Perilous Journey of the Much-Too-Spontaneous Girl (14 page)

No.
She thought.
I can do this. I wanted this. It is not a proper battle. There won’t be any sort of battle.
She braced for more fire and scooped quickly, then wrapped the remaining edges of gunnysack over the top of her disgusting treasure and prayed no one would question her on the way to the chute room. Fifi mooed angrily at her as she left. “Go milk yourself!” Marguerite hissed back.

The chute room wasn’t hard to find. It was just below the kitchens in the belly of the ship. It was dark and a bit musty smelling. She only received a few strange looks as she passed her shipmates in the small passages with her smelly package. Marguerite heard Lucy before she saw her. She sat sewing a chute next to an older woman and laughing her merry giggle, despite the stress of the moment. Marguerite set her basket down at the entry and hurried to Lucy’s side. She tried to sound official.

“I have a special delivery for the
Renegade
, Miss Lucy. Could you assist me with delivery?” Lucy put down her sewing and looked up at Marguerite with a conspiratorial smile.

“Of course, Lady Vadnay.” The two walked casually to the pile of crates, and Lucy picked one up.

“No,” Marguerite stopped her and pointed to another crate that looked to be on its last leg. “That one.”

“I’m not sure it will make the landing,” Lucy questioned.

“Exactly,” Marguerite said. Lucy shrugged and handed it to her just as another
BOOM
sounded in the distance. This time, the ship did not shudder and rock, however.

“What on earth could they be shooting at? The sun isn’t even up yet.” Lucy wondered out loud.

“Those are traditional warning shots, probably from the
Renegade
. Captain Laviolette is letting them know we are serious about defending ourselves.” Marguerite took the crate back to her basket by the door, far from the other women. She picked up the gunnysack carefully and slipped it into the wooden box, then hammered the lid on securely. Lucy walked up to her carrying a fresh chute.

“Breakfast drop is in fifteen minutes. We always send special morning rations if there is a battle possible. You’re going to need this too.” She held out the small tangle of canvas and ropes.

“Oh, no I won’t.” Marguerite grinned. “All I need is a bit of chalk or charcoal. Ah!” She spotted a chunk on the main work table. She snatched it up and wrote
Special Delivery, Captain Laviolette
in block letters across the sturdiest plank left in the whole box.

“My goodness, what is that smell?” Lucy asked as Marguerite examined her handiwork.

“It’s a delicacy Captain Laviolette requested for the morning of battle.” Marguerite smiled as the other women caught wind of the crate and turned up their noses. Then she whispered to Lucy, “Remember, no chute.” The breakfast delivery began to arrive just in time to stop anyone from questioning the peculiar package.

Lucy nodded and laughed, then put the package in the midst of the shuffle as Marguerite headed for the deck. For a moment she hesitated, rethinking her joke, but she knew there was no danger this morning. Negotiations would be first, and then a battle only if the pirates were completely crazy and they couldn’t come to an agreement. She couldn’t imagine any small band of pirates being foolhardy enough to take on an entire fleet of French warships. More likely, they would bargain for their own safe release rather than demand any booty or attack.

She continued up to the deck. It had been far too long since she had seen the sky. Even if it was still full of clouds and pouring rain, she needed to be outside. She needed to smell the ocean air and to feel fresh wind on her face. The trap door she’d entered the first night on the
Henrietta
was easy to find. She grabbed a deck-boy jacket and flipped the hood over her messy up-do. She pushed open the door and prepared for a deluge of water in the face.

To her surprise, all was calm and clear. The sun was just about to break on the horizon to the east, making the whole world a gorgeous pink color. The clouds had all but disappeared, and a moderate wind blew up from the south. Marguerite’s spirits instantly lifted. She filled her lungs with cow-free air and smiled as she pushed off the black waterproof hood.

The scene was as close to magical as Marguerite had ever seen. Ships of all sorts bobbed and drifted on the winds. It was clear which belonged to King Louis, with their flowing black envelopes and bright silver crests. The brown support ships with the
Renegade
were notwithstanding. There were three warships in total, flanking three cargo ships. A little ways south of this great bobbing conglomeration was another group of four ships, hodgepodge affairs, nothing like the foreign vessels that attacked her ship last year. These aerships looked to be at least a decade old, patched with various parts from other ships, and crawling with crew.

Small, dark bodies moved over the decks and rigging of each ship, like ants on an abandoned picnic. She flipped down her goggles and adjusted the scope mechanism for a better view. They were definitely preparing for something, but Marguerite couldn’t tell if it was battle or retreat. She couldn’t imagine how in the world the pirates could think of taking on nine royal ships and bring back any bounty to speak of.

She flipped her goggles back up as Pierre scampered past, hauling a rope as big around as his leg. “Mornin’ miss.” Two other boys scampered to help him.

Marguerite nodded and then asked, “Only one warning shot this morning, Pierre?”

“Yes, miss. I doubt there’ll be a fight today with the whole fleet together now. The
Renegade
is at the head. She’s been chosen to lead should the rogues lose their brains.”

Marguerite noted the
Renegade
’s position was closest to the pirate vessels, but she agreed with Pierre, there would most likely not be a fight making this the perfect time for her to get off the
Henrietta
and get back on the ship she was commissioned to. She felt bad leaving Lucy and Louis, but she needed Outil, and she had words for Jacques.

As Pierre scampered off, Marguerite took note of the assets on deck. If she wanted to be of use and get herself off this ship, she was going to need a plan and some materials. There were ropes aplenty, random tools, mops, brooms and—ahh! An escape ship!

The
Henrietta
kicked in its propeller and began to head for the
Renegade
to make its morning drop as Marguerite quickly assessed the small aerdinghy. There wasn’t much to it. It was older than she was, had the tiniest speck of a motor and no envelope, no retractable glide wings, and the rudder was broken. How in the world was this supposed to save anyone?

She tinkered a bit with the engine and then checked the fuel tank—completely full. Then she realized it had an intake funnel for rainwater. Excellent. She checked to make sure no one was observing before she adjusted the throttle and pulled the start cord. The little monster coughed and chortled to life, then roared like a lioness awoken from a nap too early.

Marguerite slammed the off switch and ran for the hatch, ignoring the stares from the deck boys. There wasn’t a moment to lose. She barreled past other girls rushing to their duties, all the way back down to the belly of the
Henrietta
.

“Lucy! I need a chute after all, a big one!” Lucy looked up from her position at the drop hatch. Her goggles were askew, and her perfect hair flipped wildly in the wind. Marguerite noticed her box was second to last in line to go out.

“Hang on,” Lucy said to her coworker, then made her way to Marguerite’s side. “They are over here.”

Marguerite could see the
Renegade
’s deck coming into view through the hatch. She watched as the first crate was dropped and its chute popped open, guiding it softly onto the deck below. One by one the little crates were popped out in succession, like a giant dandelion being blown into the wind. “It must take a lot of skill to get them in just the right spot,” she commented.

“Yes, it does,” Lucy pulled a large pile of folded canvas from a bin. “These ladies have been precision dropping for years. This is the biggest chute we have. Don’t lose it or get cow dung on it, or whatever it is you’re planning.”

“Will do. Thank you, Lucy.” Marguerite gave her a genuine smile of appreciation.

“And be careful! I want to visit your fancy house in France and meet your bot, Outil. Can’t do that if you’re dead, you know.”

“Of course! Au Revoir!” Marguerite cried as she raced back up to the deck. Her legs burned from climbing all the stairs, and she was completely out of breath by the time she reached the little ship again. She began to secure the ropes of the chute to the hooks and holds of the aerdinghy, and occasionally she peered over the edge to the
Renegade
below.

By now its imposing black envelope was bellied up to their own brown one again. The two ships snuggled in the breezes like friends seeking shelter together. The parade of food was nearly complete, gauging by the size of the stack of crates on the deck below. A hand touched her softly on the back. Marguerite jumped in surprise and whirled around.“Excuse me, m’lady, but what are you doing with the old dingy?” Louis stood there with wonder in his eyes—or was that fear?

“Nothing, Louis. Get back to work and nevermind me.”

“But, I’m sorry, m’lady, if you’re planning to do what I think you are, those knots won’t hold you for two blasts of wind.” He indicated her neatly tied bows around the edges of the cockpit.

“Oh, well, I suppose that’s good to know,” she mumbled, unsure of what type of knot she could tie in its place. She was much better with machines and gadgets than she was with everyday nonsense such as rope.

Luckily, Louis was quick in both hand and mind. He deftly removed each tie and resecured them with much more complicated twists. “Excellent!” She patted him on the back and pulled her goggles back down and her hood up. She pulled the engine cord and climbed into the driver’s seat. There was only room for four people total. Such a useless rescue ship, she thought. The seat cracked and groaned with age, making her wonder about the stability of the entire vessel. Nevertheless, she tested the throttle again, and when she was happy with the state of things, she gave Louis a huge grin and shooed him away with her hand. He made as if he were going to climb in behind her, but she shook her head forcefully and yelled, “No!”

This was her idea, her scheme. Should it go awry, she wasn’t going to have anyone else hurt because of it. She’d already dragged enough people into deadly disasters in the past. She was willing to risk her own life to face Jacques once and for all, and to retrieve her bot, but not anyone else’s. Besides, all she had to do was drop and drift a bit with the aid of the small motor, and she would land on the deck of the
Renegade.

A gust of wind caught her chute, whipping it up and forward. She shoved the chute out of her way and checked over the side of the little ship again, just in time to see the second to the last box plummet without a chute and hit the deck with a loud
SPLAT!

“Ha!” She laughed out loud as she watched the deck hands scurry out of the way. She adjusted her scope and easily made out the figure of Captain Laviolette standing near the “special delivery” in his finest uniform, wiping at a cow dung stain and cursing. She could also still make out her charcoal message on the single board still intact on the pile of exploded cow dung.

Serves him right,
she thought.

The chute strained against the wind again. She had to get going; things were picking up. She looked back to Louis and started to pull free the latch hooks that held the dingy to the ship. She motioned for him to help her with the back ones, but behind him she saw Captain Butterfield stomping toward them. “Go!” She yelled as she climbed over the seat to reach the hooks herself.

Louis stayed, however, and popped the last two without worry for his own demise. Then he called out to her, “Don’t die, m’lady!”

She twisted back into her seat and fastened the harness just as the last hook came free, and the ship plummeted into open space.

This was a terrible, terrible idea.
Marguerite chided herself as she dropped like a rock out of the sky.

She revved the engine and pulled hard on the throttle, trying to get some forward thrust. The parachute whipped and whistled, occasionally hitting her in the head as it flipped in the upward wind. Then just as quickly, it caught on a gale and popped open, slamming Marguerite hard into her seat.

Terrible idea!
She repeated as the little ship bobbed a few times, and then headed right for her target, the deck of the
Renegade
. Except that her target was moving.

By the time Marguerite had secured her chute and cut the aerdinghy free of the
Henrietta
, they were already done with the food drop and sailing up and away from the larger ship, which was now sailing toward the pirate ships.

Excellent,
Marguerite thought.
All I have to do now is steer this little disaster of a ship to the giant moving target ahead of me. Easy as winding a gear.