharon–she was already full before we went looking for a berth."

"What about that one? What's it called?" Elsie asked, pointing to the fifth ship.

"She," Dick said importantly. "All ships are she." He paused. "Why is that, Ned?"

Ned and Sam exchanged glances. Deciding to go for the safer question, Ned answered, "I don't know, Dick. I suppose it's because the ship is a sort of mother to the crew. She'll keep us safe, just like Mother does."

"But what's that one called?" Elsie repeated impatiently.

Sam answered, "That's the Victoria. Will sails on her."

"You called me?"

Ned looked up at the lad he had once considered worthy of respect. At sixteen he was more the man than ever, and he had recently gained a small promotion. "Hello, Will," he said without enthusiasm.

Will looked Sam and Ned up and down. "Off to sea at last, are you? Come to join the Victoria's crew, hey?"

"No, Will, I'm for the Josephine and Ned's to sail on the Maryanne," Sam answered, his voice colder than Ned's had been. "We don't hold with the Victoria's cargo."

Will shrugged. Four years of servitude had changed him considerably, and Ned was none too sure he liked the changes. "It's not so bad, when you get used to it. There's good money to be made with this trade. And at least it's safe."

Sam scowled. "Safe?" he practically spat. "Safe from what?"

"From pirates, lad."

Elsie's eyes widened. "Pirates!"

Dick looked trustingly up at his brother. "Pirates wouldn't dare attack a ship if they knew you were on it, Ned. And even if they did, you could fight them all off, right?"

Ned didn't choose to disillusion his brother. "Right."

Will gave a snort of derisive laughter. "Suit yourselves. I'm off to get my men ready. Perhaps I'll see you back in port in two years."

"Perhaps," Ned said cautiously. "Godspeed, Will."

He held out his hand, but Will strode off without another word, barking orders as he went. Sam turned to Ned. "Well, I'm on a two-year course myself. The Josephine's bound for the Caribbean and the sugarcane trade. What of you?"

Ned had listened carefully to the men of the Maryanne's crew as they had calculated the route. "I think we'll be making the circuit of England in a half-year's time. But that certainly means I'll be pulling in here two years from now."

Sam held out his hand. "Meet you at the Purple Falcon, our table, two years from now, then. Safe sailing and Godspeed, Ned."

"And you, Sam." Ned shook his friend's hand. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"All hands on deck!" came a faint cry.

Sam turned. "That's my master. I'd best go."

"I should go as well." Ned glanced at the ship that was to be his home.

"I don't want you to go!" Elsie wailed, throwing her arms around Ned.

"Oh, Elsie, it's all right." Ned knelt to take her in his arms. "I'll write you often and often. You can use them to practice your letters."

"You too, Sam," Elsie insisted, looking over Ned's shoulder.

Sam laughed. "I'll write as often as I can, but remember, I shall be farther away. Still, I'll keep a diary for you to read on my return."

"Me, too?" Dick asked hopefully.

"Of course," Sam promised. "I wouldn't leave you out."

The cry came again. Ned and Sam kissed Elsie, rumpled Dick's hair, and embraced swiftly before heading off to their ships. As Ned reached the top of the gangplank, he turned to look a little wistfully at the Josephine, which was beginning to cast off its lines. He said a soft prayer to keep his dear friend safe, and as an afterthought, added a prayer for himself.