The Leviathan’s Eye Chapter 4

With only a few days left on our voyage, I was on watch in the crow’s nest, perched high atop the ship. I didn’t fear the heights and gladly climbed the mast to savor the solitude. That night, the wind was calm. A blanket of stars wrapped around me while I sat with paper and charcoal, mapping shortened stars in the constellation Breve.

Strange glints of light struck my spyglass. Glimmers of moonlight danced across its lens. An ominous fleet of rowboats and rafts filled with glowing cooking pots rushed toward the ship. I climbed down the nets as hundreds of smoldering cooking pots collided with the hull. Dark, billowing smoke consumed the ship, stealing the air from my lungs and filling my nose with tar. I choked and tripped. Outstretched, flailing arms grasped a thick dangling rope, and I rang the bells with all my might.

The salts rushed across the deck, coughing and gagging as they stumbled to their battle stations. Swirling smoke drifted past our ship, followed by the eerie clang of metal biting into the polished planks. Volleys of muzzle flashes revealed waves of masked, hooded men pouring over the rails. The cacophony of battle ensued. What a brutal symphony it was. The ring of steel against steel. The percussive cracks of pistols and rifles. Men were screaming, shouting, and shitting. I pressed my back against the main mast, thrusting my rusty blade into anyone wearing a hooded cloak. I hadn’t any skill with a sword, but I knew how to kill.

My shipmates fought valiantly, but bravery wasn’t enough. They fell by the dozens, leaving me to wonder when I would join them on the bloody planks. Then silence fell upon the ship.

A burly figure, his nose poking out from beneath an orange beard, ascended the stairs to the quarterdeck. He tapped his curved blade against the railing and cleared his throat. “I, Captain Meyer, claim this ship by right of conquest. If any officer still alive wishes to challenge my claim, make yourself known.”

For a moment, the surviving salts seemed to regain a bit of hope. Doss was the only officer alive. He was excellent with a sword. The best most of the salts had seen.

Doss saluted Captain Meyer with his nimble blade and stood on guard. Their sharp steel clashed. Captain Meyer was no match for Doss’s skill with a sword. He resorted to fists and grappling, throwing himself upon Doss and bashing my captain’s skull into the planks. It was a fight for which no one could adequately train. Doss was better with a sword, but his gentleman’s demeanor would be his downfall. Honor dies in duels.

Captain Meyer cut the buttons from Doss’s uniform and threw the body overboard. Then his crew rounded up and shot the old salts. The younger of us found ourselves in chains, without a chance to die or choose a side. Cloaked men forced us to carry crates of food, weapons, and anything of value or practical use. They marched us single file off the Elsbury and into rowboats. We sat with pistols to our heads. Callous hands pressed upon the oars. My arms shook. Every muscle burned while I rowed through the night.

In the morning, a butchered, velvet sun dripped over the horizon. We maneuvered past the mountainous coast of an island. Rugged cliffs loomed above as we approached the enemy’s hidden ship. I counted five decks outfitted with more sails and cannons than I had ever seen. Climbing aboard that awful ship was my last glimpse of sunlight. When I stepped on the splintered planks, three gruesome men dragged me below the decks and chained me to the floor inside the lower hull.

Every time the ship swayed, clanging chains echoed against the slick, slimy planks. A hundred helpless people struggled for breath. They could taste the stink in the air; I could too.

“Where are we?” I said to a girl chained on the floor next to me.

“Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “They’ll cut your tongue off if they hear you.”

“Who are they?” I said. “What are they doing to us.”

“You’re on a slave ship; whisper better.”

“Yesterday, I thought I had escaped slavery. And here I am wearing irons again. How did you end up in this putrid place?”

“The king’s sailors raided my home and sold me. I’ve never been a slave.”

“You were a free citizen? I would say you’re lucky, but luck doesn’t lead a person to a place like this.”

“Can I ask you for a favor?” she whispered.

“A favor?” I rattled my chains. “What could I possibly do for you?”

“The slavers think my name is Olivia, but if I die, I want someone to remember the name my mother gave me, Zerelda Giganti.”

“How about a favor for a favor? My slave name was Pietro. The salts called me Richard. But if I die, I want someone to know my grandmother named me Achille Marozzo.”

“The salts? Are you one of the king’s sailors?”

“No, but I was on a royal warship. It’s a long story. Do we have a deal or not, Zerelda Giganti?”

“We do,” she tucked her knees into her chest. “I hate the king.”

“The king doesn’t care if you hate him,” I said the wrong thing and tried to change the subject. “Is there any way off this ship other than a bullet?”

“The lucky ones get a bullet. A girl named Julia Gramsci used to sit next to me. She told me if you’re healthy, you’ll work in the fields. If you cause trouble, you’ll be a miner. If you’re pretty, you’d rather die.”

“I won’t be a slave, and neither will you. How many guards have you seen?”

“I haven’t seen anyone. I’m blind, always have been.”

“My grandmother was blind,” I said. “Everyone underestimated her until they realized she could spear a fish better than anyone. Tell me about the ship’s crew. How many voices have you heard? Do they have a schedule?”

“I’ve heard three voices. It’s always the same three men who sort the living from the dead. Without the warm sun on my face or crickets chirping, I can’t tell how many days it takes for them to check on us. I’ve tried to keep track, but you’ll understand soon. There’s no difference between day and night down here.”

“How do they check to see who’s alive?”

“They beat us with a club and throw the dead overboard.”

“We have to endure the beating,” I said. “I’m an excellent swimmer. We must seem dead, be strong.”

“You just got here,” Zerelda said. “Don’t talk to me about strength. The hull was empty when I arrived.”