Wicked Runaway: A Mark Cannidor Adventure

Chapter Four (Part Two)

***

The following days on board the Lady Sinatra saw a routine of early rises and early bedtimes. It was non-stop for Mark and Lorenz, who worked tirelessly to make sure the crew of the ship were well fed, watered, happy, and energised for the day ahead. Add the fact that a special meal was made specifically for the captain and his wife, there was not a moments rest.

The Lady Sinatra had, indeed, made stops to several countries across continental Europe. They stopped in Hamburg to collect some supplies. Then they sailed to Copenhagen in Denmark, to deliver a strange parcel that Mark did not get to see. Then they sailed north around Scandinavia and Russia.

Whatever business the Lady Sinatra conducted Mark had no idea. Items were wrapped in oddly shaped packages. The crew were given some gifts such as liquor and more food. One businessman in Sweden gave the crew a large cake in return for some odd fabrics made of silver. Of course, Mark nor Lorenz had an opportunity to see the cake – they were busy working below decks, tirelessly preparing dinner for that evening.

One other thing Mark could not get his head around was whether Malcheffi was paying for these items, or whether their clients were paying for these. Most of the items looked rather expensive, and from Mark’s recollection from reading about pirates in books, they wouldn’t be able to afford most of these artefacts. Pirates, from what Mark could determine, had to scavenge or fight to get what they wanted. These items seemed as though they were worth thousands of pounds, and the people who bought them must have had a lot of money.

Unless they were stolen artefacts?

Mark actually took it upon himself to find out what these goods were. On a windy Sunday night, as they left a port in Finland, Mark was delivering dinner to the captain’s quarters. On his way back, he noticed some suspect crates which he found were out of this world. No other crate he had seen in his life looked so…glorious. It was hand painted in a luxurious purple, with embossed silver handwriting in some foreign language. Mark was determined to seize this moment as his opportunity to discover exactly what the contents of the crate were. He knelt down in front of the box, and slowly opened it, keeping a watch over his shoulder in case any one of the crew members came by.

Mark had managed to open the crate.

The inside was empty.

Were his eyes deceiving him? Was this some sort of trickery? Mark had guessed there would be treasure inside the crate. Instead, it stood empty and unused.

Mark heard footsteps behind him. He slammed the crate shut and stood up abruptly. Two girls walked past. They were laughing merrily and did not pay any attention to Mark. It was a good job, too. If they had seen Mark looking inside the box…then again, maybe the box had nothing to do with those two girls?

Mark did not want to take his chances in being found once again, so he raced straight back to bed.

The following day, Mark decided to look for the box again. However, it had been handed over to a Russian aristocrat. It was a shame not to have seen the box again. It could have revealed many secrets which Mark could have shared with the authorities at the right time.

But it was just a box, a voice inside his head told him.

‘I know,’ Mark responded to himself glumly.

‘Is everything all right?’ Lorenz asked that morning when he returned to the kitchens. Mark was determined to tell Lorenz everything about the box, from the moment he discovered the mysterious crate to this morning when he found that it had left the ship. Mark shook his head miserably, considering the consequences if Lorenz found out more than he should know. Mark could not risk having his best friend getting into any bother because of that. Who knew how Malcheffi would react if he knew that his secrets had landed in the wrong hands?

Yet, Mark kept this secret to himself. He had an inkling as to what the captain was up to. He was dealing in the black market. He was dealing with goods that were dangerous to this society. Mark could only guess what the goods were used for. Scientific reasons, perhaps? Or maybe it had something to do with treason? It was too soon to tell; however, Mark was determined to get to the bottom of this. He was determined. He was desperate to seek the truth about Sigourney Malcheffi. One way or another, he was going to prove to the world what Malcheffi was and what he was capable of.

After a month of sailing around Europe, Mark had no time to consider where all the goods came from. Finally, it was time to head west.

‘We’ll get you home soon, son,’ Malcheffi told Mark one afternoon, ask they were sailing out of Finland.

‘Is that a promise?’

The captain looked down at Mark at this point. It seemed as though the captain was figuring out the best way to respond. Instead, Malcheffi walked away.

Mark took every opportunity at his disposal to ask the captain as many questions as possible. Where are we now? What else do you want from me? When are you taking me back to England? It grew very tiresome, not only for Mark, but also for Malcheffi. One afternoon, on a warm day, the captain actually snapped at Mark when asked what the next destination would be.

‘I HAVE TOLD YOU TO STOP ASKING b****y QUESTIONS!’ the captain shouted. ‘NEVER DISTURB ME AGAIN!’

Mark didn’t see the captain at all since that afternoon’s encounter. It was so frustrating. He deserved answers. He needed someone to talk to, but even Lorenz had his own instructions not to say too much. Lorenz apologised more than anyone else, and instead gave Mark jobs to do around the ship. Often, Mark was sent away from the kitchens as opposed to working in the kitchen itself. He would sweep floors, change beds while the crew were working above decks, and polish some of Malcheffi’s finest pieces in his study. He finally figured out that this was to avoid any interaction with anyone else. A lot of these jobs were for Mark to complete by himself.

It was all under Malcheffi’s orders.

Perhaps it was motion sickness since he was in the middle of sea, but Mark felt homesick. He couldn’t help but wonder what his parents were doing. They must have been worried about Mark. It was rather odd, however, that they hadn’t taken any action by now to find their son. Why had he not heard from them? Why had no one chased the Lady Sinatra, trying to capture Mark in order to return him to his home? Mark wanted to hide. He wished he could cry. But was there any point to that? Mark had to remind himself to be strong. Just like Edward and Hazel.

Then again – did anyone care about him?

He was in the middle of sea with at least two hundred strangers. It was difficult not being able to communicate with anyone. The only person he really got to see was Lorenz. Even then, Lorenze was asleep by the time he woke up and went to bed. It was all so humiliating.

The mealtimes were the strangest things about Mark’s journey on board the Lady Sinatra. Malcheffi had instructed Mark not to talk to any other crew members on board the ship. And, in fact, he hadn’t. He had stuck to his promise. Just like the captain wanted.

At mealtimes, Mark sat in a corner, on his own, savouring what was left of the food prepared for the crew. He would watch Lorenz chatting merrily with crew members, laughing, and joking. Mark felt like a ghost, invisible, and it felt as though he shouldn’t be eating the food that had been provided with after a day of slave labour. Yet he ate because he knew he needed food to survive.

Food seemed to be the only comfort he had on board this ship. That, and the fact that Lorenz sometimes kept him company during mealtimes. It was the only opportunity they had to see each other, and every day Mark looked forward to it. Mark had found a best friend in Lorenz. They had cooked together, shared the same room, and often spent plenty of time observing the beauty offered by the various surroundings they would pass by. There was ample opportunity to observe sea life, and often they got to work on different projects together.

It was a shame that they couldn’t sit down together and have a full conversation. Malcheffi and his wife had made sure that that was not possible for them.

In the coming days, some crew members tried to say hello to Mark. They were trying to be friendly, help him to fit in. But he knew couldn’t respond. He just looked down at the floor, pretending that he couldn’t hear anyone who surrounded him. It was depressing. Humiliating, in fact. Mark would have given anything to communicate with the other crew members. However, he had his orders. He was not to talk to anyone.

One afternoon, a gentleman around Lorenz’s age tried to ask how he felt about the journey. Mark didn’t want to go against the captain’s orders. So, he looked down at the floor and started whispering to himself. It all seemed foolish. But that was clearly the effect the captain wanted. Wasn’t it?

That was when the trouble started.

‘Are you sure he’s alright?’ the young crew member asked Malcheffi that afternoon.

‘He’s a lost cause,’ Malcheffi explained. ‘We took him in when we were docked in England. We’ve tried everything we possibly can for the poor lad. Sure, he is good in the kitchen. Yes, he is polite when he wants to be. But he isn’t all that sociable. We’re giving the boy a chance’.

The captain sighed, pretending to feel sorry for the boy.

Lies, Mark thought to himself. You were there and you know it. You know what you’ve done. Why not just own up and take me back to England right this second?

‘I don’t know why you bother to have him here,’ the crew member continued. ‘He deserves to go straight to an orphanage. They’ll sort the lad out. No more whimpering, feeling sorry for himself. They’ll take him in, and they will teach him a lesson. He’ll have the beating he deserves’.

‘I’m quite afraid that it’s not as simple as that, Ben,’ the captain replied. ‘He knows too much about our world. Who knows what secrets he could expose about us?’

‘I don’t quite understand what you mean’.

Malcheffi and the crew member called Ben noticed Mark watching them and turned away.

‘I suspect he is a wizard,’ Malcheffi whispered.

‘What?’

‘Shh!’

Ben looked over his shoulder, double checking that Mark wasn’t listening.

‘His father brought him on board,’ Malcheffi continued. ‘Edward Cannidor. Are you familiar with the Cannidors?’

Ben shrugged.

‘Well, they are wizards, and they fought during the previous wizarding war. They exposed my secret. Nasty people, they are. Looking for world peace? Fat chance. I don’t know a single soul who fights to protect the status of this earth. But I’ll tell you another thing as well. These two people discovered my secret, and they used that against…’

‘Why don’t you stop talking behind my back and tell me what’s going on?’

The captain and Ben turned round.

Mark had stood on his feet, scowling up at the two men who had been sharing secrets. The captain glanced around his crew, who had started to whisper. After a few uncomfortable moments, the captain laughed.

‘Little one is probably just hungry,’ Malcheffi chuckled, stepping towards the boy as if it was time for him to be rushed off somewhere. ‘Will you stop playing your wicked games, boy!’

‘You’re the one who has been making a mockery of me this entire trip!’ Mark yelled. ‘You took me away from my parents. You left me here with no explanation. I demand to know the truth!’

‘The truth?’ Malcheffi snarled. ‘I don’t quite understand what you are talking about’.

‘The truth about your damned boat’.

Mark had gone too far now. The captain clicked his fingers.

‘You’re making a mistake, son,’ Malcheffi snapped. ‘Now, why don’t you go down to bed where you belong’.

‘You’re a filthy little man!’

‘Take him below decks…’

Malcheffi had no opportunity to continue.

There was a shriek below deck. The crew aboard the main deck fell silent, looking around for the source of the noise.

It became obvious moments later who made the noise.

An elderly woman wearing a black dress and a white apron came sprinting onto the deck. She was wet, shaking, and panting heavily. Mark could not understand what had caused the commotion. However, the woman stopped, and she pointed a long, crooked finger towards Mark.

Mark’s heart skipped a beat.

‘You!’ she shouted. ‘This is all your fault! You vicious little bastard!’

There were whispers around the main deck. Whispers of concern, fright, and anger. Eyes had turned towards Mark, who had been wanting to jump overboard there and then. He was stood there, opposite the captain, the centre of attention. It was embarrassing. And there was no way out.

‘I don’t know what…’ Mark began to mumble.

He knew that no one was going to believe him.

The woman dropped to the floor, floods of tears pouring from her eyes. Jayne Malcheffi swooped down to join here, patting her on the back with every effort to comfort her.

‘Brenda, what is it?’ Jayne asked.

‘Feathers!’ Brenda snapped. ‘Blood everywhere! Ostrich guts all over my bed! And you want to know what the worst thing is? No? Well, I’ll tell you anyway! He has stolen my mother’s precious gold necklace!’