Waste Not
Chapter 14
After it was made doubly sure that the ship was not about to sink underneath their feet, Barbossa retired to his cabin, and he gave Elizabeth strict orders that he was not to be disturbed. She, therefore, was the one to go over the charts with Bohai that night.
"We are much farther north than we should be," the Chinaman remarked, regarding the stars.
"How much time do you suppose we've lost?" she asked.
"Likely a week or so."
"That long? We're really that far off course?"
Bohai shrugged slightly. "It was a powerful storm. And the Pearl is known for her speed. We just went quickly in the wrong direction."
"Well, see that we set a course in the right direction now. And we'll need to make port sometime soon, don't forget."
"Aye."
"The captain is not to be disturbed," Elizabeth insisted, planting herself firmly in front of Barbossa's doorway.
"He's been in there for nearly two days," retorted the deckhand, "How do we know he's even still alive?"
"You'll just have to take my word for it."
"I want to see for myself." He took a few steps forward.
Elizabeth pulled her gun on him. "Walk away."
The man chuckled. "All of the powder is wet from the storm. Your gun is useless."
She glanced at her gun, then suddenly she flipped it in her hand and clubbed him in the jaw with the handle. "Useless indeed," she muttered. Holstering the pistol then, she made ready to draw her sword as the man struggled to right himself. Though stunned and knocked to his knees, he still looked aggressive.
His disposition changed somewhat, however, when he saw the captain's doors open and Barbossa step out. The pirate lord addressed his crewman with a smile. "Ah, Mr. Skreever, I thought that was you I heard."
The man moved to stand then, but froze again as the captain spoke.
"Best to stay as yeh are for now, sailor."
Skreever came to rest again on both knees and watched nervously as Barbossa stepped forward. By now, most of the crew was watching.
"I must say I'm rather surprised," the captain said loudly, "considerin' all we've been through together, that there still be such disrespect towards me first mate." He lazily drew his sword and looked over the length of the blade. "We had this trouble before. Ended up with a man dead." He rested the blade on Skreever's shoulder, his demeanor nonchalant, but his message strong and clear. "Would anyone care to tell me why such mutinous moments as these tend to occur?"
Nobody spoke.
"Because I be rather curious. Is it because she's a woman? Is it because she's me wife?"
"Or could it be that some of you are just back-talking, mutinous dogs?" Elizabeth chimed in.
"Aye, now there be a curiosity!" Barbossa continued, "The point bein'…how many men have to wind up dead before yeh learn a bit o' respect?" He ran the sword gently across the man's face as he spoke.
"Mutiny? Never!" Skreever said shakily, "I was only concerned for you, Captain. You have never stayed in your cabin so long."
"I be flattered by yer concern, but I know well enough the symptoms o' bein' hot-blooded and lookin' for trouble, and I've little tolerance for it aboard my ship." He began to raise his sword.
"Don't kill him, Captain," said Elizabeth, "We need all hands to repair the damage."
He sheathed the blade and pointed to his wife. "Look at the face o' the one who just saved yer life, Mr. Skreever, and pay respect." He put his hand heavily on the man's shoulder and leaned down to him. "Talk back to her like that again, and I'll make yeh drink yer own blood."
The man swallowed anxiously. There was a tense pause. The silence was broken by the voice of the lookout.
"Ship, ahoy! Off the starboard bow!"
Barbossa quickly shifted his attention, first to the lookout and then to the sea. Striding to the bow, he pulled out his spyglass. There was indeed a ship in the distance.
"What is it?" asked Elizabeth.
"It's a Chinese junk. We be in Mistress Ching's waters." He turned to the crew. "To battle stations! But hold yer fire! Give nothin' away! All swords at the ready!"
Everyone scrambled. Elizabeth turned to join them, but Barbossa grabbed her arm.
"If it goes badly for us, don't be drawin' attention to yerself," he told her, his eyes serious, "I'm not inclined to be handin' yeh over."
She set her jaw and nodded.