As they made their way through the crowd of pirates gathered on the deck, a peculiar sound surrounded them, low and rumbling like far-off thunder. There wasn’t a storm anywhere in sight, however; the sky was clear and streaked with sunset. “What’s that noise?” Hilary whispered to the gargoyle. “Can you hear it too?”
The gargoyle wriggled halfway out of her bag and adjusted his ears. “That’s strange,” he said. “It sounds like someone’s humming.”
“That’s correct,” said Mr. Gull, overhearing them. “Captain Blacktooth always asks his mates to hum in a menacing sort of way whenever an enemy boards the ship. He believes it makes the atmosphere more ominous.”
It seemed to Hilary that the atmosphere was quite ominous enough without all the humming. The deck creaked and groaned under her boots, and an enormous Jolly Roger billowed overhead. Torches burned on either side of the door leading to Blacktooth’s quarters, making the tip of Hilary’s braid curl. The door itself was branded with a skull and crossbones, under which someone had carved a few words with a sharp dagger:
ABANDON ALL HOPE,
YE WHO ENTER HERE
The gargoyle studied the words and yawned. “The skull and crossbones is a nice touch,” he said, “but the motto is awfully theatrical.”
“Captain Blacktooth plundered it from his favorite book,” said Mr. Gull. “Like all great pirate captains, he is extremely well read.” He rapped three times on the door and held it open for Hilary.
Inside Blacktooth’s quarters, the light was dim and the air was smoky. Candles burned in polished sconces. A vast, velvet-draped window overlooked the sea, though the squares of window glass were so warped and rippled that Hilary could barely make out more than a faint impression of sky and waves. Most of the cabin, however, was occupied by a table that bore an uncanny resemblance to the one in Jasper’s cabin on the Pigeon. Hilary wondered if there were regulations governing the sorts of furniture a pirate captain could own.
At one end of the table, Captain Blacktooth sat rigidly in his armchair. He was looking down at a ship’s compass and watching the needle twitch. “Welcome, Terror,” he said without looking up. “Please take a seat.”
Hilary pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table, as far away from Blacktooth as she could get. Mr. Gull gave her a nod of approval and seated himself halfway between the two of them. “May I sit on the table?” the gargoyle asked from Hilary’s lap. “I can’t see anything from down here.”
Hilary bit her lip. “All right,” she said reluctantly, “but you mustn’t hop away from me. I don’t want anyone to snatch you up.”
Captain Blacktooth raised his gaze from the compass. “You must think I’m terribly dishonorable, Pirate Westfield,” he said.
Hilary blinked. “Yes,” she said, “I do.”
“I, however, am not the pirate who stands accused of breaking League rules,” he said. “Please read the charges against the Terror aloud, Mr. Gull. I want her to understand exactly why she is here.”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Gull. He unfolded an ink-splattered sheet of parchment and cleared his throat. “Hilary Westfield, Terror of the Southlands and candidate for president of the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates, has violated the guidelines set forth in Leading the League, seventeenth edition, by inviting non-pirates to join her crew. As a result, her candidacy will be considered null and void, and she will be sent into exile within the hour.” He set down the parchment and looked at Hilary. “It’s all rather straightforward, Terror. Do you wish to challenge these charges, or shall we prepare a ship for your departure from the kingdom?”
Hilary felt as though she were viewing the entire room through the warped and rippled window glass. “Of course I wish to challenge the charges!” she said. “I’d like you to show me the precise place in Leading the League where it says that finishing-school girls aren’t allowed to join a pirate crew.”
“Really, Terror,” said Captain Blacktooth, “there’s no need to waste Mr. Gull’s time. It doesn’t matter how long you drag out this conversation; you’ll still be banished at the end of it.”
“Have patience, Captain,” Mr. Gull said calmly. “The Terror has every right to issue a challenge, and I’m bound to honor her request. It won’t take more than a moment.” He placed his heavy, gold-stamped volume of Leading the League on the tabletop. Unlike Hilary’s copy, this one seemed to have most of its pages; they didn’t even threaten to fall out as Mr. Gull thumbed through them. “Here we are,” he said after a moment. “Page seven hundred thirty-three, appendix Q, clause five. ‘Each candidate for the presidency must be supported in battle by no fewer than two hundred pirates. Wild beasts, enchanted household objects, and other non-pirates do not qualify as supporters and may not be recruited. The penalty for breaking this rule shall be disqualification and exile.’” He passed the open book to Hilary and tapped the page. “The requirement is quite clear.”
“That’s right,” said Blacktooth. “No finishing-school girls—and no water-ballet performers, either. It’s right there in the text.”
Hilary scanned the page that Mr. Gull had pointed to. Then she shut the book. “I’m afraid I don’t agree,” she said.
Blacktooth folded his hands over his stomach. “It’s really not a matter of agreement.”
“The book says that only pirates may support me,” Hilary continued, “but it doesn’t say anywhere on this page that a finishing-school girl is not a pirate. In fact, I’d wager it doesn’t say such a thing anywhere in this entire volume. Does it, Mr. Gull?”
Mr. Gull wrinkled his brow and leafed through Leading the League once more. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I don’t believe it does. It doesn’t mention finishing-school girls at all.”
“Have you lost your wits, Terror?” Captain Blacktooth demanded. “Of course finishing-school girls aren’t pirates! Any fool can see that.”
“Then you must be a fool,” said Hilary. “I don’t think your secretary is as foolish as you are, though. Do the rules say that pirates must be League members, Mr. Gull?”
Mr. Gull scratched his head. “No,” he said, “but—”
“Good,” said Hilary. “Must pirates carry swords?”
“Well,” said Mr. Gull, glancing at Captain Blacktooth, “the book doesn’t discuss it one way or the other.”
“Must they drink grog? Must they grow beards? If they wear petticoats, must they walk the plank?”
Mr. Gull looked rather embarrassed. “I’m afraid the rules don’t specify.”
“Of course they don’t!” Blacktooth seemed to be starting to overheat. He unbuttoned his coat and loosened his cravat. Hilary expected that in a few more moments, he would begin to produce steam and whistle like Miss Greyson’s teakettle. “Everyone in the blasted kingdom knows what a pirate is and what a pirate isn’t. This entire conversation is absurd!”
“As far as I’m concerned,” said Hilary, “if a schoolgirl says she’s a pirate, then so she is—and that goes for water-ballet performers, bakers, and fishmongers as well.”
“And gargoyles!” said the gargoyle.
“Precisely.” Hilary patted his wings. “I used to believe that the VNHLP had the power to make me a pirate, but perhaps I was actually a pirate all along.” She kicked her feet up onto the table. “What do you say to that, gentlemen?”
Blacktooth rolled his eyes. “I say it’s utter nonsense. And furthermore, Mr. Gull should have required you to remove your boots before boarding my ship.” He narrowed his eyes at Mr. Gull. “I’m starting to wonder if my secretary is losing his touch.”
“My apologies, Captain.” Mr. Gull was still squinting into the pages of Leading the League. “It seems to me,” he said, “that both of you present compelling arguments. The Terror is quite right that the rules don’t prohibit finishing-school girls from acting as pirates, and I don’t believe it would be appropriate to punish her.”
The gargoyle began to cheer, but Mr. Gull held up a finger to silence him. �
�However,” he said, “I am sure Captain Blacktooth is correct that the pirates who wrote these documents didn’t intend for anyone to assemble such an unconventional crew. The idea probably never occurred to them, and if it had, they would certainly have outlawed it.” He frowned into the book and rubbed his forehead. “Oh dear. I don’t see what can be done.”
Captain Blacktooth looked down at his compass, which seemed to be pointing in every direction other than north. He looked across the table toward Hilary. Then, to her alarm, he began to smile. “If I may make a suggestion,” he said, “how about a compromise?”
Mr. Gull perked up. “I like the sound of that, Captain.”
“I don’t.” Hilary glared at Blacktooth. “I wasn’t aware that League members were allowed to make compromises.”
“For heaven’s sake, Terror, I’m not completely unreasonable. I’m willing to let you bring your peculiar crewmates into battle if that’s what you truly want—but I’ll need you to agree to my condition first.”
The thought of agreeing with Blacktooth made Hilary’s stomach churn, but being put on the next ship to the Pestilent Home without a chance to say good-bye to her mates would be even worse. “Fine,” she said. “What do you want? It’ll be treasure, I suppose; you Mutineers are awfully predictable.”
“Not exactly.” Captain Blacktooth leaned forward. “If I win our battle, I want you to give me the gargoyle.”
At first, Hilary thought she hadn’t heard him properly. The words hardly made sense. “You want the gargoyle?” she repeated. “My gargoyle?”
“Is there any other?” said Blacktooth. “Whoever triumphs in battle wins the gargoyle. That is my condition.”
Mr. Gull beamed. “An excellent compromise, Captain.”
Nothing about it seemed at all excellent to Hilary. She took her feet off the table and wrapped the gargoyle in her arms. “He’s not a trophy to be won,” she said. “He’s my friend, and I won’t let you have him. You don’t even like him!”
“As a pirate’s companion, he is highly unsuitable,” Blacktooth agreed, “but his magic intrigues me.” He looked at the gargoyle. “The Enchantress ensured that you could only be used for protection, did she not?”
The gargoyle showed his teeth. “That’s right.”
“Well, when you are mine, I’ll have my niece examine you. Perhaps she’ll be able to crack that particular enchantment. Even if she can’t, I’m sure you’ll be able to make yourself useful protecting me from my enemies.”
Hilary stood up. “Mr. Gull,” she said, “please escort me off this ship. I’ll never agree to your captain’s demand, and I’m sure he knows it.”
“Then you’ll forfeit the battle?” said Mr. Gull. “You’ll withdraw your challenge and go willingly into exile?”
This must have been what Blacktooth had wanted all along; he’d never truly intended to compromise. He stared at Hilary, daring her to answer. Even Mr. Gull was on the edge of his seat. Hilary could almost feel the rusty bedsprings at the Pestilent Home digging into her back, and she could almost hear the Mutineers clinking their champagne glasses together with glee when they learned what she was about to do. Perhaps Charlie and Claire and the others would still find a way to defeat them, even if Hilary wasn’t there to see it. She steeled her nerves and met Blacktooth’s stare.
“I agree,” said the gargoyle suddenly. “I accept Captain Blacktooth’s terms.”
The cabin fell silent. Even the candles stopped flickering. If the look on Blacktooth’s face was any indication, he was almost as stunned as Hilary was. “You do?” he asked.
“Yes.” The gargoyle raised his snout nobly. “Whoever wins the pirate battle wins me as well. Go on, Hilary; tell them.”
“No!” she whispered. “What are you doing? I won’t let Blacktooth take you!”
“And I won’t let you forfeit,” the gargoyle replied. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Blacktooth won’t take me.”
“Of course he will! You heard what he said. He’ll force you to protect him!”
“He won’t,” said the gargoyle, “because he’s not going to win.”
The gargoyle sounded so confident of this that Hilary hardly knew what to say. “That’s very sweet of you, but we really can’t be sure—”
“Just tell him you accept his compromise,” the gargoyle said, “or I’ll chomp on your thumbs. I’ve been eyeing the left one for years.”
“Oh, all right.” Hilary moved her thumbs farther away from the gargoyle’s teeth. “Captain Blacktooth has made the most odious suggestion I’ve ever heard,” she told Mr. Gull, “but the gargoyle wants me to agree to it, and I won’t let him down.” She took a breath. “I accept Blacktooth’s compromise.”
“Splendid!” said Mr. Gull, clapping his hands. “If you’ll give me a few moments, I’ll draw up an amendment to the rules, and both of you may sign it.” He crossed the cabin and began to rustle through piles of parchment and ink bottles.
Captain Blacktooth remained in his seat. Hilary could tell he was furious, for he looked just the way the archery mistress at Miss Pimm’s had looked on the first day of piracy lessons. “I know you don’t care for our agreement,” she told him. “Neither do I. But you have more of a right to be cross than I do, because even if you do win our battle, the gargoyle will make a snack of you.”
“I shall do my best to avoid his jaws,” said Blacktooth drily. “Do all of you Westfields have a knack for being infuriating, or are you and your father the only ones who possess it?”
Hilary felt all her muscles grow tense. “If I were anything like my father,” she said, “I’d have tossed you overboard already. How can you bear to help him take over the kingdom? Can’t you see he’ll betray you as soon as he’s finished with you?”
Blacktooth shrugged. “Not if I betray him first.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” the gargoyle said, “I think you could use some better friends.”
“Here we are,” said Mr. Gull, placing a freshly inked sheet of parchment on the table. “I’ve written out your compromise in the most official-sounding words I could think of. Sign here, please.” He handed one pen to Hilary and another to Blacktooth. When they had both signed the document, he pressed it against a blotting paper and tucked it neatly inside his copy of Leading the League. “Thank you both,” he said. “Will you be staying for dinner, Terror?”
“Absolutely not,” said Hilary. “Please take me to the dinghy at once, Mr. Gull.”
Mr. Gull rowed Hilary back to shore, and he tipped his hat as she stepped onto the sand. “I shall see you in two weeks, Terror,” he said, “unless you plan to run away before then.”
“I certainly don’t,” said Hilary. “If you can’t spot me when you sail into Queensport Harbor, don’t be alarmed. I’ll be arriving fashionably late.”
* * *
THE VERY NEARLY HONORABLE LEAGUE OF PIRATES
Servin’ the High Seas for 154 Years
THE RENEGADE
CABIN OF THE PRESIDENT
Let it be noted to one and all that the pirate Rupert Blacktooth and the pirate Hilary Westfield have agreed to the following Amendment to the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates’ rules of battle (originally set forth in Leading the League, Seventeenth Edition):
FIRST, for the purposes of this battle, the term “pirate” shall apply to any individual who wishes to be one, even if she is a student at Miss Pimm’s Finishing School for Delicate Ladies.
SECOND, the pirate captain who emerges victorious in battle shall be granted possession of a magical and opinionated stone beast known as the Gargoyle.
This contract was made aboard the most majestic pirate galleon on the High Seas, the Renegade. It shall remain valid until the unfortunate day when the Jolly Roger no longer flies over the golden shores of Augusta.
Signed,
Captain Rupert Blacktooth, PRESIDENT, VNHLP
Pirate Hilary Westfield, TERROR OF THE SOUTHLANDS
Pirate Horatio Gull, WITNESS
* * *
* * *
PIRATE HILARY WESTFIELD
TERROR OF THE SOUTHLANDS
Sir Nicholas Feathering:
It is well past midnight. I have sipped a glass of warm milk, balanced on my head, and counted exactly five hundred dancing sheep, but I have not yet fallen asleep. You see, Sir Nicholas, I am far too furious to relax. More specifically, I am furious with you.
Not more than a few hours after you so rudely approached me and attempted to gain my trust, Captain Blacktooth and his men ransacked Jasper’s house and nearly succeeded in sending me out of the kingdom. You will be disappointed, I think, when I assure you that I am still here. (Despite my crew’s best tidying efforts, the pirates’ mess remains here as well.) It seems Captain Blacktooth discovered that I have been instructing Miss Pimm’s students in piracy—but you already know this, of course, because you must be the black-hearted double-crosser who gave him this information.
There’s no use in denying it. How long did you spend following me through the streets of Pemberton before I spotted you? Did you spy a sword-fighting lesson through the finishing-school window, perhaps? Or did you overhear my conversations with the gargoyle? He is my dearest friend, Sir Nicholas, and thanks to you, I may lose him forever. I hope you are decent enough to feel a twinge of remorse.
Obviously, our arrangement is canceled. You needn’t worry about giving me any information about Blacktooth’s plans, for I’m sure whatever you tell me will be a falsehood. If the Mutineers ever do turn on you, I won’t lift a finger to help you—and as for Alice, I am sure she is better off staying as far away from her deceitful brother as possible.
I am still furious, but now that I have written you this letter, perhaps I’ll finally be able to get a few hours of sleep. If you contact me again, I shall push you back into the stinging nettles without a second thought, so please don’t bother.
With outrage,
Hilary Westfield
The Buccaneers' Code Page 14