Birds of Prey (81 page)

‘Steer for the main channel!’

‘Aye, Captain!’ Ned could not suppress his grin, and Hal grinned back at him.

‘Will this ship do you, Mr Tyler?’

‘It will do me well enough,’ Ned said, and his eyes sparkled.

Hal seized the speaking trumpet from its peg and pointed to the sky as he called the order for the top sails to be set above the courses. He felt the ship start under his feet and begin to
fly.

‘Oh, sweet!’ he whispered. ‘She is a bird, and the wind is her lover.’

He strode across to where Sukeena was already kneeling beside one of the wounded seamen.

‘I told you to leave those bags ashore, did I not?’

‘Yes, my lord.’ She smiled sweetly up at him. ‘But I knew that you were jesting.’ Then her expression changed to dismay. ‘You are hurt!’ She sprang to her
feet. ‘Let me attend to your injuries.’

‘I am scratched, not hurt. This man needs your skills more than I do.’ Hal turned from her, strode to the rail and looked across to the beach. The fire had taken fierce hold on the
forest, and now the scene was lit like the dawn. He could clearly make out the features of the horde of men at the waterside. They were dancing with rage and frustration for they had realized at
last that the frigate was being cut out under their noses.

Hal picked out the giant figure of Cumbrae in the front of the press of men. He was waving his claymore and his face was so swollen with rage that it seemed it might burst open like an overripe
tomato. Hal laughed at him and the Buzzard’s fury was magnified a hundredfold. His voice carried over the hubbub that his men were making. ‘There is no ocean wide enough to hide you,
Courtney. I will find you if it takes fifty years.’

Then Hal stopped laughing as he recognized the man who stood a little higher up the beach. At first he doubted his own eyesight, but the flames lit him so clearly that there could be no mistake.
In contrast to the Buzzard’s antics and transparent rage, Cornelius Schreuder stood, arms folded, staring across at Hal with a cold gaze that placed a sudden chill on Hal’s heart. Their
eyes locked, and it was as though they confronted each other upon the duelling field.

The
Golden Bough
heeled slightly as a stronger eddy of wind over the heads caught her, and the water began to gurgle under her forefoot like a happy infant. The deck trembled and she drew
away from the beach. Hal gave all his attention to the con of the ship, lining her up for the run through the dangerous channel into the sea. It was long minutes before he could look back again
towards the shore.

Only two figures remained on the beach. The two men whom Hal hated most in all the world, both his implacable enemies. The Buzzard had waded out waist-deep into the lagoon, as though to remain
as close as he could. Schreuder still stood where Hal had last seen him. He had not moved and his reptilian stillness was every bit as chilling as Cumbrae’s wild histrionics.

‘The day will come when you will have to kill both of them,’ said a deep voice beside him, and he glanced at Aboli.

‘I dream of that day.’

Beneath his feet he felt the first thrust of the sea coming in through the heads. The flames had destroyed his night vision, and ahead lay utter darkness. He must grope his way through the
treacherous channel like a blind man.

‘Douse the lanterns!’ he ordered. Their feeble light would not penetrate the darkness ahead and would serve only to dazzle him.

‘Bring her up a point to larboard,’ he ordered Ned Tyler quietly.

‘A point to larboard!’

‘Meet her!’

He felt rather than saw the loom of the cliff ahead, and heard the surge and break of the waves on the reef at the entrance. He judged his turn by the sounds of the sea, the feel of the wind on
his chest and the deck beneath his feet.

After all the shouting and pistol fire, the ship was deathly quiet. Every seaman aboard her knew that Hal was leading them against an ancient enemy far more dangerous than the Buzzard or any man
alive.

‘Harden up your main and mizzen courses,’ he called to the men on the sheets. ‘Stand ready to let your topgallants fly.’

An almost palpable fear lay upon the
Golden Bough
for the ebb had her by the throat and there was no manner in which the crew could slow the ship’s headlong rush towards the unseen
cliffs in the aching blackness.

The moment came. Hal felt the back surge from the breaking reef push across the bows, and the puff of wind on his cheek coming from a new direction as the ship ran on into the maw of rock.

‘Starboard your helm!’ he said sharply. ‘Hard over. Let your topgallants fly.’

The
Golden Bough
spun on her heel and her top sails flapped in the wind, like the wings of a vulture scenting death. The ship rushed on into the darkness and every man on the deck braced
himself for the terrible crash as the belly was ripped out of her by the fangs of the reef.

Hal stepped to the rail and peered up into the sky. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness. He saw the line; high above, where the stars were extinguished by the loom of the rocky head.

‘Midship your helm, Mr Tyler. Hold her at that.’

The ship steadied on her new course into the night, and Hal’s heart beat fast to the echo of booming surf from the cliff close at hand. He clenched his fists at his sides in anticipation
of the strike into the reef. Instead he felt the scend of the open sea hump up under her, and the
Golden Bough
meet it with the passion thrust of a lover.

‘Harden up your topgallants.’ He raised his voice to carry on high. The flapping of sails ceased and he heard once again the thrumming of tight canvas.

The
Golden Bough
threw up her bows as the first ocean roller slid under her and for a moment no man dared believe that Hal had led them through the maelstrom to safety.

‘Light the lanterns,’ Hal said quietly. ‘Mr Tyler, come around to due south. We will make a good offing.’

The silence persisted, then a voice from the main yard yelled down, ‘Lord love you, Captain! We’re through.’ Then the cheering swept down the deck.

‘For Sir Hal and the
Golden Bough
.’ They cheered him until their throats ached, and Hal heard strange voices calling his name. The seamen he had released from the hold were
cheering him as loudly as the others.

He felt a small warm hand creep into his and looked down to see Sukeena’s sweet face glow in the lantern light beside the binnacle.

‘Already they love you almost as much as I do.’ She tugged softly on his hand. ‘Will you not come away to where I can see to your wounds?’

But he did not want to leave his quarterdeck. He wanted to revel longer in the sounds and the feel of his new ship and the sea under her. So he kept Sukeena close beside him as the
Golden
Bough
ran on into the night and the stars blazed down from above.

Big Daniel came to them at last, dragging with him an abject figure. For a moment Hal did not recognize the creature but then the whining voice made his skin crawl with loathing and the fine
hairs at the back of his neck rise.

‘Sweet Sir Henry, I pray you to have mercy on an old shipmate.’

‘Sam Bowles.’ Hal tried to keep his voice level. ‘You have enough innocent blood on your conscience to float a frigate.’

‘You do me injustice, good Sir Henry. I am a poor wretch driven by the storms and gales of life, noble Sir Henry. I never wanted to do no man harm.’

‘I will deal with him in the morning. Chain him to the mainmast and put two good men to guard him,’ Hal ordered Big Daniel. ‘Make sure that this time he does not eel his way
out of our hands and cheat us once again of the vengeance that we so richly deserve.’

He watched in the lantern light as they shackled Sam Bowles to the foot of the mainmast and two of the crew stood over him with drawn cutlasses.

‘My little brother Peter was one of those you drowned,’ the older of the two guards told Sam Bowles. ‘I beg you for any excuse to stick this blade through your
belly.’

Hal left Daniel in charge of the deck and, taking Sukeena with him, went below to the main cabin. She would not rest until she had bathed and bandaged his cuts and wounds, although none were
serious enough to cause her alarm. When she had finished, Hal led her through into the small cabin next door. ‘You will be able to rest here undisturbed,’ he told her, lifted her onto
the bunk and, though she protested, covered her with a woollen blanket.

‘There are wounded men that need my help,’ she said.

‘Your unborn son and I need you more,’ he told her firmly, and pushed her head down gently. She sighed and was almost immediately asleep.

He returned to the main cabin and sat down at Llewellyn’s desk. In the centre of the mahogany top lay a great black leather-covered Bible. During all his captivity Hal had been denied
access to the book. He opened the front cover, and read the inscription, written in a bold sloping hand: ‘Christopher Llewellyn esq; Born 16th October in the year of grace 1621.’

Below it was another, fresher inscription: ‘Consecrated as a Nautonnier Knight of the Temple of the Order of St George and the Holy Grail 2nd August 1643.’

Knowing that the man who had captained this ship before him was a brother Knight gave Hal a deep purpose and pleasure. For an hour he turned the pages of the Bible and reread the familiar and
inspiring passages by which his father had taught him to steer his course through life. At last he closed it, stood up and began to search the cabin for the ship’s books and documents. He
soon discovered the iron strong-box below the bunk. When he could not find the key he called Aboli to help him. They forced open the lid and Hal sent Aboli away. He sat the rest of the night at
Llewellyn’s desk, studying the ship’s books and papers in the lantern light. He was so absorbed by his reading that when Aboli came down to fetch him, an hour after the sun had risen,
he looked up in surprise. ‘What time is it, Aboli?’

‘Two bells in the morning watch. The men are asking to see you, Captain.’

Hal stood up from the desk, stretching and rubbing his eyes, then crossed to the door of the cabin where Sukeena still slept.

‘It would be best if you spoke to the new men as soon as you can, Gundwane,’ Aboli said, behind him.

‘Yes, you are right.’ Hal turned back to him.

‘Daniel and I have already told them who you are, but you must convince them now to sail under your command. If they refuse to accept you as their new captain, there is little we can do.
There are thirty-four of them, and only six of us.’

Hal went to the small mirror on the bulkhead above the jug and basin of the toilet stand. When he saw his reflection he started with amazement. ‘Sweet heavens, Aboli, I look such a pirate
that I do not even trust myself.’

Sukeena must have been listening, for she appeared suddenly in the doorway with the blanket draped over her shoulders.

‘Tell them we will come in a minute, Aboli, when I have made the best of his appearance,’ she said.

When Hal and Sukeena stepped out onto the deck together, the men gathered in the ship’s waist stared at them with astonishment. The transformation was extraordinary. Hal was freshly shaved
and dressed in simple but clean clothing from Llewellyn’s locker. Sukeena’s hair was combed, oiled and plaited and she had fashioned a long skirt from one of the cabin’s velvet
drapes and wrapped it around her girlish waist and hips. They made an extraordinary couple, the tall young Englishman and the oriental beauty.

Hal left Sukeena at the companionway and strode out in front of the men. ‘I am Henry Courtney. I am an Englishman, as you are. I am a sailor, as you are.’

‘Aye, that you are, Captain,’ one said loudly. ‘We watched you take a strange ship out through the heads in darkness. You’re enough sailor to fill my tankard and give me
a warm feel in the guts.’

Another called out, ‘I sailed with your father, Sir Francis, on the old
Lady Edwina
. He was a seaman and fighter, and an honest man to boot.’

Then another cried, ‘Last night, by my count, you took down seven of the Buzzard’s scum with your own blade. The pup is well bred from the old dog.’

They all began to cheer him so he could not speak for a long while, but at last he held up his hand. ‘I tell you straight that I have read Captain Llewellyn’s log. I have read the
charter he had with the ship’s owner, and I know whither the
Golden Bough
was bound and what was her purpose.’ He paused, and looked at their honest, weather-beaten faces.
‘We have a choice, you and I. We can say we were beaten by the Buzzard before we began and sail back home to England.’

They groaned and shouted protests until he held up his hand again. ‘Or I can take over Captain Llewellyn’s charter and his agreement with the owners of the
Golden Bough
. On
your side, you can sign on with me on the same terms and with the same share of the prize you agreed before. Before you answer me, remember that if you come with me the chances are strong that we
will run in with the Buzzard again, and you will have to fight him once more.’

‘Lead us to him now, Captain,’ one yelled. ‘We’ll fight him this very day.’

‘Nay, lad. We’re short-handed and I need to learn to con this ship before we meet the Buzzard again. We will fight the
Gull
on the day and at the place of my own
choosing,’ Hal told them grimly. ‘On that day we will hoist the Buzzard’s head to our masthead and divide up his booty.’

‘I’m with you, Captain,’ shouted a lanky fair-headed sailor. ‘I cannot write my name, but bring me the book and I’ll mark a cross so big and black it will fright
the devil himself.’ They all roared with fierce laughter.

‘Bring the book and let us sign.’

‘We’re with you. My oath and my mark on it.’

Hal stopped them again. ‘You will come one at a time to my cabin, so that I can learn each of your names and shake you by the hand.’

He turned to the rail and pointed back over their stern. ‘We have made good our offing.’ The African coast lay low and blue along the horizon. ‘Get aloft now to make sail and
bring the ship around onto her true course for the Great Horn of Africa.’