Pirate Mutiny (Time Hunters, Book 5)

by Chris Blake

  “Oh, let me guess,” Tom said. “I bet you were trained at the age of four by the best spitter in your dad’s army.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Isis said, shaking her head. “I was trained by the best spitter in all of Ancient Egypt, silly!”

  The two burst into fits of giggles.

  Suddenly Isis stopped. “Ooooh! A ship!”

  They watched as the tiny dot on the horizon sailed into view. The French flag was flying from the ship’s mast.

  “It’s a French ship,” Tom said, groaning. “No use to us. Let’s keep a lookout”

  The sun climbed high in the sky. Tom’s legs ached after hours of standing in the cramped crow’s nest. The heat was making him feel sleepy. First his head lolled forward. Then his eyelids started drooping. But suddenly he spotted something …

  “A white flag with a red cross!” Tom cried. He nearly fell out of the crow’s nest with excitement. He squinted at the galleon bobbing in the distance. “Captain!” he called down to Blackbeard. “Spaniards ahoy!”

  Tom and Isis scrambled down to the deck.

  “See how low in the water that ship is?” Silas said, pointing at the galleon. “That means its hold is full of cargo!” He lowered his voice. “Rumour has it that this galleon is carrying gold from Cuba!”

  “Take down the Jolly Roger, men!” Blackbeard barked, his eyes flashing. “Hoist the Spanish colours. Let them think we’re a friendly vessel. Arrrr!”

  The Revenge’s flag, with its warrior skeleton and bleeding heart, was lowered.

  “Below deck, men!” Blackbeard told the crew. “We don’t want them seeing your ugly faces now, do we?”

  Tom and Isis followed everyone to the hatch. They were just about to go down the stairs when—

  “Not so fast, short stuff!” Blackbeard said.

  Tom swung round to see the captain holding out two velvet dresses – one blue, one yellow – and feathered hats to match.

  “Put these on!” he barked. “If the Spanish spot ladies on board, they’ll think we’re a harmless passenger ship. It tricks them every time!”

  Isis grabbed the blue dress. She pulled it on straight away over her shirt and breeches. “Lovely!” she said, twirling. She took the fan that was sticking out from under Blackbeard’s arm and started waving it about.

  Tom shook his head. “I. Am. Not. Wearing. A. Dress!” he said.

  Then he noticed Blackbeard’s fingers curl round the hilt of his cutlass.

  “What I meant to s-say was, it looks j-just my colour,” he said. Tom reached for the dress and quickly slipped it on.

  “It’s only fair,” Isis said quietly, smoothing down her skirt. “After all, I’ve had to pretend to be a boy everywhere we’ve travelled to – now it’s your turn to be girl.”

  Holding up his skirt, Tom stomped back and forth along the deck, scowling.

  “You’re meant to stroll like a lady not stomp like an elephant,” Isis said, laughing.

  Although Tom felt silly, he saw that Blackbeard’s trick had worked. Thinking that the Revenge was another Spanish ship, the Spanish galleon sailed so close that its sails cast long shadows over Blackbeard’s sloop. Tom read the name, Santa Cruz, on its prow.

  Tom covered his face with his open fan so that nobody on the Spanish galleon would be able to read his lips. “Remember the riddle mentioned finding the amulet within sight of the red cross galleon?” he asked Isis. “Well, maybe the amulet …”

  “Is on that ship!” Isis suggested.

  “Send a warning shot, One-eye Pete!” ordered Blackbeard, peering out from his hiding place.

  BOOM! The Revenge shook as the gunner fired the cannon at the Santa Cruz. The battle had begun!

  “All hands on deck!” Blackbeard yelled. The pirates stormed up the stairs from below. Sal stepped on to the main deck, holding a wooden cooking spoon.

  “You’re going to want a better weapon than that, matey,” laughed Blackbeard, as he strode past.

  “Well I guess you’re going to be a real pirate now, Sal,” Tom said. “This is what you wanted, right?”

  But instead of looking fierce and terrifying, Sal looked nervous.

  Suddenly, realising it had been tricked, the Santa Cruz fired its cannon at the Revenge. The cannon ball missed and landed in the water with a splash, but the noise made Sal jump into action. He dropped his spoon, grabbed a sword and shouted, “Aaaaarrr!”

  “That’s more like it!” called Isis.

  Tom watched as the Jolly Roger was raised. He wondered how the crew of the Santa Cruz would feel when they saw the skeleton holding the hourglass and spear. Would they realise straight away that it was the dreaded Blackbeard himself?! If they did, surely they would be terrified! He could see the oars of the Spanish galleon desperately trying to swing the giant ship round, but it was no use. The Revenge glided easily alongside it.

  Blackbeard strutted up and down deck with his chest puffed out. “Throw those grappling hooks across! Pull them in!”

  As soon as the galleon bumped up against the Revenge, Blackbeard leaped up on to the gunwale.

  “Aaaaarrr! Prepare to be boarded, you Spanish rats!” he cried. He drew his cutlass and jumped across on to the Santa Cruz’s deck. Firecrackers exploded beneath his hat. RAT-ATAT-TAT!

  With a thudding heart, Tom watched as Sal and the other pirates started boarding the Santa Cruz with battle cries of, “Aaaaarrr!”

  “Toss the grenades!” Blackbeard ordered the crew still on board, waving his cutlass in the air.

  Suddenly, black egg-shaped missiles were pelted from the Revenge. They hit the deck of the Santa Cruz, bursting into clouds of smoke.

  The Spanish crew were shouting and trying to fight off the pirates with their swords.

  “What are you waiting for?” Isis asked Tom, grabbing a cutlass. She climbed up to the gunwale.

  Tom’s heart raced. He peered over at the struggle that was taking place on the Santa Cruz. That looks bad, he thought.

  “Wait here for me, Fluffpot!” Isis called to Cleo. “I’ll be back in a flash.” She turned to Tom. “Well?” she asked. “Do you want to find the amulet or not?” Then she leaped across to the Spanish galleon.

  “Here goes nothing!” Tom said, grabbing another cutlass and following Isis over the gunwale, into the smoke and fighting.

  The pirates’ cutlasses clashed against Spanish swords. Fists flew. The Spanish sailors soon found themselves surrounded on all sides by Blackbeard’s pirates and their deadly weapons.

  As Tom and Isis hid behind two large barrels, Tom heard a growling voice through the smoke.

  “Tell me where the gold is, or I’ll pull your toenails off, one by one!”

  Peeping between the barrels, Tom saw Blackbeard stooping over a man wearing a white wig, a large black hat and a tailcoat embroidered with gold.

  Blackbeard held a knife to the man’s throat. “Oro! Oro!” he bellowed. “That’s your word for gold, isn’t it, Capitán?”

  The Spanish captain shook his head and kept his mouth tightly closed.

  “Surrender, and we’ll let you go,” Blackbeard said, above the din of the fighting.

  Tom nudged Isis. “We’d better hurry,” he said. “Before the Spanish captain tells Blackbeard where the treasure is.”

  Isis pointed to a hatch at the far end of the deck. “Come on!” she said, pulling Tom through the smoke and dodging swords and cutlasses.

  In the gloom of the hold, Tom and Isis rummaged through crates and barrels.

  “There’s lots of good things down here,” Tom said, poking at a sack full of pale, sticky crystals. He tasted one. It was sweet. A barrel full of black goo was labelled ‘Molasses’. “Sugar, spice and all things nice,” Tom said.

  “But no amulet,” Isis said, sighing. “Hurry! Let’s check the captain’s quarters.”

  They climbed some stairs, rounded a corner and bam! Tom and Isis ploughed headlong into a sailor who was guarding the door to the captain’s room.

  “Pir
ata!” the sailor cried in Spanish.

  The young man drew his sword.

  “Let’s copy Blackbeard!” Tom whispered. “If we act terrifying enough, hopefully he’ll surrender without a fight.”

  “Aaaaarrr!” Isis cried gleefully. She waved her cutlass in a frenzy.

  Tom let out a deafening roar, held up his cutlass and pulled the scariest face he could think of.

  Sure enough, the guard held up his hands, yelped and dropped his sword to the ground.

  Tom grabbed some rope from a pile of rigging and tied up the man’s hands and feet, using knots that Silas had taught him. Then Tom and Isis pushed open the door grandly marked, “El Capitán.”

  Isis gasped and pointed to a treasure chest that was sitting on top of a fancy table. Embedded in its lid was a glittering blue amulet.

  “There it is!” she said to Tom.

  “Blackbeard’s going to be down here faster than you can say grog,” Tom said, glancing at the door. “Let’s get this chest out of sight so we can work the amulet free.”

  Tom and Isis managed to heave the heavy chest out of the captain’s quarters and behind some rigging. They were just about to dig the amulet out when—

  “Ooowww! Help!” cried a familiar voice.

  Tom peered out from their hiding place. Sprawled on the deck, clutching his leg, was Sal. Blood poured from a nasty-looking gash in his thigh.

  “Sal!” Tom said. “We’ve got to help him,” he told Isis.

  Isis nodded. She covered the treasure chest with a sail. “That should keep it hidden,” she said. “We need to bind his wound.”

  Tom ripped strips of fabric from his gown. “Will this do?” he asked.

  Isis nodded. “It didn’t suit you, anyway,” she chuckled. She started to wrap the cloth tightly round Sal’s leg.

  Sal moaned. “Shiver me timbers, I be in Davy’s grip now,” he said.

  He grabbed Tom’s hand and squeezed it so hard, Tom was fairly certain that his fingers would fall off.

  As Isis tied the makeshift bandage, Tom saw fear in Sal’s eyes. “Don’t worry, you’ll be all right,” he said, then he and Isis helped Sal up to the top deck.

  By now the battle was over. The Spanish sailors were sitting together, bound and gagged on the upper deck.

  “Load that booty on to the Revenge, lads!” Blackbeard shouted to his men.

  As fast as their legs could carry them, the pirates trundled up and down the stairs to the hold. Tom watched them carry barrels of rum, crates full of sugar and spices, and rolls of silk up from the galleon’s hold and over a ramp to Blackbeard’s sloop.

  Pretending to be looting, Tom and Isis went back below deck. The sail was still covering the most valuable thing of all. Please don’t let them find the treasure chest before we can get the amulet out, he thought, crossing his fingers. All we’ve got to do is wiggle it free with a dagger. Then we’ll be home and dry!

  But suddenly the sound of Anubis’s laughter echoed round the galleon.

  “Don’t think it’s going to be that easy, boy!” the god of the Underworld boomed.

  “There must be a treasure chest lurking here somewhere!” Blackbeard shouted to his crew. “Find it!”

  Just then, a blast of wind whipped up on board the Santa Cruz.

  “Anubis!” Tom cried above the howling gust.

  “If he weren’t a god,” Isis cried, “I’d tie his ears in a knot. See how he’d like that!”

  Blackbeard stormed down the stairs. The wind made his long beard flap over his face.

  “What are you two standing idle for?” he shouted at Tom and Isis. “Get looking for the treasure before we’re blown into the sea!”

  As soon as the captain had spoken, the sail covering the treasure chest was picked up by the stiff wind. The treasure chest sat glittering on the deck. Just as quickly as Anubis’s storm had blown up, it died down.

  “Aaaaarrr! Treasure!” Blackbeard said, rubbing his hands. He stomped over to the chest, kneeled down and stroked the amulet. “My favourite thing in the world!”

  Tom groaned. He turned to Isis. “You know what this means, don’t you?” he whispered.

  Isis nodded. “Looks like we’re going to be pirates for a bit longer.” She stroked her now-tattered dress and groaned. “Good job I like biscuits crawling with bugs.”

  With Blackbeard watching his crew’s every move, Tom and Isis helped the pirates load the treasure chest on to the Revenge. They walked along the plank between the pirate ship and the Spanish galleon.

  Blackbeard strutted up and down the Santa Cruz’s deck in front of the bound and gagged Spanish prisoners.

  “As luck would have it, you Spanish rats,” he said. “I’m going to let you go …”

  The prisoners all sighed with relief.

  “… all but one of you,” Blackbeard said.

  The prisoners looked at each other nervously and started to chatter in Spanish.

  “Quiet!” Blackbeard shouted, waving his large silver pistol at them. “Who is the ship’s doctor?”

  A small man with a crooked grey wig raised his hand nervously.

  Blackbeard pointed his pistol at the man. “Right, Señor Medico, you’re coming with me! My own doctor got parrot fever, see? Ended up as fish food. Now the Revenge needs a medical man. So you’ll do nicely! And bring all your supplies, too.”

  “Si,” the Spanish doctor said as Blackbeard cut his bonds with his dagger.

  Blackbeard pointed to Sal, whose bandages were now stained a dark red. “Take this lad to the infirmary,” Blackbeard said.

  The frightened-looking Spanish doctor straightened his wig, gathered his medical bag, and followed Blackbeard on to the Revenge. With the help of some of the pirates, the doctor carried Sal off to the infirmary.

  Blackbeard stroked the lid of the treasure chest. “What you staring at, little shipmate?” he asked Tom.

  “Er … I was admiring your leadership,” Tom said, thinking quickly.

  Blackbeard puffed out his chest and smiled. Then he looked up at the crow’s nest of the Revenge. “Well, you can admire me from above,” he said. “I need to find a good place to ground the ship.” Blackbeard thrust his telescope into Tom’s hand. “Up you both go!” he said, shoving Tom and Isis towards the mast.

  “Anything?” Isis asked, yawning.

  A cool breeze whipped round them as the pair stood in the crow’s nest.

  “I can see a strip of yellow,” Tom said, squinting through the telescope. “It’s definitely an island. Looks like …”

  Isis leaned over the side of the crow’s nest to get a better look. “A spider?”

  “No. I’ll give you a clue,” Tom said. He pinched Isis on the arm.

  “Ouch!” Isis squealed. “What was that for?”

  “It was the clue,” Tom said. “The island looks like a crab!”

  “Oh, yes!” Isis nodded. “Now you say it, it does look a bit crabby. And hang on, there was a crab in the riddle, wasn’t there?”

  “Exactly!” Tom said. “Something about ‘pinching’ the treasure from a crab. I bet that island is where we’re meant to get the amulet!” His heart raced with excitement. “LAND HO!” he cried down to Blackbeard.

  After the Revenge dropped anchor, Tom and Isis climbed down a rope ladder and waded to shore through the warm, shallow water. Tom splashed Isis.

  “Hey!” Isis said. “You’re getting me and Cleo all wet!”

  “Back at the swimming pool you said you loved swimming,” Tom said with a grin. “Now’s your chance!”

  “You’re right,” said Isis. She handed Cleo to Tom. “Look after Cleo while I have a paddle.”

  As Isis dived into the water, a yowling Cleo clung to Tom’s head in terror.

  Hmm, thought Tom, brushing Cleo’s tail out of his eyes. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  While Isis floated on her back, Tom pointed over to the shore. “Hey! Look at Blackbeard!” he said.

  The captain had already pitched a t
ent on Crab Island’s beach under the shade of a palm tree. One-eye Pete and Silas were carrying the treasure chest inside. Blackbeard peered round suspiciously at his crew, then disappeared inside the tent.

  “How are we going to get the amulet now?” Tom groaned.

  There was no time to work out a plan. Tom and Isis were put to work helping Little Jack share out the rum between the pirates.

  “Go on, shipmate!” Little Jack said, thrusting a tankard of rum into Tom’s hand. “You two get your fair share too!”

  Tom remembered how disgusting the grog had tasted in the Jolly Barnacle Inn. “Er, no thanks. I’ll give it a miss.”

  Isis wrinkled her nose. “Me too,” she said.

  “Suit yourself,” Little Jack said. “All the more for me.” And with that, he downed their share in just two gulps.

  With their bellies full of warm rum, the pirates grew merry. One played a fiddle. One pulled out a concertina. One banged on a drum. Soon music filled the air and, as the sun went down, the pirates started to dance and sing shanties. They bellowed:

  “Oh, there once was a scurvy sea dog,

  Who fell into a barrel of grog …”

  “I love dancing!” Isis said, wide-eyed with glee. She grabbed Tom’s hand. “I’m a brilliant musician. Let’s join in!”

  They were just about to dance a jig when Little Jack tapped them on the shoulder. “Not so fast, you two!” he said. “There’s careening to be done. Get a knife and start scraping barnacles off the hull of the Revenge!”

  “But I want to dance!” Isis cried, stamping her foot.

  “Tough,” Little Jack said. “If the Revenge is going to cut through the water quickly, she needs careening. And you two are going to do it.”

  The music and dancing carried on into the night. Tom looked down at the giant heap of barnacles. His hands were sore from scraping them off the ship. Cleo, at least, was happy. She was busy clawing out the sea creatures that lived inside the shells.

  “This is rubbish!” Isis said. She threw her knife on to the sand. “It’s too dark now to see anything.”

  “It could be worse,” Tom said. “Just think about Sal.”