Robin and Sam exchanged glances, and then the captain gave Sam a shove towards the cabin. He stumbled, recovered, and headed into the small cabin.
"And don't come out until I say otherwise!" he bellowed after the lad.
Sam sat on the low wooden box set aside for him, trying to stop himself from shaking. Any minute now, the captain would come in and tell him that he would have to do extra tasks to repay the offence, and that he might as well start right away, and then...
There seemed to be a lot of shouting going on outside the cabin. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the captain bellow, "Jameson! On the double!"
Sam hurried out the door to find the captain pointing upward. "You're the best at climbing the rigging. Get up there and tell me what device is on that ship!"
Bewildered, Sam complied. About halfway up, he stopped to look. The flag that flew from the approaching ship was definitely not the Union Jack, nor was it the same flag that had been flying before.
Cupping a hand around his mouth, Sam yelled down, "Red field with a white skull, a flying glass, and a cutlass, Cap'n!"
"Cap'n, red means no mercy," the quartermaster called. "We should surrender."
"Surrender?" the captain roared. "Wid' a full hold of cargo? Never! Men, arm yourselves, prepare to fight!"
"Is that wise?" Sam asked Robin as he touched the deck. To his mild surprise, he wasn't afraid of the pirates.
"Not unless you've a death wish," the young quartermaster replied dryly. "This device I'm not familiar with, but it's a red flag. You and I both know that won't be good. If we're lucky, we might manage to win the fight."
"And if we're unlucky?" Sam inquired, taking a sword from the weapons cache.
"If we're unlucky, lad, pray it ends swiftly."
Chapter Four
Two years at sea was probably the equal of ten years on dry land for experience, but Ned wouldn't have traded his time on the Maryanne for anything. That he put back into Bristol every six months probably helped that, he had to admit, but still, there had been times he had almost wished he could have stayed at sea forever. Now, though, Ned was glad for the port call, for it would enable him to see his friend for the first time in two years.
As soon as the last box was offloaded to the dock, Ned saluted his captain. "Permission to go ashore, sir?"
"Granted," the captain answered, handing over the boy's wage chit. "Be back tomorrow to collect what's owing to you."
Ned nodded, then hurried down the gangplank. Stopping a passing dockworker–a lad with whom he had once played–he inquired, "Any other ships docked in this week?"
"The Victoria was here yesterday," the worker answered. "Left with the morning tide today."
Satisfied that–for once–he had beat Sam, Ned first went home to see his family, then back to the dock to wait for news of the Josephine.
Three days passed, and Ned was becoming seriously concerned. The Josephine had been due back a week past, and it was now extremely overdue. No one seemed able to tell him why. Finally, Ned took himself to the Purple Falcon to hear what the crowd there had to say.
Entering the tavern, Ned saluted Hannah, who waved back and sent her daughter over with a plate of the day's lunch and the house cider. Ned ate in silence for a moment, then noticed a large group surrounding a battle-scarred sailor, who seemed to be in the midst of a story. Ned turned around to listen.
"...Biggest battle I'd ever seen," the sailor was saying. "My cap'n tried t' get close enough to help, but the bo'sun reckernised the flag and warned 'im off."
"What was it?" yelled one of the listeners.
"Red wid' a skull, a flyin' hourglass, an' a hand holdin' a cutlass. Christopher Moody's device."
A concerted gasp came from the surrounding crowd. The sailor continued. "I tell ye, lads, for their sakes I 'ope they had the sense to surrender."
"Why?" Ned asked. Every head in the crowd turned to look at him.
The sailor shook his head. "Ye've not been long at sea, lad, or ye'd know. Red on a pirate's flag means show-no-mercy. Surrender or die."
"What did Master Delancey have to say when you told him?" asked a man in the back of the tavern.
The sailor barked with laughter. "Hah, him? He shrugged, said it weren't no great loss. The Josephine never brought back much."
Ned sputtered on his cider. "The Josephine?" he coughed. "When? How?"
"About six months ago, just afore they turned for home. Doubt if they were wise enough to surrender. Captain Overwood was a right damned fool."
Poor Hannah gave a single, high-pitched cry and swooned. Sam's sister Rebecca, a young woman now at sixteen, threw her apron over her face and sobbed. Ned couldn't stay, couldn't think. He rose slowly, turned, and left the tavern. He walked the streets without seeing any of them.
"Sharpe? What's the matter, lad?"
Ned looked up into the kind face of his captain. "You look like you've just lost your best friend."
"I have, sir," Ned said softly. In a few words he repeated what he had just learned about the fate of the Josephine and her crew.
"I want to do something," he completed. "But I don't know what."
"I think I can help you with that," the captain said with a smile. "Come with me, Sharpe."
It took a month or two for everything to sort itself out, but finally the day came when Ned once again prepared himself to leave on a sea voyage.
"Are you certain you want to do this, Ned?" Sarah asked him as she straightened his collar.
"I'm certain, Mother." Ned shifted his pack to his other hand and turned to Hannah, who looked pale and worn and still wore black. "I promise, I will find the scum who murdered Sam. And I will bring him to justice. There will be nowhere in the ocean–in the world–where he can hide from me, I swear it."
Sarah kissed him. He hugged his brother and sister, then Hannah and Sam's sister Rebecca, then turned and mounted the gangplank. He saluted the sailor at the top, who returned the gesture in kind.
"Ah, Midshipman Sharpe. We've been expecting you."
Come All You Gallant Seamen Bold
Go home, go home, says Captain Ward
And tell your king for me,
If he reigns king all on the land
Ward will reign king on the sea...
- Francis J. Child, "Ward the Pirate"
