Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (30 page)

BOOK: Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie)
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Chapter 48

 

LEO
22
nd
May 1686
La Isla Magdalena

 

 

I missed Jimmy. I missed his moaning and his tempers. I knew he’d done Gabriella and Klara a great service when they came aboard, even if no one would tell me exactly what that had been. If I grieved
his
loss so much, I’d break if I lost her. I couldn’t risk that, not when near fifty lives besides hers depended on my decisions. I had to have her in my sight so I could protect her, and I cursed her for coming aboard in the first place. This was a dangerous life. Even disregarding the blades and guns, people died. Quickly and without warning, just like Jimmy.
What kind of life did she leave behind to feel safer at sea with me?

‘All well, Cap?’

I turned to see my carpenter, Gaunt, and I nodded in reply.

‘Thee can’t keep a ship at anchor forever or she’ll rot away. Thee needs to let her fill her sails with wind if she’s to live and love.’

I knew he wasn’t referring to the ship, but I pretended I’d misunderstood.

‘Are we ready to weigh anchor?’

‘Aye, Cap.’

‘Then let’s be off.’ I didn’t want his advice on anything but timber.

I looked up at the sound of the topsails filling;
Freedom’s
bows swung round, and she crept closer to her anchor. The men heaved the capstan round, pulling in the anchor cable until we were up and down – right on top of it. A louder chant, followed by a sudden speeding up, marked our release from the bottom, and the jibs were sheeted in to windward. Backed against the wind like this they’d work against the topsails and hold us in position for the moment. The anchor broke the surface and was held at the bow. It would stay there until we were well away from the shallows, just in case something went wrong and we needed to drop it in a hurry.

Despite my best intentions, I sought out Gabriella. I didn’t want to feast my eyes or feed my heart; I just wanted to make sure she was safe. I had a moment of panic when I couldn’t find her, then spotted her when I looked up to watch the courses (the lowest and largest sails) being loosed. She was up the mainmast leaning over the yard, unfurling with the topmen.
When did she start working aloft?

She looked down at me and, when our eyes met, she flinched backwards and caught herself on one of the hempen gaskets attached to the yard. My expression went from anger to fear and I waved at her, telling her to climb down. Instead she climbed higher, and I noticed she wasn’t using the lubber’s hole by the mast any more. She got to the platform by clambering out and over the edge where the topmast shrouds anchored the topmast to the lower. This had to stop. I watched her settle herself at the maintop and realized she was staying as lookout. I tried to smile, but didn’t think it was returned. She kept her gaze seaward. I didn’t blame her.

Chapter 49

 

LEO
18
th
June 1686
La Isla Magdalena

 

 


Sail oh
, to the east.’

I ran to the ratlins with my glass at Gabriella’s shout. One of the benefits of this island was that it was out of the way of the more usual shipping routes – the area was littered with cays, sandbanks and reefs – and ships stayed away. A ship here could only mean trouble.

I climbed high enough to get a good look. I’d expected her to be hull down – so close to the horizon that I couldn’t see her decks – but she was close, too close. She should have been spotted before this. I recognized
Edelweiss.
Blake had almost caught us unawares.

‘What the devil are you doing up there, Gabriella?’ I shouted. ‘A lookout needs to do just that, keep a sharp eye out – you could have just killed us all!’

I looked up into her shocked face and realized I’d gone too far, but if she was going to sail on my crew, she had to do the work well. This wasn’t a game; there were men out there with a very real desire to kill us, and plenty more who’d happily do it for them for the contents of our seachests if they had the opportunity.

I climbed back down to the decks, shouting orders as I went, ‘Slip the anchor and get us underway! Gun crews, ready your pieces.’

I reached Frazer on the quarterdeck and said one word, ‘Blake.’

He nodded and looked at the approaching sail, then stood facing into wind.

‘An offing will be difficult, the wind’s swung southerly and we’re now on a lee shore. Blake has the wind with him. Are we standing off west and running?’

‘No,’ I replied. ‘East. If we can sneak between the sandbank and reef we may lure him in and wreck him.’

‘We might wreck ourselves,’ Frazer said.

‘True, but I’ve kept charts – as you know well, Frazer. I know they’re a little out of date, but I’m willing to bet the sands haven’t shifted that much. We’ll keep a sharp lookout.’

He glanced up at Gabriella, who still looked to be sulking in the tops. ‘Better double it,’ he said.

I wanted to reprimand him, but he was right. The island was constantly exposed to the Atlantic swell and every storm could change the formation of sandbank, cay and island in hours. What I was proposing was dangerous, and I could lose
Freedom
and the lives of everyone aboard. I couldn’t trust Gabriella’s eyes alone. Staring into sun-sparkled water, looking for subtle changes in colour to show us the sandbank, was a tall order for the experienced men; she didn’t know well enough what to look for, and her eyes weren’t used to the glare.

‘Davys, up to the foretop. I need to know the extent of that sandbank ahead.’

‘Aye, Cap,’ he said, and leaped into the rigging, swarming up to the platform in seconds.

Frazer hauled the tiller over as the anchor warp slid into the sea, and we were free. The jibs were already backed against the wind to turn us, but we needed way on immediately to get steerage; the combination of wind and swell would have us on the beach in moments, and Blake was almost in range. Even if we executed the procedure perfectly, we had no room to manoeuvre. I could very well die a fool in the next few minutes, but this was an opportunity from which I could not, and would not, turn away.

We were to the southeast of La Isla Magdalena. To the north lay the headland that usually sheltered the anchorage from the prevailing northeasterly winds. To the east the sandbank lay; a hundred yards east of that, a coral reef awaited. Easterly again was Blake, coming fast with the wind. It was clear he didn’t know about the reef. All I had to do was sail
Sound of Freedom
between the bank and reef to lure him in, circle around the other sandbanks to the north, then my guns could pound away at him at my leisure – but I had to get into position quickly.

‘Set the main-topsail!’ I shouted, and men jumped to shake out the massive sail.

‘Are you sure about that?’ Frazer asked, and we ducked as the first of Blake’s ball hit
Freedom’s
decks. ‘You’re driving us into cannon range,
and
into treacherous waters.’

‘The whole of the Carib Sea is treacherous,’ I replied. ‘Easy on the helm. Fire starboard cannon!’

Chapter 50

 

 

A tremendous crunching and splitting of wood had my Freedom Fighters cheering. Blake was aground – his masts falling overboard. We had him.
I
had him and it had been easy.

A scream wiped the grin of triumph from my face, and I turned to see Smith clutch his neck as blood gushed down his shirt. A splinter from the newly shattered starboard bulwark had sliced through the side of his neck. Blake wasn’t giving up without a fight, he was still firing on us. Gaunt rushed to help Smith, who had crumpled to the deck, but he soon got back to his feet and walked away. Smith was dead. He could stay where he’d fallen until we were out of this.

I shouted to my gunners to keep firing, and heard the order relayed down the decks. Frazer steered as best he could; he had no way of hearing instructions shouted down from the tops in that chaos, and was following Davys and Gabriella’s hand signals from the main and foremasts.

More lead balls pummelled
Freedom
from Blake’s stricken ship. I hadn’t expected him to carry on firing with his ship in such dire straits, but he appeared willing to sacrifice
Edelweiss
and the safety of his men to take the opportunity to kill me. There was nothing I could do but sail on and fire back. I had the sandbank to larboard, and Blake and the reef to starboard, with no room to tack or wear round.

My guns fired again. The gunners were working quickly – they were scared.

Suddenly I fell forwards on to the deck.
Mierda!
We’d hit bottom. I shouted at Frazer, screamed at Blackman and Butler to fend us off with boat hooks, and cursed my two lookouts at the top of my voice. Jumping to my feet, I ran to the larboard rail and peered over the side. The gunners had been knocked out of their rhythm, and I could hear Blake’s crew cheer in the sudden silence.

I held my breath and did my best to ignore their renewed firing – there was nothing I could do about their guns at the moment. Our only hope was to get off this sandbank. If we were firmly aground, both crews were likely dead. I glared up at Davys and Gabriella. What had they been doing? This was
their
fault. I looked around at my decks. They were a mess. Men, lead, shards of splintered wood and rags of canvas lay in bloodied sand. My beautiful ship looked like kindling.

‘She’s shifting!’ Blackman cried. ‘Ready larboard guns!’

Men ran across the decks to obey.

‘Fire!’

The larboard guns fired and
Freedom
rolled to starboard, then fell free of the sandbank and we sailed on. Blake’s men stopped cheering.

I prepared to order my men to harden up and tack so we could finish off Blake, but realized neither ship nor crew was in any state to carry on the fight. I wasn’t even sure I could wear
Freedom
round safely with all the damage she’d taken. I looked across at
Edelweiss
. She was stranded and wrecked. I could leave Blake to the wind and tides; he wasn’t going anywhere – the chances were good he’d die here. Yet I still found it extremely difficult to sail away and not make sure of his demise personally, even though I knew I had no choice. I had to repair
Freedom
and keep her men safe.

Chapter 51

 

GABRIELLA
25
th
July 1686
Two Leagues West of Gadalupe

 

 

I was the first to sight
Papillion
heading our way. It was my cry of ‘Sail oh,’ from the maintop platform that alerted Leo and the others. She was my prize, and I was determined to have a hand in taking her. Leo and I had barely spoken in the month since we’d run aground fighting Blake, but whether Leo wanted me or not, I was a member of this crew and it was time to start fighting.

My attention was divided between the growing sails ahead and the preparations being made below me, and my stomach tied up in knots as I watched them ready the ship for the fight. My shipmates tidied the rigging then cleared the deck to give themselves room to work (anything that wouldn’t be needed in the next couple of hours was taken below, including the chickens and goats that I insisted got some air whenever possible), then I watched them scatter sand on the bare boards to provide grip and soak up spilled blood. The gunners got their powder up, prepared their cannon and put their rammers, spongers, ladles and other equipment within easy reach by the racks holding their shot.

Once the sharpshooters started to swarm up the rigging, I began my climb down to give my place at the maintop to Juaquim and his muskets. The best marksman aboard
Freedom
, the Portuguese would pick off the most troublesome of our adversaries should they decide to fight. It was a dangerous job, but at least he wasn’t quite as exposed on the small platform as some of the others, who braced themselves in the rigging itself.

Once on deck, I headed to my cabin, now occupied by Feliciano and Juan manning the eight-pounder we shared the space with. Klara was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed Jimmy’s guns, powder flask, and supply of shot and wadding – much to the amusement of the two Spaniards – glared at them, then headed back to the quarterdeck; to bump straight into Leo coming out of the chartroom, dressed up in hat, frockcoat, sash and leather boots.

‘El infierno! Where do you think you’re going with those?’

‘I’m fighting. I’m ready.’

‘I don’t think so – I’ve been watching you practise and I can’t yet be sure of you hitting your mark. You’re no expert with your blade either. You’re staying out of this.’

I stood my ground and glared at him, sick of his hostility. ‘I’m ready,’ I repeated.

He sighed; he didn’t have time to argue, and I knew it. ‘You stay where I can see you on the maindeck. Let the men who know what they’re doing take care of what they know best. You can show the colours on the first cannon shot and board with me once we’re in control of her. Every one of these men, including myself, needs to concern himself with what’s happening around us. We can’t afford distractions or worries about your shot. See if you still think you’re ready after this.’

Distractions?
I looked around, noting the intense expressions on every face and nodded. This wasn’t the time to argue; the two ships were closing quickly, and Jean-Claude was ready on the bow cannon to give the warning shot on Leo’s signal. My nerves jangled, and staying close to Leo suddenly seemed like a very good idea, despite his unfriendly manner. I nodded my acceptance of his terms.

We had the French Fleur de Lys flying to disguise us as a merchant vessel, and I moved to the foot of the mainmast, fore of Leo’s position on the tiller. I watched the prize grow larger as we came together. Around me the decks were quiet; most of the men either hidden behind the bulwarks at their guns, or below and ready to open the gun ports, also on Jean-Claude’s shot.

I was getting more and more excited, and more and more scared. My heartbeat thumped in my ears, my breath quickened and shallowed as I began to make out the people on the other deck – the captain strutting around his quarterdeck, shouting out orders as if it was any other day. The reality of this life sunk in then. In a few minutes a number of the human beings I could see and now hear may be dead, maybe someone from this deck, maybe even Klara or me. This was no game, and there would be no going back from this. By taking part in the attack, even if all I did was unfurl a flag to show our intention of violence, any blood spilled would be on my hands just as surely as the hand wielding the weapon that did the harm, no matter what Leo’s sense of responsibility told him. In a few minutes I’d undeniably be a pirate. An outlaw and criminal who could be hung if caught, or shot at any time – and I couldn’t wait to get started.

Out of the nervous stillness came a deafening roar – Jean-Claude. Stunned by the cacophony of sound in my head, I slowly grew aware of Leo shouting my name and remembered I had a job to do.

I pulled on the line in my hands and . . . nothing! I looked up and realized just how long this rope was, and how much slack I had to gather. I pulled quickly, hand-over-hand, bent my knees and fell to the deck until the knot finally pulled through way above me and the enormous square of black silk unfurled. A little late, but the order to surrender had been given. I admired it from my position supine on the deck, and thought of Leo’s tattoo. It would look well picked out in white on that flag.

I stayed where I was, a heap on the wooden boards, and watched as my new friends stood over their starboard cannon with the match in their linstocks lit, ready to fire. It was an unmistakeable show of force in itself. Yet more men stood at the rail, leaning forward and shouting curses and threats, blades unsheathed and waved in yet more promises of violence and murder.

Despite my bravado earlier, I didn’t move even when I caught Leo laughing at me, but just watched, heart pounding with the noise and threat. I wasn’t the only one. The men on the other deck looked just as scared as I was: frozen to the spot and ignoring their captain urging them to fight despite being hugely outgunned. I saw Leo look up and give a signal to Juaquim, presumably to shoot the only man prepared to stand up to us, and the opposing captain slumped to the deck, but he hadn’t been shot. His own mate had beaten Juaquim to it and clubbed his captain with the butt of one of the few pistols they had. I wondered if it was carved as a horse’s head like Leo’s. Their flag was immediately struck.

I leaned my head back and breathed a huge sigh of relief, then heard a familiar chuckle.

‘Are you ready, querida?’ Leo, finally with a smile on his face, stood next to me, offering his hand. I was too shaken to be embarrassed about my earlier posturing, so took his hand and allowed him to help me up. We crossed to our prize, now secured alongside. I seemed to be in favour again.

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