Facing the Music
 
The captain of the Strega De Lo Mare stared into the storm, its turbulence matching the chaos of her thoughts. The words of the fleet owner's letter dropped into her mind again, their unending patter much like the deluge of rain now sweeping the deck:

"Your record speaks for itself; your skill in evading and dealing with these pirates is to be commended, as is your dedication to your position as Captain..."

Lightning streaked across the dark sky, its dramatic flash followed closely by the tremendous rumble of thunder.

"I'll be joining your ship in the port of Rosia, Gibralter on the fourth of September..."

Today. Today, Captain Taylor Godwin would meet the owner of the Strega DeLo Mare for the first time, knowing she had deliberately deceived him. Would she leave the meeting as the Captain? The man signed his correspondence as "Sicilian"; considering the reputation of that group of people, would she even survive the meeting? She gripped the handle of her cutlass, its sheath, as always, attached to the belt at her waist.

"He'll not be killing his best Cap'n!  Even the swankiest Lord has better sense than that, ye know," the first mate's rough voice, interrupted Taylor's thoughts.

"Mr. Spratt!  You're not at the wheel?" the captain asked, surprised.

"Turned her over to Sharky, Cap'n. He's got the devil's own luck at navigatin' a storm..." the wiry little man waited for Taylor's confirming nod before continuing. "An' I thought ya could use some help spottin' rocks as we go inta the harbor, seein' as ya sent Jackie below."

"'Tis his first season aboard, Spratt. He didn't belong in the crow's nest in this storm, and you know it!"

"He did look a mite green," chuckled the wizened old sailor. "But he's got ta learn somehow."

"I fail to see how falling overboard will teach him much! You really don't like him, do you, Spratt?"

"I don't trust 'im, an' that's a fact, Cap'n. But we needed a body, an' his looked able enough," said Spratt, his face twisted in disgust.

"He's been a good worker, Mr. Spratt, in spite of your constant abuses. Give him the benefit of the doubt." Taylor spoke firmly, leaving no doubt of her authority.

"Aye, Cap'n"  said Spratt, his discomfort at having displeased the captain evident in his face. Struggling to find a more comfortable topic, at least for him, he asked "Why not just get your brother ta do the meetin', Cap? We could say you were sick ta give 'im time ta get here, an' that high-falutin' Lord won't know the difference. He won't be on board long enough ta figure out he's sailing with a land lubber - them lords don't like ta rough it fer long."

"My brother is not a landlubber!" Taylor bristled a bit at the insulting term. "He's simply ...  inexperienced."

"Well, he's not the sailor you are, Cap'n" said Spratt, diplomatically.

"This is not his problem, Mr. Spratt, it's mine. I should never have involved him in the first place. If I had done the interview myself..."

"Ye wouldn't hae been hired, Cap, an' that's a fact! Them useless lords can't see beyond their own noses! He'd ne'er hae looked beyond the fact that you're a ... a lass, Cap'n!"

"A lass who can run a ship, Mr. Spratt," Taylor said firmly.

"Aye, Cap'n, that you can! An' sail circles 'round them pirates, too!  But
he'd not have looked past your ... petticoat, sir!" Spratt interjected.

"Well, let's hope he can see past it now," Taylor said.

Spratt's expression darkened a bit. "Cap'n, mebbe we should hope he can't!"

Taylor's attention was caught by something else. "Spratt! There's a new sandbar off the port - tell Sharky to head two degrees starboard! Now!"

"Aye, Cap'n," Spratt shouted, already on the run.

Taylor continued to stare into the storm, readying herself for her meeting with the fleet owner. Tonight, she would finally face the music.

Cheryl D'Angelo-Gary 97