Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (38 page)

I watched her go in disbelief. Everything she had said had been a lie. She hadn’t wanted me; she’d only wanted a boat – a command of her own. But I didn’t really believe it. I knew she loved me, I
knew
it. I’d pushed too hard, that was all, but it had to be said. I was captain. She had to do as she was told. She’d be back.

‘Break out the colours,’ I ordered.

The flag George had put together to complement Gabriella’s flew proudly at the masthead.

She didn’t come back.

‘You have the deck,’ I muttered to Frazer and went aft, shutting myself into what had been our cabin, a bottle of rum in each hand. I locked the door.

*

I walked back on deck to utter silence from my crew. I had only left the cabin in the last few days to collect more rum. They no doubt expected the same today.

‘Back to work! What are you all looking at?’ I shouted. One by one they turned from me, back to their tasks.

I stayed where I was for the moment, glaring at my crew, the sails, then the horizon. Nothing was in sight but sea, and I realized I had no idea where we were. There was no sign of
Valkyrie
.

‘She can take the fore-topsail as well, Blackman. See to it!’

‘Aye, Capt’n,’ he muttered, looking less than convinced, but immediately sent topmen up the foremast to unfurl the huge sail. Good. At least someone was obeying my orders.

I couldn’t see Frazer, so turned and entered the chartroom next to my cabin. He was there, hunched over charts with backstaff, traverse board and writing stick, plotting our position. I stood behind him and stared at the chart. We were south of Hispaniola and heading east.

‘What are you doing? Why are we headed for Jamaica?’ I demanded, stumbling a little as the deck heeled.

Frazer made to get up. ‘We’re carrying too much sail – what’s Blackman thinking?’

‘Leave him be. And leave the canvas, it’s about time we drove her a bit harder – give those lazy goats something to do instead of lounging about on deck all day with their pipes and rum punch.’

Frazer stared at me, but I couldn’t read any expression on his face. He pulled his stool close to the table again and resumed his inspection of the chart.

‘Why Jamaica?’ I asked again in the silence.

‘We’re not bound for Jamaica, we’re bound for Tortuga. The men need some recreation, then we can get back to taking plunder instead of pandering to bloody women.’

‘Watch your tongue, Frazer, no one pandered to Gabriella, she’s a full member of this crew and earned it.’

‘Was.’

‘Qué
?’

‘
Was
a full member of this crew.’

‘Is. She’ll come back.’

‘You really think so? After you hit her? Threatened her?’ I glared at him. ‘What were you thinking, Leo? You know, and we can all guess, what van Ecken did to her, why would she come back to you when you’ve shown the same colours as he?’

I stared at him in silence, turned and left the chartroom. Van Ecken. It was his fault. I had to do something. I had to show Gabriella that I was not van Ecken. I had to free her. I had to kill him for her. If only to stop her attacking Sayba herself.

‘Shake that reef out of the fore-topsail, Blackman! Let’s sail!’

‘But Captain, it’s too much, the rigging’ll part!’

‘Not if it’s been properly kept! And it had better be sound, or the man responsible will be up there making repairs under full sail!’

Blackman stared a moment, then relayed my order. He knew the dangers of working on the rigging under full canvas. Many men had died in falls as a result of a fiercely whipping line, but an order from the captain was an order from the captain, and he obeyed, just as the topmen obeyed him. That did not stop Newton glaring at me as he climbed. I stared back. The sooner we got to Tortuga, the sooner we could leave and attack Sayba.

Raid Eckerstad; kill van Ecken; appropriate Brisingamen’s gold; free Gabriella – it had been all I’d thought about whilst impatiently watching my crew carouse themselves senseless over the past two months. She’d come back to me as soon as she heard about this. This is what I needed to do to make amends. I had to succeed here or my life was lost – again. Everything that had gone wrong in my life was down to this one man and his cohorts. It was van Ecken who had terrorised Gabriella and made her scared of a shadow, who had sent her running at the feel of my palm. It was van Ecken who supported Blake and Hornigold. If not for van Ecken, I’d have sunk both buccaneers years ago, but van Ecken kept giving them safe haven to repair their ships, and when their ships were unseaworthy, he gave them new ones. It had to stop. I had to stop him, and I would soon have my chance – Sayba was just visible off my bow, darkness still shrouding her volatile peak.

*

‘Bear off a touch,’ I muttered. We had no lanterns lit in the early dawn light and navigated by the phosphorescence of sea meeting rock. I didn’t want to get too close, we had to stay invisible until our guns opened fire. I had remembered the intelligence I’d received from Cheval, and we approached from the northwest, past the beach where we’d made repairs almost a year before, past Brisingamen – van Ecken’s estate, past the gun placement that Cheval had assured me was rarely manned – he’d insisted an alert crew was only present when they expected trouble. Arrogant foolishness, if you ask me – when did trouble arrive only when it was expected?

On we crept in the gentle dawn breeze, my men silent. Only the creak of rigging and the swish of our passage through the waves belied our presence.

Boom!

A flare of black powder startled everyone aboard – the gun placement atop the cliff was not only manned, but primed by alert gunners. I cursed myself. Cheval! Of course he’d have apprised Hornigold of our layover here. He’d have known, given my animosity to both Blake and Hornigold, and now van Ecken, that I’d attack. It was reasonable to expect I would take the passage I knew, along the one stretch of coastline I’d already explored, and where I knew I’d be hidden from Eckerstad until the last minute by the headland.

Only moments ago it had seemed a risk worth taking. I now saw it for arrogant foolishness of my own.
Mierda!

Boom!

I ducked. Not that it did any good. The first shot had allowed the gunners to judge their range. They were good and their second shot was a direct hit, shattering the aft larboard quarter. I didn’t need to enter my and Gabriella’s old cabin to know it had been destroyed.

‘Return fire!’ I yelled.

‘Blackman – patch that hole, quick as you can!’

With the aft cabin open to the sea, I could not manoeuvre off this course. Wearing round meant turning and presenting my stern to the wind and oncoming waves. When the wind was dead astern, the Carib Sea would surge in. Nor could I tack – Sayba’s shoreline was in the way. I couldn’t steer off the course I was on. Badly damaged, all I could do was sail onward. Our – my – destiny was fated until my bo’sun could patch up my ship. I had to fight, not only my mortal enemies, but to keep ship and crew afloat.

‘Fire!’ I shouted – it was my only option.

The next ball splashed into our wake. I breathed a sigh of relief. We were out of range. I turned my attention from the cliff above and astern, and looked forward once again. Eckerstad would have heard the guns. We were no longer attacking a sleeping port. The men at the fort to the south of the town would be at the ready with primed guns. Any ships in the harbour would be ready to fire. The people of the town would be running to safety. I had no doubt van Ecken would be the first to hide. Still I could not wear round. Blackman was working as fast as he could, I could hear him cursing his assistants clearly – I couldn’t rest until the sound of his voice had been muffled by lead.

‘Ready bow and larboard guns,’ I shouted, trying to sound sure of myself to instil some confidence in my men; already knowing my plans were doomed.

‘Bow cannon find your targets!’ I wanted the six-pounders in the bow to target the biggest ships in the roads – the ones most likely to be carrying armaments.

‘Bows – fire!’

The largest ship in the harbour was hit by both ball. She fired back, but her crew were no master gunners. She missed.

‘Bow – fire again!’

No return fire – her crew were busy trying to save their ship, and themselves, from foundering. I didn’t think any of the other smaller vessels posed a threat to us, so concentrated on the town itself.

‘Larboard guns, fire!’

Shorefront buildings crumbled.

Boom!

The fort had opened fire. I had thought we’d be well out of range here in the northern reaches of the bay, but they had big guns, maybe even a thirty-two-pounder. Their first ball hit the water to starboard and a cable length ahead. Too close. My own guns kept up the bombardment on the town, my six-pounders wouldn’t trouble the fort from here, and I shouted at my crew to harden up – to sail as close as possible to the wind – to delay entering the range of those guns for as long as possible.

‘Blackman! What’s taking you so long? Get that patch fixed pronto!’

‘Nearly there, Capt’n!’

His voice was not nearly muffled enough, and in the meantime, we were sailing closer to the fort and her guns. We’d soon be within their range.

‘Fire larboard guns!’

There was nothing else I could do but cause as much mayhem as possible. I listened to the screams just audible from the shore:
is van Ecken’s amongst them?

Then a scream from my decks, a cry I realized had originated in many throats – including my own. A ball from the fort had found our main-topsail – the biggest and most powerful sail of our rig. Not only had it shredded the sail, it had knocked Thompson off his perch on the maintop – I’d find out later if he was dead – and destroyed the rigging holding the topmast aloft.

A tangle of wood, hemp and canvas descended on our heads. Frazer shouted at men to get aloft and cut away the topmast and attendant rigging – shrouds, ratlins, braces, sheets and the like – but I knew
Sound of Freedom
had never been more vulnerable.

‘Twin sail to the west!’

My heart lurched at Juaquim’s shout, but I spun to starboard and brought my glass up. I would not have believed things could get worse: holed, maintop sprung, mainmast itself in danger of following, fired on by Eckerstad’s fort. The only course
Freedom
was able to lay was dead ahead toward Eckerstad itself, and now two ships were approaching. Both flew blood-red flags: Blake and Hornigold.

I recognized
Freyja
, Hornigold’s boat, easily enough, but this was the first time I’d seen Blake’s new vessel, the
Dutch Pride
. My heart sank. Although I’d heard the Carib sailortown gossip of Blake’s survival, part of me hadn’t believed it. I hadn’t
wanted
to believe it, but I couldn’t deny it now. My glass picked out the familiar, heavily bearded figure on the quarterdeck of the three-masted ship. A little smaller than
Edelweiss
, the
Dutch Pride
was just as heavily armed. Both vessels headed our way.

‘Blackman!’ I roared, by way of encouragement.

‘Nearly there, Captain!’ came the muffled reply.

I looked up at the mess atop my mainmast and winced.

I looked to starboard at the fort – we couldn’t bear off in that direction. There were too many big guns.

I looked ahead – the shore was coming up fast, too fast, even with the loss of the main-topsail.

Now that we were past the headland and had water, my only option was to tack soon, and pray my hull and rigging would stand up to the strain.

Tacking was the hardest, and – in this situation at least – the riskiest manoeuvre a square-rigged ship could undertake. She had to turn through at least ninety degrees, with her bows passing through the wind. For a time we’d be going backwards. Away from the waiting shore, yes, but straight towards Blake and Hornigold, and we only had two-pounders mounted on the sternrail. The movement would put a great deal of strain on Blackman’s patch, and I had no way of knowing just how securely he’d been able to fix it. He was the bo’sun, not carpenter, the sails and rigging were his area of expertise, and I had no time to check his work myself. If only Gaunt . . . No, I could not think like that, could not get distracted. I had to focus on the moment, on this situation, and try and get us all out of it.

I looked up at the rigging again. If I tacked too soon, I could lose the mainmast – we’d be at Blake and Hornigold’s mercy.

‘Mierda!’

Even if we made it, we’d still have to run the gauntlet of Brisingamen’s headland gun, this time with
Freyja
and
Dutch Pride
in hot pursuit.

Mierda!

‘All clear for going about!’ I gave the first command to prepare the crew for the tack. I noticed a number of wild glances aft, but they all ran to sheets and braces, ready to haul the sails round. They all knew the stakes, especially as ball now hit the water both astern and close to starboard. Hardening up earlier had kept us at the limit of the fort’s range, although the current was slowly and inevitably dragging us into it. At least Blake and Hornigold were not quite near enough – yet.

I had no hands spare for the guns now, I needed all hands to trim the sails and do it perfectly. Our bombardment of Eckerstad stopped.

‘Helm a’lee!’ Thomas thrust the tiller to leeward to push the bows into wind.

‘Mainsail haul!’

Men shouted heaving chants as they hauled on mainsail sheets. I watched the rigging, trying not to show my crew my tension. The yards swung round. We all held our breath as we drifted backwards. If we were going to get stuck, this was when. If we were going to lose the mainmast, this was when.

‘Let go and haul!’

We made it. All we had to do now was set the sails on the new tack. I heaved a sigh of relief, we were round and the mainmast had held. Now I only had Blake and Hornigold to worry about – and the gun on the cliff top, of course. I pointed my glass towards my enemies and prepared my gunners to fight.