Read Online Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run by K.D. Mason - Free Book Online
Authors: K.D. Mason
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that ship. I know of the captain and he sails for your uncle.”
“Then why do you wear sword and pistol?”
“ ’Tis the way of the sea.” Then he turned away from her and lifted his glass in the direction of the other ship.
Christine understood that she had been dismissed and that no further conversation would be forthcoming. She retreated back to her corner of the deck still not understanding why he was so armed when his words offered no hint of concern.
As the other ship approached, she could see that its hull was black and the sails that had seemed so white and pure from afar were actually well worn, patched, and even to her unseamanly eye, dirty. The ship had an air of hard use about it that bordered on abuse. The two ships were now less than a quarter of a mile apart, and having hove to, each ship’s crew watched the other with curious intensity.
The other ship lowered a boat and Christine watched as a half dozen men, stroke by stroke, drew near. Their arrival was announced by a great commotion, but she could no longer see them since she was not in a position to see over the side. The Captain remained motionless in the center of the deck.
The first man to climb over the rail onto the deck was a stocky, dangerous looking man. His hair and beard were unkempt, and his clothes were as worn and patched as the sails on his ship.
The Captain made no move toward him, nor did he step toward the Captain. While he waited for the five other men to climb over the rail and join him on the deck, his dark, rat-like eyes nervously darted about, in much the way a wild animal would when placed in a new setting. Christine held her breath, both fascinated and terrified by this man. Then, just as the last man climbed over the rail, his eyes found hers and her heart went cold. His gaze seemed to bore deep into her and she spun away to hide from his sight, gasping for breath as she did so.
“Welcome aboard,” she heard the Captain say. She turned back, and saw that she was no longer of interest to him as he was now focused on the Captain. The smile on his face seemed forced and their greeting, while cordial, was not the greeting of two old friends. Words were being spoken, and as they spoke, he withdrew an envelope from his coat and handed it to the Captain. The Captain only glanced at it before putting it in his coat. She could not hear what else was said. However, after a moment, the stranger turned and spoke to his men. Then, turning back to the Captain, he nodded and they headed below.
After an awkward moment of silence, the crews of both ships became one amid much fuss and bother. Their gestures and the sounds of their voices spoke more of a shared common bond, than did the cold cordiality of the two captains. Again, Christine became uneasy when she saw several heads turn in her direction. From the many gestures and laughter that ensued, she knew that she was the object of their attentions. She turned and retreated toward the safety of her cabin below.
Once below, she had to pass the Captain’s door, which was ajar, and as she did so, the sounds of serious conversation could be heard. Again her curiosity was piqued, so she paused outside the door. Hardly daring to breathe, she looked in while straining to hear what was being said. The guest had his back to the door and the Captain stood opposite, holding what she presumed to be the letter in his hand. She tried to understand the look on his face as he stared at him. Was it shock? Dismay? Disbelief? She couldn’t be sure. Their words were muffled, but the few she did understand spoke of unrest and disharmony. She was about to move closer when the sounds of voices about to descend the stairs gave her a start and she quickly fled to her cabin lest she be caught.
She pressed her door shut and, leaning against it, inhaled deeply and held her breath lest the sounds of her breathing lead to her discovery. She could hear footsteps approaching. She prayed they would pass by. They
“Then why do you wear sword and pistol?”
“ ’Tis the way of the sea.” Then he turned away from her and lifted his glass in the direction of the other ship.
Christine understood that she had been dismissed and that no further conversation would be forthcoming. She retreated back to her corner of the deck still not understanding why he was so armed when his words offered no hint of concern.
As the other ship approached, she could see that its hull was black and the sails that had seemed so white and pure from afar were actually well worn, patched, and even to her unseamanly eye, dirty. The ship had an air of hard use about it that bordered on abuse. The two ships were now less than a quarter of a mile apart, and having hove to, each ship’s crew watched the other with curious intensity.
The other ship lowered a boat and Christine watched as a half dozen men, stroke by stroke, drew near. Their arrival was announced by a great commotion, but she could no longer see them since she was not in a position to see over the side. The Captain remained motionless in the center of the deck.
The first man to climb over the rail onto the deck was a stocky, dangerous looking man. His hair and beard were unkempt, and his clothes were as worn and patched as the sails on his ship.
The Captain made no move toward him, nor did he step toward the Captain. While he waited for the five other men to climb over the rail and join him on the deck, his dark, rat-like eyes nervously darted about, in much the way a wild animal would when placed in a new setting. Christine held her breath, both fascinated and terrified by this man. Then, just as the last man climbed over the rail, his eyes found hers and her heart went cold. His gaze seemed to bore deep into her and she spun away to hide from his sight, gasping for breath as she did so.
“Welcome aboard,” she heard the Captain say. She turned back, and saw that she was no longer of interest to him as he was now focused on the Captain. The smile on his face seemed forced and their greeting, while cordial, was not the greeting of two old friends. Words were being spoken, and as they spoke, he withdrew an envelope from his coat and handed it to the Captain. The Captain only glanced at it before putting it in his coat. She could not hear what else was said. However, after a moment, the stranger turned and spoke to his men. Then, turning back to the Captain, he nodded and they headed below.
After an awkward moment of silence, the crews of both ships became one amid much fuss and bother. Their gestures and the sounds of their voices spoke more of a shared common bond, than did the cold cordiality of the two captains. Again, Christine became uneasy when she saw several heads turn in her direction. From the many gestures and laughter that ensued, she knew that she was the object of their attentions. She turned and retreated toward the safety of her cabin below.
Once below, she had to pass the Captain’s door, which was ajar, and as she did so, the sounds of serious conversation could be heard. Again her curiosity was piqued, so she paused outside the door. Hardly daring to breathe, she looked in while straining to hear what was being said. The guest had his back to the door and the Captain stood opposite, holding what she presumed to be the letter in his hand. She tried to understand the look on his face as he stared at him. Was it shock? Dismay? Disbelief? She couldn’t be sure. Their words were muffled, but the few she did understand spoke of unrest and disharmony. She was about to move closer when the sounds of voices about to descend the stairs gave her a start and she quickly fled to her cabin lest she be caught.
She pressed her door shut and, leaning against it, inhaled deeply and held her breath lest the sounds of her breathing lead to her discovery. She could hear footsteps approaching. She prayed they would pass by. They
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