Read The Buccaneers' Code Online
Authors: Caroline Carlson
“Oh, blast,” said Mrs. Tilbury.
THE QUEEN'S INSPECTORS
K
INGDOM OF
A
UGUSTA
DILIGENCE, LOGIC, DISCRETION
Report to H.R.H. Queen Adelaide regarding
THE ADVENTURE OF THE MUTINEERS
Report No. 1
FIELD INSPECTOR:
John Hastings
LOCATION:
Queensport, Augusta
CASE STATUS:
Closed
Inspector's Comments:
Your Highness, I was summoned to Queensport Harbor last week when our agency received word of a vicious attack on your royal person. Though eyewitnesses originally reported that the attack was launched by the pirate Hilary Westfield, I soon discovered that the real attackers were a group of villains known as the Mutineers. (Miss Eugenia Pimm, who is watching over my shoulder as I write this report, says that she has been trying to warn me about these Mutineers for nearly a year now. I admit that I may have ignored her warnings, but my natural talent for
the deductive arts has allowed me to close this case nonetheless.) Thanks to the efforts of Pirate Westfield and her crew, the Mutineers have now been captured, and Your Highness's safety has been secured.
I believe the Mutineers were intending to take control of the Royal Navy, the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates, the office of the Enchantress, and, indeed, the throne itself. One leader of the nefarious group, former admiral James Westfield, was seized by a brave crew of naval officers; he is currently locked in the Royal Dungeons, where he stands accused of plotting to overthrow the kingdom, unlawfully sinking a pirate ship, mocking an officer of the queen, and pretending to reform himself. A second Mutineer, Oliver Sanderson, was chased across the High Seas and eventually caught by a band of northern pirates. Pirate captain Anders Wolfson is currently transporting Mr. Sanderson to the Dungeons.
The remaining Mutineers were more easily apprehended. When their ship, the
Renegade
, was pelted with cannonballs, it splintered into pieces before sinking in the waters off the coast of Queensport. My men found Captain Rupert
Blacktooth, Mrs. Georgiana Tilbury, and Miss Philomena Tilbury clinging to floating scraps of wood and plucked them from the sea. Mrs. Tilbury, who had escaped from a royal guard, is now awaiting trial in a triple-barred cell in the Dungeons, which she shares with her daughter, Philomena. Captain Blacktooth, however, was sent to the southern kingdoms immediately after the battle. He will live in exile at the Pestilent Home for Foul-Tempered Pirates and must never return to Augusta.
As for the rest of Blacktooth's crewmates, my investigations have convinced me that they had no knowledge of the Mutineers' treacherous plans. I believe they are loyal Augustan citizens who should be given a chance to redeem themselves under the leadership of a less villainous captain.
I hope you are feeling well, Your Highness, and I trust the singed edges of your royal hairstyle will make a full recovery.
Signed
John Hastings
Captain, Queen's Inspectors
A ROYAL DECREE!
L
ET IT BE KNOWN THAT TODAY
IN THE CITY OF
Q
UEENSPORT,
IN RECOGNITION OF HER MAGICAL TALENTS
AND HER SERVICES TO THE KINGDOM,
Miss Claire Dupree
HAS RECEIVED THE TITLE OF
Enchantress of the Marsh.
A LUNCHEON WILL BE HELD AT THE ROYAL PALACE
IN MISS DUPREE'S HONOR.
TEA AND FISH STICKS WILL BE SERVED.
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS
Queen Adelaide of Augusta
W
ITH GREAT REGRET,
Miss Philomena Tilbury
AND
Sir Nicholas Feathering
ANNOUNCE THE
CANCELLATION OF THEIR WEDDING.
WEDDING FUNDS WILL BE USED TO
PURCHASE FURNISHINGS FOR MISS TILBURY'S
CELL IN THE ROYAL DUNGEONS.
GIFTS WILL NOT BE RETURNED.
THE PESTILENT HOME FOR FOUL-TEMPERED PIRATES
Where Scallywags Itch to Stay!
Dear Rupert Blacktooth,
Welcome to the Pestilent Home! We look forward to serving very few of your needs and attending to none of your whims during your years in exile. As a resident of the Pestilent Home, you will make new enemies, take up dull
and unpleasant hobbies, and develop mysterious, incurable illnesses. There is so much to look forward to!
Please be advised that the Pestilent Home is a parrot-free lodging. Sheets, blankets, and pillows are not provided by our housekeeping staff. We do, however, furnish each room with one lumpy mattress and plenty of bedbugs. Gruel is served promptly at five o'clock every morning. On Thursday evenings, the entire Pestilent Home community gathers to share hardtack, conversation, and regrets. A small library of Improving Works is available for you to browse at your leisure.
We are confident that in no time at all you will feel uncomfortably at home here, and we are thrilled to count you among our residents.
Most sincerely,
Miss Vitriola Barnes
Manager
From
The Picaroon
BEIN' THE OFFICIAL NEWSLETTER OF THE VERY NEARLY HONORABLE LEAGUE OF PIRATES
VNHLP WELCOMES NEW LEADER. Polish your boots and groom your parrots! All scourges and scallywags from every corner of Augusta are cordially invited to attend the investiture of our new League president, Pirate Hilary Westfield. The ceremony will take place this Saturday afternoon in Gunpowder Square, with Scourge of the Northlands Charlie Dove and Enchantress of the Marsh Claire Dupree rumored to be planning appearances. A rollicking pirates' ball will follow the ceremony, featuring Cannonball Jack's famous chocolate mousse, fireworks over the bay, and special performances by the Otterpool Royal Orchestra and the VNHLP Chantey Chorale.
TREASURE FOUND IN QUEENSPORT HARBOR. A large collection of books washed up last night on the Queensport shore. The books themselves are damp, sandy, and inhabited by sea creatures, but the stories within are still thoroughly enjoyable. If you are the owner of these fine volumes, please contact the Picaroon to collect your treasure.
WILDLIFE SANCTUARY PLANNED. The lawn behind VNHLP headquarters will soon be transformed into a permanent home for ten fortunate chickens. Until recently, these chickens served as cannons on the pirate ship
Blunderbuss
, but a plan to return them to their original state was thwarted when the birds rose up in protest. They will now spend their days grazing on the green pastures of Gunpowder Island and laying free-range cannonballs, which pirates may purchase from the League by the dozen. Former presidential secretary Horatio Gull has been chosen to serve as head of the VNHLP Cannon Chicken Initiative.
T
HE
G
UNPOWDER
I
SLAND
roses had just come into bloom, and the rented rooms above the Sword and Seahorse groggery bustled with pirates. Jasper hurried through the hall in search of his cuff links, Charlie grudgingly ironed his best shirt, and Miss Greyson tricked the gargoyle into a washtub, where, against his wishes, she proceeded to give him a bath. “Hilary!” he cried from the washtub. “Rescue me! I feel very undignified.”
“I'm afraid there's nothing I can do,” said Hilary. “Miss Greyson made me bathe too, you know.”
“So I did.” Miss Greyson took up a soapy cloth and scrubbed lichen from the gargoyle's wings. “Not even the
president of the pirate league has a chance of defending herself against a determined governess.”
“I'm only
nearly
the president,” Hilary reminded her. “And I can't imagine what my fellow scourges and scallywags will think when I arrive at the ceremony with soap behind my ears. Most pirates are fairly crusted over with dirt.”
“This,” said Miss Greyson, “is a special occasion. I'm sure everyone will be looking their best.” She lifted the gargoyle out of the washtub and wrapped him in a fluffy towel. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to dress for the ceremony. We don't have much time before the carriage arrives.”
Hilary had been dressed for ages already, but she cleaned her boots, braided her hair three times in a row, and chased Fitzwilliam down the hall to retrieve the gold hoop earring clasped in his beak. Waiting to leave the Sword and Seahorse, she decided, was almost as torturous as a long grammar lesson on a beautifully blue day. She poked her head into Claire's room. “Are you ready to leave?” she asked.
“Mostly,” said Claire. She'd put on the golden gown Miss Pimm had bought her for formal Enchantressing events, but she wore only one pearl earring and only one shoe; her hair was already falling out of its elegant twist. She sat on the floor with an enormous and ancient book spread open in front of her. “I believe you're more anxious about this ceremony than you ever were about going into battle.”
Hilary nodded. “Half the pirates in the League were fighting against me less than a month ago,” she said, “and some of them still won't look me in the eye. I don't think they'll be entirely pleased to follow my orders.”
“I know just how you feel,” said Claire, pulling on her other shoe. “A few days ago, one of those horrid ladies from the Coalition of Overprotective Mothers walked up to me in the street and said she didn't think I was well-bred enough to be the Enchantress. I demonstrated my excellent breeding by not kicking her in the shins.” Claire tried to pin her hair up, but it immediately fell down again. “We'll simply have to win people over with our charms.”
“Or your cutlasses,” said the gargoyle, coming in from the hallway. He held his pirate hat in his mouth, and Hilary helped him place it over his ears. “What are you reading?” he asked Claire. “Is it a thrilling pirate romance?” He hopped closer hopefully.
“It's Augustan history, actually,” Claire told him. “I believe Charlie was onto something when he ordered us all to grab hold of you. Ages ago, before the kingdom started running out of magic, people used to work together to use magic pieces for the strongest enchantments. They didn't try it very often, though, and it didn't always work.” She leaned over the book once more. “I'll have to do some experiments when I get back to Pemberton. There's still a huge amount we don't know about magic, and I'd like to do more than simply scold people while I'm Enchantress.”
When the carriage arrived at last, all the pirates climbed inside and set off down the lane to Gunpowder Square. It was fortunate the trip was a short one, for the carriage wasn't quite large enough for half a dozen pirates in their finery: Miss Greyson's elbow settled itself in Hilary's ear, Fitzwilliam was forced to perch on the roof, and Charlie was squashed between the window on one side and Claire on the other, though truthfully, Hilary didn't think he looked all that miserable about it.
As they squeaked down the lane, Jasper told them all about the sketches and plans he'd received the previous day from the pirate shipbuilder on the other side of the island. “I can't imagine the new ship will measure up to the
Pigeon
,” he said, “but it will have extra storerooms for treasure, plenty of bunks for visitors, and a whole series of cabins for Eloise's floating bookshop. It's fairly massive, actually. I have no idea how we'll manage to sail the blasted thing.”
“I'll help you whenever I come to visit,” Hilary promised, “and so will Charlie, I'm sure.”
Charlie nodded. “When the Terror and the Scourge aren't performing daring deeds or marching around VNHLP headquarters, they're surprisingly good at selling books.”
“I'll help too,” the gargoyle said, “as long as there's a Gargoyle's Nest.”
“Never fear,” said Jasper. “If the day ever comes when
I captain a ship without a Gargoyle's Nest, I'll toss myself overboard in shame.”
When the carriage rolled to a halt, the others went to take their places in the crowd, and Hilary made her way to the edge of Gunpowder Square. Cannonball Jack was waiting for her there in his best coat and hat; he bowed to Hilary when he caught sight of her. “Thanks for askin' me to do the honors, Terror,” he said, “an' for lettin' me rejoin the League.”
The VNHLP had been flooded with applications from the pirates who'd fought alongside Hilary in Queensport Harbor, and she had instructed the League officers to approve each and every form without delay. One-Legged Jones had seemed slightly scandalized by the prospect of sending membership cards to several dozen finishing-school girls, but to Hilary's relief, he'd done as she'd asked. “You're very welcome,” she told Cannonball Jack. “It was the least I could do, especially considering what happened to your cannons.”
“I just paid 'em a visit up at headquarters.” Cannonball Jack brushed a fluffy white chicken feather from his lapel. “But that be neither here nor there. What have ye got in yer hands, Terror? Be it yer rules of conduct?”
Hilary nodded and passed him the rolled-up paper. “It's called the Buccaneers' Code,” she said. “I should tell you, though, I had a bit of help writing it.”
Cannonball Jack unrolled the paper, and Hilary read it over his shoulder.
The Buccaneers' Code
â¢Â  Pirates are practical (most of the time).
â¢Â  Pirates are brave, even if they're also terrified.
â¢Â  Pirates should not climb trees.
â¢Â  Pirates can learn a lot from finishing school.
â¢Â  Pirates don't let their spirits sink when their ship does.
â¢Â  Pirates look excellent in hats.
â¢Â  Pirates are loyal to their friends.
Cannonball Jack gave Hilary an approving nod. “'Tis a good Code,” he said. “'Specially the bit about hats.”
By the time the ceremony began, Gunpowder Square was packed with pirates standing shoulder to shoulder. A few duels were breaking out at the edges of the crowd, but that was common enough at any League gathering when the members were in good spirits. Cannonball Jack led Hilary to the front of the square, where someone had placed an empty grog barrel for her to stand on. As she greeted the crowd, she spotted several of the pirates she'd
defeated in battle and a large group from the Ornery Clam, though the scallywag who'd threatened to slice off her fingers hadn't bothered to attend. Miss Pimm had given her students a holiday, and several schoolgirls were sprinkled throughout the audience, clapping politely as Hilary read her Buccaneers' Code aloud. Even the Royal Augusta Water Ballet troupe had gathered at the back of the square, all looking uncomfortably dry.
The ceremony didn't take long, for pirates are hardly ever patient. Still, it seemed to Hilary as though no time at all had passed before Cannonball Jack was handing her a jewel-handled cutlass far too fancy to be useful, draping a Jolly Roger over her shoulders, and pinning the presidential skull-and-crossbones badge to her coat. Then a round of blasts echoed from the cannons along the beach, and the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates gave three huzzahs for their new president, leaving Hilary so lightheaded that she had to step down off her grog barrel.
The crowd of pirates seemed to swirl around her as they marched her out of the square and up the hill to VNHLP headquarters. They kept swirling as Cannonball Jack served his chocolate mousse, Mr. Marrow gave a toast, and the Otterpool Royal Orchestra launched into a rousing series of jigs. Finally, halfway through the Chantey Chorale's performance of traditional Northlands sailing tunes, Hilary shrugged the Jolly Roger from her shoulders and set down the jewel-handled cutlass. She got up from
her seat as quietly as she could, picked up the gargoyle, and slipped out of the ballroom.
From the rocking chair on the headquarters' front porch, Hilary could see halfway across the island. She could see the sun setting over the bay, the statues standing in Gunpowder Square, and the strange walled garden where Miss Pimm's family estate had stood before the days of pirates. A new cottage stood there now, for Miss Pimm was leaving her finishing school in the nimble hands of the embroidery mistress and moving back to the island to enjoy a thoroughly proper retirement. The gargoyle had already promised to bring her a plate of spiders as a housewarming gift.
“Is everything all right?” the gargoyle said. He frowned up at Hilary. “Didn't you like your fancy cutlass?”
“It's lovely,” said Hilary. “So were the songs, and the dances, and the chocolate mousse, but I still feel like something's not quite right.” She looked out at the waves. “What's the opposite of seasick?”
“Landlocked,” the gargoyle said knowingly. “I felt that way the whole time I was stuck on my wall.”
The porch door swung open, and Claire burst through it. “Here she is!” she called. Jasper, Charlie, and Miss Greyson all tumbled out the door after her. “We've been looking for you everywhere,” Claire said, sitting down on the arm of Hilary's chair. “Jasper thought you might be practicing treading water in the swimming pool, and he dragged us
all the way there even though I said you certainly
wouldn't
be practicing since you're already so good at it!” She took a breath. “Anyway, we've found you at last.”
“And we've got a gift for you,” said Jasper.
“A good one,” said Charlie.
“A gift?” the gargoyle asked. “I don't know anything about a gift!”
“That,” said Miss Greyson, “is because gargoyles can't be trusted to keep secrets.”
The gargoyle sighed. “It's true,” he said. “We can't.”
“The gift can't come to you, Terror,” said Jasper, “so we've got to bring you to it.” He tipped Hilary's rocking chair forward until she slid out of it. “Come along, everyone. If we don't move quickly, I'll die of suspense.”
“I can't believe you tipped the president of the pirate league out of her chair, Mr. Fletcher,” Hilary said as she followed the others down the lane. “I'm sure
Leading the League
has quite a few things to say about that.”
The pirates filed down the hill, across the square, and through a tangle of narrow cobblestone streets. At last they arrived at the wall that encircled the island. A small iron gate was hidden away behind a rosebush, and Jasper pushed it open.
Beyond the gate was the shore, beyond the shore was the sea, and anchored in the sea was a ship with battle-scarred sails, long rows of bookshelves, and a basket tied to the bowsprit just big enough to fit a gargoyle. For a
moment, Hilary was sure she'd imagined it. “But the
Pigeon
sank!” she said. “I saw it happen!”
“It was thoughtful of the Mutineers to build us a replica,” said Jasper, “and even more thoughtful of Captain Wolfson and his men to patch her up once they'd chased Oliver Sanderson halfway around the kingdom. I'm afraid you'll still need to give her a good scrubbing to get the villainy off her, though.”
“She's a good size for setting out in search of buried treasure,” said Charlie.
“And for visiting friends,” said Claire.
“She's perfect,” Hilary said. She set down the gargoyle and ran across the sand to the dinghy that sat ready to take her out to the
Pigeon.
Waves lapped at her ankles as she dragged the dinghy into the water, climbed inside, and took up the oars. Gunpowder Bay was still cold enough to numb Hilary's toes, but even when she finally noticed the chill, she didn't mind it a bit.
Then she looked back at the others, who were still waiting by the gate. “Are you coming?” she called.
Her mates glanced at one another. “You want us to come with you?” Miss Greyson asked.