Quintspinner (45 page)

“Kneel on the cot behind Cassie and support her shoulders,” Tess instructed the bewildered boy. Tommy did as he was told, but looked suspiciously at Tess, any relaxation that had occurred within their brief conversation having quickly vanished.

“That’s just for looks,” Tess whispered to both of them, “in case any of them should break in here. Now here’s the plan ….”

Quickly she outlined the essential details. For the rest of the day, Tommy was to capture and kill as many rats as he could without raising any suspicion.

“I imagine that there are a few of them in the hold, right? Lodge a small iron ball from the ammunition stores into each rodent’s mouth to weigh it down and drop the carcasses into the rum barrels. Do not drink any of the contents from these barrels,” she warned, but from the disgusted look on Tommy’s young face, her warning was unnecessary. “Serve as much of the rum to as many of the pirates as you can tonight. We’ll do the same to the crew on the
Mary Jane.”
Confusion clouded both Cassie’s and Tommy’s faces.

“If you can drop enough of them in each barrel, the rats’ bodies will infect whoever drinks from those barrels. Within two days the symptoms will be showing,” she explained. “By midnight the night after next, just after the change of lookout from First Shift to Graveyard, most of the crew will hopefully be sickened with the rat-bite fever. That’s the time we’ll all make good our escape over the railings.” Ignoring their looks of disbelief and shock, Tess continued. “If, on that night, you cannot escape in the jolly boat, then jump over the side with something that will keep you afloat.”

Tommy and Cassie continued to stare, their raised eyebrows relaying their extreme uncertainty.

“Spread the word to those few you trust and any you want to come with you.” She looked meaningfully at Cassie.

“Put this on.” She held out the ruby spinner. Only then did Cassie see that Tess wore only the original sparkling blue tourmalines.

“The rings have an attraction for each other. I can take them off my fingers together and then force them apart, but each one seems to have a very strong draw towards the others.” She slipped the rubies onto Cassie’s finger. “If we come to be separated, maybe they’ll help us find one another. And if not … maybe their value will serve other purposes.” Tess did not want to spend any energy on the thought of this second outcome. She set her mouth in a determined line.

“We have only one shot at this. Our lives with the pirates will come to an end two nights from now. One way or another.”

The plan’s details seemed to be falling easily into place.
Too easily,
thought Tess. She had come to expect the unexpected. Since her brother’s untimely
birth–Good Lord, that feels like a lifetime ago,
she sadly reflected–nothing seemed to have gone according to plan. However, select barrels had been infected with the sick rats’ remains, courtesy of William’s keen eye and deadly aim with a knife, and Tess had spread word of the proposed escape to John Robert as well as to Mr. Lancaster.

She smiled to herself as she recalled her grandmother’s request. It had been the only time in Tess’s life that the woman had ever shown a scrap of embarrassment, yet she had shyly announced to Tess that, in her opinion, Mr. Lancaster’s presence would be desperately needed, both in the boat as well as on the shore to resurrect some sort of eventual shelter. He was, she pointed out to Tess, one of the few who could be trusted. Her grandmother’s cheeks had burned crimson with an adolescent’s blush but she had grinned when Tess had agreed with her assessment of the man. In her own case, Tess realized that she had assumed from the beginning, that William would be accompanying her. William had been delighted to be included, and had already played an integral part in setting the escape plan in motion.

That left only Edward to deal with.

Not really,
Tess reminded herself. She had played the part of the doting fiancée, delivering a large goblet of the infected wine and several refills to Edward in his cabin.

Right now, he’s probably sleeping it off, but by later tonight he’ll be burning up with the onset of the fever.
She hoped his case would be a severe one. The infection would bring on vomiting, joint and back pain, headache and disabling muscle cramps. Her grandmother had expected most of the crew to be incapacitated by the abrupt onset of these symptoms, making the escape far less likely to be challenged. Already the sailors on the First Dog watch had taken to their hammocks early, claiming to be unwell and unable to complete their shift, which normally stretched until the evening meal was to be served.

William and John Robert had taken the sick sailors’ places. Tess watched Gerta scampering and playfully head butting John Robert as he stood watch along the forecastle railing. The spirited she-goat seldom ventured so close to the railings, having, as all goats did, an intense dislike of being wet, whether it was from a rain storm or from the spray that splashed and misted over the ship’s sides. The forecastle deck was high enough however, to be out of reach of the splash of the oncoming waves as they were split by the ship’s massive keel.

Tess smiled when she thought of the young goat’s continued devotion to the large man. The two were nearly inseparable. In the doeling’s world, he was her herd mate.

John Robert reached down and scratched her between her shoulders, sending her tail into a flicking frenzy of pleasure. Impatiently, she butted the leg of her giant caretaker again, demanding more of his attention, her best efforts hardly registering against the enormous thigh. She was rewarded by another delicious scratch, which seemed to satisfy her for the moment, as she then happily bounded off down the stairs and galloped out onto the main deck. Suddenly skidding to a halt, the silken haired kid delicately sniffed the air, as if deciding in which new direction to next explore.

Tess returned her gaze to the ropes holding the jolly boat to the
Mary Jane’s
side. She tried to be casual about her visual attention to the boat’s details, not wanting to arouse any suspicions. She allowed herself to breathe several deep and relaxed sighs of relief.

The crews on both ships had been infected by now. She had managed to give one ring to Cassie, the other to her grandmother to wear. She had sewn her father’s microscope’s lens into a second layer in her bodice–it was the only item remaining to her as a family heirloom of sorts, although of what use it would come to be, she couldn’t imagine. She just felt an aching need to have something of her parents’–something to focus her memories of them on. Her dirk lay alongside her ankle, its sheath securely tied to her calf by her grandmother’s precious red ribbons.

Yes, everything was proceeding as planned.

But then Gerta began to sneeze.

Every year, the summer’s sun-drenched heated air, laid in an invisible layer over the waters surrounding the West Indies. It cooked the sea’s top layer into an evaporating highway that rose straight up into the upper atmosphere. Meeting the cooler temperatures there and influenced by the agitating winds, water droplets condensed into a pinwheel of thickening clouds, turbulence begetting turbulence. Because of such geography, this was the birthplace of some of the most vicious tropical storms and hurricanes on earth.

The powerful storm had started out as a small wisp, a combination of moderate winds and water, south of the tropical island chain, but as always, it built upon itself by the hour, the storm’s churning winds creating a vacuum in its centre, sucking up more of the sea, twisting itself faster and faster as it travelled. Such storms arrived without much warning, and all ships, under normal circumstances and regardless of their sizes or destinations, would use any lead time afforded to them to sail around the storm cell, giving it as wide a berth as possible.

Under normal circumstances. Unfortunately, the
Mary Jane
and the
Bloodhorn
were presently caught up in very abnormal circumstances.

The two ships shared crew and sailing intentions, therefore independent decisions were rarely made. As well, the crews had not yet come to a definite choice of captain to replace Carlos–bickering, petty jealousies, and split loyalties had hampered such a decision–and a mysterious illness had swept over nearly all aboard, leaving very few fit enough to reef let alone furl the enormous sails, even had there been anyone in charge to give such definite orders.

As it was, the pirates aboard the
Mary Jane
put no stock in the prophetic temper tantrums of one diminutive goat, and any such protective lead time was therefore forfeited. By the time clear sight was lost in the dwindling twilight of the evening, and the singular lookout spotted the heady bulge of the ominous cloud formation on the horizon, the ships were squarely in the storm’s pathway.

Darkness at such latitude arrives rather suddenly, quickly extinguishing the fiery tails of the setting sun. For those aboard the two ships, evening’s cloak slipped over them before the power of the impending storm could be fully realized.

Had they been able to see more than the massive cloud’s tip building just beyond their horizon, the captives’ escape plan might have been postponed.

Had those on the
Mary Jane
had any way of communicating with Cassie and the others on the
Bloodhorn,
the escape plan might have been postponed.

Had there been a longer window of opportunity which was determined by the sickness that simultaneously affected both crews, the escape plan might have been postponed.

And had Tess heeded the insistent worried thoughts that flooded her mind along with the fierce itch that had returned to her finger beneath her tourmaline ring, the escape plan might have been postponed ….

As it was, none of these came to pass, and Tess, William, John Robert, Mrs. Hanley, and Mr. Lancaster met as arranged, at the side of the
Mary Jane
where the jolly boat was lashed. In fact, they were grateful for the presence of the building winds and rougher seas, as it demanded the full attention of those freshly posted on the Graveyard watch. Among their group, only John Robert seemed to be distracted–Gerta had gone missing, hiding out somewhere in anticipation of the squall.

The oncoming storm first announced its imminent arrival with swelling seas–angry, froth–capped waves roared towards them with unnerving speed–and the winds propelling these white caps shrieked through the masts and riggings, creating an ungodly whistle.

“On deck! All hands on deck!” The urgent cry went out just as the first of many towering waves smashed over the main deck’s railings. A cold green tidal wave of salt water, thigh deep, swept across the deck, sucking any loose items along with it into the sea as it exited on the far side of the deck.

Fear began to cloud Tess’s mind. She had thought of nothing else these past two days except what it would be like to be free and back on land. She had spun her crystal blue ring and reflected on the tantalizing thoughts of life ashore. At times she swore that she could smell the sweet perfumes of the tropical flowers that surely awaited them there. Daydreams of what she hoped lay ahead had filled her with fresh faith and courage. But now, to leave the big ship seemed suicidal. It had weathered many storms and survived. There was still water, some food, and a scant supply of medicines aboard. Surely the small boat would be immediately swamped in the tossing seas. Creatures lurking beneath the watery surface would feed on them. She would never see Cassie again.

Cassie!

Tess peered across the chasm of boiling sea but the
Bloodhorn
was hidden behind a curtain of heavy rain that had begun to fall. There would be, as there always was during rough seas, a ‘lights out’ standing order. She closed her eyes, habitually spun her tiniest ring, and concentrated her thoughts on Cassie, welcoming the intuitive impressions into her consciousness.