sloop? She seems a fair sort of ship.â
Diablo glared down at Miller, and then his gazewandered over the faces of all the crew. I shivered.
âAlgiers,â spat one of the Sicilians. âThere is nothing but pox and sand in Algiers.â
âWho said that?â Diablo roared. He brandished his sword above his head.
None of us moved. The captain moved slowly and quietly down the steps and onto the deck. Without speaking, he circled the crew, staring into their faces. Each man quailed under his glare. One by one, they cast down their eyes, clasped their hands before their bellies, and hoped he would not take his revenge on them. At last, Diablo came to a halt next to the Sicilian. He did not look at him. When he spoke, it was in a whisper.
âWho said that?â
There was no answer.
Like a sudden squall, Diablo lashed out at the Sicilian, slashing at him with his cutlass and thumping him to the ground with hard, thwacking punches. The Sicilian raised his hands before his face, crying out for mercy, for the Holy Mother to save him.
âNo one will save you,â Diablo screamed. âYou parrot-fish! You question me? Who dares to question me?â
The Sicilian lay slumped on the deck, his face badly cut and his hands clasping a bloody wound in his side.
âYou!â Diablo grabbed another man. âThrow him over the side!â
It took only a moment for the man to react, but it was too slow for Diablo. Again he lashed out, striking a blow on the sailorâs arm so hard that he, too, fell to the boards.
Diablo spun around, facing the rest of the crew. âAny more questions?â he shouted. âGood. Iâll be in my cabin. McGuire, you have your orders. Get your crew on board the sloop and be out of my sight before sunset.â
There was silence as he pushed through the crowd and disappeared below. The men stood and stared at each other in disbelief. No one went to help the two wounded men, in case the captainâs wrath was a disease that could be passed on.
âLetâs get them below,â Cook murmured in my ear. He crouched down beside the Sicilian, but it was too late. One of Diabloâs blows had severed a vein in his neck, and he was already dead. I tried not to look at him too closely. Cook picked up the other casualty as if he were a child.
âCome, lass, weâd be better off in the galley.â
âNot you, Cyg,â said Jem. âYouâre coming with us.â
âOn the Mermaid ?â I hadnât dared hope for that.
âI donât think so!â Cook blustered, plonking the poor injured man down on a heap of ropes as if he were a sack of potatoes.
âI asked for a cook, and Diablo said I could take her,â said Jem, firmly. âSheâll have to work hard though, weâre short-handed. Youâll be crew as well as cook and galley hand, Cyg. It wonât be easy.â
âI donât mind.â
My whole body felt lighter and cleaner than it had for weeks. Iâd be free of Diablo, closer to home, sailing on the Mermaid . Valletta was a big city, so Iâd heard. Easy enough to give them the slip and run off. Steal a boat, maybe. It was a few daysâ sail from Malta toSanta Lucia, but I could do it. If I had to. If I was free.
But Cook had crossed his arms. âOver my dead body.â
âWhatever you say.â Jem wasnât the sort of fellow to be put off by an irate cook. He just walked aft, calling over his shoulder, âLend us some spices as well, while youâre at it, Cookie, I canât stomach that Egyptian mutton.â
âWell, Iâll be dumblustered,â spluttered Cook. âI never did hear of such a thing, not in all my born days.â
âItâll be all right, Cookie,â I assured him.
âDonât know whatâll become of you, once youâre out of my sight. Dearie me. Anything could happen.â
âI could be kidnapped or