Stone

Chapter 51 – The flogging

By noon Jason had a plan. He hoped that it wouldn’t embarrass the captain, and he knew it wouldn’t subject an innocent seaman to the lash. He arrived on deck and found that the seaman was already lashed to the whipping post, and a big steersman was holding a whip.

Apparently, several of the ship’s crew had seen Kilmer knock free the rope and blame the seaman. Word had spread and there was a dangerous muttering among the crew. It was as close to mutiny as the ship had ever been.

“I claim the right to do the whipping myself,” Jason said, taking the whip from the steersman. The muttering lessened.

“What?” shouted Master Kilmer. “He is but a boy. He cannot possibly handle a whip.”

With that Jason flicked the whip out, and it hit Kilmer on the cheek, drawing a fine bead of blood from the scar. The master winced and put his hand out to staunch the blood.

“I think that proves the boy can handle a whip,” the captain said. “It his right to conduct the discipline of his own man. Five lashes have been proscribed.”

Jason took the whip and walked up to the seaman. He stroked the whip across the man’s back, more of a massage than a whip. “One,” the boy called. He then stroked the whip softly again, and this time the entire ship’s company yelled “two”. The muttering had stopped entirely.

“Three,” the crew shouted at the next soft lash.

“This is preposterous,” Master Kilmer shouted. “That is not a lashing.”

Jason flicked the whip again, and a second small cut appeared on the cheek of the master, just below and parallel to the earlier one.

“Is that more to your liking,” the boy said. “Let me tend to my own business and you can mind your own. Unless you would like another sample.”

“Four, five,” the crew shouted gleefully as Jason made his last two lashes. The man was loosed from the whipping post and men were thumping his back, something that would have been painful had a normal lashing occurred.

“Captain,” Kilmer shouted. “The mate has unjustly struck me. I demand satisfaction.”

“Want another beating from the boy?” an unseen sailor shouted. Kilmer looked in the direction of the comment, hoping to see who spoke, but the men in that area just shuffled about to conceal the man.

“I find that the blows were justified,” the captain said. He had heard the muttering from the seamen, and the entire story was passed on by Kull, Jason’s master. He admired the way the boy had solved a sticky situation.

Kilmer just glared with murderous eyes at the boy, who had twice embarrassed him in front of the entire crew. He must die, the master decided as his face turned redder and redder.

Jason led his shift from the deck. They would go on duty in 11 hours, and most would sleep now after lunch. He went to his little cabin, where the smaller boy, Kookla couldn’t stop talking about the whipping. Thankfully for Jason the smaller boy was called to a duty, and Jason could sleep.

It was later in the afternoon when Kilmer popped into the galley, where Cookie had the evening meal in preparation. He was mixing up another batch of grog when the master arrived.

“Captain wants yer in the map room to report,” Kilmer said. Cookie looked down at the unlocked barrel of sugarwine that he was about to ladle into the grog water. “Now,” the master added. “I’ll watch the booze for you till you get back.”

Cookie headed off. None of the four men working on prepping the meal could see the barrel, so Kilmer went over and ladled out two helpings of the pure liquor into a tin container, which he hid in a niche just outside the galley.

Cookie came back irate. “Captain said he didn’t need me. Just a waste of time when we are very busy.”

“Sorry Cookie,” he said. “He asked the carpenter in for a report, so I assumed he wanted one from you too.” Cookie looked down his barrel and didn’t notice the level was a half inch shallower. He took out a single ladle of the sugarwine: enough for the entire crew, and then locked the barrel up again.

Kilmer left, and then went to the niche and recovered the stolen liquor. He felt he needed liquid courage to enable him to do what he wanted. The boy would be on deck a good hour before midnight, and Kilmer intended to throw the small boy overboard: an easy task for a man his size. He knew that someone would see, and he would return to port in chains, if he was not hung outright for murder. But his hatred for the boy was such that he was willing to take the risk. If he had a drink or three before.

Jason woke from his afternoon sleep completely refreshed just before sunset. He walked over to a bundle of spare sails sitting by the gunwale that made a comfortable seat. He took out a piece of wood and his knife and started whittling while it was still light enough. On his first voyage a sailor taught him to whittle and was disgusted when the boy became better than him in a few hours, thanks to his magic knife. Today the young mate decided to make a doll for Sissy. Emily was nearly 10, and no longer was so enthralled by dolls, but Sissy still loved them, dressing them up and playing with them.

Her dolls never had names: the girl was unable to remember names, so they were each named Dolly while she played with them. Jason smiled in the anticipation of her face when she saw the present. Sissy was not wise, but her smile would be a mile wide when someone gave her something.

Suddenly the knife hummed, and Jason dropped into battle mode. Looking up he saw someone approaching. It was hard to decipher the face while in the wireframe of battle mode, but soon Jason recognized Master Kilmer lurching towards him. It made sense: the master was the only man on the ship who didn’t like Jason. The man tottered badly as he walked towards the boy.

Suddenly he toppled forward, breaking into a run to keep from falling down. Then the ship lurched, and the sailor was too drunk to compensate, and he tottered and fell over the side of the ship. The master heard “Man overboard. Throw out a ring,” just before he hit the water.

After shouting, Jason sprang into action, and dove over the railing before the master even was in the water. He still had his knife in his hand, and it seemed to pull him down quickly. About 12 fathoms down Jason caught up with the sinking, unconscious master, and grabbed his collar.

Almost immediately the knife reversed its action and seemed to be pulling them up: a good thing, since the boy would have been unable to handle the big man’s weight otherwise. They broke the surface and Jason saw that a ring had been tossed and was able to haul the man to it. That was when he heard the thing he least wanted to hear: “Sharks coming,” one of the men in the crow’s nest sang out.

Jason quickly put the unconscious man’s hands through the ring and used a bit of rope from his pocket that was destined to be doll’s hair to tie them together. “Heave away boys,” he called, and as he saw the master’s feet break water Jason looked to the stern of the ship and saw shark fins approaching. Not one, but three in a line.

The knife hummed a warning: dive. Jason didn’t hesitate and did so, with the shark passing directly over him. He stuck the knife into the fish just behind the jaws and held on as the motion of the beast resulted in a deep cut, with entrails falling out.

The boy hit the surface in time get a quick gulp of air, and then the second fish appeared. This time the fish dove down a bit, aiming for his legs. Jason plunged the knife into the shark’s eye, and it went in nearly to his shoulder. He twisted the knife, as Kalo and his father had taught him, and tore apart the animal’s brain. Then there was a second or two until the third shark appeared, and this time the knife told him to dive again. Again he made a massive slit in the belly of the fish.

“More sharks a-coming,” the watch called out.

“Send down a ring, for the Goddesses sake,” the boy yelled up. “Get the one from the other side of the deck if you have to.” Apparently, no one had thought to do that as several sailor’s tried to free the ring from the master. Almost a minute later Jason saw a ring hit the water near him at the same time as he spotted a dozen fins approaching. The boy nearly leapt out of the water grabbing the rope on the ring as he put one foot into the ring. “Haul for all you’re worth,” he sang out, and a dozen hands started pulling on the rope, getting Jason clear of the sharks just in time.

Strong hands grabbed him as he reached the rail, and hauled him onto the deck, where he fell. Other sailors had gotten Kilmer free of the ring finally, and four carried him to sick bay. Another four wanted to do the same with Jason, but he shook them off, telling them he was okay, just spent from the action. He rolled over to his side, and a small pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist.

“I thought you were dead,” Kookla sobbed. “There was all that blood in the water. Then your head popped up and you jumped on the rope.”

None of the other men were crying, but you could see in their eyes they were just as concerned as the smaller boy. Jason hauled himself to his feet and went to the rail, where he saw a dozen sharks in a feeding frenzy, cannibalizing the fish Jason had killed. The sharks had not eaten in days since the hurricane had robbed them of their normal food, and they were ravenously devouring their mates.

“Report, second mate,” the Captain called from the stern deck. Jason still had his arm around Kookla and pushed the boy behind him so the captain would not see his son crying onboard. Jason walked a few paces towards Keenstone while other seamen concealed the boy. He was more a mascot on board than a crew member, but most of the men liked the tyke.

“First Master Kilmer fell overboard,” Jason said. “I went over to get him. He is in sick bay still unconscious I think.” Jason looked back at one of the men who had carted the master off, and the man nodded.

“I heard word of sharks,” the captain said.

“There were three that I killed. The men hauled me up before the others came.”

“’e’s a shark slayer, that one,” an unidentified sailor called out and that was how Jason earned a nickname.

“How is it that the master fell?” the captain asked.

“The ship lurched, and he went in,” Jason explained.

“How does a seaman of 20 years not hold the deck,” Keenstone said. “Very strange.”

“This might be the reason,” Cookie said, coming forward holding the tin, now drained of sugarwater. “The master came by earlier and sent me to you. There is a smell of sugarwater here, full strength it seems. I suspect the master took some and used it to get drunk.”

Keenstone frowned. As Captain Snow had feared, liquor on board had caused problems. He would have to do something to prevent other sailors from getting ahold of the sugarwater, now that they knew it was possible. “Water down all the sugarwater to the level of grog,” he commanded. As soon as possible. Tonight, if you can.” The cook scurried off.

“Are you all right to continue your duties tonight?” the captain asked Jason. “It will be midnight in an hour.” Jason looked up and noted that stars were starting to appear. The captain looked at the other two masters: Kertle was on duty, and Kull would go on as soon as Jason took over.

“I’m putting the masters on storm watch until we decide on Kilmer. He may not be restored to his rank. Drunkenness on board is a major infraction. We are a few days out of port, so Kull will take the day shift after finishing tonight, and then Kertle will take the next two shifts.”

Jason was fully recovered when it came time for the mates and their masters to patrol the deck. There were several items out of place due to the rescue, including a half-carved doll and whittling remains. Jason grabbed the doll and ordered Kull to have the men get the other things shipshape as soon as the men came on.

Once that was done, there was a delay in getting the lessons started while the men interrogated Jason about his adventure. Then there was another lesson on the alphabet, followed by another session on the constellations. Jason wondered what he would do if it was a cloudy night. For that matter, if it ever rained the writing lessons would be washed up.