Birds of Prey (19 page)

‘Let me remind you of your own words, sir. “I am completely out of patience. Sixty-five days are enough for me and my brave fellows?”’

‘My words, Franky?’ The Buzzard shook his head, ‘Your ears must have played you false. The wind tricked you, you did not hear me fairly.’

Sir Francis laughed lightly. ‘You waste your talent as Scotland’s greatest liar. There is no one here for you to amaze. Both Richard and I know you too well.’

‘Franky, I hope this does not mean you would try to cheat me out of my fair share of the spoils?’ He contrived to look both sorrowful and incredulous. ‘I agree that I was not
in sight of the capture, and I would not expect a full half share. Give me a third and I will not quibble.’

‘Take a deep breath, sir.’ Sir Francis laid his hand casually on the hilt of his sword. ‘That whiff of spice is all the share you’ll get from me.’

The Buzzard cheered up miraculously and gave a huge, booming laugh. ‘Franky, my old and dear comrade in arms. Come and dine on board my ship this evening, and we can discuss your
lad’s initiation into the Order over a dram of good Highland whisky.’

‘So it’s Hal’s initiation that brings you back to see me, is it? Not the silver and spice?’

‘I know how much the lad means to you, Franky – to us all. He’s a great credit to you. We all want him to become a Knight of the Order. You have spoken of it often. Isn’t
that the truth?’

Sir Francis glanced at his son, and nodded almost imperceptibly.

‘Well, then, you’ll not get a chance like this again in many a year. Here we are, three Nautonnier Knights together. That’s the least number it takes to admit an acolyte to the
first degree. When will you find another three Knights to make up a Lodge, out here beyond the Line?’

‘How thoughtful of you, sir. And, of course, this has no bearing on a share of my booty that you were claiming but a minute ago?’ Sir Francis’s tone dripped with irony.

‘We’ll not speak about that again. You’re an honest man, Franky. Hard but fair. You’d never cheat a brother Knight, would you?’

S
ir Francis returned long before the midnight watch from dining with Lord Cumbrae aboard the
Gull of Moray
. As soon as he was in his cabin
he sent Oliver to summon Hal.

‘On the coming Sunday. Three days from now. In the forest,’ he told his son. ‘It is arranged. We will open the Lodge at moonrise, a little after two bells in the second dog
watch.’

‘But the Buzzard,’ Hal protested. ‘You do not like or trust him. He let us down—’

‘And yet Cumbrae was right. We might never have three knights gathered together again until we return to England. I must take this opportunity to see you safely ensconced within the Order.
The good Lord knows there might not be another chance.’

‘We will leave ourselves at his mercy while we are ashore,’ Hal warned. ‘He might play us foul.’

Sir Francis shook his head. ‘We will never leave ourselves at the mercy of the Buzzard, have no fear of that.’ He stood up and went to his sea-chest.

‘I have prepared against the day of your initiation.’ He lifted the lid. ‘Here is your uniform.’ He came across the cabin with a bundle in his hands and dropped it on his
bunk. ‘Put it on. We will make certain that it fits you.’ He raised his voice and shouted, ‘Oliver!’

His servant came at once with his housewife tucked under his arm. Hal stripped off his old worn canvas jacket and petticoats and, with Oliver’s help, began to don the ceremonial uniform of
the Order. He had never dreamed of owning such splendid clothing.

The stockings were of white silk and his breeches and doublet of midnight-blue satin, the sleeves slashed with gold. His shoes had buckles of heavy silver and the polished black leather matched
that of his cross belt. Oliver combed out his thick tangled locks, then placed the Cavalier officer’s hat on his head. He had picked the finest ostrich feathers in the market of Zanzibar to
decorate the wide brim.

When he was dressed, Oliver circled Hal critically, his head on one side, ‘Tight on the shoulders, Sir Francis. Master Hal grows wider each day. But it will take only a blink of your eye
to fix that.’

Sir Francis nodded, and reached again into the chest. Hal’s heart leaped as he saw the folded cloak in his father’s hands. It was the symbol of the Knighthood he had studied so hard
to attain. Sir Francis came to him and spread it over his shoulders, then fastened the clasp at his throat. The folds of white hung to his knees and the crimson cross bestrode his shoulders.

Sir Francis stood back and scrutinized Hal carefully. ‘It lacks but one detail,’ he grunted, and returned to the chest. From it he brought out a sword, but no ordinary sword. Hal
knew it well. It was a Courtney family heirloom, but still its magnificence awed him. As his father brought it to where he stood, he recited to Hal its history and provenance one more time.
‘This blade belonged to Charles Courtney, your great-grandfather. Eighty years ago, it was awarded to him by Sir Francis Drake himself for his part in the capture and sack of the port of
Rancheria on the Spanish Main. This sword was surrendered to Drake by the Spanish governor, Don Francisco Manso.’

He held out the scabbard of chased gold and silver for Hal to examine. It was decorated with crowns and dolphins and sea sprites gathered around the heroic figure of Neptune enthroned. Sir
Francis reversed the weapon and offered Hal the hilt. A large star sapphire was set in the pommel. Hal drew the blade and saw at once that this was not just the ornament of some Spanish fop. The
blade was of the finest Toledo steel inlaid with gold. He flexed it between his fingers, and rejoiced in its spring and temper.

‘Have a care,’ his father warned him. ‘You can shave with that edge.’

Hal returned it to its scabbard and his father slipped the sword into the leather bucket of Hal’s cross belt, then stood back again to examine him critically. ‘What do you think of
him?’ he asked Oliver.

‘Just the shoulders.’ Oliver ran his hands over the satin of the doublet. ‘It’s all that wrestling and sword-play that changes his shape. I shall have to resew the
seams.’

‘Then take him to his cabin and see to it.’ Sir Francis dismissed them both and turned back to his desk. He sat and opened his leather-bound log-book.

Hal paused in the doorway. ‘Thank you, Father. This sword—’ He touched the sapphire pommel at his side, but could not find words to continue. Sir Francis grunted without
looking up, dipped his quill and began to write on the parchment page. Hal lingered a little longer in the entrance until his father looked up again in irritation. He backed out and shut the door
softly. As he turned into the passage, the door opposite opened and the Dutch Governor’s wife came through it so swiftly, in a swirl of silks, that they almost collided.

Hal jumped aside and swept the plumed hat from his head. ‘Forgive me, madam.’

Katinka stopped and faced him. She examined him slowly, from the gleaming silver buckles of his new shoes upwards. When she reached his eyes she stared into them coolly and said softly, ‘A
pirate whelp dressed like a great nobleman.’ Then, suddenly, she leaned towards him until her face almost touched his and whispered, ‘I have checked the panel. There is no opening. You
have not performed the task I set you.’

‘My duties have kept me ashore. I have had no chance.’ He stammered as he found the Latin words.

‘See to it this very night,’ she ordered, and swept by him. Her perfume lingered and the velvet doublet seemed too hot and constricting. He felt sweat break out on his chest.

Oliver fussed over the fit of his doublet for what seemed to Hal half the rest of the night. He unpicked and resewed the shoulder seams twice before he was satisfied and Hal fumed with
impatience.

When at last he left, taking all Hal’s newly acquired finery with him, Hal could barely wait to set the locking bar across his door, and kneel at the bulkhead. He discovered that the panel
was fixed to the oak framework by wooden dowels, driven flush with the woodwork.

One at a time, with the point of his dirk, he prised and whittled the dowels from their drilled seats. It was slow work and he dared make no noise. Any blow or rasp would reverberate through the
ship.

It was almost dawn before he was able to remove the last peg and then to slip the blade of his dagger into the joint and lever open the panel. It came away suddenly, with a squeal of protesting
wood against the oak frame that seemed to carry through the hull, and must surely alarm both his father and the Governor.

With bated breath he waited for terrible retribution to fall around his head, but the minutes slid by, and at last he could breathe again.

Gingerly he stuck his head and shoulders through the rectangular opening. Katinka’s toilet cabin beyond was in darkness, but the odour of her perfume made his breath come short. He
listened intently, but could hear nothing from the main cabin beyond. Then, faintly, the sound of the ship’s bell reached him from the deck above and he realized with dismay that it was
almost dawn and in half an hour his watch would begin.

He pulled his head out of the opening, and replaced the panel, securing it with the wooden dowels, but so lightly that they could be removed in seconds.

‘S
hould you allow the Buzzard’s men ashore?’ Hal asked his father respectfully. ‘Forgive me, Father, but can you trust
him that far?’

‘Can I stop him without provoking a fight?’ Sir Francis answered with another question. ‘He says he needs water and firewood, and we do not own this land or even this lagoon.
How can I forbid it to him?’

Hal might have protested further, but his father silenced him with a quick frown, and turned to greet Lord Cumbrae as the keel of his longboat kissed the sands of the beach and he sprang ashore
his legs beneath the plaid furred with wiry ginger hair like a bear’s.

‘All God’s blessings upon you this lovely morning, Franky,’ he shouted, as he came towards them. His pale blue eyes darted restlessly as minnows in a pool under his beetling
red brows.

‘He sees everything,’ Hal murmured. ‘He has come to find out where we have stored the spice.’

‘We cannot hide the spice. There’s a mountain of it,’ Sir Francis told him. ‘But we can make the thieving of it difficult for him.’ Then he smiled bleakly at
Cumbrae as he came up. ‘I hope I see you in good health, and that the whisky did not trouble your sleep last night, sir.’

‘The elixir of life, Franky. The blood in my veins.’ His eyes were bloodshot as they darted about the encampment at the edge of the forest. ‘I need to fill my water casks.
There must be good sweet water hereabouts.’

‘A mile up the lagoon. There’s a stream comes in from the hills.’

‘Plenty of fish.’ The Buzzard gestured at the racks of poles set up in the clearing upon which the split carcasses were laid out over the slow smoking fires of green wood.
‘I’ll have my lads catch some for us also. But what about meat? Are there any deer or wild cattle in the forest?’

‘There are elephants, and herds of wild buffalo. But all are fierce, and even a musket ball in the ribs does not bring them down. However, as soon as the ship is careened I intend sending
a band of hunters inland, beyond the hills to see if they cannot find easier prey.’

It was apparent that Cumbrae had asked the question to give himself space, and he hardly bothered to listen to the reply. When his roving eyes gleamed, Hal followed their gaze. The Buzzard had
discovered the row of thatched lean-to shelters a hundred paces back among the trees, under which the huge casks of spice stood in serried ranks.

‘So you plan to beach and careen the galleon.’ Cumbrae turned away from the spice store, and nodded across the water at the hull of the
Resolution
. ‘A wise plan. If you
need help, I have three first-rate carpenters.’

‘You are amiable,’ Sir Francis told him. ‘I may call upon you.’

‘Anything to help a fellow Knight. I know you would do the same for me.’ The Buzzard clapped him warmly on the shoulder. ‘Now, while my shore party goes to refill the water
casks, you and I can look for a suitable place to set up our Lodge. We must do young Hal here proud. It’s an important day for him.’

Sir Francis glanced at Hal. ‘Aboli is waiting for you.’ He nodded to where the big black man stood patiently a little further down the beach.

Hal watched his father walk away with Cumbrae and disappear down a footpath into the forest. Then he ran down to join Aboli. ‘I am ready at last. Let us go.’

Aboli set off immediately, trotting along the beach towards the head of the lagoon. Hal fell in beside him. ‘You have no sticks?’

‘We will cut them from the forest.’ Aboli tapped the shaft of the hand axe, the steel head of which was hooked over his shoulder, and turned off the beach as he spoke. He led Hal a
mile or so inland until they reached a dense thicket. ‘I marked these trees earlier. My tribe call them the
kweti
. From them we make the finest throwing sticks.’

As they pushed into the dense thicket, there was a explosion of flying leaves and crashing branches as some huge beast charged away ahead of them. They caught a glimpse of scabby black hide and
the flash of great bossed horns.

‘
Nyati!
’ Aboli told Hal. ‘The wild buffalo.’

‘We should hunt him.’ Hal unslung the musket from his shoulder, and reached eagerly for the flint and steel in his pouch to light his slow-match. ‘Such a monster would give us
beef for all the ship’s company.’

Aboli grinned and shook his head. ‘He would hunt you first. There is no fiercer beast in all the forest, not even the lion. He will laugh at your little lead musket balls as he splits your
belly open with those mighty spears he carries atop his head.’ He swung the axe from his shoulder. ‘Leave old Nyati be, and we will find other meat to feed the crew.’

Aboli hacked at the base of one of the
kweti
saplings and, with a dozen strokes, exposed the bulbous root. After a few more strokes he lifted it out from the earth, with the stem attached
to it.

‘My tribe call this club an
iwisa
,’ he told Hal, as he worked, ‘and today I will show you how to use it.’ With skilful cuts, he sized the length of the shaft and
peeled away the bark. Then he trimmed the root into an iron-hard ball, like the head of a mace. When he was finished he hefted the club, testing its weight and balance. Then he set it aside and
searched for another. ‘We need two each.’