Black Sea

Chapter 4

“What?” Came a symphony of voices. I glanced back at Anne, suspicion settled in her eyes.

I furrowed my eyes together, still unaware if that was an actual disagreement I had to solve. Why would she ever be suspicious? My reason to complain was far more reasonable than hers. After all, I was someone trained for six years and had sailed as Captain for more than two. Who was she? A woman in male attire?

“Kane are you out of your freaking mind? You ain't gonna trust him!” another glance of displeasure.

Captain Rackham waved his hand, pushing away the invisible accusations thrown at him.

“It's not about trust-”

“Yes, it fυcking is about trust. It has always been about trust!” she walked in front, her hands placed on his desk and her body leaning forward. A look of hers which I could not identify, removed Captain's relaxed composure.

“Anne, Mr Turner has experience.” He said warningly. Luckily not everyone in the room was as mad as that woman.

“So what?”

“‘So what’?” I reacted, resulting to their full attention on me. “Last time I checked, it's the experienced ones that survive at sea.”

She turned her body to me so slowly, it almost became tiring watching her. When she finally met my eyes, she walked a few steps towards me. I felt my eyes burning with intensity, ready to win a battle.

“They know me. They've seen what I can do. They trust me. What makes you think they would ever listen to your commands?”

Her words seemed to buzz around me like a fly that you can never swat. I was ready to spit the reply like poison on her face, when Captain's figure seemed to get taller as he got up. I met his eyes which were focused on Anne, holding a blank expression.

“Mr Turner, would you be kind enough to let me and Anne speak privately?”

I considered for a second. I hadn't finished, I never agreed to comanage the ship with her. But, there really was no choice. Gulping my sense of justice, I offered a sharp nod and stormed out of the room. I found myself in the upper deck, gazing the waters and the pirates working. Between the men cleaning and preparing the sails, two of them started pushing each other aggressively.

“Can't ye just tight a knot, wanker!”

“I'll show ye what I can do!”

In a matter of seconds, one was punching the other. They got splitted up almost immediately by the men that passed by. After all, fighting in the ship was against their rules.

“Get back to your work before I throw you off the ship!”

I remained staring at them from above as they turned their backs to each other. My mother had told me about those men, about their nature. They killed with no glimpse of mercy and emotion, only for ideals as money. I had seen myself what they could do. Every time they returned from a long journey back in Aeredale, it was tradition to remind us who ruled. They wasted every coin they had earned. They demanded to be served and treated properly or else the ghost within them gained form and targets.

But things were so different from my childhood years. I had a purpose and the chance to chase it by simply accepting their world, becoming one of them.

“Turner!” Came a shout from down below.

I lowered my chin, meeting the incessant woman staring up at me. Her mouth was a straight line, one eye hidden by her hat's shadow. But even one of them was enough to show her displeasure towards me. She averted her eyes, staring blankly at sea instead.

“Come.”

I did. I followed her in the quarterdeck, through the barrels and guns stored in small and dark rooms. The only place I came to enjoy its roominess was the sleeping quarters which were almost always empty. Hammocks were hanging over the floor, swinging in the rhythm of the sea. Over them were some personal belongings of the sailors, but nothing taking too much space. A few seconds there, and I came to spot the bad side of the quarters. The air was disgusting, stinking like a combination of rotten eggs and salt. Luckily, I didn't intend to spend much of my time down there.

At the other end, was a door that she opened with a key. It revieled a place with stacked black boxes and two additional hammocks in front of them. One held a woolen blanket over it while the other was empty. It was a really small room. The clean boxes, the only clean thing in the ship, took too much space. The storage area had enough space to fit some of them, why would they keep them there?

“This is where you and I sleep. To take care of the boxes.”

“What important is in them?” I asked once I stepped inside.

“Not your business.”

I should have predicted this. I gritted my teeth, clenched my hands to fists, counted to ten. But my nerves were just getting started. I thought my enemy would be a barbaric pirate, or a vicious Captain, or even better, a mad cook with knives in his hands. Something that would at least make the experience interesting. But no. My only problem seemed to be this woman and her annoying superiority.

“Once you leave your things here, you take this,” she left a lantern on the floor. “and check our cargo.”

She made a step to leave, but I had remained silent for a long time to accept that.

“I beg your pardon?” she glanced over her shoulder. “I became a quartermaster to check your cargo?”

“You became someone trusted to do this job and not steal. Ain't that good enough for you?”

That was a tricky question.

“I can offer more to the crew.”

Her lips changed from a hard line and made a tiny movement upwards. It was a smile impossible to detect, but the slightest movement of her face muscles could be radical not to take notice of it.

“Persuade me.”

“Whatever, I don't agree to the plan!”

“You think I care?”

With that, she walked away. Her hands balanced over her gun and head high. When she reached the door at the end of the room, she informed,

“We're sailing in a few minutes.”