Farrel was looking at the assembled crew. The mob was bustling now, and started forward in ones and twos. That seemed to be a sign, and soon the whole assemblage was moving up. It wasn't the whole crew, but a good chunk of it, twenty or so. Enough for the Vote to work.
Mordecai stepped back, giving the pirate next to him a significant look.
Farrel looked indecisive. Then he frowned fiercely. He threw down the rope he'd been coiling and stood up straight. As the first of the crew came close he turned and stalked up the deck with them at his back. The young man Mordecai saw back in Haventown marched up toward Natasha.
Mordecai smiled. Perfect.
The crew passed him by. Mordecai moved around their edge, staying close to the gunwales. He moved up where he could easily see the bow, and what was about to happen there.
Natasha was alone at the bow railing. She peered down at the temple, not even noticing the approach of the crew. Once the assembled pirates came to a halt, she still didn't seem to notice.
Guye Farrel stood at their lead. He stepped forward dramatically. "Captain," he said. "Your attention is required."
Natasha straightened and turned around. "What now?" she asked, irritated. "What—?"
The captain of the Dawnhawk fell silent as she saw the assembled pirates. "What is this?" she asked.
"I speak for the crew," said Farrel. "We've had enough. Turn this ship back to Haventown, or we'll call a Crewman's Vote."
The pirate princess stared at him. "You're not serious." She shook her head at the assemblage. "Enough tomfoolery. I've decided that we're going to send down a shore party—"
An immediate cry rose up. "This is madness!" yelled someone at the back of the crowd. "We've already got the treasure, let's leave!"
"Aye!" shouted another. "We've barely enough coal to make it home as it is."
Konrad pushed to the front. "Captain," he said. "We are not meant to be in this city. There is something here, something powerful and hexed. We must go."
"Oh, quiet, all of you," said Natasha. "The Governor's Lantern is worth a fortune by itself, and it's somewhere in the city below. I mean to have my cake and eat it too." She smiled. "Let Fengel do better than that."
Farrel stepped defiantly forward. "No. No more, pirate princess. You've had your fun, had your play at captain. But you're not old Euron Blackheart, and never will be. We're calling a Vote."
The mob quieted. Even Mordecai blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected the fool to go that far.
Natasha narrowed her eyes. In one smooth motion she dropped a hand to her cutlass, drew it, and struck. The steel of her blade sang out against the leather sheath before landing with a meaty thud. Farrel didn't even have time to scream. The greenhorn pirate fell to the deck, hands twitching up at the blade buried in his neck. Natasha hadn't decapitated him. Not quite.
The pirate captain put her boot on his chest and yanked her blade free. "To have a Vote," she hissed, "you've got to have someone else who can replace me. Now get back to your posts before I—"
The moment couldn't have been timed more perfectly. Farrel's murder shocked the crew. Not because they cared about him, or were surprised at his death; Mordecai had slain more than a few recalcitrant crewmen. But because Natasha was so obviously ignoring them all.
"I volunteer," Mordecai said, stepping into the small space at the front of the bow. He turned and spoke out to the crowd. "I'll get us back to home port safely, with no more of this foolishness." The assembled crew stared at him in surprise. Mordecai was Natasha's right-hand-man, her loyal dog.
"You treacherous snake," hissed Natasha. "You'd go this far?" She hefted her blade again.
Quick as a flash Mordecai had his own sword in hand. "See how far she's gone? We have to do this. Back me, and I'll portion out her share among the rest of you when you're back in port."
"I'll see you dead for this," Natasha snarled.
The pirate captain raised her blade and came at him with a hacking blow. Mordecai parried it and stepped aside. The crowd pressed back to give them room.
No need to drag this out. He needed to remind the crew that he was confident and capable. Short and brutal then.
Mordecai stepped forward and lashed out. Natasha parried the blow returned it. Mordecai caught the blade with his own and then whirled down and around, binding her blade and then disarming her in a smooth motion. Natasha's sword went sailing over the edge of the rails.
She stepped back, eyes wide. He held the tip of his sword to her throat. Natasha put her hands up, glaring daggers at him.
"There," he said to the crew at large. "You see how she is. Unfit to lead. I call for a Crewmen's Vote! All displeased by the captaincy of Natasha Blackheart vote aye."