Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (28 page)

I woke at dawn, still on the beach; the magical green and blue driftwood fire of the night before reduced to a few glowing embers. I blinked my eyes open and tried to remember why I was lying on sand. Oh yes, treasure party. Voted on to the crew. Rich in my own right. Pirate. My eyes flew open and I sat up to look about me.

‘Buenos días
.
’

I looked down and realized I’d borrowed Leo’s arm for a pillow.

‘Buenos días
,’
I replied, smiling, then winced at a pain in my head. I put my hands to my brow and groaned at its ache.

Leo laughed. ‘You didn’t last very long. If you want to be a pirate, you’ll have to learn to stay awake through the carousing!’

‘No thanks, my headache’s bad enough as it is.’ Then I remembered something. ‘You promised to teach me to shoot today!’

‘Sí. Are you sure you want to? With a headache, I mean.’

I nodded, grimacing in the early heat. Nothing was going to stop me learning how to defend myself; I was a pirate now. He stood and walked a few paces to the waterline, then stretched. I looked around for Klara and saw her curled up with Obi. I smiled, got up and followed Leo, taking in the spectacle of the sky.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I breathed. ‘Like the top of a rainbow rising out of the ocean.’

‘Sí, beautiful it is, but don’t be fooled by it. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky at morn, sailors be warned.’

I looked again at the beauty of the sky – red and pink bathed the clouds and was reflected in leagues of water.
How could something so beautiful be a warning?
Leo must have seen the doubt on my face.

‘There’ll be a blow afore it gets dark, and the wind’s backing. We haven’t got long; I’ll need to get back to the ship before the storm hits. It’ll have to be a short lesson, Gabriella.’

*

Due to the threat etched in the sky,
Freedom
hadn’t been laid over, so it was still possible to move about her decks. There was no time to waste and everyone was at work; whether scraping barnacles off the hull, fetching fresh water or securing anything and everything that was loose. I helped Mr Davys coil the great anchor hawser, listening to him grumble about losing his good fishing.

‘Don’t listen to him, lass, he’s such a poor fisherman the only way he can catch them is with the help of the barnacles to draw them in. He grumbles every time we scrape, thee’s doing the rest of us no favours by giving him an ear,’ Mr Gaunt said from behind me. ‘I’ll take over here, the Cap wants thee.’

I left them to it with relief.

‘Is it time to go shooting?’ I asked Leo when I found him on the maindeck.

‘Sí, come with me.’ He led me to the chartroom, took a horn of powder and gave it to me with a small, heavy canvas bag. I tucked them both into my sash.

‘I know I have another pair of pistols in here somewhere,’ he muttered, rooting about in his seachest. ‘I won’t be a minute.’ I looked at the papers scattered over the table. Most looked to be charts, but there were books there too, one inscribed with a name:
Adelheid.

‘
Oh, the
Adelheid,
what’s this, her logbook?’

Leo left the chest, took the book out of my hands and threw it back on the table.

‘Never mind that, we haven’t the time. It’s best you don’t have your own pistols anyway until you’re competent, you’ll use mine for now,’ he said, marching back out on to deck. I looked back at the
Adelheid
logbook, wondering what was in it that he didn’t want me to see.

‘Don’t forget that powder!’

I left the book and hurried after him. Whatever was in it could wait; I was going to learn to shoot. I caught up with Leo at the starboard rail.

‘Ladies first.’ He smiled. I swung over the side, and started to climb down the battens fitted to the side.

‘Oh, here she goes, shirking all the hard work! I thought you wanted to be one of us, darling. You share in our plunder; you’ll share in our work!’

I looked aft and saw Newton perched on a plank of wood suspended over the hull by ropes. His face was bright red as he attacked the lower hull with an iron scraper in the early morning heat. Oh,
why
had we not climbed down the larboard side?

‘
I
decide who does what work on this ship, Newton. As you said, Gabriella is one of us, and you know as well as I do she needs to be competent with small arms.’

‘Load, point and pull the trigger, that’s all she needs to know,’ Newton retorted.

‘If you’re not careful, I’ll reassess and teach her on deck with you employed as the target! Get your scraper working, not your mouth!

‘Never mind him, Gabriella,’ Leo said as we walked along the beach, my legs shaking after walking on a moving deck for so long. ‘He’s too concerned with what everybody else is doing and not on what he’s supposed to be doing himself. He complains to or about everyone – don’t take it to heart.’

I nodded, but stayed quiet.

‘Has he tried to lay a hand on you again?’

I shook my head. ‘No, he’s stayed away from me and I do my best to keep it that way.’

‘Muy bien. That’s for the best. Keep your wits about you and stay out of his way, and if you can’t, stick close to me.’

I nodded again. I didn’t need to be told to stick close to him; I already did that as much as I could.

The beach was gorgeous, a paradise, and already hot. Sand blew about us, but we were sheltered from the worst of the rising wind as we turned north. Still reflecting pink from the sky, it glittered with coral and there was hardly a mark on it, just a few animal tracks. The heavy swell rolled in, rippling the sand as the water threw itself ashore after crossing an ocean.

‘Oh, look!’ There was a group of pelicans on the beach ahead of us, lumbering into the sky at our approach, bellied beaks flattened in flight. ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘Ugh.’ Leo shuddered. ‘I hate those birds. I had nightmares as a boy, I kept thinking they’d eat me after my Papá told me I’d fit in one of those beaks.’

I laughed. Leo afraid of birds? ‘And you call yourself a fearless pirate!’

‘No I don’t – I’ve never called myself fearless. A fearless man is a stupid man, especially in my line of business.’

I’d put my foot in it again. Leo obviously didn’t like to be laughed at. ‘What’s that? It looks like a chicken!’

‘Oh, yes.’ Leo seemed as relieved as I was at the change of subject – or change of bird, at least. ‘We use the island often and have left stock here to breed. The chickens have struggled a bit, but there are plenty of goats and boar if you trek through the trees and have the patience to catch them. The rats have thrived as well.’

‘How big is the island?’

‘About four leagues north-south and the same across at its widest, last time I looked.’

‘Last time you looked? Why do you say that?’

‘It’s vulnerable to the sea here, and changes shape with every storm. That’s why you’ll never find anyone living here, there’s no real shelter – do you see the trees?’

I did, they all leaned westward, to leeward.

‘Why did you become a pirate?’ I asked.

‘Look!’ Leo stopped and grabbed my arm, pointing along the beach. An enormous turtle was half-buried in the sand. ‘Fantástico! Turtle eggs for breakfast, they’re always a treat.’

I looked at him, he seemed a little too pleased at the opportunity to avoid answering my question, but then I hadn’t been too forthcoming with my own life story, either. As much as I wanted to know him better, I decided to allow him his reprieve.

‘What’s it doing?’ Sayba didn’t have many turtles, it was too rocky, and I’d never been this close to one before. Her shell was as long across as my arm, and she looked heavy and tired as she worked in the morning sun.

‘Look after these,’ Leo said and stood before taking the silk ribbon from around his neck and draping it around my own. Each end had a pistol secured to it, and was surprisingly heavy, but most of my attention was on the touch of his hands on my shoulders and my realization that we were out of sight of the ship and crew. My heart speeded up and I looked up at him, hoping he hadn’t noticed. Then I thought about what this might mean.

‘I’m not going to shoot the turtle!’ I said, alarmed, as he stepped away.

‘I’m not suggesting you do,’ he said, laughing. ‘Although if you can’t shoot a turtle, how are you going to shoot a man?’

‘That’s different, I’d shoot a man who was trying to shoot or cut me down, but that turtle isn’t threatening either of us.’

‘No, but she’s good meat.’

‘What, you’d eat her?’

‘Yes, of course, we all need fresh meat, and as often as possible in our way of life. It’s not always so easy to come by, and turtle meat is delicious.’

‘How on earth would you eat something like that? How would you even cook it?’

‘She’s very handily carrying her cooking pot on her back.’

I made no reply, it seemed cruel to just take her and eat her. She was paying us no heed at all – she had no idea of the danger she was in.

Leo laughed again. ‘Be calm, we’ll leave her, we don’t have time for a turtle hunt to feed the whole crew, but I do want her eggs.’

‘Is that what she’s doing, laying eggs?’ I asked, trying to ignore the fact that Leo was pulling his shirt over his head and off, but I found it hard to look away from the powerful shoulders and chest that marked him as a sailor. The tattoos pricked out on his skin stood out: a mermaid with an elaborate M underneath was a good likeness to the
Sound of Freedom’s
figurehead, and I noticed a sandglass inside a heart as well before I realized Leo was smiling at me.

Embarrassed to be caught staring at him, I said, ‘She’s finished.’ The turtle’s flippers dragged her bulk slowly out of the hole in the sand, and I had to admire her determination and obstinacy as she inched up the shallow sandy incline. She flung sand about to re-cover the hole, then started her slow shuffle back towards the water. Leo dug the sand back out and placed all the eggs into his shirt, then tied it carefully into a protective packet before the oblivious shelled leviathan had made it back to sea and relative safety.

‘We’ll have to get a move on,’ Leo said, all captain again. ‘That sun’s crept a lot further west than I thought. There – see that lump of driftwood?’

I nodded, strangely reluctant. I’d enjoyed the easy companionship we’d shared, but now he was all business. The wood was the first sizeable piece I’d seen on the beach, probably due to last night’s fire. Leo placed his shirt and egg parcel a few paces away, then stood to face me and lifted one of the guns still hanging from my neck. About the length of my forearm it was pretty unremarkable – except for the grinning horse’s head carved into the butt. The flintlock mechanism sat atop and just afore the butt, and I wondered why Leo referred to it as a ‘pecking bird’. I thought it looked more like a man clutching the flint to his chest as if he were about to run off with his booty.

‘Have you held one of these before?’

‘No, Erik wouldn’t let me near his guns – he kept them either locked up or on his person. I’m sure he knew who would be in my sights if he were careless.’

‘He didn’t strike me as a careless man.’

‘No.’

He held it out to me. ‘Feel the weight of it.’

I took it off him and grasped the butt.

‘Don’t point it at
me
!’

‘My apologies.’ Chastened, I turned and pointed the heavy gun at the lump of driftwood, then pulled the trigger. The flint struck the steel striking plate but, apart from a spark, nothing else happened.

‘They don’t work very well if they’re not loaded,’ Leo said, smiling anew at my embarrassment. Then he looked serious again.

‘I’ll show you how to use this, but I need you to pay attention. One stray ball could kill anyone aboard, and I’m not ready to fall just yet – certainly not by your hand.’

I nodded, but he hadn’t finished.

‘However difficult you find this on land, it will be three times as hard on the deck of a moving ship, especially charging your powder. One stray spark in the wrong place could send
Freedom
ablaze to the bottom.
Do not spill it
.

‘Another thing, neither pistols nor muskets match well with water, so make sure you always keep them dry. If your powder gets wet, or the metal rusts, you may die when you could have lived.

‘Next, if you have a gun in your hand you are more likely to be shot at in return.’ He paused. ‘And you’ll be more likely to kill.’

I looked at him, not knowing how to respond to that, but I didn’t have to.

‘Loading is simple.’ He took the horn of powder from me and poured a capful down the barrel before re-securing it and tucking it into the red sash wound around his waist. ‘Ball?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You have the balls – the shot,’ he said, smiling.

‘Oh . . . yes.’ I dug the small canvas bag out from the sash he’d given me when I first came aboard. My fingers were shaking slightly and I cursed them – and the fumble I made of untying the bag and extracting a lead ball about the size of my smallest fingernail.

Leo, still smiling, dropped it down the barrel, along with a greased patch of cloth which I also fumbled out of the bag. He slid out the ramrod from under the barrel, tapped down firmly and replaced the rod. Next he pulled out the pan to the right of the cock holding the flint, and poured in a little fine powder. He pulled the cock back halfway and asked, ‘Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to, no one will think any the less of you.’

That wasn’t true –
I’d
think less of me if I didn’t learn how to fight back. I nodded at him. My nerves were about being alone with a half-naked pirate captain rather than firing the gun. I held my hand out. He cocked the gun fully and gave it to me, but kept his hand on mine. He moved to my side, still facing me, put his other hand on my left shoulder and leaned against me. I was very aware that only the thin material of my shirt separated our skins, and my breathing quickened. I tried to breathe deeply, but that only made it worse. I focused on the weapon in my – our – hand.

‘Hold your arm out to full stretch,’ Leo murmured against my ear. I did as he asked, hardly aware of anything but him.

‘What are you aiming for?’

My heart pounded, then I remembered I was supposed to be shooting at driftwood. I moved my arm to the right, even closer to Leo’s body, so I was pointing at my target. More or less.

‘That’s it, try and hold it still.’

‘It’s heavy,’ I said, knowing full well that wasn’t the reason for my shaking barrel.

‘Take a breath.’ I heard Leo do the same, lips against my ear as he looked down the barrel with me. ‘Hold it, then breathe out as you pull the trigger. Then breathe out as you pull the trigger,’ he repeated. Oh yes, of course. I’d got distracted. I pulled the trigger, and banged my head against Leo’s.

‘Ay Caramba!’
he said, laughing. ‘I forgot to warn you about the blowback. Well done.’

‘Did I hit it?’

‘Well, no, try again. See if you can load it yourself, and this time keep your eyes open, it may help!’

I’d expected the gun to fire immediately the flint sparked, and I hadn’t been prepared for the enormous flash as the powder in the priming pan set off the main charge a moment later. For a second I’d been blinded.

I tried again. Powder and patched shot. Ram home. Cock. Aim.

‘Pan.’

‘What? Oh yes.’ I’d forgotten to fill the priming pan; my shot wouldn’t fire without that. I carefully filled the small pan and pulled the flintlock to full-cock. I held it at full stretch, away from my face (my hand not trembling nearly so much now that Leo had stepped back), and fired. Sand kicked up just to the right of my target.

‘Good shot!’ Leo exclaimed.

‘But I missed.’

‘Only just – they’re not that accurate you know. If that log had been a man you’d have aimed for his heart and got his shoulder – that’s enough to stop him. Hopefully.’

‘So I can join the next raid?’

‘Well, if you practise, we’ll see.’

‘What kind of answer is that?’

‘A cautious one. Time for one more, then we need to get back to
Freedom
.’

I turned to him, basking in his praise and attention, and he lifted his hand to my face. I jerked my head away and stepped back, then immediately realized by the look on his face that I’d misunderstood. He’d been trying to caress, not hit me. He looked shocked, then cold, and turned away from me.

‘On second thoughts, we should get back to the ship, the tide’s coming in and the wind’s getting up. I need to make sure she’s secure.’