Privateer's Apprentice by Susan Verrico Read Free Book Online Page A

powerful master,” he says.
    Embarrassed to have been caught gulping my food like a starving street urchin, I don’t reply.
    â€œEnjoy the food whilst we have it,” the Captain says. He walks over to the ship’s railing and looks out over the water. A gull appears and then is gone.
    â€œThat bird means trouble,” Solitaire Peep says.
    â€œIt might have lost its way,” the Captain says.
    â€œPut a mark upon my word. We’ll have company soon.” Peep taps his cutlass. “Mayhap by morning.”
    â€œAssign extra men on lookout tonight to be sure,” the Captain says, turning to leave. Seeing me, he frowns. He whispers something to Solitaire Peep that I can’t hear. Peep points toward the hatch. “Get below, boy. You’ll need extra sleep tonight to help heal your wound. Find Cook and tell him I said to make you a pallet in storage. From here on, you’ll care for the animals.”
    â€œYes sir,” I say, curious as to what the bird’s presence means and why Solitaire Peep’s mood has darkened. Whatever the reason, I feel grateful to be sent below to rest. I want nothing more than to lie down somewhere and close my eyes. Clutching the empty bowl, I follow orders and go below.

CHAPTER SIX
    I have been locked in storage since yesterday when I was ordered below. It is a larger room than the one in which I was first kept. Two portholes, one on each side of the room, shed moonlight upon my bed—nothing more than a burlap sack stuffed with dried corn husks, but warmer than the damp planking.
    I slept soundly last night and most of today, waking only when I heard Cook ringing the bell to call the crew to eat. It’s as if my body sought to reclaim the hours I lay awake in the alley, unable to sleep for fear that the spiders and rats would feast on me when I closed my eyes.
    This morning, Cook left a cloth containing biscuits and cheese inside the door. I did not wake for his morning visit and he did not come again until late today, when the sun began to streak red through the portholes. He brought my supper, a trencher of salted pork with beans and rice and a biscuit to sop the broth. I begged him to leave his candle so that the room would not be so dark, but he ignored my pleas, claiming I would set the ship ablaze. When he left, I heard the rattle of keys and the click of the lock. I think it odd that they confine me when there is nowhere to run except for the sea. I thinkthat in the Captain’s eyes I am a thief, one who must be kept under lock and key.
    Cook’s goat sleeps nearby and good company she is, for her snores dull the silence. A half-barrel holds two rosy piglets that are amusing, but stink fiercely. A tapping of tiny claws along the walls tells me that mice linger near.
    I know not where we sail, only that each minute takes me farther from Charles Towne. My heart is heavy over the troubles I’ve left behind and those that surely lie ahead. Plagued by thoughts of Charles Towne and all that has happened, I close my eyes and drift back to sleep.
    At dawn, the hens begin laying. The commotion wakes me, and I sit up and watch, though the sight is not new to me. Cackling loudly, they wiggle down into straw-lined crates and puff their feathers as they drop their eggs. When they have settled, I count two dozen, including a cracked one whose shiny liquid oozes onto the straw.
    I stretch and yawn loudly, feeling stiff from tossing about. The ship turned and dipped throughout the night, and several times I rolled off my pallet onto the hard floor. Once I got up to relieve myself, but after stumbling around in the darkness, I discovered Cook had forgotten to leave a bucket. Now, my stomach aches and rumbles.
    The goat bleats softly and staggers to her feet. She releases a long yellow stream into the straw. When she finishes, she comes to me and nuzzles at my side. I reach down and scratch her head. “Are you wondering how you came to be