The crew performed the tack marvelously, allowing the Teresa to escape disaster. The lightning storm was beginning to pass, only a few flashes appeared from time to time now; the darkness so black it was as if it was ink. Suddenly, a menacing roar reached the captain’s ear.
“Look off the bow!” he thundered, his voice booming over the wind and waves.
“Reefs!” yelled another voice.
Though it was inky black and the wind howled about them, the roar of waves braking was unmistakable. There could be no doubt. The captain could see a pile of rocks with every lightning flash and they were only a hundred feet away from his ship.
“Get ready to tack!” he cried.
Horace gathered his wits and pulled with all his weakened strength on the wheel. Almost simultaneously, the ship struck something and slowed down before it picked up speed again. Despite the danger, the crew managed to maintain their composure and perform the required manoeuvre. The Teresa came about and tacked, escaping from perilous waters a second time.
“Cast the sounding line” shouted Jack
Immediately it was cast and measured a depth of ten fathoms off the bow. A good depth and it should get deeper, but they would still need a lookout. At four in the morning, the sky began to clear in the east. The sun rose rapidly; its arrival heralded by a magnificent red and golden sky.
Chapter 6
“We’re taking on some water, Cap’ain” reported Alby. “We must have holed her when we hit the reef last night.”
“How bad is it?” he enquired.
“It’s just a seep at the moment, but we’re gonna have to take a look” he said.
“The only place that’s suitable for a beaching around this area is Pualu Nukaha. That’s right in the heart of pirate territory. Do you think we can go on for a few more days?” he asked, but already knowing his answer.
“It might not last and we don’t want to go down in the open ocean” he mentioned.
“Well, it’s settled then. Keep your eye on the damaged hull and report back to me if it gets worse” he stressed.
“Aye Cap’ain” he said as he left.
Captain Thomas confirmed their position then consulted his charts with his First Mate, before he and Jack climbed up to Horace on the helm.
“We’re taking on some water, but it’s not too bad yet. We’re going to have to beach her on the western side of Nukaha Island There are no reported reefs there and we will be protected from the elements. Set a course for fifteen degrees, Horrie, and keep a good lookout, Jack” he said grimly. “Our destination is 55 nautical miles away.”
“We haven’t reached the new moon yet. If we beach the Teresa we will be stuck there for at least three days, until we can get off on the next higher tide” he stressed to the captain.
“I’ve considered all this, but it’s better than going down in the middle of the ocean. We’ve got everything to repair her on board, so we just need a little luck and then we’ll be back on our way” he said, leaving Jack up there with Horrie.
“We’re only doing about three knots and there’s a slight current against us, but we should still make it for the high tide later this afternoon” suggested Jack.
Captain Thomas paused when he saw Michael swabbing the decks, so he approached him.
“It looks like you’re going to get your wish, m’lad. The Teresa’s been holed, so we have to stop off at an island and repair her” he said solemnly.
“What about Vijendra, the pirate?” Michael asked, becoming worried.
“We’re going to have to take our chances and hope he doesn’t find us, because we’re going to be like a beached whale; totally helpless” he admitted before he walked away.
The seas were calm again after the violent storm, but an hour later Michael overheard two sailors talking about the notorious pirate.
“He’s around here, I tell you. Eight months ago, he attacked the Offspray, but she just barely escaped after a grueling battle” mentioned a sailor, who had fought against the bloody pirate once before.
“Look, Captain! Look over there!” shouted the lookout from the crow’s nest.
“Vijendra!” yelled another voice from the helm.
The captain cast his eyes aft and back the way they had come and sighted a large three mast schooner rounding the cape, just five miles astern of them.
It looked Light and built for speed, their large sails filled with wind. The captain immediately recognized the schooner for what they were: pirates! He quickly informed the crew of the new danger; which they had no hope of outrunning. Unfortunately, the Teresa carried very little arms; it was not well stocked. There weren’t any cannons, and although they carried enough muskets to arm the crew, most hadn’t been used in years. There were, however, several swords and a number of axes as well. The captain and the crew armed themselves as best they could, but they knew the weapons they had wouldn’t be enough. The Portuguese flag fluttered majestically on the stern. They would have to fight to the death. Vijendra’s schooner continued to advance rapidly, because it was much faster in the light breeze.
The schooner wasn’t any more than a mile away now, so everyone but the two women, prepared to attack their foe with all their might. The sun was high in the sky and it was clear there were a great number of them to contend with. As they came closer, about six hundred feet, the legion of well-built men, naked to the waist and drawn from the various Asian and Chinese-Asian tribes waved their weapons menacingly. Their shiny muskets, sabres and swords, along with their ferocious war cries, sent chilling reminders to one and all. A cannon blast thundered from Mabuhay and its ball smashed into the side of The Teresa, splinters flying everywhere.
“Just wait for them to come aboard, men,” thundered Captain Thomas. “Just wait, so we can save our lead!”
Ferocious cries of excitement emanated from those aboard the Mabuhay; the pirates had begun their attack. Another cannon blast thundered, smashing into a mast and felling it. When the Mabuhay came within one hundred feet, Captain Thomas shouted “Fire!”
Several pirates collapsed lifelessly on the deck as the Teresa unleashed all the firepower they had. The pirates retaliated and, in less than an instant, four of the Teresa’s crew lay lifelessly on deck. The severed foremast had already killed two of the crew. Out of the original fourteen crew only nine were left, if Michael counted the death of Mad Wayne. Retaliation was nearly impossible, but some of the remaining sailors emptied their muskets and fled towards starboard, attempting to jump into the sea. Many had been hit and cries of agony filled the air as blood poured from their wounds. Captain Thomas and two other men immediately rushed to stop the intruders from boarding, but a volley of musket fire stopped all three in their tracks and they fell lifelessly to the deck. Martha rushed to her husband’s body, crying. Quickly she scooped up two muskets, reloaded them and fired at the intruders, killing one. She too fell under a hail of lead as the pirates retaliated.
A terrible cry filled the air as Michael stood there with his dagger, “Hurrah for Vijendra!”
The pirates began to board, grabbing onto the bulwarks, side stays and ratlines. Michael was the only person remained alive, standing on the deck and he was only armed with a small dagger. Michael stood there defending himself with the courage of a tiger, striking out in all directions at the volley of men surrounding him.
He heard one man cry with agony as his dagger sliced through the pirate’s jugular vein. The remaining four men raised their sabers, ready to cut Michael to ribbons.
“Stop!” thundered a voice. “That boy acts like a warrior.”
The man that had shouted those life-saving words appeared to be about forty years of age. He was tall, with skin lightly tanned by the sun, long blond hair, and light blue eyes. A light brown beard covered his face. He gestured to his men to make way for him and then he advanced towards Michael. He looked him over for several minutes, carefully taking in every detail.
“So, what are you going to say?” he asked.
“Surprised to be alive?” he asked.
“I don’t know how or why I’m still standing here.” Michael replied truthfully. “Why did you spare me, Vijendra?”
“Because you fight like a warrior, and, I admire warriors.” He said simply.
“I have an offer for you; care to join us young warrior?” he asked.
“You…You want me to become a pirate?” Michael asked, very surprised.
“Yes! You really don’t have much choice in the matter” he said.
“Leave me alone you mongrels” a woman shouted.
“What about this woman? She’s really feisty” someone asked, laughing.
“Bring her along as well. The crew will be very happy to play with her” he suggested.
“I’ll die first before I become your concubine” she spat.
“Well that can be arranged” he suggested smugly.
“Constance is a great cook” Michael butted in.
“A great cook! That’s something we don’t have” he said. “Bring them both with us. I want the rest of you to ransack this vessel and burn it to the waterline” he ordered, walking away.
Chapter 7
Michael watched with horror as the Teresa burnt to the waterline, before sinking. Constance had already been taken below, while most of the men drank some of their allocated bounty of rum before the schooner sailed away. Captain Vijendra had been given all the bounty of gold and jewels which was, by now, locked safely away in his treasure chest. The crew was allowed to keep any other valuables for themselves. Michael was delegated to his usual chore of swabbing the decks so, during his work he listened to their idle chatter and merriment. The captain’s last words to him had sunk deep to his sole as he remembered them “Try and escape and I will kill you.” There was no way he would try and escape; where would he go?
The anchor was lowered, just on sunset, in a bay not far from where everybody died. Constance was bone-tired from cooking for sixty hungry men and fending off their playful bum slaps and touches. The two of them were each given a bowl of gruel and some stale bread and they were asked to eat in a storeroom.
“What’s going to become of us, Michael?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.
After dinner the men drank more rum while some others sucked on long pipes on the deck, while the two of us had to clean up the galley. “Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire” he thought sadly. Later that night the two of them were locked up in the storeroom to sleep, so Michael began thinking about Sally and how lucky she was to have escaped this living hell.
* * *
Vijendra loved the chase, but it was the kill that gave him the most satisfaction. He had been in the British Secret Service and had quickly developed a reputation for being fearless, ruthless and most of all, intelligent. His mild mannered ways made people trust him, but he could kill someone as quick as a flash. He set his mind at becoming close friends with the lovely Constance, but she was from a different world to him and it would take time for her to change. Up to now all of his women had been whores, who followed his band of pirates. Some of the women were extremely pretty and, attracted by his strength and looks, had genuinely fallen in love with him. His actual name was Francis James Scott; no wonder he changed his name – who would like the name Francis? Vijendra sounded exotic and gave him the feeling of strength, but everyone called him the White Ghost.
* * *
The schooner sailed all the next day and a night until finally the Mabuhay lowered its anchor in a very secluded bay in the early hours of the morning.
“Welcome to Avilla” he said to the two of them when they were up on deck. “It’s time to go ashore. Please remember – you cannot escape, but if you try you will be killed. You, Michael, will stay with Dayang until I find you somewhere to work. Meanwhile Constance will accompany me to the monastery on the hill, because that’s where you’ll stay.”
The two of them went ashore with the rest of the crew and followed Dayang up the beach, before walking into town. He and most of the crew lived a little out of the main town area.
Pricilla was awakened, just before dawn, by the crew’s joyous chatter and the noise of the hand-barrows rolling over the cobble stones as they passed the tavern. She hurriedly rose and peered out the window; Vijendra and his crew had returned! She failed to notice the woman by his side and she returned to the bed to sleep again; it was going to be a long day and she would rise with the church bells. She began to dream about a life one day with the White Ghost.
The distant sounds of the church bells, high on Mount Wuriali, woke her up at 8am, so she jumped out of bed to view her naked body. She was sixteen years old today and the daughter of Angelo Ricardo, the owner of the largest tavern in Avilla. Pricilla thought she was beautiful as she studied her reflection in the mirror. It reflected the image of a young woman with creamy blemish-free skin, round firm breasts, a narrow waist and hips that moved with a sensual promise. She was still a virgin and she was saving herself for Vijendra, but he hardly knew she existed. She managed to run into him as often as possible and he was always polite, but that was it. Today would be different, because today she would sleep with him – Her birthday present.
* * *
“We’ll pass by my estate, so I’ll show you around there first” he said as the pirate and Constance climbed on the seat of a horse-drawn buggy.
Vijendra’s’s treasure chest was securely tied in the back by two of his men before he set off on the cobble stones and then onto a dirt road. The Oak tree lined entrance to his property was lovely and the trees enhanced the rambling white-fenced meadows. Flowering shrubs fronted the heavily-wooded, surrounding forest where the oldest trees stood gnarled, like old men twisted with rheumatism and age. Everything glistened with heavy dew like rain, but the dawn hinted at a clear morning blue sky. Vijendra’s home stood proudly in a small valley, nestled between two steep mountains. A fast flowing stream flowed down from the high forest then down through the middle of the meadows. The buggy stopped in front of the two story white-washed home before he helped her down and together they walked up to the front door.
“It’s so nice to see you home safely, Mister Vijendra” commented the plump dark-skinned woman who opened the door before he knocked. “I see you have brought a visitor with you.”
“Yes, Lucretia. We’re on our way to the monastery; Constance is staying there for a while. Could you prepare a couple of cocktails for us? Also have George and Albert carry my chest up to my room” he asked.
Thirty years old, Constance Kane, sat in haughty silence across the other side of the room. Her long dark honey-brown hair framed her face, enhancing her pale blue eyes. She sipped daintily on her Jamaican rum and fruit juice cocktail as she fought down the impulse to tell him exactly what she thought.
“What’s wrong?” he enquired.
“Oh, nothing really. It’s just that…well, I’ve only just met you and I find myself alone in your company…” she said, leaving her words hanging.
“I am not going to touch you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just showing you my home; a place you can stay if you get sick of the nuns” he suggested wickedly.
She felt a flood of relief when he stayed in his chair and just smiled at her. “He is good looking” she thought. She felt an overwhelming sense of shame and guilt, so she pushed the thought from her mind. “He’s a blood-thirsty pirate; someone I don’t want to get too close to” she thought, but she couldn’t deny the tingling between her thighs.
“I brought you here so you can have a bath and change your clothes. I’m not the monster you think I am” he said softly.
He rang a small bell to call his maid. “Lucretia, escort Miss Constance to the bathroom and can you prepare a bath for her and some clothes as well? I will take her to the monastery this morning.”
“It will be my pleasure, Sir. Come this way Miss Constance” she said wal
king away.
He watched Constance’s shapely form as she followed his maid and out to the rear bathroom. “She will eventually come to love me” he thought. “And the nuns will help me.”
* * *
As Michael wheeled dayang’s hand-barrow beside him he noted that Dayang was a tall, heavily-built man, and, even though he had brown skin, he was still deeply tanned to an almost black colouring from years in the sun. His pigtail hung well down the back of his soiled brown shirt, keeping his long graying hair in place. Forty years of hard work had left his hands ragged and scarred.
“I’m a plain man; I don’t have much and I don’t need much. There’s room at the back for you. It’s nothing fancy, just plain and simple” he mentioned, almost apologetically.
Michael found out that he was the only crew member who understood and spoke English well, which was why Vijendra asked him to take him in for a while.
The room only had one window, but some light filtered through the filth plastered over the glass. It was a small room, only about 10 feet by 7 feet, with a single bunk, a wooden box up-turned with a candle, matches, a round dish and a jug on it and 3 wooden boxes on their side; probably used store clothes. It definitely wasn’t fancy! There wasn’t even a pillow on the bed; just a rough blanket. Michael didn’t have any other clothes, so he picked up the dish and looked through the cottage, before walking outside. He found a water pump around the back, so he filled up the dish, stripped off his clothes down to his underpants and began to wash them with a bar of soap he found. Dayang was nowhere in sight, so Michael assumed he had gone somewhere, leaving him all alone. Once his clothes were clean he hung them on a bush to dry in the hot morning sun, before walking back to his room. He lay down on the bed and used the rolled-up blanket for a pillow. “What is going to become of me?” he thought before falling asleep. Michael dreamed of being in the sea, surrounded by burning bits of timber, before he woke up suddenly in a cold sweat. “I’m probably never going to forget the Teresa burning and sinking!”
Slave Of Destiny Page 5