Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (78 page)

Once this charade was complete, we were finally allowed to board the larger craft and return to the mouth of the river and our ships. The treasure had still not been shared out, though; as that needed to be done after an accounting had been made of the survivors. The ships would not sail until the booty was shared. Gaston and I obviously did not care about receiving our share, but we were concerned that ifwe tried to slip awayto the
Josephine
too far in advance of the ships sailing, Morgan would have ample time and opportunity to harass and search the vessels to find us.

We were also deeply worried that Morgan had not approached us at any time during the return journey. We had fully expected him to ask us how we intended to leave the Isthmus ofPanama, and thenmake supposedlyfriendlyoffers for us to sail with him to Jamaica. But nay, he had abandoned all pretenses since that day in the church. We were also under constant watch.

Being unsure ofwhat would occur in the days ahead, we said our farewells to Cudro and Ash before we arrived at the river mouth. It was difficult and disheartening to pretend to be casual about the matter when we all knew we might not see one another again for months, if not forever. But pretend we did, so that Morgan’s spies would have nothing undue to report to him. We were very careful about giving them our great bundle of

letters.

 

letters.

As our vessel neared the wharf, we gathered our things and made ready to disembark and thread our way through the crowd ofmenunloadingthe canoes into the storehouse, and then make our way up the path to the fortress to find our friends and attempt to hide for a time. Once in the castle, we were hoping to find either a gate in the palisade, or that Peirrot had not repaired the hole the buccaneers had used to enter. Ifwe could slip out at night throughthe fort’s rear defenses, we thought we could easily lose our watchers in the dense forest beyond the fort’s apron, and thus make our way undetected down to the shore where we could swim to the
Josephine
or whatever other ship Pete and Peirrot might suggest.

We had no more stepped off the boat than we were hailed by Captain Norman, Morgan’s close friend and the master of the sloop,
Lilly
. There was a great deal of activity between us and him, but looking over and around the men carrying treasure across the wharf, I was able to see he was not alone: he had several strong and healthy men with eager eyes beside him. Theywere alllookingat us.

“Run,”I said.
“Oui,” Gaston said as we dropped the medicine chest and forced our way around milling men to the winding path leadingup to the fort.
We ran. Norman gave chase. Gaston and I were in far better physicalconditionthanNorman’s men:we had not spent a month in Panama drinking and eating to excess. Still, we knew we could not lose them by simply achieving the castle first; and

all they had to do was make some charge against us and the

all they had to do was make some charge against us and the whole army would be upon our heads. Thankfully, as of yet, Normanhad not beenhowlingfor anyone to stop us.

The buccaneers in San Lorenzo were busy eating— every gaunt and tired-looking one of them. We ran around throngs ofthemhuddled around cook fires and made our way to the palisade of the southern wall. There was a gate, and thank the Gods, it was open. We almost ran down a man entering with fire wood as we darted out onto the apron and toward the woods. I still did not hear Norman sounding an alarm. I supposed we were very lucky Morgan wished to keep our abduction discreet. I did not think he would have any trouble turning the fleet against us on any mockery of a charge; but apparently, he did.

My every breath was a whispered prayer for our continued good fortune as we hit the woods. Like every tropical forest, the damn thing was thick with trees, bushes, and vines; to the extent that I often thought one could cut down a tree and not have it fallbecause it was so entwined withits neighbors. We ran down swaths of damage cut during the battle six weeks ago. Between the buccaneers and the cannonballs, the woods were honeycombed for a hundred yards. Unfortunately, it was a maze, and we were not sure where the buccaneers had cut a path into the area when they arrived. We could hear men behind us as we ran along the wall of wood seeking a path that we did not have to hack with cutlasses. Gaston finally darted right and towed me withhiminto a narrow naturalpathway.

If it had been night as we had planned, it would have been very easy for us to disappear and let the men run right past been very easy for us to disappear and let the men run right past us; but in the day, despite the dappled shadows we raced through, our pursuers could clearlysee us and where we went.

I glanced back and saw a man entering the pathway. He was yelling he had found us and for his friends to follow. I pulled a pistol and only paused long enough to fire with a steady hand. ThenI was runningagain. I did not hear himbehind us. I did hear the shot that roared past myhead, though.

And Norman yelling at the man who fired it. “Nay, you damnfools! Theycannot be killed! No pieces!”
They cursed and complained and tore through the brush behind us.
The pathwe were onended at the top ofa cliff—a steep cliff: the fall would surely break bones. We cursed in surprise and clung to branches to keep from falling. Gaston dove back into the bushand sidled sideways betweentwo trees. His musket caught on the branches and he tore it off his shoulders and dropped it along with his bag. I discarded all I carried save the weapons at my belt. We clambered through the brush until we found a hollow. There we hunkered down to catch our breath

and listen.We heard our pursuers find our muskets and bags. Then

 

we heard thembeginningto scuttle throughthe forest toward us.

Gaston pressed me down and threw leaves and mud over me. He crouched next to me and I covered him with greeneryas muchas I could. We pulled knives and waited.

Two men rushed through the hollow and out the other side. The third came out of the forest at a different place and tripped over us. Sadly, he cursed loudly before Gaston could get tripped over us. Sadly, he cursed loudly before Gaston could get a hand over his mouthand I could put a blade inhis ribs.

“Barret?” the fourth man called as he dove into the hollow. “Here!” he roared as he spied us. It was his last word, but it did not matter.

The first two men were returning, and we could here severalmore approachingfrombehind.
“Cover me!” Gaston hissed. He began to squirmthrough the underbrushat the back ofthe hollow.
I had barely started reloading my first pistol when one of the first two men to pass us re-emerged into the hollow. I shot him with my second pistol. The forest to my right erupted with curses, some distant and some all too close. The second man emerged and I dove at him with a knife. He blocked me with a cudgel and we were locked together. He was far larger than I, and possessed of the inexorable brutish strength I can only counter with speed or guile. I kneed himin the groin, and flipped himover and got a blade inhis back whenhe doubled.
“Will, come!”Gastoncalled fromthe brush.
Three menburst fromthe forest.
“Too late!”I cried. “Run!”
I fought, but the quarters were too tight. I stabbed one with the dirk in my left hand and managed to slice another with my knife. Then the one behind struck my leg with a club and I beganto go down. The manI had slashed was swinginga cudgel at my head. Then he was gone, bowled over to my relief and dismaybyGaston. I turned onthe third man. He went downwith two blades in him. Then another man arrived. As we turned to him, Norman dove fromthe woods and hit me with a club in the shoulder. My right arm went numb and I dropped my blade. Then there was a blow to my knee from a man I did not see. I saw three men atop Gaston, beating him down. Then stars exploded inmyeyes and allwas dark.
I woke to Gaston growling. There was slowly wavering lantern light and the low rumble of men’s voices. I was in the hold of a ship. My matelot crouched above me. There were chains on my wrists. I scrambled to sit, my vision swamand my head threatened to explode. Gaston—deeply in the grips of his Horse—helped me rise. I entwined my fingers with his and squeezed, and he returned mygrip withferocious need.
“Oh looky there, the other one’s awake now,” a man

said. I looked toward the light and saw a group ofbuccaneers

 

sittingaround animprovised table playingcards.

 

“Wonder if he’ll be as much fun as the other,” another

 

mansaid.“Mayhap he can shut his man up,” the first one

responded.
“Shut it,” another man said. “Ya heard the Captin. No
talkin’ to ’em, no baitin’ ’em.”
“I’m not doin’ neither,” the first man said. “I’m
complainin’ ofthem, not to them.”
“Aye, they killed Hen and Johnny, and Boca and Barret,
and the surgeon says Parrot and Gratch won’t live,” another
said.
“I am sorry,” I interjected. “Our capture is a death
sentence; youwould have done the same ifit were you.” They frowned and did not meet my gaze except for the
man who had told the others not to talk to us. He stood and
came around the hatch steps. Gaston tensed, and I gripped his
hands tightly and hushed him. As the man approached, I
recognized the man as the
Lilly’s
quartermaster, but I could not
think ofhis name.
“The Captinsaythere be rules. Ya don’t be talkin’to us,
and we don’t talk ta you.”
I nodded.
“Ya break the rules—an’ that not be the only one—an’
ya get chained onopposite sides o’ the hold. Ya understand?” “MayI ask what the other rules are?”I asked. “Captin’ll talk ta ya later. They just mainly be that ya not
cause trouble or tryta escape.”
I nodded. “Maywe have some water?”
He nodded and walked down the hold to scoop water
froma barrel. He returned withtwo buckets:one was emptyand
the other had the water and a ladle.
“Thank you,”I said.
He nodded curtlyand returned to his card game. I looked to Gaston and found him glaring at the men
again. “Hush, my love,” I whispered in French. “You will only
tire yourself. Please, let us have some water.”
His breathing was fast and shallow, and I understood, I
truly did. I knew if I did not concentrate on controlling myself, I
would succumb to the maelstrom and my Horse’s need to
screamand tear at the chains.
“I will hold you,” I assured my man, “and the Gods will
hold me. If They love us at all, which is a thing I do not feel
consideringour circumstances.”
I scooted the water bucket closer and sipped from the
ladle. My body told me the liquid was sorely needed. I
wondered how long I had been unconscious. It was dark above
the hatch. The hold was empty save for men: they had not
loaded any treasure yet. It could have been the night of the day
we were captured. It could have been the next, but I did not feel
that to be so.
I offered Gaston the ladle and he drank readily enough
to prove he had not lost himselfbeyond good sense. I examined our bonds. We were chained hand and foot,
witha little less thantwo feet betweenour wrists, and a little over
two between our ankles. There was another three feet of chain
running between my left bracelet and his right, and the same at
our ankles. Those chains were connected to a large chain that
ran to a hefty bolt planted deep into a substantial beam. Left
alone, we could probably worry it from the wood given enough
time. I felt that would not fall within Norman’s rules, however. It
was also likely we would not be allowed the privacy to conduct
suchanendeavor, either.
“Could you sit and hold me?” I asked Gaston. He was
stillcrouching.
He planted his arse on the floor and his back to the hull
and regarded the chains with dismay. I slipped under his arms
and between his legs. He sighed and wrapped his arms about
me. His face found my neck and he nuzzled there, his breathing

slowing.I breathed easier as well. I tried to tellmyselfit would be

better now: we had lost, and need no longer worry about when the attack would come or how we would avoid it. Now we were trapped and need only worry about escaping. This thinking did not calmmyHorse. I was not surprised.

I told myself the men holding us were not my father’s, and even if they did eventually turn us over to my father, they would not behave as Collins or Thorp had. We were prisoners to be ransomed, not mento be reformed or broken. Ofcourse, I could not know that of a certainty just yet, but I felt it to be true. These menknew us, as angryas theymight be at the loss oftheir fellows:we had raided together and they were buccaneers. They would not condemn our being matelots—or sodomy, for that matter. Whatever happened if and when we were delivered to my father was another matter. For now, we would probably not be abused.

This did reassure myHorse. I quietlyshared mythoughts with Gaston, and was rewarded by the tension leaving his hands and shoulders.

“We willescape,”he breathed inmyear.
“Oui, mylove,”I assured him. I did not think it would be untilwe reached England, though. I saw no reasonto trouble him over that at the moment.
Then hope flared. We were still anchored off the River Chagre and not at sea: our friends might be able to rescue us. For that matter, they might be able to effect a rescue at sea as Gaston, Striker, and Pete had done. Perhaps they had seen us runthroughthe castle, or our unconscious bodies beinghauled to this ship. Then the ramifications of such a rescue quickly brought me to snuff that hope. These were buccaneers and not hired sailors. Someone would die in the attempt. If our friends were wise, they would not make it. If it failed, we would all be in chains. And the ironic truth was likely that they viewed our disappearance as a signwe had escaped.
I did not share anyofthose thoughts withGaston, either.
Somewhat later, the men playing cards finished their game and retired to hammocks strung about the hold. The quartermaster turned the lamp low, and—after one last meaningfulglare at us—ascended the hatchsteps.
Gaston immediately began to fight with his manacles. He pressed his thumb very flat and tested them against his alreadyabraded flesh. It was obvious he could not slip them, even if he were willing to lose skin to do it. He began to press in an alarming way on his thumb, and I realized he would attempt to