Castle of Fire

by Peter Greene

  “Oh my! Do they do that often, Lieutenant?” he asked, shaking with worry and dread.

  “No, no,” laughed Harrison, who was standing beside the teacher. “We only fire the guns to say hello and goodbye, or if we see a pirate or two!”

  Delain, on the other hand, was so surprised and delighted by the noise and rumble, that she immediately grabbed Jonathan’s arm and simply requested for him to have the guns fired again.

  As Delain waved to her father and mother, Captain Walker approached and addressed them.

  “Lieutenant Harrison, will you choose a crew to assist in preparing the launch and carrying the needed supplies for a single day? We will be just west of Conception Island within the hour, and I would like you to supervise the good teacher and Miss Dowdeswell.”

  “With pleasure, Captain,” he said.

  “Remember, Lieutenant, there may be some pirate activity and a watchful eye would be most welcome,” the Captain added.

  As ordered, Harrison had the launch prepared. It was actually one of the larger boats attached to the Danielle, almost twenty-nine feet long and almost ten wide, with a mast that could be stood up or laid down and a sail for use if needed. There was a small cabin-like area in the bow to keep supplies dry and protect certain passengers from the weather should it turn foul. Oars were secured alongside in case rowing was in order.

  Harrison then chose his crew. Though Spears volunteered for the duty and turtle-watching, Harrison refused him and instead chose Jonathan and Sean, along with Hudson and Hicks, the two marines that assisted them at Skull Eye Island.

  Delain appeared on deck wearing a simple dress and a light jacket, and she carried a leather bag filled with drawing materials and the like. She watched the loading of the supplies by Jonathan and Sean and suggested a few improvements as to the placement of the articles in the boat.

  Hudson and Hicks approached the launch, greeted Mr. Harrison, and thanked him for selecting them for an enjoyable duty.

  “We’d be delighted to come, Lieutenant!” responded Hudson.

  “But of course,” added Hicks. “I’d love to see the turtles! I’ve ‘eard the smaller ones are simply tender and juicy in a soup or just as a steak!”

  Delain heard this plan for turtle soup and shrieked with horror. Even Jonathan and Sean stopped their loading and hauling to see if indeed, there would be some turtle for dinner, not sure if they would approve.

  “Now, now, Miss Delain,” assured Harrison. “No one will be harvesting any turtles! Isn’t that right, men?”

  Hudson and Hicks looked down dejectedly.

  “Yes, sir,” they murmured, looking at their feet in embarrassment.

  As promised, within the hour, the launch was steadied over the side as Delain and her crew, along with the somewhat queasy and green-skinned Mr. Tupper, were lowered into the calm water. As the men erected the mast and let out the sail, the launch leaped away, like a small racing skiff, heading towards the sandy beach.

  “Lieutenant Harrison!” called the Captain as the two ships departed on their separate missions. “Remember to post a watch, always. We will see you tomorrow by mid-morning, I suppose.”

  “Aye, Captain!” Harrison called, then motioned for Jonathan to set a course for the nearest beach. At the tiller, the long pole attached to the rudder that was used to steer the boat, Jonathan set a zigzagging course, heading just slightly into the oncoming wind, but a point or two to port. After a while, he came about, heading a point or two to starboard. He continued this back and forth action, tacking, it was called, until they were within a few yards of the sand.

  “Take in sail!” called Harrison. Sean, Hudson and Hicks hauled down the sail and the launch slowed just a bit, then firmly skidded up a few feet onto the sand before stopping. The men jumped out and pulled on ropes to move the launch even further upon the beach, then tied the ropes to two sturdy palm trees on either side of the bow.

  “That should hold her,” Harrison said happily, then escorted Mr. Tupper off the boat and onto solid ground. “Better, Mr. Tupper?”

  The teacher simply nodded and dropped to his knees, exhausted and still looking a bit green.

  Jonathan and the others stood on the white sand beach and observed the beauty of Conception Island. They saw white coral cliffs in a nearby bay surrounded by low rock outcroppings and scrub brush of various green hues. There was a large rise in the center of the island that certainly would command a great view of the surrounding waters. Palm trees dotted small beaches and all was outlined by calm and clear turquoise waters.

  Immediately, Harrison instructed them to erect a tent with two compartments, one for Delain and the other for the rest of the party. Once completed, all continued on with their plans. Delain and Jonathan immediately began searching for turtles and their eggs. Sean and the marines climbed the small rise in the center of the island to watch the sea in all directions. It was possible that a pirate looking for a fight might choose to attack smaller ships when the odds seemed to be in their favor. After a few concerned looks about, Sean and the marines mostly spent their time sunning themselves, as Sean practiced reading from King Arthur. Hudson and Hicks greatly enjoyed the stories and corrected Sean if he had trouble with a word or two.

  “You are doing wonderfully, Sean!” Hudson said.

  “A regular orator if I must say so!” added Hicks. This delighted Sean, though he wasn’t sure exactly what an "orator" was, but judging by the smiles on both of the marines’ faces, he was comfortable with the label.

  Harrison explored the beaches and nearby coves, looking for any stores used by pirates as hiding places. But there was nothing on the island except for the occasional lizard and now and again a small pig or two. He did return to the launch every hour on the hour to attend to Mr. Tupper and make sure all was well. The teacher sat in the shade, unable to move, and groaned softly.

  Delain, somewhat angry at the lack of turtles, continued her search but was losing patience. She and Jonathan had been looking at every beach they could find and after seeing nothing all morning, they were beginning to think maybe Conception Island was bereft of all things amphibian. At one point, Jonathan looked up into the sky, as something caught his eye: a flock of seagulls, chattering as they flew above the next beach.

  “What is piquing their interest?” asked Jonathan. “Those noisy gulls are certainly interested in something!”

  “Babies!” cried Delain, now suddenly full of energy and excitement. She ran off through the brush, dropping her bag and disappearing into the flora.

  Jonathan paused and thought: Babies? Human babies?

  He ran after her, fighting his way through the thick bush and sharp palm tree trunks. After a moment, he stumbled onto a small white-sand beach. There, before his feet, were hundreds of light-green baby turtles, none more than half a foot long, rushing from under the sand near the edge of the beach to the safety of the water. A flock of gulls numbering at least twelve dozen hovered a few feet above the earth. With relentless fury they swooped down upon the turtles. Several of the screaming birds actually caught a newborn in their beaks and by some miraculous ability, were able to fly away with their prize. Others kept trying and trying, lunging and crying out in an endless racket. Jonathan noticed a few of the turtles moved very quickly, probably the strongest and fastest of them, to make it safely to the water.

  As amazing as the turtles were, Jonathan was mesmerized more by Delain. She was howling and slashing her fists at the birds, jumping into the air, trying to scare them off. Her face was contorted into something almost horrible and menacing. Certainly, this was a side of Miss Dowdeswell that was not usually seen by many.

  “Ahhh! Get away! Shooo!” she cried over and over again, though it was of little consequence as the gulls easily avoided her and continued pecking at the turtles.

  Jonathan thought for a brief moment, hoping to find a way to assist his friend. Then he saw a long tree branch lying on the sand a few feet from his position. He quickly grabbed it, broke
it in half, creating two sections of approximately four feet each. Grabbing one for each hand, he rushed to the beach, avoiding turtles as he ran.

  “Delain! Delain!” he shouted. After a few more screams and swipes at the birds, she looked to him. “I will swat at the gulls! You carry as many babies as you can to the sea! Hurry!”

  Jonathan now began screaming and swatting at the attackers as he ran in circles around Delain. This angered the birds, and only after a few were struck fatally by Jonathan’s mad thrusts and swings, did they begin to yield. Delain was now able to snatch up six or seven of the baby turtles. Cradling them in her arms, she carried them to the surf and unceremoniously dumped them in the water, only to return for another load.

  Some of the gulls, seeing that a madman was swinging at them, changed course and followed Delain. They began attacking her, pecking at her head and back as she stooped to pick up the frightened babies. Jonathan rushed to her side, but she waved him off.

  “No, Jonathan! I am fine, keep swatting! Keep swatting!” she called.

  Delain and Turtle

  The battle seemed to last for hours, as Jonathan chased gulls away and Delain gathered the frightened little ones, flapping their fins in the air. A few turtles even snapped at Delain, biting her fingers, though she paid them no mind. Jonathan had actually killed a good number of the birds and injured many more; however, more replaced them. Some moved to another area of the beach, wherever Jonathan was not.

  “How will we ever save them all?” cried Delain, tears streaming down her face. Jonathan felt pity for her, because he knew she must love them dearly. His heart was starting to feel heavy, knowing that many of the turtles would be killed and eaten, regardless of their actions.

  “We must save as many as we can!” he yelled, “Think of the ones you are saving, not the ones you are losing! Think of them swimming in the sea, happy and growing old!”

  Within another few minutes, it was over. All the turtles that could be saved had been, and those that were lost to the gulls were lost. The two heroes sat down heavily in the sand and Delain sobbed quietly. Jonathan held her hand and patted it gently.

  “Delain, I am so sorry,” he said. “But I am sure the dozens that you saved are grateful you came along. It was a kind thing you did.”

  Delain stopped sobbing after a moment and managed a smile.

  “We did teach those birds a thing or two, didn’t we?”

  “Yes we did!” Jonathan answered. “They will think twice the next time they come to this beach. They will remember the day Miss Delain Dowdeswell, adventurer, came to call!”

  * * * * *

  They sat on the beach for an hour or more, until the sun began to set, saying nothing, just looking at the surf and breathing in the fine salt air. It would soon be time to return to the launch and then to sleep in their make-shift tent.

  Delain leaned against Jonathan’s shoulder and slowly drifted off to a deep sleep, exhausted by her task. Jonathan sat still by her side, looking at the sea, enjoying the sound of the water as it crashed upon the sand and the warmth of the sun on his face. Mostly, he realized he enjoyed the fact that Delain was there next to him. Her fine hair fluttered in the wind, sunlit golden shimmers dancing on each strand, hypnotizing him. He smiled, though he soon broke the spell by turning his gaze to the bay, observing the different colors of the water: the emerald green close to shore, rich dark blue in the deep, and every combination in between. On the far shoals made of coral, hundreds of yards offshore, the water broke into foamy white streaks that stood out like small sails on the horizon.

  As Jonathan watched the white water crash and return to the blue, he noticed how some looked even more like sails than others and that a few of those seemed to have a longer life, taking more time to crash and disappear. He watched far in the offing as two of the white waves seemed to be taking a very long time to crash. He blinked his eyes, thinking the sun was playing tricks on him. Then his heart skipped a beat.

  “Delain?” he said softly, rubbing his eyes.

  “What is it, Jonathan?”

  He quickly stood up to get a better look. Yes, it was now clear. The white waves did not disappear, as they were not waves at all. Jonathan ran to his coat he had left on the edge of the beach and pulled out his telescope from the sleeve. After a hasty focus on the spot he had seen in the waves, he cried aloud.

  “Dear me!”

  Delain ran to him.

  “Jonathan! What is it?” she asked frantically.

  There was no mistaking it. As he stared into the glass, it became clear that the waves were actually sails, discolored and dirty, even with a few holes in them. A ship and her men were now visible, a motley crew to be sure.

  “Pirates!” he said. “Heading our way!”

  Sean stood on a low rise of the small island with Hudson and Hicks, smiling and laughing as they picked the wild strawberries that were growing in a patch at their feet. Having nowhere to put them or carry them for their later enjoyment, they simply ate them immediately.

  “It would certainly be nice to have a bowl of cream with these berries, don’t you think?” asked Hudson.

  “Aye, it would,” said Hicks. “But, alas, we ‘ave none.”

  Sean thought for a moment as he stuffed his twentieth berry into his mouth and chewed slowly, enjoying each bite.

  “Cream, yes that would be good,” he said, “though we don’t have any and, well, it would just get in the way of all this strawberry!”

  Hudson and Hicks stopped their chewing for a moment, looked at each other, then nodded.

  “Yes, I see your point,” said Hudson.

  “When ya put it that way, well, ‘oo needs cream?” said Hicks.

  After a few more berries were devoured, they heard a call and looked up to see Jonathan and Delain running towards them on the beach below.

  “Up here, Jonny Boy!” Sean called, “And have we got a surprise for you!”

  “I bet I have a better one!” Jonathan said as they climbed the short rise then sat down, puffing and straining to catch their breath.

  “’Have ya got any cream, by chance?” asked Hicks.

  “Cream? Whatever for?” asked Delain.

  Sean pointed down to the ground.

  “For the strawberries!” Sean answered.

  Jonathan and Delain looked down and saw what remained of the patch after the three had grazed for probably half an hour, nonstop. Only a couple of small berries were visible.

  “There were more a moment ago,” said Sean sheepishly.

  Just then, Mr. Harrison appeared. He was holding two dirty glass bottles, with dark liquid in them.

  “I found this rum in a nearby cave! There is much more besides, probably left here by rum runners or the last few pirates. I would think they will return for it. This is all I dared take as it is time to eat and ready our evening, lady and gentlemen. To the launch!”

  “There is a small complication, Mr. Harrison,” Delain announced.

  “I believe we may have seen the owners of the bottles. Pirates,” Jonathan added.

  “That is your surprise?” asked Sean. “Well, not as tasty as strawberries, but a bit more interesting!”

  Jonathan took a moment to explain what he and Delain had seen and that it was unmistakable. The dirty sails, sloppy crew and haphazard way the ship was attended to meant that it could only be a pirate ship.

  “How many masts, Jonathan?” asked Harrison.

  “Three with a small spanker in the stern,” Jonathan said. “It looked like a twenty-four gun brig if I were to wager a guess. A fully-rigged sloop.”

  “Men?” asked Harrison.

  “I counted less than three on deck and ten in the masts.” Jonathan answered.

  “Let’s have a look, and for the King’s sake, keep out of sight. Stay off the beaches,” Harrison said as they all moved to the edge of the rise and took turns sharing Jonathan’s glass.

  After everyone had taken a gander at the ship, it was clear that sailing o
ff in the launch was not going to be possible without being noticed. A single shot from one of the pirate guns, all at least nine-pounders, would destroy the boat and probably kill all aboard. Also, the possibility of hiding the launch in the brush was discussed and abandoned quickly. It was larger than a jolly boat and three times as heavy. Jonathan pointed out that maybe the pirates were coming for the rum that Harrison had found and they might leave right after obtaining it.

  “Surely you are correct, Mr. Moore,” Harrison said. “In fact, I would think they will send a small jolly boat in to take the bottles and be off. Let us wait and see and take our chances that they will not discover the launch.”

  By now the sun had almost set, a few weak beams streaking through the trees of the island, and a slight wind started to gain force. Harrison watched the moves of the pirates onboard the ship, and now and again, he would count to himself and ask Jonathan to confirm the number of men he could see.

  Delain and Sean went to attend to Mr. Tupper, who at least was now sitting upright, leaning against the bow of the launch. He accepted the last two strawberries that Delain had taken from the patch and seemed to enjoy the slightly cooler breeze that now had reached the beach.

  “I hope I never have to set foot upon a seagoing vessel as long as I live, Miss Delain,” Tupper said. “Though I understand some actually prefer that life, it would be the death of me.”

  Jonathan and Harrison, with the two marines, kept an eye on the pirate ship. They all agreed that there could be no more than forty men aboard. They had also identified one who appeared to be the captain, a tall yet slight man in a raggedy grey beard who seemed to order the others about, but with little effect. The discipline was lax at best.

  “It would seem,” said Harrison, “that the captain of this ship has slightly less control over his crew than even a French captain possesses.”