Captain in Calico (15 page)

Unbelievably almost, the capture of the
Star
had been completed in a few minutes. Even now there were as many of the
Star
's seamen fit to fight as there were pirates, but the sudden double shock of the broadsides, followed by the fury of the boarding, had proved too much for them. One had cried ‘Quarter!' and then another, and in a moment the fight had been won and lost.

Rackham, with Penner jubilant beside him, and the eyes of every man in that crowded waist upon him, turned to the captain of the
Star.
Bankier's face was working with fury, and when Rackham addressed him he replied with an outburst which culminated in an assurance that he would see every man of the
Kingston
's crew rotting in chains before the month was out.

Rackham was amused. ‘We've heard the like before, so you can save your breath. You've a long pull ahead of you.' He stepped closer. ‘Now, then, where's your cargo?'

‘Find it yourself and be damned' was the fierce retort.

One of the pirates holding him growled and raised his fist, but stopped at a sign from Rackham, and Bankier's mouth twisted in contempt.

‘Observing the niceties,' he sneered. ‘We'll see your manners in a different light, no doubt, when you stand on the scaffold.'

Rackham considered him. There was something odd about this fellow's behaviour. He had seen captains of captured ships before – cowards, blusterers, cold, hard merchantmen, and those who were simply downright hostile. Bankier would seem to belong to the last category, but he was a shade sardonic for a man who had just suffered an ignominious defeat.

Abruptly Rackham turned away. ‘Hold him close, Ben. Ned, Bull, come below with me. We'll find the dollars for ourselves.'

He led the way below decks with Penner, Bull carrying an axe at their heels. Behind them came every pirate who could struggle down the narrow companion into the ill-lit ‘tween-decks. This was their moment, and they trooped below whooping and laughing like schoolboys. Lanterns were lit and they descended into the hold.

It was close and stuffy, with only a faint glimmer of light from the hatchway. Rats scampered away as the yellow glare of the lanterns illuminated the shadows, and Penner gave a yell of delight which was echoed by the men behind at the sight of the score or more heavily bound chests which lay between the sacks of ballast.

‘Glory be!' said the Major. ‘There they are, Johnny! There they are!' He thumped Rackham's back and started past him down the ladder. ‘Our fortunes made!' he crowed. ‘A king's ransom for us all! God bless His Majesty and Governor Woodes Rogers, say I!' He seized a padlock and rattled it. ‘Quick, quick! Let's have them open and see the pretty, pretty dollars!'

Even Rackham was laughing as they crowded round the chests, each with its locks sealed with great blobs of wax bearing the royal crest. They were like children, pushing and jostling to get near enough to touch the massive iron bands that bound the lids, shouting foolish computations of the contents and already spending in riotous imagination the fortune under their hands.

Rackham shouldered them away from the centre chest, a ponderous case with the arms of Castile worked in metal on the lid. It was secured by a stout padlock and chain, but Bull's axe would make short work of that.

‘Back and give him room,' he ordered, as Bull spat on his hands. ‘And when it's open keep your fingers clear of it. Look all you've a mind to, but leave the silver alone. Right, Davie.'

Bull stepped forward, swung the axe above his head, and brought it down with all his strength, the heavy blade biting deep into the hasp that held the padlock and striking sparks from the metal. A second blow shore the lock away, and there was an immediate surge forward by the men as Rackham prepared to throw back the lid.

‘Here they come', gloated a voice. ‘Let's be seein' them, Jacky.'

Rackham crooked his fingers under the lid and tugged it free. He heaved it back, and the gasp of expectation from the onlookers died stillborn as they stared unbelievingly at what should have been a mass of glittering coins and ornaments but was not. The chest was filled with stones.

Rackham gazed down at them in horror, and Penner actually fell back a step. For a full three seconds there was dead silence, and then Bull, with a horrible oath, expressed the bewilderment of all.

‘What the hell's yon?' His eyes glared from the stones to Rackham and back again. ‘They're stones; bloody stones!'

Penner thrust his hand into the chest. ‘It can't be … underneath … packed down …' His fingers scrabbled among the little rocks, tearing them aside. ‘Holy Saints! It must be here!'

‘Bubbled!' roared Bull, smashing his axe down in a frenzy of rage. ‘Bubbled! D'ye know what it is? It's a bloody blind! A blind!'

In a moment there was pandemonium. Men flung themselves at the chest, swearing and striking, pulling out the stones in the vain hope that the silver might be concealed beneath them. Others, less distracted, turned their attentions to the other chests, and one by one the locks were forced. But in each case the result was the same: the chests were packed with stone and shingle, with not the trace of a single coin among them.

Rackham stood like a man in a nightmare. All about him men were jostling and cursing, pouring out floods of filthy invective against Woodes Rogers, the King, and each other. As yet it had not occurred to them to turn their rage on Rackham, but he had no illusions that they would not remember him when their first anger was spent.

He forced his way to the ladder and mounted the second step. He saw Bull catch sight of him and throw out an arm to point at him, but before the denunciation could be spoken, Rackham had attracted the mob's attention.

‘Wait!' he shouted, and the noise subsided a little. They pressed round the foot of the ladder, glaring up at him. ‘This isn't played out yet,' he went on. ‘We don't know what it means …'

‘I know what it means!' shouted Bull, elbowing his way forward. ‘It means we've sailed like blind bairns after a shipful
of stones!' A roar of approval greeted this, and he went on fiercely: ‘Aye, and mebbe worse. Who's to say it's not a trap, eh? Tell us that!'

‘You hold your tongue!' shouted Rackham. ‘If you'd as much wit as you've wind you'd know that the one man who can tell us where the silver's gone is on deck, under guard, and that nobody baits a trap unless they know there's game to walk into it. And nobody knew that.'

‘Nobody but you and that red-headed bitch you've been tumbling,' began Bull, but his words were lost in the general uproar.

‘Get the King's captain! Up and get him!' There was a rsuh for the ladder, but Rackham, with Penner at his heels, was first through the hatchway with the disappointed pirates swarming behind them.

Word of what had passed had flown to the deck, and Ben and his guards were with difficulty restraining those who surged about the little group of white-faced officers. When Rackham appeared they fell back, and he advanced on Bankier, drawing his dirk from his waist.

Bankier was pale, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes as Rackham gripped him by the collar and presented the point of the dirk at his chest.

‘Now,' said Rackham, and his voice was strained and husky, ‘I'll ask you once, and that's all, and if you don't answer I'll put this knife through your throat. Where's the silver?'

Bankier knew it was no melodramatic threat; in fact he regarded his own fate, and the fate of his men, as foregone already. But he smiled even as the dirk pricked him beneath the chin.

‘The silver?' He spoke loudly, so that all should hear. ‘To the best of my knowledge it should be on its way to Charles
Town. Too far away for you, pirate. You'll never see it now – unless it's to Charles Town they take you for your hanging.'

‘Charles Town?' echoed Rackham. He stared into the sneering face, and then shook Bankier in his rage. ‘You're a liar! Rogers would never risk it in Spanish waters! He would be a fool, and that he's not.'

‘Less of a fool than if he sent it to Port Royal,' snapped Bankier, and Rackham knew he was telling the truth, impossible as it seemed. Rogers could not possibly have known that an attempt would be made on the treasure, and yet his dispatching of the
Star
to Jamaica as a blind was the kind of precaution that would appeal to his calculating brain. Rackham began to see a dozen reasons why Charles Town might be a safer destination, and knew again the sickness of despair.

The realisation of how they had been tricked brought an uproar of rage from the pirates. They surged about the officers, one of whom was felled before Ben's guards could protect him. Bankier's coat was half torn from his back, and he and his subordinates would have been battered to death on the spot if Ben had not hustled them up the ladder to the safety of the poop. Rackham mounted the ladder and faced the throng in the waist, but his attempts to make himself heard were drowned in the uproar.

Bull's voice was raised above the others. He thrust his way to the front, a fearsome figure towering above his mates.

‘The bastard's lying!' he shouted. ‘Charles Town be damned! Give him down here and we'll find soon enough where t'silver's gone!'

There was a roar of approval and a rush for the ladder with Bull in the van. He bounded up and stopped with a startled oath just in time to save himself from impalement on Rackham's dirk.

‘Wait.' The sharp command as much as the naked weapon made them pause. ‘There's no time for this. We'll deal with the prisoners as I think fit. In the meantime, there's this vessel to search and strip and make seaworthy again. Malloy, have Kemp sent to me from the
Kingston
, and signal Bennett in the sloop to come alongside. You, Bull,' – he let the point of the dirk fall away – ‘see that this brig's cleared of every dollar aboard.'

It was a shrewd reminder that there might still be some profit to be gained from their prize, and he was asserting his authority at the same time. Malloy, obedient by instinct, turned away, and as Bull hesitated, Rackham sheathed his dirk and ascended to the poop as though his orders were the end of the matter. For most of them the prospect of loot was enough, and there was a hurried dispersal in the waist in which Bull and his followers quickly joined.

Rackham summoned Penner, and the Major ascended the ladder slowly. The last few minutes had wrought their change in him: he was suddenly old and tired, and the high colour had faded in his cheeks.

Rackham drew him aside. ‘Look you, Ned, there's little time for what's to do. If things go ill we may find ourselves on a lee shore. We've promised these scum a fortune, and they haven't got it, but I doubt if they'll go the length of wanting our blood for a bit yet. They don't know where to go or what to do, and whoever can tell them is their master – for a time.'

Penner nodded. ‘And then?'

‘I don't know. I must have time – time to think, to see us safe out of this business somehow – you and me and Anne. Now, this is what's to do. Bankier and his men must go. If the like of Bull had his way they'd go over the side with shot
tied to their feet – after he'd had his fun with them. That I'll not have. I'm going to give them your sloop.'

‘The sloop!' ejaculated Penner. ‘Dear God, they'll never let you! Turn them free to set the Jamaica Squadron after us? Why—'

‘There's no other way. We haven't enough crew to sail three vessels. Don't fret yourself. I've sent for Bennett, and before Bankier's folk are put aboard I'll have the running rigging torn to shreds. They'll take long enough to set her right, and we'll be far away by then. Hell's gates! It's either that or murder them all!'

‘Aye,' said Penner doubtfully. ‘You may be right. Maybe they'll let them go at that. But what then?'

‘We'll split our crew between the brigs. The
Star
I'll give to Bennett. You and Anne – and Bull and any like him – will be with me in the
Kingston.
I want the worst of them under our hands. Then we can be away out of this damned stretch of sea, because before long it'll be too hot to hold us.'

Penner passed a hand over the grey stubble on his shaven head and looked about him, blinking against the heat as he surveyed the tangle of gear in the waist and the scars of the recent encounter. A dead marine was lying in the scuppers, his carefully powdered wig clotted with blood; two of the pirates were helping an injured comrade to hobble towards the forecastle, and from below came the shouts and crashing of Bull's searchers as they hurried through the ship.

‘And afterwards, then? When we've sailed – away? Where do we go?'

Rackham shrugged. ‘D'ye think I know? Perhaps I can find a way. If not –.' He took the Major's arm. ‘Get you to Anne. Keep her below.' A thought struck him and he laughed
bitterly. ‘D'you mind something. It was her plan, in the beginning – all this! I wonder, would she not rather be back with Bonney after all?'

He may have been near the truth: at least he was presently left in no doubt that with the disappointment of their enterprise Mistress Bonney's volatile temperament had again changed suddenly, and it appeared permanently, as far as he was concerned. She came to embarrass him at a critical moment when, Bennett having done his work of crippling the sloop, Bankier and his men were being forced to embark. Unfortunately Bull and his companions had finished their ransacking of the brig, and returned grumbling on deck, for they had found meagre spoils. At once Bull raised a tremendous outcry against Bankier's release, demanding that he should be kept and tortured to obtain possible information about the treasure, and but for the fact that Bennett, who commanded considerable respect, supported Rackham, the big Yorkshireman might have won his way. As it was the majority realised that there was little purpose in keeping the prisoners, and they were being herded down into the sloop with kicks and abuse while Bull damned Rackham for a bungler and a coward. It was at this moment that Rackham's eye caught a familiar figure in black stepping through the tangle of timber and cordage that still cluttered the gangway. Anne Bonney, broad-brimmed hat on head and rapier on hip, was skirting round the press of the pirates, and behind her, concern on his face, came Penner.