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Authors: T. Davis Bunn
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through me,” Falconer told him. “I count them as a true gift.”
“Just so. In this case, I saw how you had saved me and my ship by your strength, your experience, and your selfless acts. You were the one who had the knowledge I lacked.” Harkness had eyebrows that protruded like gray feathers above an intense gaze. “No doubt you also have familiarity with such pirates as Ali Saleem.”
“To my great shame,” Falconer agreed, his voice low.
“The Lord of heaven makes good from the worst we carry, if we only seek His will. And I feel the best that can come of my foul greeting is to accept your leadership in what lies ahead.”
“I am honored by your trust, sir.”
Harkness motioned to where the lieutenant occupied the table’s far side. “Young Bivens is more than a fine officer. He is my proteégeé. I would suggest you trust him as do I.”
Falconer nodded in the young officer’s direction. “Thank you. Yes, of course.”
A communal peace settled upon the four men—Falconer, Harkness, Bivens, and Reginald Langston. Two silver candelabra bathed the cabin in a warm glow. The cuddy, the ship’s dining area, was an alcove off the captain’s day cabin. The plank flooring was covered in stiff canvas painted a pattern of white and black squares. The wood of the walls gleamed richly in the candlelight, as did the furniture—a table strewn with maps and instruments, a leather sofa, a revolving tray crammed with books, a violin case, a master’s chair. Two lanterns swung gently with the ocean’s rise and fall. Beyond the rear windows glinted a moonlit sea.
Reginald Langston cleared his throat and spoke at length for the first time that night. “I have a confession of my own to make. When Falconer first determined to eat with the crew and steerage, I intended to confront Captain Harkness and order him to invite Falconer immediately. But there came to me an inner warning as clear as the prayers you describe. So I held back, instead delivering the message as Falconer had wished. When the captain simply accepted Falconer’s desire…”
“As odious a deed as any I have committed.” Harkness’s voice was low as he stared into the candlelight.
But Reginald waved it impatiently away. “That is behind us now. The apology has been offered and accepted. I bid you good gentlemen to heed my words. When you responded as you did, sir, I again started to issue an order of my own. Once more I felt the divine warning, and remained silent.”
Reginald peered across the gleaming light at Falconer. “The Bible speaks of David’s three mighty men. His most trusted officers, who risked their lives to bring him a gift of water in the desert. I now can see that Falconer’s deed has drawn you together into more than just three fine officers. You are a powerful band.” Reginald nodded slowly. “Whatever happens, I know with utter certainty that I am gifted with the finest and most trustworthy force available to me on this earth.”
Harkness let that settle for a long moment, then turned to Falconer. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to close the evening in prayer.”
Falconer leaned over his hands. He stared at the fresh linen bandage wrapped around his right palm. Another scar to add to his vast assortment. But never for a finer reason than this. He closed his eyes.
“O Lord, our God, we give you thanks…”
At that point, his throat and chest clenched up tight. He could not continue. He bowed further still, until his forehead came to rest upon his hands.
It was the first time since Ada Hart had become ill that he had said those words. Thanks be to God. Spoken them, and meant them as well.
He had not wept at her passage. He had not wept at her funeral. Now, as he crushed his forehead into his hands, he felt his face scalded by the rush of tears.
The silence held a good while. Finally Harkness thumped the table with both fists. “As fine a prayer as any I have ever heard. What more do we need to hear
“Just so. In this case, I saw how you had saved me and my ship by your strength, your experience, and your selfless acts. You were the one who had the knowledge I lacked.” Harkness had eyebrows that protruded like gray feathers above an intense gaze. “No doubt you also have familiarity with such pirates as Ali Saleem.”
“To my great shame,” Falconer agreed, his voice low.
“The Lord of heaven makes good from the worst we carry, if we only seek His will. And I feel the best that can come of my foul greeting is to accept your leadership in what lies ahead.”
“I am honored by your trust, sir.”
Harkness motioned to where the lieutenant occupied the table’s far side. “Young Bivens is more than a fine officer. He is my proteégeé. I would suggest you trust him as do I.”
Falconer nodded in the young officer’s direction. “Thank you. Yes, of course.”
A communal peace settled upon the four men—Falconer, Harkness, Bivens, and Reginald Langston. Two silver candelabra bathed the cabin in a warm glow. The cuddy, the ship’s dining area, was an alcove off the captain’s day cabin. The plank flooring was covered in stiff canvas painted a pattern of white and black squares. The wood of the walls gleamed richly in the candlelight, as did the furniture—a table strewn with maps and instruments, a leather sofa, a revolving tray crammed with books, a violin case, a master’s chair. Two lanterns swung gently with the ocean’s rise and fall. Beyond the rear windows glinted a moonlit sea.
Reginald Langston cleared his throat and spoke at length for the first time that night. “I have a confession of my own to make. When Falconer first determined to eat with the crew and steerage, I intended to confront Captain Harkness and order him to invite Falconer immediately. But there came to me an inner warning as clear as the prayers you describe. So I held back, instead delivering the message as Falconer had wished. When the captain simply accepted Falconer’s desire…”
“As odious a deed as any I have committed.” Harkness’s voice was low as he stared into the candlelight.
But Reginald waved it impatiently away. “That is behind us now. The apology has been offered and accepted. I bid you good gentlemen to heed my words. When you responded as you did, sir, I again started to issue an order of my own. Once more I felt the divine warning, and remained silent.”
Reginald peered across the gleaming light at Falconer. “The Bible speaks of David’s three mighty men. His most trusted officers, who risked their lives to bring him a gift of water in the desert. I now can see that Falconer’s deed has drawn you together into more than just three fine officers. You are a powerful band.” Reginald nodded slowly. “Whatever happens, I know with utter certainty that I am gifted with the finest and most trustworthy force available to me on this earth.”
Harkness let that settle for a long moment, then turned to Falconer. “Perhaps you would be kind enough to close the evening in prayer.”
Falconer leaned over his hands. He stared at the fresh linen bandage wrapped around his right palm. Another scar to add to his vast assortment. But never for a finer reason than this. He closed his eyes.
“O Lord, our God, we give you thanks…”
At that point, his throat and chest clenched up tight. He could not continue. He bowed further still, until his forehead came to rest upon his hands.
It was the first time since Ada Hart had become ill that he had said those words. Thanks be to God. Spoken them, and meant them as well.
He had not wept at her passage. He had not wept at her funeral. Now, as he crushed his forehead into his hands, he felt his face scalded by the rush of tears.
The silence held a good while. Finally Harkness thumped the table with both fists. “As fine a prayer as any I have ever heard. What more do we need to hear
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