The Buccaneers' Code (13 page)

“That,” said the gargoyle, “is the silliest thing I've ever heard. If you give up and go home, I'll bite you myself.”

“And I won't stop him,” Miss Pimm said sternly. “A Miss Pimm's girl does not simply slink away when the situation looks grim, and I suspect a good pirate doesn't either. Is that correct?”

Hilary felt her cheeks flush. “Yes,” she said, “it is. I truly don't want to give up or slink away, but I've got a houseful of pirates waiting for me back in Wimbly-on-the-Marsh, and I've got no idea what to tell them. What if we can't defeat the Mutineers? What if they actually manage to take over the kingdom?”

“If we don't try to stop them,” said Claire, “then they certainly
will
take over, and your father and his friends will have all the treasure they've ever dreamed of. I know you'll be perfectly miserable if that happens, and from what I know of the Mutineers, the rest of the kingdom is likely to be miserable as well.”

“Except for High Society.” The gargoyle grimaced. “They'll all be as happy as boulders once the Mutineers are in charge.”

“Not everyone in High Society is as unscrupulous as the Tilburys,” Miss Pimm reminded him. “I can tell you for a fact that most of the girls here would prefer not to see Philomena become the next Enchantress. Truthfully, they seem quite relieved that she's no longer a student.”

Claire nodded. “Besides, I've told them all about your adventures, Hilary, and they've been very encouraging. I believe they like a good pirate yarn almost as much as the gargoyle does. They think you're sure to defeat the Mutineers.”

“That's awfully kind of them,” said Hilary. “I wish there
were a few more pirates who thought so. If only I could fill my crew with finishing-school girls, then I wouldn't have to forfeit to Captain Blacktooth.”

The gargoyle chewed on a spider. “Why don't you?”

Hilary froze with her hand halfway to the plate of cakes. “What?”

“Why don't you fill your crew with finishing-school girls?” the gargoyle asked. “We've spent the past two months looking for your supporters, and it sounds to me like we've finally found them.”

Miss Pimm remarked that this was a ridiculous notion, but Hilary hardly noticed or cared. She thought hard as she bit into a tea cake that tasted alarmingly of lavender. “Perhaps it's not so ridiculous,” she said. “All the girls here have magic pieces, don't they?”

“Most of them do,” said Claire. She was beginning to sound excited. “They can all use bows and arrows, they're very good swimmers, and they know how to ward off gentlemen with dubious morals—which is exactly what Blacktooth and his mates are.” She smiled at Hilary. “They might be exactly the pirates we need.”

“Nonsense!” Miss Pimm set down her teacup. “Finishing-school girls are not pirates!”

“Daughters of naval admirals aren't pirates either!” Hilary pointed out. “At least, they aren't traditionally. And neither are gargoyles or governesses—or Enchantresses,
for that matter—but I think we've all done well enough for ourselves on the High Seas.”

Every inch of Miss Pimm seemed to bristle. “Hilary Westfield,” she said, “are you implying that
I
am a pirate?”

“You took everyone's treasure and hid it away for centuries, didn't you?” Hilary asked. “When it was threatened, you set off in your ship to capture the villains. You're terribly fearsome, and you grew up on Gunpowder Island.” Hilary crossed her arms. “Miss Pimm, I believe you're the most piratical person I've ever met.”

Claire gasped. Miss Pimm, however, said nothing. She peeled the doily from her tea cake with meticulous care and ate the entire pastry in silence, crumb by crumb. When she had finished, she brushed off her fingers and looked straight at Hilary. “It's true that I have been entirely piratical for most of my life,” she said, “but I had rather hoped that no one would notice.”

Hilary grinned. “Then you'll let your students join our crew?”

“The choice must be up to each of them,” Miss Pimm replied. “I won't force any of my girls to go into battle. However, I won't forbid it, either. The fresh air and exercise will be good for them, and I am sure they have the fortitude to stand up to Captain Blacktooth.” She gave the smallest of smiles. “If they can survive a term in these halls, they can certainly survive a few days on a pirate ship.”

“I'll spread the word at once!” said Claire. “I'll arrange a meeting for tomorrow morning. You can rally the girls to your cause, Hilary, and if they agree to join your crew, we can begin holding piracy lessons right away.”

“And making hats,” the gargoyle added. “Every pirate needs a good hat.”

“I only hope they'll be willing to meet with me,” Hilary said. “Most of the scallywags I've met recently won't even look me in the eye.”

“I'm sure you'll have nothing to worry about.” Claire bent her little finger elegantly as she lifted her teacup to her lips. “You're a very impressive pirate, but it takes more than the Terror of the Southlands to frighten the delicate ladies of Augusta.”

A P
ETITION

to all

Y
OUNG
L
ADIES OF
Q
UALITY!

Protect your Kingdom from the Dangers of
Tyranny, Corruption, and Poor Manners!

Wield your Crochet Hooks against those
who dare to threaten the
Queen and the Rule of Law!

Draw back your Bowstrings
to show your Loyalty
to the Enchantress and the
Terror of the Southlands!

B
ECOME A
P
IRATE!

All interested parties shall be gratefully received.
Please gather in the main hallway tomorrow morning at ten o'clock.

From

The Illustrated Queensport Gazette

YOUR GATEWAY TO THE CIVILIZED WORLD!

QUEEN EMBARKS ON
ROYAL VISIT

QUEENSPORT, AUGUSTA—Queen Adelaide departed this morning on her yearly springtime trip to the southern kingdoms, where she will spend the next month discussing everything from treaties to table tennis with foreign rulers and other frightfully important individuals. Traditionally, this trip allows Augusta to improve its relationships with other kingdoms while also giving the queen and her advisers a pleasant vacation from the mud and slush of Queensport. In previous years, Queen Adelaide has been thoughtful enough to bring back crates of foreign treats to share with her loyal subjects, though no one has forgotten the scandal that erupted only four years ago when a greedy royal adviser devoured an entire crate of chocolates during the voyage home.

Queen Adelaide and her staff are reported to be traveling on her personal ship, HMS
Benevolence.
Several senior naval commanders, including Admiral George Curtis, are also accompanying the queen to ensure her safety. Some people fear that Queensport Harbor will be left open to a pirate attack while Admiral Curtis is away, but the admiral's adviser, James Westfield, says that there is no cause for concern. “The city
of Queensport is safer than ever,” Westfield told reporters earlier today. “In fact, I shall be keeping a close eye on the harbor myself until Admiral Curtis returns.”

Westfield also shrugged aside rumors that the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates has threatened to attack the royal city if the queen does not agree to its demands. “I doubt the rumors are true,” he said, “and if they are, I'm confident that the queen will make wise decisions to prevent an attack from happening. The only real danger comes from freelance pirates, who are well known to be both untrustworthy and unpredictable.”

Queen Adelaide will return to Augusta next month, when she will judge the upcoming battle between Captain Rupert Blacktooth and Pirate Hilary Westfield—an event sure to be the high point of the spring social calendar.

“D
O YOU REALLY
think this is a good idea?” Charlie asked for the third time that morning. He had asked it the first time when the carriage from Miss Pimm's pulled up at Jasper's bungalow, causing all the pirates in residence to draw their swords and advance upon the trembling driver until Hilary rushed outside to stop them. And he had asked it for a second time as the carriage carried them up the Pemberton road, making their teeth chatter as they bounced over the paving stones. Now that they were finally standing in front of Miss Pimm's, he sounded less certain than ever.

“It
is
a good idea,” said Hilary as she made her way
through the gate and up the front path. “You'll see for yourself in a moment. When we step into the hall, there are sure to be dozens of girls just waiting for their chance to become pirates.” She looked back at Charlie, who was still standing on the other side of the gate. “Aren't you coming?”

“Maybe I should wait outside,” said Charlie. “You don't really need me here, do you, Terror?”

“Of course I need you!” said Hilary. “You may be the only pirate on the High Seas who can teach a gaggle of schoolgirls to wield cutlasses without shredding their skirts to ribbons.”

Charlie looked around as though he was searching for an argument, but Hilary knew he wouldn't find one. He was the finest swordsman on the
Pigeon
, after all, and even some of the more barnacled old pirates in the kingdom had begun to write to him for dueling advice. “Can't the gargoyle teach them instead?” he asked.

“I can't,” said the gargoyle, poking his head out of Hilary's bag. “I'm going to teach the shouting lessons.”

Charlie wrinkled his brow. “Shouting lessons?”

“That's right,” said the gargoyle. “How to say ‘Arr!' and ‘Shiver me timbers!' That sort of thing.”

“He's very enthusiastic about it,” Hilary said. “I know you're not, Charlie, but I'd be grateful to have my first mate by my side. After all, finishing school can be awfully dangerous. What if the embroidery mistress captures me and makes me sew my initials onto all my handkerchiefs?”

At last, Charlie smiled. “All right,” he said. “I'm sure I can manage to fend off an embroidery mistress.”

Hilary knocked on the door, as she always did when she paid Miss Pimm a visit. This time, however, the door didn't open promptly. In fact, it didn't open at all, not even when Hilary knocked a second time. She tried to peer through the windows into the main hall, but all she could see was a good deal of dust that refused to come off the glass when she rubbed at it with her sleeve. “Perhaps we're early,” she said, though the clock in the market square had just struck ten.

“Or maybe the schoolgirls have forgotten our visit,” said Charlie—a bit too hopefully, Hilary thought.

Before she could knock again, however, the door creaked open halfway and Claire stuck her head out. “I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting!” she said. “Miss Pimm would be horrified if she knew. I've been trying to gather up your audience, but we've run into a sort of snag, and—oh!” She curtsied to Charlie. “Hello, Pirate Dove! Hilary didn't tell me you'd be coming, but I'm very glad you did.”

Charlie looked down at his knees, which seemed to be locked in place. “Thank you,” he said, mostly to his kneecaps. “Er, how's the Enchantressing going?”

“It's a bit dull at the moment,” Claire admitted. “Miss Pimm is making me read Good King Albert's treatise on magical oversight. I expect I'll perish of boredom before the week is out.”

Hilary, meanwhile, was trying her best to look over Claire's shoulder. “I'm sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but exactly what sort of snag have you run into?”

“Well,” said Claire, “to put it simply . . .” She pulled the door open wider, and Hilary stepped into the hall. It was full of stone and sunlight, but it was entirely empty of people.

The gargoyle blinked. “Where are all the schoolgirls?”

“They're not here,” said Hilary with a sigh, “and I suspect they're not coming.” Her boots echoed in the empty hallway, and the grand carvings and oil paintings were beginning to make her feel very small. She hadn't truly thought she'd be greeted by hundreds of would-be pirates, but to be greeted by no one at all was even worse than she'd feared.

“I was sure they'd come,” Claire was saying. “I made pamphlets! I papered every inch of the dormitory staircase with them last night. I even enchanted a few to float in the air, but I had to pull those down after they started chasing people through the halls. I think some of the younger girls were quite frightened.”

“I don't understand it,” said the gargoyle. “Why don't they want to be pirates? Don't they know they'd get to wear hats?”

“Blast it all, Terror, I'm sorry about this,” said Charlie. “If only they'd let you talk to them—”

“I don't think talking is likely to do me much good,”
said Hilary. “It certainly didn't convince the pirates at the Ornery Clam.”

“If we wait a few minutes,” said Claire hesitantly, “perhaps a few girls will come by.”

The thought of standing in the vast, empty hallway, listening to someone banging out a waltz on the harpsichord in the dancing classroom, made Hilary squirm. “I can't simply wait for my crewmates to appear,” she said. “Just think what would have happened if we'd waited for Captain Wolfson and his mates to find us and volunteer their help. They'd have been sunk by the navy!” She took a breath, trying to think less like a nervous scallywag and more like the leader of the pirate league. “If I'm going to persuade these girls to join us, I've got to show them exactly what a good pirate can do.”

The gargoyle looked concerned. “You're going to conjure up another pitcher of molasses?”

“I hope not,” said Charlie. “I can't bear to eat one more piece of gingerbread.”

The harpsichord music grew louder as Hilary reached for her cutlass. “Don't worry,” she said. “I believe I've got a plan that's not nearly as sticky.”

I
N THE DANCING
classroom, pairs of girls waltzed gracefully across the floor, wearing gray woolen dresses and somber expressions. While the music mistress plunked away on the harpsichord, the dancing mistress passed from girl to
girl, straightening shoulders, lifting chins, and calling out instructions. “Confidence, my dears!” she cried. “Remember: a true lady waltzes with confidence!”

The pirates watched all this from the shadows just outside the doorway. When the dancing mistress had turned her attention to a student's wrinkled stockings, Claire gave Hilary's hand a squeeze and stepped into the room. With all the confidence befitting a true lady, she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

The harpsichord stopped plunking, and the girls stumbled to a halt.

“Thank you for your attention,” said Claire. “You're all lovely dancers, but I've brought some guests along who will help you sharpen your talents. Please join me in welcoming the fearsome pirates Hilary Westfield and Charlie Dove!”

The girls gasped, and there was a mad rush toward the back of the classroom. Some girls hid under chairs; others pressed themselves against the walls. “Someone alert Miss Pimm!” cried the dancing mistress from behind an ottoman. “Inform her at once that pirates have invaded my classroom!”

In the midst of the commotion, Hilary and Charlie marched into the room with their weapons drawn and their heads as high as they could hold them. The music mistress, who seemed intent on providing the proper melody for any occasion, played a few suspenseful notes on the harpsichord.

“On your guard, Pirate Dove,” said Hilary. She pointed her cutlass at Charlie. “I've been practicing my swordplay all winter, so please don't insult me by allowing me to win.”

Charlie bowed to her and nearly sliced the buttons from her coat. “Of course not, Terror,” he said. “I've got more honor than that.”

Hilary had battled up and down the decks of the
Pigeon
with Charlie hundreds of time before, but this was the first time she had faced him in a real duel—even if it
was
a duel at a finishing school. He was quick enough to dodge her cutlass and clever enough to guess her next moves, and once he was caught up in battle, not even a room full of schoolgirls could unnerve him. In fact, his only fault as a swordsman was that he had never taken up ballroom dancing. As they made their way across the classroom, Hilary kept time with the lively tune coming from the harpsichord. She twirled away from Charlie's sword, extended her arm as gracefully as she could to parry his attacks, and even managed to curtsy as she carved up his bootlaces.

“Arr!” cried the gargoyle, swinging back and forth in Hilary's bag. “Grab his nose! Pull on his toes! Use his ears to swab the deck!”

Some of the schoolgirls had begun to crawl out from under their chairs, and a few of them applauded whenever Charlie landed a crucial blow or Hilary made an impressive riposte. Better yet, as they dueled their way toward the
front of the room, Hilary saw that more girls were gathering in the doorway. The handwriting students were still clutching their ink bottles, the fainting students waved their smelling salts under their noses, and the music students had flutes and piccolos tucked under their arms. Rosie Hatter, who must have come from water-ballet practice, was wearing her embroidered bathing cap and dripping all over the floor.

“I think your plan is working,” Charlie said as he swatted Hilary's cutlass away for the hundredth time. “You've definitely got their attention.”

It was growing warm in the dancing classroom, though, and Hilary had to dig a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the sweat from her brow. As she did, Charlie swung his sword dangerously close to her shoulder. “Is that a white flag of surrender, Terror?” he asked. “Are you giving up so easily?”

“Never!” Hilary tossed the handkerchief aside. As much as she hated to admit it, this wasn't a battle she was likely to win, but if she could manage to keep dueling for long enough to impress the schoolgirls—

“Stop this bedlam at once!” someone shouted from the doorway. The crowd of schoolgirls parted as a tall, muscular young woman strode into the classroom. She wore a quiver of arrows strapped to her back, a vicious-looking collection of hairpins, and an expression as hard-hearted as any pirate's.

“Oh dear,” Hilary whispered. “It's the archery mistress.”

The archery mistress crossed the floor at an astonishing pace. Before Hilary and Charlie could dodge her, she had seized them both by the collars and held them at arm's length. “Pirates in the ballroom!” she boomed. “Disrupting our lessons and frightening our students!”

“We're not terribly frightened, actually,” said a small girl in a woolen bathing costume.

But the archery mistress barreled on. “I've never seen anything so improper!” she said. “What do you two have to say for yourselves?”

Hilary tried to pull herself free from the archery mistress's grip, but it was no use; she would simply have to do her best to look dignified. “We've come to teach your students to be pirates,” she said. “We thought we'd begin with a swordplay demonstration.”

At this, some of the schoolgirls began to murmur. “Whyever would they want to be
pirates
?” said the dancing mistress, who had crawled out from behind her ottoman. “They are young ladies of quality!”

“And young ladies of quality should be able to protect themselves from danger,” said Hilary. She twisted her head to look up at the archery mistress. “Don't you agree?”

“Certainly.” The archery mistress didn't relax her grip. “I assure you, however, that the halls of Miss Pimm's are not usually swarming with scoundrels.” She glared at Hilary. “Today seems to be an exception.”

“
We're
not scoundrels!” the gargoyle cried.

“My friend is right about that,” said Hilary. “We'd never plot against you, but not everyone in the kingdom can say the same. Has anyone here heard of the Mutineers?”

The schoolgirls exchanged looks. A few of them raised their hands. “They're the ones who kidnapped Miss Pimm, aren't they?” asked Rosie Hatter. “The ones who stole all those magic bowls and vases and things?”

“That's right,” said Hilary. “They're trying to control all the kingdom's magic, and they don't mind breaking every rule in the etiquette book in order to do it. They've even threatened to attack Augusta.”

The room fell silent. Even the music mistress couldn't seem to think of a suitable tune to accompany the news. “How dreadful,” the dancing mistress murmured.

“Dreadful it may be,” said the archery mistress, “but that's no excuse for—”