MacCallister: The Eagles Legacy by William W. Johnstone, J. A. Johnstone Read Free Book Online Page B

up as well, and started toward the left side of the ship when he emerged on deck from the top of the ladder, but one of the sailors reached out for him.
    “Here, lad,” he said. “You’ll be starboard with us.”
    “Thank you,” Duff said, thankful not only for the information but also because the sailor had spoken to him.
    When all had come topside, they gathered toward the stern and looked up toward the quarterdeck. There, Duff could see the helmsman still at the helm, his hands securely on the wheel spokes, his eyes staring straight ahead. The vessel was leaned over, racing swiftly before the wind, and Duff could hear the noise of the water streaming back from the bow. He could also feel the pitch and fall of the deck beneath him as it rolled with the swell of the sea. He was glad that he had been to sea before, because he was confident that he would be able to complete this voyage without getting sick.
    The captain stepped up to the rail forward of the quarterdeck, then looked down at his gathered crew.
    “Men, we had a good crossing coming over, and I expect an even better crossing on the return. You know me well by now, and you know that when you perform your tasks as you have been assigned, you find me a pleasant enough captain. Shirk in your tasks and, I assure you, you will find me most unpleasant indeed. Mr. Norton?”
    “Aye, sir?”
    “Post the watches.”
    “Aye sir.
    “Port watch topside, starboard belowdecks.”
    Duff went belowdecks with the rest of the starboard watch, and when he saw a couple of them stretch out their hammocks for a nap, he decided to do the same thing.
    One week at sea
     
    If Duff thought the life of a sailor at sea would be easy, he was quickly disabused of that notion. The ship’s officers found much for them to do, and while Duff initially thought it might merely be a means of making work to keep the sailors busy, he soon realized that all the work was necessary. Whenever any of the standing rigging became slack, a condition that seemed to be constant, the coverings had to be removed, tackles tended to, and tension put on the rigging until it was drawn well taut. Afterward, the coverings had to be replaced, which, Duff learned, was no easy thing to do.
    Even the work caused work, because one rope could not be adjusted without requiring an adjustment to another. One could not stay a mast aft by the back stays without slacking up the head stays. In addition to the constant attention to the ship’s rigging, there was greasing, oiling, varnishing, painting, scraping, and scrubbing to be attended to, plus furling, bracing, making and setting sail, pulling, and climbing. Duff found that there was much to occupy him.
    “Them that sails on the steamships don’t do all this work,” a sailor named Kelly said.
    “They ain’t hardly what you would call sailors neither,” Jiggs said. “Them that sails on the steamships ain’t nothin’ but passengers goin’ along for the ride. You ain’t a real sailor ’lessen you are on a wind ship. Sails, that’s where the word sailor comes from.”
    Those who were close enough to overhear the exchange laughed, but the work continued.
    As the voyage progressed, Duff discovered that the business of running the ship was much to be preferred over the long, silent hours of night watch. That was because it was during those hours of night watch when he most felt the pain of Skye’s death.
    More than one time he was sure that he heard her voice.
    “Duff, my darling Duff, I am here. Can you not see me?”
    Duff would turn with a small cry of joy and a smile on his face. But the smile would be replaced by an expression of sorrow as he realized that what he was hearing was the whisper of the wind from the sails or the murmur of water slipping by the hull, and no more.
    Sometimes, too, he would see her flashing eyes in the green light of the luminescent fish that would keep pace with the ship. Such experiences were bittersweet for him. On the one