Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (19 page)

I doubled up, trying to catch my breath.

‘I think we’ve lost them.’ I gasped.

‘Oui
,
’ Cheval said. ‘I can’t hear them any more.’

‘So that’s why you left Hornigold,’ I said. ‘It’s good to get the whole story at last!’

‘That’s
not
the whole story, Capitaine
,
’ he snapped. ‘It
was
an accident! We caught a big windshift on a dead run. We gybed before I even knew what had happened. The boom crashed over into Sharpe and the mainsheet block caught him in the eye. There was nothing I could do!’

‘So why jump ship?’

‘He challenged me to a duel with pistols.’ Cheval’s voice and tone were quieter now, and I realized he was ashamed. ‘Sharpe is the best shot I’ve ever seen – I wouldn’t have had a chance, even with him losing an eye.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Hornigold knew it was an accident. He believed me, but he couldn’t overrule his new quartermaster – the crew wouldn’t have allowed it. He gave me the option of leaving unharmed rather than die on the beach at Sharpe’s hand. So I left
Freyja
– I didn’t even get my share of the booty!’ He sounded indignant again. ‘And all because of that one-eyed cochon!’

I nodded. Only Cheval knew the truth. Wrongfully accused or petty, jealous and vindictive? I took my pistols from my sash, loaded them and hung them around my neck so the shot wouldn’t fall out. Cheval did the same.

‘We need to get moving.’ It was my only comment.

Left, right, left, left, right. I could hear the sea and the shouts of men loading supply vessels, but the labyrinth of narrow alleyways did not make it easy to find, especially when having to avoid Hornigold’s men. I still had my bearings – just – but was becoming frustrated. Cheval was no better.

*

Halfway down yet another filthy alley, we came face to face with two men who looked like they had already been in one fight today and moved as stealthily as we did. Cheval and I drew our cutlasses immediately and started our advance. We had to be aggressive to get out of here, but I did not want to waste my shot unnecessarily. They held blades of their own, but only daggers – we wouldn’t have any trouble with these two. They moved and I got ready for an attack, but instead of lunging they grabbed their shirts and lifted them.

I stepped back in surprise at the sight of breasts, and just had time to note more bruises and a valuable amethyst before all thoughts of fight flew from my head. They were women! In shirt and breeches! In the back alleyways of Eckerstad’s sailortown!

I turned at Cheval’s snort of laughter, and when I looked back they were gone; running at full speed back the way they’d come.

‘Mon Dieu! That was Gabriella van Ecken!’ Cheval snorted again, hardly able to contain himself. ‘That was van Ecken’s wife!’

So
that
was who they were looking for. I breathed a sigh of relief. Hornigold did not know we were here. Van Ecken was not hunting us. Then I remembered Sharpe; but he didn’t know me, only Cheval. I still had a chance at Hornigold.

‘Come on Second, vamos. We need to keep moving. And will you stop that awful noise!’

He nodded and calmed, though continued to snigger for a while longer, and we walked to the next junction. I peered around the corner, and froze.

‘Silencio! It’s Hornigold!’

Cheval stopped laughing.

‘Who’s with him?’ I asked and stepped back to let Cheval look around the corner to identify the man with the English pirate.

‘Van Ecken,’ he whispered when he drew back. I stepped forward to have another look at the man in league with my enemies. He was fairly short with a tightly-curled, over-elaborate, long golden periwig and exaggerated moustaches. He was dressed expensively in a green and gold frockcoat, even in this heat. Good quality breeches, silk stockings, and shoes adorned with large gold buckles looked incongruous in the filthy alleyway.

They were coming closer, close enough to hear what they were saying. I had to do this quickly.

‘—find my wife Hornigold, or I’ll have your ship
and
your head.’ Van Ecken spoke loudly. ‘That bitch is going in the cage and I’ll watch her thirst to death and laugh as the birds peck out her eyes!’

I thought of the women I had just seen. I could understand why they’d risked all to get away from this man. For a moment I wanted to kill him almost as much as I wanted to kill Blake and Hornigold.

‘Are you ready, Second? This may be our chance.’

I looked at him and realized by the look on his face that he did not have my back. His argument was with Sharpe, not Hornigold. I remembered our altercation on the beach six months ago. Sharpe was right; I may well end up with a knife in my back from my second mate.

More noise. I snapped my head back to the men in the alley. Sharpe had joined them, along with half a dozen others.

I raised my first pistol, but Cheval grabbed my arm.

‘Non, Capitaine, there are too many and the sound of the shot will bring more. If you shoot, we’ll never get away, and you’ll not hit him at this distance anyway.’

I dropped my arm. He was right. Whatever his motives, he was right. A pistol ball was only likely to find its target at close-quarters, and I had but two guns – against eight heavily armed men.

‘Very well, we’ll get back to the wharf and
Freedom
. If Gaunt’s finished we can attack from the sea.’

*

Finally – water. We
were out of the web of taverns and stews. I examined the wharf; only the same two men we saw before, the others were scattered throughout the alleyways.

‘Quickly!’ I hissed. ‘Pretend we’re rumsoaked and let’s get out of here.’

We staggered on to the wharf, Cheval singing in French, and made our way to the longboat. The two men we’d met earlier saw us, but only laughed, and Cheval greeted them like long-lost friends. He was overdoing it.

I glanced to my left at the supply boat getting ready to cast off, and blinked. Those women were aboard. The white one – Gabriella van Ecken – was fumbling with the forward mooring line; she obviously had no idea about knots. I stepped towards her, released the line and threw it to her. I almost winked, but stopped when I saw the terror on her face and raised my hat instead. A crewman pushed off and she was on her way.

‘Buena suerte
,
’ I muttered under my breath. ‘Good luck. You’re going to need it.’

A shout from Cheval brought me back to my own predicament, and I made my way towards him, bumping into him to get him moving again. The longboat was less than half a cable away and we hurried towards it.

‘Avast! Stop right there!’

I glanced back to the alleyway at the far end of the wharf. Mierda! Sharpe! I followed Cheval’s example and ran. We jumped in and I pushed off with the oars – we did not have time to raise the sail.

‘Running again, you lily-livered cove?’ Sharpe shouted. ‘I’ll see you again Cheval, you won’t be able to run forever!’ He fired his pistols, but the balls hit the water. We were already out of range, even for such a good marksman. He turned back. He didn’t have time to come after us; he had other business to take care of today.

I looked at Cheval, who was hauling the mainsail slowly up the mast. I may not have reckoned my debt with Hornigold, but I did know a lot more about my second mate, and I did not want him aboard my ship. He was still loyal to my enemy.

He tied the halyard off and turned to move aft. I took my chance; I freed the leeward oar from its rowlock and swept it across the boat. It hit Cheval in the belly and he tumbled over the side.

I grabbed the tiller and hauled the sail in. I looked back once; he hung on to the oar I had dropped and screamed insults. I had another enemy, but at least he wouldn’t get within a blade’s-length of my back anytime soon.

Is she lifting?
I held my breath and tried to translate what the wood beneath my feet was telling me.
Freedom
rolled slightly in the surf, righting herself, but was she lifting off the sand?

It had been a nervous wait for the flooding tide. Almost two weeks after the equinox, the high tide mark on the beach had retreated every day. Would we be able to get
Freedom
off this beach? My men had dug out her stern, and warps were paid out to anchors and boats standing by to pull her off the sand; but two boats and a couple of kedges would not be able to drag my 245 tun ship out to sea if the tide did not lift her first. I could not use the sails to help – the proximity of the cliff meant the wind swirled around us and was more hindrance than aid.

There! Her stern definitely lifted!
We
had
to put off on this tide. We’d spent the night on high alert, watching out for
Freyja
and preparing
Sound of Freedom
for sea.

I’d realized on my solo sail back to the beach from Eckerstad that sending Cheval over the side had been a mistake. If Sharpe found him first all would be well, but what if Cheval found Hornigold before Sharpe had a chance to kill him? Cheval wouldn’t hesitate to bargain his knowledge of the whereabouts of Tarr’s killers for his life. How soon would they give up the search for those women and come for us? I was surprised they hadn’t attacked overnight – maybe Cheval was still hiding, but he couldn’t hide forever, and I couldn’t wager on having any more time than this morning to get clear.

There! Lifting again!
I reckoned we were free to the mainmast now, but when would the tide turn? Would we have enough brine to free our bows?

One more wave, then time to haul.

‘
Stand by
,’ I shouted to the men at the capstan.

‘Take up the slack.

‘Haul away.’

I waved to Davys standing on the poopdeck, and he signalled to the boats. My men put their backs to their oars, and the capstan on the foredeck turned and wound in the anchor warps.

Nothing.

Another wave.

Nothing.

Then a larger wave lifted us further than before.

‘Haul,’ I shouted, and we moved. Just a few inches, but we moved.

Next wave. More inches.

And again.

And again.

We crept backwards down the beach.

Now we moved feet rather than inches, and more and more of the hull was lifted with each wave.

A little more.

A little more.

Picking up speed now – almost clear. Then, with a sucking, scraping noise, the bow freed itself from its tomb of sand, and we rushed seaward, the next large wave stopping us dead when it smashed against the stern and showered us with salted rain.

I looked forward and laughed – the men at the capstan were too exhausted even to cheer their efforts and were slumped over their bars.

‘Cut free the anchors!’ I shouted and Gaunt took an axe to the warps stretched between anchors and capstan. We had no time to recover them; we’d replace them from our next prize. The men at the capstan stood at my shout – all except one dozy swab who collapsed to the deck as the tension on the capstan was released with Gaunt’s axe.

*

‘
Set the jib
.

‘Let fall the main-topsail.’

Setting those two sails should give us enough way to steer in the gentle landbreeze blowing off the shore with the maximum amount of manoeuvrability, but I still needed the pinnace and longboat ahead on warps. Ideally I’d rely on the boats alone and not set any sail until we were through, but we’d needed the highest point of the tide to get us off the beach, and it was already falling. We had to do this quickly; we could ill afford to be stranded here, forced to wait for the next flood tide. We had to get away from Sayba. Now. Between sail and oar, we should be able to ease
Freedom
through the reef.

I took the helm myself and wished I had Frazer’s company at the tiller. Gaunt and Blackman were below with a working party ready with lead sheets if we hit, and I had half a dozen pairs of the sharpest eyes at the forerails standing by with boathooks ready to fend off. They kept a close eye out for the swirling eddies of water that gave away the positions of submerged rocks, as did Juaquim from the maintop platform. A dozen of my strongest hands were in the boats, with Thomas and Phillippe as coxuns, and the rest were split between the sheets and braces for the sails and manning the pumps. I did not have a hand spare.

I looked ahead at the rock that Cheval had called Lookout’s Rock, then aft at the cliff, trying to line up the two transit points. I could see the clump of trees that I had to keep dead astern above the cabins, but would need the advice of my forward lookouts to keep the rock just off the larboard bow. I did not have water to make mistakes.

I shouted forward to Alonso, one of the lookouts, who was tasked with relaying my orders to the boatcrews. He signalled the boats to pull
Freedom’s
bows to starboard, and I pushed the tiller over. There. We were lined up.

I shouted forward again, but Thomas and Phillippe had already straightened us up.

We sailed into the reef – Juaquim shouting out the position of the channel ahead, which only he could see. The day was bright and clear, and from forty feet up the mainmast, he could see clearly into the azure water. But I also knew the sun sparkling off that water could easily blind him, maybe only for a moment, but that could be enough for him to miss a blade of rock. If that happened,
Freedom
could be lost with all hands. I really should have been more circumspect about how I’d dealt with Cheval. He’d been here before; done this before. As it was, I was the only man aboard who had passed back out through the reef – but that had been in the small longboat.

‘Larboard, Captain,’ Alonso shouted from the bow, and I pushed the tiller to starboard to swing the bows round – but not too much. The men forward strained over the starboard rail to fend us off from a threatening rock.

‘Starboard, Captain!’ Juaquim shouted from above and I reversed the tiller. There was no going back now, we had nowhere to go and the passage was tight. The tide had definitely turned and was falling quickly. I remembered scraping over the reef on the passage in and felt dread in my belly – we weren’t going to make it. We’d wreck on the rocks and be an easy target for Hornigold and
Freyja’s
guns.

We picked up speed with the tide, sailing faster into the gauntlet.

‘How’s it looking, Juaquim?’ I called.

‘Clear ahead, then larboard by my mark,’ he shouted.

I nodded and took a deep breath.

‘Warps slacking, Captain!’

Mierda! We’re faster than the boats!

‘Tell them to put their backs into it!’ I yelled, knowing that Thomas and Phillippe would have recognized the danger and would already be working the boat crews hard.

‘Larboard!’ Juaquim shouted, and I put the helm over.

Nothing. We didn’t have enough way on to counteract the pull of the tide.

‘No steerage!’ I shouted. ‘Fend off at the starboard bow!

‘Loose the topsail!’

The big sail above and forward of me cracked as it was set free and flogged loudly in the sudden silence on deck.

‘Brace yourselves!’ Juaquim shouted down. ‘Rock to starboard!’

Freedom
shuddered as she hit, and I heard the nightmare sound of splintering, snapping wood; and imagined water gushing into my newly repaired ship. I could only hope the hole was small enough that Gaunt and Blackman could get a lead patch on it, and quickly.

‘Stop gawping and get those pumps working!’ I shouted at the men staring over the side. ‘And push us off that rock, we’re not out of this yet!’

I stumbled as
Freedom
jerked to larboard. The boat warps had tautened and the oarsmen were dragging us off.

‘Set the topsail!’

The flogging sail was hauled back into submission and sheeted home.

We were through. Holed, making water and exhausted, but away from the shore.

I turned at a thumping noise behind me and a Scottish voice. ‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’

Frazer, on crutches, fever gone. I moved to greet him, but stopped at Juaquim’s shout: ‘Sail oh!’

‘Where away?’ I called.

‘South.’ He pointed. ‘A twinmaster, by the looks.’

The elation I’d felt at getting off the island and my quartermaster’s recovery was crushed into despair. A twinmaster to the southward? The bearing of Eckerstad? It could only be one vessel. I trained my glass south. Yes.
Freyja.