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"Wake up, Dr. Jack."
I sat up in my hammock. Thunder rolled and rain pelted the deck above. "What is it? A fire?"
The ship's carpenter shook his head. "A trial."
Dread gripped me. Unlike Royal Navy hierarchy, Vox populi vox dei and the common sense of the British workman ruled a pirate ship. But this could end in duels and blood. Please let this be some small flogging offense, I thought.
But every Baker was on deck, heedless of the weather. Penang Dan, a new crewman from the Wasp, stood glowering in the centre, his arm bleeding; this was no malapert caught stealing someone's duff ration. The men's silence added to the grotesque horror of the scene; and above it all stood Cap'n Shear-Lock at the helm, his face as expressionless as that of our wooden figurehead.
"Dan Morgan," Angel the bos'n called. "You attempted to stab the cook's mate in the back."
The 9-year-old Jun grinned, holding a knife; he'd clearly wounded Dan defending himself. Rage filled me at the underhanded attack.
"That foul little black rat killed Milverton!" Dan spat.
"So you joined us to avenge your late captain, by attacking a child but not the commander who'd ordered Milverton dead." Shear-lock's voice was stone.
I raised my saw-hand. "I struck Milverton's death-blow, Dan. Choose. Bonesaw, or bullet?"