Much had changed topside in the short time it took to retrieve their belongings. The bodies, both merchant crew and privateer, had been removed, thrown over the side Dent assumed. Here and there crew from the captured ship were kneeling, scrubbing blood and gore off the deck.
So, Dent thought, they didn't kill every man onboard. It seemed the privateers weren't that stupid. Now at least there would be a few able hands to bring the ship to port. Of the women there was no sign, something that relieved Dent while making him feel a little cowardly for that relief, not that there was a damned thing he could do about it anyway.
"Warrior!" Dent heard from aft and above. Looking up at the piloting platform he saw the rat-faced First mate looking at him. There was little doubt where the call had come from. Striding the length of the deck he stopped just below the platform and bowed.
"Yes?" he said after raising his head up. "What may I do for you?"
Rat-face stared at him for a moment or two and in a voice with very little outward emotion said, "I am Captain of this prize and you will address me as such."
"Yes, Captain. What can I do for you?" Dent repeated.
"Captain Vel orders ye to board the Death Grip immediately. Yer to report to the Bo'sun for berthing. After evening meal he will send for ye. Do ye understand?"
"Perfectly, Captain. By your leave I go to do Captain Vel's bidding at once." Giving another short bow to Rat-face he turned and walked to the side where the two ships were still tied together.
The sails on the ships had been reefed and stowed, becalming both vessels. Three large planks had been laid between the two ships. Two were being used for traffic to the Death Grip the other for return travel. Most of the men moving to the privateer were burdened with loot or stores of some kind whereas the men returning were generally empty-handed. Waving for Nesho and Sosho to follow him Dent made his way to the closest gangplank. Just as he was about to step up and onto the board he was pushed aside and only just regained his balance before almost tumbling into the water separating the ships.
"Watch out, ye little shit!" Looking up Dent faced a man almost as large as Vel but without the beard and with considerable less muscle. In fact his fat made him look more like a walrus than the bear his captain resembled.
"Ahah, I must not have seen you up there already, my apologies," Dent smiled wanly as he picked himself up and brushed imaginary dust off his undertunic.
"Listen to the little faggot," fatso said laughing to a couple of sailor standing behind him. "Sure talks purdy, don't he?" Turning back to Dent his voice turned to a growl, "Stay out of my way, sweet lips! When ya see a real man coming yer way ya stand aside." Looking over at Sosho and Nesho his growl was replaced by a leer.
"So these are the bitches they been talking about. Bit skinny for me liking but the tits look like they may have some cushion. Don't worry, honey. It won't be long afore this pissant is out of the way and a real man will mount ye."
"Know any 'real men' then?" Dent said dryly. "I certainly don't see any around here."
"Why you little shit, I'll break ya in two..." Fatso reached his hand out to grab Dent but the breastplate defeated his first try. Casually Dent lifted his left arm allowing the big man to grab it and pull him in.
Dent looked at the hand holding his arm and then up into the leering face.
"I suggest you release my arm immediately," Dent said softly, the hint of a smile on his lips.
"Or you'll do what, you little prick?"
"First, I'll cut off your balls," emphasizing his statement with a small thrust of the dirk that suddenly appeared in his right hand. "Or if you, as I suspect, have no balls then I'll jamb this up your cunt and into your fat belly."
Aware of his exposed position Fatso dropped Dent's arm and took a step back. "Ya can't draw steel on crew!" he bellowed. "Ye all saw him! H' drew steel on me!"
"Garth, leave that one alone," said one the other sailors standing behind him. "He's the one that killed nine of ours all by himself. He's a warrior! Just leave it be."
"I'll have you before the mast for this, I will!" Face as red as a beet, Garth turned and stumbled away, the faces of other sailors in the area following as he went.
Turning to the remaining two sailors Dent gave a short bow and extended his arm indicating they should go before him.
The one giving Garth the warning grinned and waved him off. "Nay," he said, "ye were here first. Besides it were worth it to see Garth taken down a peg or two. But just a little friendly advice: Garth be one who seems to hold hard to his grudges and he's not above a little midwatch payback, if ya know what I mean."
"I do and thank you for the warning. While I won't go out of my way to create enemies I have no intention of allowing myself to be indisposed by others."
"Ye are a fancy talker at that," the sailor grunted. "Comes from too much book learning if ya ask me, but can't say but that yer polite enough. Names Seth, senior pilot for the Death Grip. Heard ye be looking for the Bo'sun, well get across and I'll take ye to him." Waving his hand in a shooing motion he waited until Dent and the women were across before ambling across himself.
Dent jumped to the deck of his new ship, alertly scanning the area before turning around to help Nesho and Sosho down to the wooden deck. His brief glance told him volumes about his new home and the people he was going to be living with. The ship was incredibly clean. Even though the battle had taken place on the little merchant vessel he had expected remnants of the preparations to still be evident, but there were none. Everything was in place and tidy as if it were awaiting inspection. Men streamed across the gangplanks bringing back loot or returning for another trip. It was evident this was no ordinary pirate ship; this was a military vessel in all but uniform and flag, and a well-disciplined one at that.
Dent looked back at the two women. Nesho was looking around with frank curiosity while Sosho stood still, eyes seeing nothing but the deck in front of her feet. Nesho caught Dent looking at her and her lips curled up in a very slight, very tentative smile. Raising his eyebrows he tried to impart a look of confidence, a confidence he didn't feel in the least.
Jumping lightly to the deck Seth waved toward the stern of the ship. "Bo'sun Meltath should be around the bridge be my guess. With the First taking the prize he be acting First and should be setting watch while the Captain's occupied. Come with me and we see if we be finding him."
Without waiting to see if they followed the rangy pilot started walking quickly aft. Nesho started after him but Sosho stood rooted as if she hadn't heard anything that had been said. Dent came up to her and putting his arm around her gently pulled her with him following the receding sailor. At his gentle tug her face came up, eyes wide, and the terror evident.
"It's all right, sweet cake," he whispered using the pet name her mother used when she was a young girl. "We need to go find where we'll be staying. Just follow me; everything will be fine."
"Oh, Dent," she said, her voice quivering slightly, "I am so scared. What will they do to us? Where will we go?"
"You are doing wonderfully!" Then leaning over he whispered, "I'm scared too. We just can't let them see our fear; be brave. As to where we go, we'll see when we find this Bo'sun." Squeezing her to him he guided her down the deck after the pilot and his aunt.
The piloting area of the Death Grip wasn't a platform like the Pinya's but instead was positioned above the main deck on top of what looked like a small house set at the stern of the ship. A set of real steps instead of a ladder led up to the top of the little house. Pilot Seth and Nesho were standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting for the other two to catch up.
"Be best if yer women stay here til the Bo'sun be ready to see ye." Dent nodded and gently pushed Sosho over to a space on the deck he estimated would be out of the way of general traffic. Nesho joined her as they both sat down.
"Stay here, you two. I'll be back pick you up in a bit." Dent wanted it to sound like a command if any were listening but not so harsh as to hurt his already overly distraught cousin. The pilot started up the steps and Dent followed. Going up the stairs he turned back to look and saw Nesho leaning over talking softly to Sosho holding Sosho's trembling hands in hers.
Cresting the top of the stairs Dent immediately saw the layout of the Death Grip's piloting area was very familiar. A large wheel in the center, tied off now with nobody manning the station, and a post holding what should be the ship's compass positioned close by. Seth was standing next to a sailor who must be the Bo'sun over by the railing where the activities on both ships could be observed. Dent stopped at the head of the stairs waiting for some indication that it was all right to approach.