From time to time, the men were drummed to the main deck to witness punishment. So far, there had been four floggings, but Hadrian knew the victims only by name. In the afternoon, the men received their grog, a mixture of rum and sugar water, and in the evening, the master-at-arms went about making certain all fires were out.

Most days were the same as the one before, with only a few exceptions. On make ’n’ mend day, the captain granted the crew extra time in the afternoon to sew up rips in their clothing or indulge in hobbies such as wood carving or scrimshaw. On wash day, they cleaned their clothes. Because using freshwater was forbidden and there was no soap, shirts and pants usually felt better after a day working in the rain than they did after wash day.

By now, everyone knew his responsibilities and could perform them reasonably well. Hadrian and Royce were pleased to discover they were not the only novices aboard. Recently pressed men composed nearly a quarter of the crew. Many came from as far away as Alburn and Dunmore, and most had never seen the ocean before. The other men’s bumbling presence, and Wyatt’s assistance, masked Hadrian’s and Royce’s lack of experience. Now both knew the routine and their tasks well enough to pass on their own.

The Emerald Storm continued traveling due south, with the wind on its port quarter laying it over elegantly as it charged the following sea. It was a marvelously warm day. Either they had run so far south that the season had yet to change, or autumn had blessed them with one last breath of perfect weather. The master’s mate and a yeoman of the hold appeared on deck at the ringing of the first bell to dispense the crew’s grog.

About four days into the voyage, Royce finally found his sea legs. His color returned, but even after more than a week, his temper remained sour. One contributing factor was Jacob Derning’s constant accusations about his culpability in Drew’s death.

“After I slit his throat, I can just drop the body into the sea,” Royce casually told Hadrian. They had collected their grog and the crew lay scattered about the top decks, relaxing in the bright sunshine. Royce and Hadrian found a cozy out-of-the-way space on the waist deck between the longboat and the bulkhead where the sailmaker and his mates had left a pile of excess canvas. It made for a luxurious deck bed from which to watch the clear blue sky with its decorative puffs of clouds.

“I’ll dump him at night and he’s gone for good. The body won’t even wash up onshore, because the sharks will eat it. It’s better than having your own personal vat of lye.”