Apprentice To The Sorcerer

Of course she got the captain’s cabin. I would have felt genuine rage over that had the end result not pleased me so well. Jack came down to sleep with us, taking the only other hammock free, right above mine. I still burned the midnight oil when he came down, a blanket under his arm and a book in his hand. I greeted him politely, but didn’t open myself up to conversation. I still felt furious over Arabella Bishop and I had only just gotten to a chapter on painkillers.

Jack hung his weapons and hat on a spare peg and climbed into his hammock. I resumed reading. I knew he’d fallen asleep when his book started to slide into the floor. Managing to catch it before it hit the floor, I closed it and propped it up on his clothes peg. The spine read Log. Wondering if it was his own log or Barbossa’s, I took it up again and had a look.

*********
We took Port Royal as we wished. What we sought came to us instead, in the form of a Miss Elizabeth Turner. She wears the cursed gold around her neck. She is a pretty lass, and clever. If I could perform properly I would make advances upon her, but touching her would only make my hunger sharp and lean. A shame, that.
*********

I shut the book and put it back where I’d originally stowed it. I didn’t want to know how Barbossa had lusted over me. Granted, he had a powerful presence, but he had repulsive manners. Not that my crewmates didn’t share that quality, but I didn’t want to know about their lusts either. Jack, on the other hand…

Thinking that I would have to do something about Miss Bishop, I put my own book away and doused my lamp.

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Out of the twenty remaining ex-slaves, only two died from their condition. I felt pleased over this. Before and after my shift aloft I visited them, checked their health, and tried to explain how to take care of their wounds. Mokulu took it upon himself to accompany me on my second visit, which helped matters a great deal. He helped me to hand out the doses of painkillers, puzzled over my use of a fresh spoon for every patient.

“Just something I’m trying,” I said. “Something we can’t see must be in dirt for it to make a wound infected. Sometimes sick people make healthy people sick, so maybe that’s the same thing that makes dirt so dangerous. By not sharing spoons I might lessen the chance of infecting people in many different ways.”

Mokulu sniffed his bottle before measuring out a dose for a man with a head wound. “What is dis?”

“Opium and wine,” I answered.

“But dey are sick, not wanting de poppy,” he argued.

“But opium kills pain,” I said. “To a lesser degree, so does wine. You put them together and they are stronger than either of their key parts.”

Mokulu gave me half-smile, the first sign of a smile I’d ever seen on him. “Dis make sense,” he said approvingly. “And both, dey keep a man content with sitting.”

“Right,” I said, happy he got my point so quickly.

“Dis medicine you do, I want to learn also,” Mokulu confessed. “But I do not have education.”

“But you can do something,” I said quickly. “Anyway, what good did my education do me? How about Ragetti? You can be a pirate doctor too.”

“Will you show me?” Mokulu asked, his deep brown eyes quite serious. “I not be a pirate forever. Someday I settle with woman and make babies, somewhere many of my people live. More difficult to get monkey to ignore cat than find medicine for black man.”

“I’ll ask the captain if we can learn it together,” I offered. “Maybe you’ll see things I don’t.”

Mokulu waited until we were finished to reply. Drawing me aside, he looked both ways to ensure our privacy, then stared directly into my eyes. “You are good,” he said solemnly. “You work hard, you not shirk duty, you heal de sick and you help wit’ any’tin’. You not complain. You loyal to Captain and kind to crew. You de best pirate we take aboard, ever.” He put his hand on my shoulder and lowered his voice still further. “I would be your brother in blood.”

I stared at him. “You mean, you want me to become your blood brother?”

“Yes, if this not offend you.” Mokulu said. “As brother I always be beside you in heart.”

Tears came to my eyes. I turned away quickly, wiping them away as fast as I could. I felt honored to be asked to be Mokulu’s brother. He was a good man and a noble man, dignified and steadfast. His loyalty to Jack could not be questioned.

But I would be lying to him if I let him make me his brother. I was a woman.

“Do not cry,” Mokulu said, worried.

“I’m honored you asked me,” I answered shakily. “But Mokulu, I cannot.”

“Because of de bad ‘tings in de air and de dirt?” he said. “You are afraid I make you sick?”

“No, no,” I said. “I’d be willing to risk that.”

“Den what be the reason?” Mokulu asked.

I looked straight at him. “I’m a woman, Mokulu,” I said softly. “I could be your sister, but not your brother.”

Mokulu stared at me the same way I’d stared at him. For a long moment I worried he would react badly. He had no expression on his face. His eyes swept over me three times.

“Den sister you be,” he said, showing his teeth in a big smile. “But de mark be for brother.”

I smiled in relief. “You won’t tell anyone?”

“Does de captain know?” he asked.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “No one does. No one would let me be here if they knew I was a woman.”

Mokulu leaned his head back on the wall. His eyes drifted. He sighed. “I will not say,” he vowed. “You not here to do harm. You want to be man, you be man.” He drew out his chest. “You come to me tonight. I will have ready what make you my brother.”