The Wreck of the Ten Sail

by Steven Becker

  A few minutes later the weighted line was in the bilge. I grabbed hold of it and descended the remaining ten feet, landing on the ballast.

  My heart sank.

  It all appeared to be stone encrusted with growth from the reef. No silver shone back at me. Either it was the wrong ship or we had come here for nothing. Defeated, I pulled myself up the line to the skiff.

  Mason and the crewmen pulled me aboard and removed the headgear. I sat on deck catching my breath while both men waited patiently, anxious to know what I had found.

  “Stone,” I said, trying to slow my breath. “It’s all just stone.”

  “Stone?” Mason echoed. The disappointment was clear on his face.

  “Looks that way. All covered with barnacles and sea life.”

  Mason thought for a moment and then looked at me. “Any of it look dark, maybe black?”

  I thought back to what I had seen and, although I couldn’t answer for sure, I remembered that the lower stones appeared black in the light. I looked at Mason and nodded.

  “I should have told you what the seawater does to silver. Just a few days of it’ll start to hide the shine and turn the metal black. Over time, it forms a casing.”

  That could have been what I had seen. Suddenly I felt invigorated. I moved to grab the headgear when Mason put his hand on my arm.

  “Maybe we ought to play this as a loss for a bit. Might be better if we know what we have before they do. The minute you bring something up, they’ll be on us.”

  I agreed. We needed to delay, at least until Phillip and Blue returned. But the treasure was too close. I had to know. “What if I take a knife and scrape the stones down there?”

  “That’ll work.” He smiled.

  “Keep a watch for Phillip and Blue,” I said before I put on the helmet and tumbled back into the sea. With the pry bar in one hand and a knife in the other, I followed the weighted line into the hold and stood again on the stones. The light was better now with the sun directly overhead, and I used the bar to move the ballast apart. Some coral broke free, creating a cloud of silt. I had to wait for it to settle before I could see what was there.

  It seemed to take forever for the stones to come back into view. I busied myself with watching the sea life, but I was unable to enjoy it as I anxiously glanced back at the pile every few seconds. Finally the silt settled and I got on my knees to examine the stones. The first two I took the knife to revealed only granite, but the third was different. The black casing fell away, revealing the dull glint of silver.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I skipped the last rung on the ladder and set foot on the deck of the Panther, doing my best to look disappointed. Mason knew what I had found, but we had decided there was nothing to be gained from revealing what we had found until Phillip and Blue returned. Pott stood in front of me with Gruber just behind him, barely giving me enough room to step on deck.

  “Well?” Pott asked.

  The Grub, as the crew had taken to calling him, leaned over the little man’s shoulder and I swore I could smell his foul breath from three feet away. I shook my head and lowered it to conceal my face. “Just stone.”

  “It has to be there,” he insisted. “You must dive again.”

  Gruber nodded behind him.

  “He’ll go when he’s rested and ready,” Rhames said, coming toward us and forcing his body between the two men and me.

  He and Gruber exchanged looks and I knew before this affair was over, it would end badly for one of them. The sky darkened and we all looked at once to the thunderhead blocking the sun. It was moving toward us with the top of the anvil reaching high into the sky. A grey wall of rain could be seen streaming from its tail.

  “We’ll have to wait out the storm,” I said.

  “It ain’t storming under water,” Pott said.

  I took another look at the storm to buy some time and thought I saw a small sail, just a dot on the horizon, trailing behind it. “Let me eat something and I’ll go have another look.”

  I pushed past the little man, causing him to back into Gruber, who in turn pushed Rhames. The two men squared off, each ready to fight. “Not now,” I called to Rhames, who gritted his teeth, but obeyed. “You and Mason come down with me.”

  Pott objected. “There’ll be none of these private meetings on my watch. The governor’s put me here to see that everything is aboveboard. If you have something to say to these men, it should be said in front of me,” Pott spat.

  Gruber, empowered by my restraint of Rhames, nodded his approval.

  Rhames looked at me again with a pleading look on his face, but I shook my head.

  “Right, then,” I said, turning so their backs were to the storm and the approaching ship. It was a single sail clearly outlined by the grey backdrop. I strained to see if it flew the red pennant that was our signal, but it was too far away. “I’m going down to get some food. Why don’t you gentlemen join me and we can review the afternoon’s dive.” I placed Swift at the helm, with a quiet word to alert me on the progress of the ship, and led the procession below.

  Shayla was in the galley, but on seeing Pott and Gruber enter, she disappeared. Pott noticed. I could see the calculating look on his face, but he said nothing. We sat and ate the fish she had been preparing. I needed to buy some time and I was ravenous from the dive, so it wasn’t hard to delay conversation until the food was gone.

  “You have a plan, then?” Pott asked, his impatience showing.

  There was something odd about the man. Whenever he spoke, his face contorted as if he were in a great deal of pain. I had seated myself to allow a clear view of the companionway, hoping to catch a sign from Swift, but the opening showed only grey sky.

  “I might have another look,” I finally said.

  “How many looks do you need before we move and look somewhere else? It seems to me you’re stalling.”

  I glanced again at the companionway, but this time he saw me.

  “What’s that you’re looking for?” he asked, rising to his feet.

  The big man got up behind him, pushing the table into Rhames and Mason. I gave Rhames another look to restrain him, but knew his fuse was getting short. We had no choice but to follow the two men on deck.

  I chanced a look at where I thought the ship should have been, but the storm had moved between us, and the seas had increased from the wind accompanying the weather.

  “He’s right,” I said. “One more try and we’ll move on.” There were several other squalls on the horizon, but it was pointless to wait them out. They would do what they would.

  I climbed down the ladder to the skiff and waited for Mason and the two crewmen to help me suit up. Pott and Gruber leaned over the rail again, watching. At least their attention would be diverted from the ship, which, if it was our men, would be approaching from the starboard side. Two crewmen joined Mason and me in the skiff and I was soon underwater again.

  We’d had a quiet word about what to do with the silver and had decided to pile it on the wreck’s deck. We would have to determine the best time to bring it up.

  I landed on the deck of the sunken ship. The weighted line was beside me and I took it to the bilge, where I placed my hand loosely around it and dropped into darkness. On my knees, I felt around for the silver ballast stone. Finding it, I pulled it from the pile and set it to the side. The hold grew darker and I looked up apprehensively. It was just a cloud shielding the sun, but it was hard to see now. Fortunately, the shape of the silver casting was easy to identify, and I began removing the pieces that felt right.

  One by one I brought them up and piled them on the deck of the Ludlow. I was sweating from the exertion, and the faceplate had fogged up, making it hard to see. My breath came in huge gulps as I tried to replenish my lungs. Exhausted, I placed the last of the silver blocks on the deck and pulled on the line, our signal that I was finished. Nothing happened and I realized that neither of the divers had been down in a while. I pulled again and waited, wondering w
hat was wrong.

  Without warning, the makeshift helmet collapsed around my head, and I was suddenly unable to breathe. Something was going on above, but I couldn’t afford to wait.

  Holding my breath, I started to pull myself up the line but I made little progress. I began to panic, until I remembered the weights around my waist. I released the belt, and without the burden, I moved quickly up the rope, straining my head in the gear to scan the surface for activity. The water was churning around the skiff but, unable to release the headgear without help, I continued up the rope until my head broke the surface.

  “Hurry up, Nick!” Mason said as the men grabbed me under the arms and pulled me aboard the skiff. “The pinnace is in the bay.”

  I tried to turn, but the headgear restricted my movement until the two crewmen released the tie and removed it. After at least an hour underwater, even the cloudy sky blinded me. I squinted towards the cut and saw the small boat bobbing on her anchor.

  My eyes adjusted and I turned to Mason. “Was she flying the red flag?”

  “She was.” Mason nodded, dropping the line in the water and releasing the anchor line.

  While the crewmen rowed back, I tried to put the pieces together. The pinnace had flown the red pennant, meaning Phillip and Blue controlled her, and they must have the treasure or they would never have risked stealing the boat. Without the weight of the chests, they could have easily made it back undetected by land.

  I looked back at the single-masted ship and saw it was inside the reef, well within range of the shore battery. Not sure who controlled the guns, I could not dismiss the threat, though I doubted that the governor would risk firing on them with the treasure aboard.

  “Why are they inside the reef?” I asked Mason as we pulled our way back to the ladder.

  “Storm drove them in,” he said, following me up the side of the ship.

  We had just reached the deck when Pott ran to me. “That’s the governor’s pinnace,” he shouted. “The red flag is no signal of ours! What trickery are you men up to?” He turned to me, his stinking breath scorching my face.

  Before I could speak, a loud boom sounded and lightning struck just outside the reef. There was nothing we could do but find cover and ride out the storm.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The squall had finally spent itself, and one by one we rose from where we had found protection from the storm. A light rain continued, but sunlight started to filter through the clouds as they moved out to sea. My first thought was of the pinnace, but as I looked toward the sound, another ship caught my eye. The frigate was back, moving into position to block the entrance to the cut. Our men had been spotted and were now bottled up inside the reef.

  The Panther was still anchored over the wreck on the far side of the reef, in no position to help. We could pull anchor and escape, but with our treasure bottled up in the harbor and the silver still at the bottom, that plan was not to our liking. We had to fight.

  “Weigh anchor,” I ordered. There was no way we would sit and remain an easy target. Once we were mobile, our options would increase.

  “No!” shouted Pott before he looked at his protector, issued an unspoken order, and ran for the companionway.

  Gruber moved to the bow and forced his way through the men who were busy hauling the anchor chain around the capstan. Swinging both arms, he lashed at the men, forcing them away from their work.

  “Open the arms chest,” I yelled. “He can’t fight us all at once.”

  I ran to the stern, where Rhames met me and used the key around his neck to unlock our weapons. We each grabbed a sword and made for the bow. As we passed the companionway, I saw Pott emerge with a pistol in each hand.

  He pointed one gun directly at me. “Maybe we should have a talk before you go and do something stupid and get us all killed,” he said and motioned me to the helm.

  We stood together by the wheel, the pistol still aimed at my head. Without looking, he turned his left hand to starboard and fired a shot towards the governor’s ship. I wondered what he was up to.

  At its apex, his shot exploded into a brilliant flash of orange. It was clearly a signal to the other vessels.

  “Make the skiff ready,” he said, the barrel of the other gun still trained on me. “Gruber, let’s go,” he called to the bow before walking backwards toward the ladder. “Get those men up here,” he said to me.

  The two crewmen were still aboard the skiff waiting for orders. Instead of ordering them to tie up, I did the opposite. “Stand off one hundred yards,” I ordered. The men looked confused but did as I asked. We stood in silence watching the skiff move away.

  “That wasn’t what I asked,” Pott barked, jabbing the gun into my temple.

  “You only have one shot,” I said, feeling braver than I felt. “Go ahead. Your man can’t hold off this many men.”

  I could tell from the look in his eye that I had won, but now the frigate was underway and moving toward us.

  “Right, then. Let’s get on with it.” I went for the wheel, and Rhames went to the bow with several armed men in his wake.

  “I’ll handle the Grub,” he called to me.

  I knew he had been waiting for this moment, and I let him have his way. “Raise sail,” I yelled to the men in the rigging, who were watching the action below. It was good to have a full crew. I wasn’t sure how skilled they would be as seamen if we needed to maneuver in tight quarters, but at least we had the numbers.

  The mainsail filled and the anchor chain groaned under the strain, but it still held. There was nothing I could do from the helm but watch until Rhames removed the giant and raised the anchor. The men parted as he made his way forward and he stood face to face with Gruber. A smile crossed his face for a brief second and he raised his sword.

  “Stand back,” he ordered the men. “I’ll handle this.” Then Rhames charged the giant.

  Gruber blocked his charge with a downward chop, then sidestepped, out of the way faster than I thought was possible for a man of his size. Rhames turned back, his smile gone.

  I yelled a warning when Gruber reached behind him and grabbed the fire axe mounted on the mast. He slashed back and forth, moving closer to Rhames with each swing. The men moved out of the way, snarling insults and circling each other. It was just the two of them in a standoff by the forepeak. I realized that the way to the anchor was clear, and I called to the other men.

  “Never mind them,” I ordered. “Raise the anchor.”

  After a moment, I felt the anchor break free and I suddenly had control of the wheel. I saw the two men trading blows, with Gruber slashing furiously at Rhames, who was down on one knee and unable to counter. I gave the order to come about and looked ahead to start our turn through the wind.

  My only hope was that the larger man knew little about sailing and Rhames could take advantage of the unexpected movement of the ship. “Coming about,” I yelled as the men in the rigging ducked under the stays and the sails snapped around.

  Rhames knew what was coming and used the momentum of the turn to roll to the side of the man, who was thrown off balance from the ship’s sudden change of course. Just as Rhames came back to his feet, he cut a low blow to Gruber’s ankles. Blood spurted from his Achilles tendons and the man screamed as he fell to the deck. With a diving lunge, Rhames finished him.

  At the same moment, a shot fired by my head, and my ear exploded in pain. I had forgotten about Pott. I checked my head to make sure it hadn’t been blown open, but there was no blood and I still had my wits about me. I turned to where he had stood and saw Shayla standing above the rodent, holding a saber to his throat.

  “I have the wheel,” Mason yelled. I barely heard him through the ringing in my ears and moved out of the way.

  There was no time to thank Shayla, but the quick look we exchanged said enough. She was about to stab him again, but I caught her arm with my hand, stopping the blow.

  “Bastard deserves to die,” she hissed.

  “That he does
, but we need him to bear witness first. He’s a king’s man and we’ll need his testimony to clear our names.”

  I felt her relax and she let me take the blade from her. Pott was rolling on the deck, hugging his wounded arm to his chest. I looked for Lucy to doctor him, but remembered she was on the pinnace.

  “I’ll handle it,” Shayla said, “but it won’t be pleasant.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  We could little afford to try and match broadsides with the schooner. They had at least twice the guns and a more experienced crew. Evasion and trickery had worked for us before, and it would have to again.

  The girl had enlisted several crewmen to get Pott below, and the body of Gruber was tossed overboard, food for whatever sharks wanted a piece of that foul meat. With the governor’s men gone, we could speak freely.

  “Turn to starboard,” I called to Mason and went into the rigging for a better vantage point. We had been on an easterly course, away from land. This would make sense to the crew of the schooner, as their captain would assume we were trying to lure them away from the pinnace trapped inside the reef. But Phillip had drawn a sketch of the water surrounding us, including another exit from the sound. He wasn’t sure of the depth, but after my time underwater, I had an idea how to enlarge it.

  “What have you in mind?” Mason called back.

  “Through the cut and into the bay. The frigate draws too much water to follow,” I called back.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said, loud enough for too many men to hear.

  I ignored his doubts. “Get two men on the lead and hug the reef.”

  I judged the range of the cannons on shore, and I had to assume the governor had sent men to secure them after discovering the theft. I turned to see how the frigate had reacted to our course change. As I hoped, they were preparing to shoot to starboard, not toward land, but their preparations had been to the wrong side. With the wind behind them, the only move the captain would have would be to jibe, and that wouldn’t correct the situation for him. His ship was larger than ours, and I was counting on its deeper draft to keep him out of the sound and away from the reef.