Red Seas Under Red Skies: The Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Book Two (Gentleman Bastards 2)

A day had passed. The air was still warm and the sun still beat down with palpable force when not behind the clouds, but the seas were higher and the wind stiffer. The Red Messenger lacked the mass to knife deep into the turbulent waves without shuddering, and so the deck beneath Locke’s feet became even less of a friend.

Jabril - recovered from his close engagement with a wine bottle - and a pair of older sailors approached Locke as he stood by the starboard rail late in the afternoon, holding tight and trying to look casual. Locke recognized the older sailors as men who’d declared themselves unfit at the start of the voyage; days of rest and large portions had done them good. Locke, in light of the ship’s understrength complement, had recently authorized extra rations at every meal. The notion was popular.

‘What do you need, Jabril?’

‘Cats, Captain.’

The bottom fell out of Locke’s stomach. With heroic effort, he managed to look merely puzzled. ‘What about them?’

‘We been down on the main deck,’ said one of the older sailors. ‘Sleeping, mostly. Ain’t seen no cats yet. Usually the little buggers are crawlin’ around, doin’ tricks, lookin’ to curl up on us.’

‘I asked around,’ said Jabril. ‘Nobody’s seen even one. Not on the main deck, not up here, not on the orlop. Not even in the bilges. You keepin’ ’em in your cabin?’

‘No,’ said Locke, picturing with perfect clarity the sight of eight cats (including Caldris’s kitten) lounging contentedly in an empty armoury shack above their private bay back at the Sword Marina. Eight cats sparring and yowling over bowls of cream and plates of cold chicken.

Eight cats who were undoubtedly still lounging in that shack, right where he’d forgotten them, the night of the fateful assault on the Windward Rock. Five days and seven hundred miles behind them.

‘Kittens,’ he said quickly. ‘I got a pack of kittens for this trip, Jabril. I reckoned a ship with a new name could do with new cats. And I can tell you they’re a hell of a shy bunch - I myself haven’t seen one since I dumped them on the orlop. I expect they’re just getting used to us. We’ll see them soon enough.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Locke was surprised at the relief visible on the faces of the three sailors. ‘That’s good to hear. Bad enough we got no women aboard until we get to the Ghostwinds; no cats would be plain awful.’

‘Couldn’t tolerate no such offence,’ whispered one of the older sailors.

‘We’ll put out some meat every night,’ said Jabril. ‘We’ll keep poking around the decks. I’ll let you know soon as we find one.’

‘By all means,’ said Locke.

Seasickness had nothing to do with his sudden urge to throw up over the side the moment they were gone.