At first Stede isn’t sure whose voice it is - he’s on deck with Oluwande, who’s valiantly trying to teach him the difference between a clove and rolling hitch at Stede’s insistence.
“Did you hear that?” Stede asks, mid-knot. “Is there another woman on the ship, besides Jim?”
“Well Cap, Jim is -”
“Steeeeede!”
It’s unmistakable this time, because while it’s a high-pitched, shrill scream there’s a tint of Ed’s voice underneath. He’s up and moving immediately. “Ed?” he shouts, scrambling down to his quarters. A hundred possibilities occur to him at once - Ed ambushed by brigands, run through by British mercenaries, double-crossed by that bastard Izzy returned from exile. He bursts through the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges. “Ed!”
His co-captain is standing on Stede’s desk, which would strike Stede as odd if he wasn’t beside himself with fear. Ed turns to him, eyes wide. “Stede!” he cries. Stede’s fists are raised in what he hopes is a show of strength against the inevitable adversary that awaits him.
“Where is he, Ed?”
“Over there,” Ed says, crouching down to point towards the bed. “Hurry!”
Stede steels himself for a grisly encounter that may well spell his end, only to find empty air when he spins around to face it. “Show yourself!” Stede sputters, somehow more frightened now than when he arrived.
Suddenly Ed clambers back to his feet on the desk. “There! It’s right there!”
“It…”
And then he sees it. Stede is an amateur entomologist at best, but it hardly takes training to recognize a house spider when he sees one. The poor thing is frozen on the wall, hiding in plain sight.
“Ed…” he begins, rather dumbstruck.
“Kill it!” Ed shrieks.
Stede turns to look at him. “Ed, you’re not seriously scared of this little fellow, are you?”
“It’s a crawly,” Ed supplies, as if that explains it.
Stede tries and fails to suppress a grin. “Shall I make him walk the plank, then?”
“Kill it with fire!”
“Plank it is,” Stede says. He scoops up a glass from the chest near his bed, then tears a blank page from his journal. In a move practiced from living in an old house in the country, Stede slides the paper under the spider’s legs and catches him in the cup. “A fearsome foe,” he declares, brandishing the captured beast.
“Be careful,” Ed hisses, which has no reason to make Stede’s chest tighten with fondness.
“If I don’t return, tell the crew to avenge me.” Ed remains on the desk as he leaves the room, solemnly watching after him as if preparing for his unavoidable task.
“Everything okay, Cap?” asks Olu, who followed him as far as the deck stairs.
“A near thing, but I think we’ll survive,” Stede replies, holding the paper and cup out in front of him. Olu eyes it with a raised eyebrow, but Stede supposes that weeks on this unorthodox ship have inured him to ghastly events such as these. Stede reaches the deck railing and rests the paper on the wood. He lifts the glass and expects the spider to scurry off as soon as it’s able, but it lingers on the paper for a few moments, seemingly bewildered. “Off you go,” Stede tells it. “You’re not so scary.” As if on cue, the spider scurries down the railing towards the bow of the ship. Stede returns to the captain’s quarters, having lived to tell the tale.
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