Corsair (17 page)

He examined the beach again with the perspective glass and was surprised to see that only now were the Spaniards running along the beach towards the boats – they must have been slow to spot the three ships rounding the headland. Most of them still had a hundred yards to go to reach the boats; then they had to drag them into the water and row to the ships. And with any luck several of the boats would already be laden with live turtles, lying on their backs in the bottom but watching with those beady black eyes, ready to make a vicious snap at any foot or hand within range.

The
Griffin
was flying along now: spray spurted up to darken the lower part of the headsails; the yard creaked as it gave shape to the mainsail. Men were busy ramming home powder, shot and wads, and now Lobb was giving orders to half a dozen men who were coiling up ropes, to which grapnels had been secured. Sails trimmed, guns loaded, small arms issued, grapnels ready to be hurled on board the Spaniard… Ned ran through the list in his mind. There was nothing else: everything depended on how quickly those men could get back to their ships.

Turtles as allies: Ned chuckled to himself as he pictured agitated Spaniards hoisting up snapping turtles and tossing them over the side. Not tossing: each of those turtles would weigh at least a hundredweight, and they would be slippery: if the boat was afloat, then the sudden shifting of weight would make it roll, and the men would slip as they heaved…

He looked astern at the
Peleus
. Yes, there was no doubt that the
Griffin
had gained on her, and he could imagine Thomas cursing as his people trimmed sheets and tried to get a little more speed out of the ship. Judging from the way the
Peleus
’ forefoot was butting up the spray, the
Griffin
should look a fine sight – unless you happened to be one of the Spanish pirates, who must be wondering where the three ships had come from, and who they were. Had they heard that the buccaneers no longer went to sea?

How many men had the Spaniards left in each of the ships? Judging from the number on the beach capturing turtles, not many. It would make sense, anchored in what seemed a place utterly remote from the enemy and well sheltered from the wind, to send most of a ship’s company on shore: there were plenty of turtles and they were heavy, so they needed plenty of men to catch them and turn them over on their backs, and plenty of men to carry them to the boats.

And the men would not be armed because they were only after turtles. Kept on their backs live, the Spaniards would have fresh turtle meat when they needed it, and he knew turtles lasted well and could go for days – probably weeks – without food. So the men on shore would not be carrying cutlasses or pistols to kill the turtles; they needed both hands free to carry them.

A mile to go: the breeze was if anything stiffer; the
Griffin
seemed to respond as she ran along the coast towards the ships which were lying head to wind, their bows pointing towards the beach. It was going to be a mad rush – the
Griffin
would have to steer for the ship which would be lying at right angles across her bow and then, at the last moment, luff up: a sharp turn to starboard which would put her alongside the Spanish ship. Furl mainsail, drop headsails, hook on with the grapnels – and secure the ship before the boats arrived from the beach…

He called over Lobb and briefly explained his plan. It was in any case obvious: in this situation there was little choice. “How many of us to board her?” Lobb asked.

Ned thought for a moment. The only risk – unlikely – was that the men in the boats were shrewd enough to board the Griffin from the other side. “Take half the men: you’d better choose ’em now, so they’ll be ready.”

Most of the Spaniards had reached their boats now and, yes, through the perspective glass he could see them manhandling live turtles out of the boats! One after another the domed creatures were toppled over the sides and left to lie on the sand. Thanks, Ned muttered to himself; you’ve all given me a few precious minutes.

Now the men were hauling the first of the boats back into the water: they had simply dragged them up the sand, instead of dropping a kedge as they ran in, so they had to drag them back into deep enough water to float: not just float, but float with a couple of dozen or more men on board. Yes, the first boat was afloat now and the men were scrambling in over the coamings. The first ones in grabbed oars and used them to pole the boat into deeper water.

Now a second boat was being dragged down the beach, and the men in the first settled down to row. They were rowing unevenly and excitedly; oar blades were sending up spurts of water as in the rush the men did not dip them deep enough.

Half a mile: now without using the perspective glass he could make out details of the first ship. She was painted green with red decoration on the transom. There were five ports for guns on this side, so she carried ten. Headsails had just been dropped to the foot of their stays, with no attempt to put a lashing round them. The mainsail was furled on the yard, but clumsily, just secured with a few gaskets tied loosely.

Ned suddenly realised that Aurelia was standing beside him. “Why don’t you go below?” he suggested. “There might be some fire from that ship.”

Aurelia shook her head and laughed: “What, and miss a race like this! You’ll win: less than half a mile, and they’ll never get out in time.”

Ned was not so sure: the Spaniards were rowing together now; the first boat was spurting along with every sweep of the oars, and the boat seemed to gain speed as the distance grew shorter.

Five hundred yards…he could make out the guns along the Spanish ship’s side and pick out all the rigging. And yes, there were three or four men looking over the ship’s side at the
Griffin
. Four. No one else joined them. Four men left on board. And to which ship would that first boat go? Ned felt a moment’s sympathy for the four men: they could see that the men who had been on shore were racing back to the ships, but they could also see that the chances were against anyone arriving in time to rescue them.

In fact, Ned thought, they know better than anyone who is going to win this race because they have a better view of the boats and the
Griffin
; the boats approaching from the bow, the
Griffin
from the beam. For a moment Ned felt sympathy for them: they must be feeling very lonely.

Four hundred yards, and the
Griffin
was dipping as she went over the crests and into the troughs. The sea was much calmer in the lee of the land. Ned turned and shouted at the men with the grapnels: “Now you men, a quick throw and then make fast the other end: heave in if necessary because we’ve got to hold that ship alongside us!”

He glanced ahead and then called to the men at the guns: “Don’t fire unless I give the order: we’ll carry her by boarding and there’s no need to do any unnecessary damage if we’re going to capture her.”

And they were the only orders he needed to shout. “Stand by me, Lobb,” he said. “Things are going to happen fast and I want you to repeat my orders.”

Three hundred yards, and the four men watched the
Griffin
thundering towards them. Ned was reminded of a rabbit paralysed by the eyes of a stoat, unable to move yet knowing it was in mortal peril.

The first boat had about three hundred yards to go, but it seemed to Ned she was making for the second ship, which would be the one that the
Peleus
tackled. Yes, the second boat was the one making for the first ship, and she had five hundred yards to go, perhaps a little less.

Aurelia was holding his arm, through excitement not nervousness. “We’re winning!” she exclaimed. She let his arm go, hurried to the ship’s side and came back with a cutlass for Ned. “You’re not going to board her with your bare hands, are you?”

“Four men – hardly seems fair, does it?”

“With four men nobody gets killed; with forty, there’d be a slaughter,” she commented briefly.

Two hundred yards, and Ned tried to judge how much the Spanish ship was swinging in the wind: he had to judge where she would be when the
Griffin
finished her turn: if she had swung even ten yards more than Ned estimated there would be a ten-yard gap between the two ships, and by the time she had swung back the
Griffin
might have drifted away. There was no windward of leeward side: the wind was blowing equally down both sides of the ship, with just an occasional irregular puff to make her swing.

A hundred yards…in a matter of moments the distance would be measured in dozens of feet…Ned knew he was clenching his fists in an effort to concentrate, and his grip on the hilt of the cutlass was almost painful.

Fifty yards…forty…thirty… “Hard a’starboard!” he snapped at Lobb and shouted to the men: “Cast off those headsail sheets…brace the yard sharp up.”

In a matter of moments the
Griffin
turned sharply to come alongside the ship. The headsails started flapping wildly and the mainsail lost its shape: for a few moments there was only the flogging of canvas, then with a crash the
Griffin
slammed alongside and Ned bellowed: “Over with those grapnels!”

The two ships began to draw apart for a few moments, then the grapnels sailed across the gap to hold the two ships together. Ned jumped on to the
Griffin
’s bulwarks to leap across to the Spanish ship, and even as he poised to regain his balance he registered that the four men had vanished.

A few moments later the Spanish ship’s decks were swarming with Griffins and Ned looked forward: the second boat was still fifty yards away and – yes, it was being rowed more slowly: whoever was in charge of it was probably trying to make up his mind what to do.

Then he heard the flogging of canvas and the hiss of a bow wave, and the
Peleus
passed across their stern, heading for the second ship. Thomas, waving a cutlass, shouted something cheerful that Ned could not distinguish.

Ned then remembered seeing the name of the Spanish ship: he had seen but not registered the name painted on the transom in the last few moments as the
Griffin
swung alongside, and the name was one of those long Spanish ones,
Santa Levirata y Aninimas
.

He suddenly realized that the men were simply standing round: there was no fighting, and coming towards him were four Spaniards, treading nervously as four Griffins followed them with cutlasses prodding their backs.

Lobb was leading the procession, and as he reached Ned, he said: “We found these men hiding down in the after cabin. Are we taking prisoners?”

“Keep them for the time being.” He glanced over the bow again and saw that the boat coming from the beach had now stopped; the men were resting on their oars. “We can question these chaps and see where the ships came from.”

“Lucky we didn’t spit ’em,” Lobb commented. “They were singing such a mournful song we felt sorry for them.”

Ned heard a heavy thud over to larboard and glanced up to see that the
Peleus
had just gone alongside the second ship, whose boat was still fifty yards short.

At that moment the
Phoenix
sailed past on her way to tackle the third ship, and Ned just caught sight of Saxby standing aft with Martha Judd next to him. The
Peleus
was alongside her target and Ned was sure the ship was already captured: there was no crackle of muskets and pistols; he could not see men scrambling about the decks of either ship.

Ned looked ahead and saw that all the boats had stopped rowing and at least two had turned and were heading back to the beach. Which, he realized, meant that they were abandoning the fourth ship.

He inspected her with the perspective glass. She was very small and armed with only two guns. Her crew would be perhaps twenty-five men. Should he leave Lobb and his boarding party with the prize and go round to take the fourth ship? At the moment there were more than a hundred Spaniards stranded – either in the boats or on shore. If they were left without means of escaping, they would terrorize the villagers living here, and they would have to wait for the next Spanish ship to arrive to rescue them.

So…why not leave the little fourth ship for them to escape in, to return whence they came? If they could not all sail in her at once – and she was probably too small – she could always make two trips.

All he had to do was wait for Thomas and Saxby to complete their tasks. In fact he could go over and see Thomas now and give him his instructions.

“Hoist out a boat,” he told Lobb. “I’m going over to the
Peleus
, and then I’ll probably go on to the
Phoenix
. In the meantime, make sure that our prize is ready to get under way – I shall want you to take her back to Port Royal.”

Thomas was jubilant. Ned went on board the
Peleus
to find him grinning broadly and hear him say delightedly: “Well, Ned, a pirate captured and not a shot fired nor a cutlass used in anger.”

“We did the same,” Ned said. “I imagine–” he gestured towards the Phoenix “–that Martha Judd has captured that one all by herself!”

“Thomas wanted me to go below,” Diana said crossly. “What did Aurelia do?” she asked.

“Well,” Ned said lamely, “I wanted her to go below but she refused.”

“There you are!” Diana said triumphantly to Thomas. “And Martha Judd was on deck because I saw her when the
Phoenix
went by.”

“I’d like to meet the man that could make Martha Judd go below,” Thomas muttered, “but Ned did say he wanted Aurelia to go below.”

“You men,” Diana grumbled. “Frightened of ships that don’t fire a single shot in their own defence.”

Ned had no time for Diana’s grumbles and said briskly: “Thomas, we’ll leave that last little ship for the Dons to escape in: she isn’t worth bothering with, and I don’t like the idea of marooning them here: they’ll start harrying the villagers.”

Thomas nodded. “Prisoners are just a damned nuisance,” he declared. “There were half a dozen on board this ship – shall I send them over to the little one?”