Sea Witch by Helen Hollick Read Free Book Online Page B

Defoe, back in England, so his prattling letters mention, cannot wait to meet Selkirk here. He intends to write his experiences down as an adventure story. Says he’ll call it Robinson Crusoe to protect the innocent involved in the tale. Absurd eh? Ha, ha!” He had a habit of laughing at his own poor jests.
    Selkirk had the manners to blush. “Nothing to tell. I had a falling out with the captain and demanded to be put ashore for m’own safety and sanity. Hadn’t bargained on another ship not coming by the sooner.”
    “Now my book,” Rogers interrupted, “I shall call A Cruising Voyage Round the World: first to the South Seas, thence to the East Indies and Homeward by the Cape of Good Hope. What think you of that? A title to stir the vitals, eh?”
    Politely, Jesamiah agreed. What was it the harbourmaster had said?
    “ I wish to God he’d stay his mouth, and clear off back to England .” With that, too, Jesamiah found himself agreeing. He so wanted to talk to the quiet and polite Dampier, but Rogers was not the sort to heave to in a following wind. Nothing was going to stop him from bending a new ear to his account of heroic privateering.
    “It is interesting to hear you talk so freely of your commission,” Jesamiah said at one point, while Rogers was issuing a refill of wine. “There are more than a few who insist privateering has much in common with piracy.”
    Rogers spluttered indignation. “Good God man, pirates are the dregs of this Earth! Rogues the lot of ‘em. I took only ships at war with my country, and every last gold and silver piece shall go back to m’sponsors.” He cleared his throat and brushed at the stains he had splashed over his embroidered waistcoat. “Of course, I shall receive my share of the profits. I carry about two million on board, ye know.”
    “I would not let any self-respecting pirate hear you boast that fact too often,” Jesamiah said quietly, with a deceptively charming smile.
    “They do not scare me, son. Let ‘em come! Let ‘em try at me! I’d wipe my arse with them, as easy as pissing.”
    “Even so…”
    “The difference between a pirate and a privateer, my boy, is that of a matter of honour. The former has no idea of the meaning of the word.”
    Jesamiah was beginning to weary of Roger’s arrogance. “What is the Government to do with all these privateers who carry the excuse of a Letter of Marque, such as yourself, when this current skirmish with Spain is over? As it soon shall be. It is only a matter of time for a treaty of peace to be signed. What do the politicians expect the privateers to do then? Shuffle off home to sit with their feet in the hearth, smoking pipes of heavily taxed tobacco? Or go on the Account?”
    “Pirates?” Rogers repeated. “Swabs, the lot of them. Washed up, drunken, swabs. I have no concern for pirates, they hold no threat for me.”
    Jesamiah was tempted to prove this blustering idiot wrong by suggesting to Malachias they board one of those ships sitting idle in the harbour and strip it of everything of worth. Ah, Rogers was right, no pirate would think of attacking him. Pirates tended to pick on the weak, the stragglers, the undefended merchantmen. Those ships in the harbour? Too many guns and experienced gunners.
    “Nevertheless,” William Dampier suggested after a silent pause, “Pirates do roam these African waters, and they are a threat. The Christina Giselle was attacked, was she not?”
    Rogers barked a derisive guffaw. “Attacked, aye, but the cowards came off worse, no match for her superiority. That’s it with pirates, y’see, no balls, no guts.”
    To hide his expression, Jesamiah sipped at the wine, a nasty feeling sinking heavily into the pit of his stomach. He wished he had asked for rum now. He felt his throat run dry, the colour fade from his face. “The Christina Giselle ?” he asked, hoping they did not hear the unnatural croak that came out.
    Rogers answered in his gruff, no-nonsense manner.