Carter cut slowly, continuing one of the old scars to the other side of David’s chest. He cut as shallow as he could, wanting the pain to last as long as possible. By the time Fletcher died he swore that every inch of his body would be cut and cut again.
CHAPTER 27
From the clearing there suddenly came the sound of shouting and musket fire. Carter sprang up and ran to the edge of the trees. Three of his men lay dead. Armed men and natives were running towards him. With a scream of rage Carter turned and ran back to his prisoner. He dropped his knees onto David’s stomach, driving the breath out of his victim’s body and raised his knife above his head to stab down into David’s throat. As the knife descended there was a flash of light and Carter’s hand was severed at the wrist. Both his hand and knife fell to the ground beside David’s head. Blood sprayed into the air and into David’s eyes, blinding him. Still Carter attacked. Screaming his rage he attempted to strangle his victim with his left hand. Suddenly, all movement stopped and a weight fell across David’s body.
Somebody wiped the blood from David’s eyes and he found himself looking into Jameel’s face.
‘I will untie you, Captain. Are you in pain?’ the boy asked. Carter’s headless body was dragged off of David by an Arab in a white robe. ‘This is my cousin Akram,’ Jameel explained, as he cut David’s bonds.
Chaney was suddenly beside him, helping him to his feet.
‘Have you found Mr. St. George? Does he live?’ David demanded.
‘He lives, Captain.’
‘Then for god’s sake find me some clothes and get us out of here.’
‘You’re bleeding, Captain. We must get you back to the surgeon.’
‘Most of it is Carter’s blood,’ David told him. ‘And anyway I’m not walking through the jungle naked.’
Once the captain was dressed in Carter’s lice-infested shirt and britches they set off back the way they had come. Halfway to the ship David had to sit down; the rough bandage Chaney had put round his chest had slipped and blood was again running down his front. His legs shook and he felt weak.
‘Tell me what happened,’ he ordered. ‘Jameel, where did you find a cousin?’
The boy grinned. ‘I found two cousins, Captain. My father sent them to warn us about Carter and protect me. Luckily he also told them to try and help you. It was Akram who cut off Carter’s hand and then his head.’
‘I see, but how did they get here?’
‘They have been travelling as part of Carter’s crew pretending to be slaves; two of the sultan’s best swordsmen.’ Jameel laughed.
David turned to Chaney. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘You were told to stay with the ship.’
‘I thought the locals might need a hand, Captain, and I knew you wouldn’t really want us to stay away.’ The marine smiled at him.
‘I will leave that for Mr. Martin when we return on board. How is Mr. St. George?’ David looked across at the midshipman who sat huddled in a dirty top coat some distance away.
Chaney frowned. ‘Not too well, sir. He was naked when we found him and has not spoken.’
‘Was he cut?’
‘He has some small cuts, sir, and a lot of bruises.’
‘Very well, let’s get back.’ David got to his feet only to stagger and would have fallen if Chaney had not grabbed him.
‘I’ll get the boys to carry you, sir,’ Chaney said. And David did not argue. As they walked back through the jungle the natives began singing and laughing; they obviously believed they had won a victory and perhaps they had.
The surgeon insisted that David was washed from head to toe before he would stitch the cut across his captain’s chest.
‘The cut is quite shallow,’ he said. ‘Hardly worth stitching; nothing like the cuts that made your other scars.’
‘Yes, Doctor, I believe he intended to work on me for some time,’ David told him. The last remnant of Carter disappeared when Jones threw the dirty clothes over the side. The ship was almost ready for sea and David instructed Lieutenant Peterson to sail as soon as possible.
Peterson got the ship underway with the first of the morning breeze and with two leadsmen in the chains felt his way out to sea. Twice they touched the ground. David congratulated him once again on successfully bringing the ship into this place.
‘Pure luck, sir, I assure you,’ the lieutenant told him.
‘Then I pray you stay lucky.’ David grinned at him.
The two Arabs, Akram and Hamid, had told of three ships in a landlocked bay to the north and Jameel had confirmed that this was the bay he had spoken of. This was where they would go. Zuri and his father had set off with the tribe overland in the same direction. They would find a location for their new village away from the French.
David had given them as many gifts as he had and thanked them for their help. Unbeknown to him Jones had given Zuri a small cask of powder and a bag of shot for his pistol.
Once clear of the land David asked for Midshipman St. George to be brought aft. He arrived with the surgeon. The boy’s face had a crumpled, shocked look; he still had not spoken.
‘Sit down, Francis,’ David told him. ‘How do you feel?’
The midshipman stared at him without speaking. The boy jumped when Woods put his hand on his shoulder.
‘How is he, surgeon?’ David asked.
‘He has many cuts and bruises, also many insect bites, but all in all he is intact. I think the shock of his experiences is the main problem, Captain.’
‘Very well, please keep a close watch on him, Mr. Woods.’
‘I will, sir.’
As Woods and his patient left Lieutenant Martin and Chaney came in. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, sir,’ Martin began, ‘but I believe we must discuss my sergeant’s behaviour.’
‘As you wish, Mr. Martin,’ David replied.
‘I am, of course, very pleased with the outcome of this latest endeavour,’ Martin continued, ‘but I cannot have my orders ignored by my subordinates. I understand that you and Chaney have a long history and I fully understand the vigour displayed by my sergeant, but in order to maintain discipline I feel I have to reduce him to the rank of private.’
David paused for a moment before replying. ‘I will, of course, not interfere in your department, Mr. Martin,’ he said. ‘You must act as you feel fit. However, in light of the successful outcome of what was a very unusual situation perhaps you might take a more lenient view; in fact, it was my orders that were ignored.’
‘In that case, sir, I would put him on captain’s report and leave his punishment to you.’
Martin seemed relieved to pass the problem on. ‘I will return to my duty, sir.’ The lieutenant touched his forelock and left.
Chaney stood to attention in front of David’s desk.
‘What am I to do with you, Chaney?
You well know that disobeying an order in time of war should result in flogging or even hanging.’ Chaney said nothing. ‘Say something, man.’ David watched the marine who remained silent for some minutes and then said, ‘I will defer punishment until a later date. Get out of here.’
Chaney said, ‘If I might speak, sir?’
With exasperation David said, ‘I have been asking you to.’
‘When we arrived at the clearing, sir, there were two men with Mr. St. George, holding him down in the grass. When they saw us they fled into the jungle heading north.’
‘What nature of men?’
‘They were young-looking, sir, with a light tan.’
‘Did they look European?’
‘More like Jameel’s colour, sir.’
‘Only two men went north?’
‘I’m not sure, sir; we were looking for you.’
‘Yes, of course, thank you, Chaney.’
Once the marine had left David called for Jameel and his two cousins to be brought aft.
The three young men made a picture of health as they stood before his desk. David noted the large curved swords and matching dag
gers the two new Arabs wore. How could anybody have believed these men were slaves? He wondered.
‘Jameel, please ask your cousins about two young men who abused Mr. St. George and fled into the jungle when my marines arrived.’
After some discussion between the three, Jameel said, ‘Hamid knows not where they went, but there were two brothers who took pleasure in tormenting the boy. One was the captain of one of Carter’s ships and the other was the mate on board the xebec.’
‘Ask them how long it would take for these men to reach the bay we are going to.’
Again there was some conversation until Jameel turned back to David and said, ‘It would take about two days through the jungle, Captain.’
‘Thank you, Jameel,’ David said, ‘and please thank your cousins for their timely efforts. They will be rewarded.’ Once the men had left David called to Jones. ‘Go to Mr. Peterson and ask him to make more sail,’ he ordered. ‘We must try to reach our destination in twenty-four hours.’
The Challenger set off in fine style, but the breeze, fickle as always, dropped off as the day wore on and by mid-afternoon they lay becalmed. As Woods changed the dressing on David’s chest, Peterson sat beside him and discussed the ship’s condition.
‘There is some small ingress of water, Captain,’ he reported, ‘but the carpenter assures me she will take up. The trim is not quite right; I believe her to be a little down by the stern and the standing rigging will need to be taken up; otherwise I think she will do.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, Stephen. Please put the hands to gun drill; our losses will necessitate some reorganization. Now I would like to rest a little.’ Once the men had gone David lay down, his stomach was heaving and he was starting a fever. He remembered the days he had spent in delirium after Carter had cut him the last time.
David awoke to find Jones shaking his shoulder. ‘Mr. Peterson’s respects, sir,’ he said. ‘Could you please come on deck?’
After struggling into his coat, with Jones helping, David walked out onto the quarterdeck. It was pitch dark with no moon and the ship lay motionless and showed no lights. Peterson guided him to the larboard rail and pointed into the night.
‘If you look just there, sir, there’s a darker patch. I believe it to be a ship and if you listen, sir, I’m sure I heard men talking in French.’
‘How sure are you?’
‘I’m very sure, sir.’
‘Very well, bring the ship to quarters, no noise, take your time and post extra lookouts.’ Acting Lieutenant Smyth went aloft with an eye glass and for the next four hours the ship waited in silence for news. Two hours before dawn the sky began to clear and with the light of the stars Smyth came to a decision. Sliding down a backstay he reported to his captain.
‘It’s a frigate, sir, and going away from us heading south.’
David looked at the slack sails. ‘He’s moving?’
‘Yes, sir, very slowly, but he’s definitely moving.’
‘Then we must let him go on his way; keep a close eye on him.’
With the dawn came a light breeze from the land and from the masthead the lookout confirmed a frigate hull down to the south.
As David drank some strange-tasting soup that Jones had come up with, he considered his options. Since coming to this region the Challenger had lost almost one third of her complement. She now had fourteen Frenchmen in crew, who would have to be locked below during any action with a French warship. Success against a thirty-six-gun frigate seemed unlikely, but if an action came it was his duty to win it.
For the moment he would continue on to Jameel’s bay and see what fortune brought.
Towards noon the masthead lookout reported land at a distance of three miles. The morning sun had brought a mist, which obscured the horizon and was only now clearing as the breeze freshened. Almost in the same breath he called down a sail close into the land. Through the glass a brigantine was confirmed. Peterson sent Midshipman Carpenter to inform the captain and then ordered the ship to quarters.
David arrived on deck stripped to the waist, a large bandage across his chest. The heat was making him very uncomfortable and his wound itched, but his fever seemed to have gone. The breeze being offshore David ordered the ship put close onto the wind. The other ship was heading east directly away from the shore.
‘Load the starboard battery with both shot and grape and run out,’ he told Mr. Michael.
Jameel and his cousins appeared beside him. ‘I’m told that is Carter’s brigantine,’ he said, ‘and the entrance to the bay is just behind him, Captain.’ At that moment the pirate ship gibed round to the north.
‘He sees us,’ David shouted to the sailing master. ‘Bear away and set your t’gallants.’ As the Challenger came round she was just over two miles distant. ‘Load and run out both batteries,’ David ordered. ‘He will come about when he sees he cannot outrun us; we will try a long shot with the starboard battery and then tack towards him.’ Once settled on her new course the sloop began to steadily close the range.
Lieutenant Michael reported his battery ready and David had the sloop fall off the wind until the guns bore. On the up roll he screamed, ‘Now fire.’ The powder smoke swept over the deck, blinding all to the fall of shot for some moments. When it cleared they saw that the brigantine was hard hit; her main mast was falling in a mass of wreckage. ‘Stow your t’gallants and courses; we will tack and fire the larboard guns and then heave to under his lee,’ David instructed Mr. Samuel. ‘Mr. Martin, you will board with as many marines as you think necessary. Mr. Peterson, you will go with him and assume command of the prize; take what men you need. If you have any trouble, stand clear and I’ll send her to the bottom.’ The second broadside was unnecessary as the brigantine lay still in the water.
Sometime later the marines returned with four prisoners, one of which was badly wounded. Lieutenant Martin clumped across the deck to David. ‘Mr. Peterson’s respects, sir, he reports that the brigantine is in poor condition. The foremast was hit and is unsound. She is also taking in water.’
‘Very well, send the boat back and instruct Mr. Peterson to carry out a careful search and bring back anything of value; he can then abandon the prize.’
This was not as easy as it seemed, however; the brigantine’s hold was filled with cargo that would fetch a good price in London. Finally, David made the trip across to the prize and, with some regret, picked the pieces they had room for and abandoned the rest. They did find several chests of silver and one small chest of gold and jewels in the cabin. This alone would buy three sloops like the Challenger. Once he was back on board the ship David ordered the sloop taken into the bay where they found a large merchant ship and a xebec anchored.
The first task before them was to bury the decomposing bodies that lay along the foreshore. There were men, women and even a priest moving slowly backwards and forwards in the slight swell. All were carried to the ruins of a small mission and buried after a few words had been spoken over them.
That evening the crew built fires on the beach and cooked their food in the open air, whilst David and his officers interrogated the prisoners.
At first, they all claimed to be merchant seamen forced into service by Carter, but the Arabs pointed out a young Brazilian who had been Carter’s mate. His brother had died on the brigantine.
‘These were the two who had abused Midshipman St. George and could be identified by Akram and Hamid,’ Jameel explained.
All the pirates looked as cold hearted as the next and none would admit to anything.
It was decided that all would hang at first light and let that be an end to it. Just before dawn, however, the young Brazilian was found with stab wounds in his stomach and his guards claimed to have seen and heard nothing. Midshipman St. George was much more himself as he watched the hanging and started talking with his mess mates in a normal way. David decided this would not be looked into too closely.
What to do with all these ships was now David’s problem; he could spare
crew for the merchantman, but if he manned the xebec as well he would not have sufficient hands to fight the sloop if he had to. An answer was presented when Jameel and his cousins asked if they could leave the ship and wait for Jameel’s father to arrive later in the year. The boy also mentioned that the xebec had been his father’s.
David considered this for a moment and then said, ‘If I leave you the xebec, you three would need help to man her.’
‘That’s not a problem, Captain.’ The boy flashed his whiter than white smile. ‘We can find crew.’
CHAPTER 28
David thought they would take slaves to make up the numbers, which was not to his liking, but decided to let it pass.
‘Very well, Jameel,’ he said. ‘The xebec is yours.’
‘Thank you, Captain, you are very kind. There is, however, one other thing.’ Jameel looked slightly embarrassed. ‘When Carter took the ship he stole a small box of treasure, which my cousins were asked to recover.’
David looked at the three innocent-looking faces and was sure he was being lied to. ‘This treasure chest, would you recognize it if you saw it?’
‘Yes, Captain, without doubt,’ Jameel assured him. Of course you would, David thought.
David had to smile to himself; these people were as sharp as razors. He was, however, very aware that whatever success he had had with this mission was to some extent due to Jameel and he owed his life to Akram.
‘Very well,’ he said, standing from behind his desk. ‘Let’s go and see if we can find your treasure.’
When David returned to his cabin, having watched the three Arabs row across to the xebec, Jones said, ‘I think my father owned one of those boxes of silver, Captain.’ He had a large grin on his face.
‘Stop talking rubbish, Jones, and find some wine,’ David told him; he could not quite hide his own grin. ‘Mr. Peterson is coming aft.’
As they sat with glasses in hand David told Peterson they would be returning to England. ‘I feel we have done our duty here,’ he said. ‘And it is time for us to go home. Mr. Davis, master’s mate, can command the merchantman with a minimum crew. How will that leave us in the Challenger?’
By the Knife Page 35