Chapter 11 – Stealing the Braydon
The sail maker first led them down the beach where they quickly hid their makeshift fishing gear. Then they set about erasing the numerous tracks they had left in the white sand with palm fronds. Nev and Mallen hurried to their tree house and covered the small fire they kept going with sand as Brey and Greer hurried to the village to ensure no signs remained that they had been there. In under an hour they were all gathered on the 'porch' of the dwelling and watched as the schooner made straight for the lagoon.
"Look at the condition she's in!" growled the burly carpenter. "Not a soul among those black-hearted murderers knows a thing about caring for a fine vessel."
The ship did indeed appear the worse for wear. There were several long scars along her port side where she had rubbed against a quay or perhaps another ship. The sails were sloppily stored as the anchor was weighed in the middle of the shallow lagoon. The bellowing voice of the pirate captain could be heard ordering the men to make ready to come ashore for provisions.
"How many do you count?" whispered Mallen, though it was unlikely anyone on board the ship could have heard him.
Brey answered first. "I've counted thirteen so far."
"Me too." Nev added.
Greer grunted and said, "I have fourteen. One was sent below when they dropped anchor."
"All right, fourteen. What do we do then?" asked Mallen.
"I don't see us fighting them all and winning, if that's what you have in mind." snorted the stout man. "Even as good as young Brey and Nev are I doubt we four could take them all. Especially if they leave a few aboard, as they probably will."
As the older men continued their discussion, the taller youth was watching the pirates closely. "Hey, fellows, look at this." He pointed toward the lagoon. The raiders had lowered two boats into the water and ten men were rowing to shore. One man stood at the bow of the lead boat, posing as though he were a lord. "Isn't that the Captain Blunt?"
"May the Creator strike him as we speak; it is!" exclaimed Mallen.
"If I had him alone for just a few minutes…" Greer left the thought hanging, but they understood how he felt. The image of the evil man running through their friend, Report, was still fresh in all their minds.
"Gentlemen," began the lanky teacher, "I think we should have our goods ready for a hasty departure, should we need to move further inland. Quietly though, they are landing just now."
Brey and Nev moved quickly to get their packs together. In a few moments, they returned from the enclosed portion of their dwelling to see the two men crouched down and peering through the palm branches that camouflaged the exterior of the structure. They too crouched down and watched what was happening on the beach. The captain was forming two parties, one to gather fresh water in the casks they brought with them, the same casks the little group of watchers had purchased themselves on the first leg of their journey, and the other to gather fruit and coconuts in woven baskets.
The parties walked past our heroes several times; completely unaware they were being watched. One man even stopped to light his pipe directly beneath them. During that time, one of the boats had returned to the ship and come back with two more small casks; these were not empty. After all the men had returned to the beach, the captain announced that rum was being served. The brigands cheered and each stepped up to get their portion of the liquor. They drank and sang and enjoyed themselves.
As their little party continued, an idea began to form in Brey's mind. "Greer, if they get drunk will they go back to the ship afterward or stay on the island til morning?" he asked quietly.
He grunted and said, "They probably won't be able to row straight if they keep going as they are. Even the lads aboard ship are at it. Look." And true enough, the men aboard the Braydon were hoisting their cups and singing.
"Do you suppose we four could sail the ship out of here in the dark?" he asked.
Mallen looked thunderstruck. "Of course!" he fairly shouted, catching himself before he attracted attention to their tree. "Why hadn't I thought of it? I see no reason we couldn't. It may be a bit difficult, but it's not impossible."
Greer appeared to be deep in thought as the other three looked to him for his thought. "I count ten ashore, so that leaves four aboard. We will have to take care of them quickly and quietly or this lot will have time to row out before we have made ready to sail." He looked back to the ship once again, studying her closely. "They have dropped the sea anchor, so bringing her up will be easier than it normally would. Daft lot these are."
They laid out a simple plan. They would wait until the sailors ashore had drunk themselves silly and after full dark, they would go to the boat they had hidden and row out to the ship. As quietly as possible, they would subdue those men and sail the Braydon out of the lagoon.
As dusk approached, they decided to move themselves to the hidden boat to await full darkness. They scooped up their packs and provisions and climbed down from their hidden shelter. The journey was not overlong, but the need for cover and quiet made for slower going and they arrived at the hiding place as darkness fell. From this vantage point, they still had a view of the beach and could see by the firelight that most of the sailors were passed out or very nearly so.
The ship had only two lanterns hung, but it was easy to see two of the crew lounging on the deck, clearly intoxicated.
"We will give them another hour. Yes?" whispered Greer, "By then they should be far enough gone to make this easy." He looked at Nev and Brey with a hard gaze. "Don't get cocky thinking this will be real easy though, even a drunk man has a bit of fight in him." They nodded their understanding and continued their vigil, watching as the drunken sailors nodded off one by one.
After an hour had passed, they had seen no movement from ship or shore for some time. "Let's get the boat in the water." said Mallen quietly. "Have a care though; we still need to be very quiet." They all positioned themselves around the boat and half-lifted and half-dragged it from the tall grasses to the water's edge. They made one last check of the beach and the ship's deck for movement. Satisfied that no one was about they pushed off and began to row. They had to pause for a few moments as Mallen stuffed some cloth in the oarlocks to quiet them and then continued on. The trip took twenty nerve-wracking minutes; they watched the ship constantly for signs of motion. Though it was dark, the sliver of the moon cast enough light that they could see the ship's full silhouette in addition to the lanterns on deck. They glided quietly to the seaward side of the ship.
After listening closely for a few minutes they climbed up the anchor rope one at a time. Greer went first, followed by Brey then Nev then Mallen. The squat man carefully peeked over the edge of the deck; no one appeared to be awake. He crawled over the edge and squatted low next to the rope locker attached to the deck. Brey came aboard next and crouched next to the older man. Just as Nev was about to pull himself on deck, one of the pirates roused himself near the aft mast and arose. The young man froze, then slowly climbed back down the rope a bit and waited to see what was to happen. The drunken sailor staggered to the landward rail and began to relieve himself, oblivious of the two men crouched on the other side of the deck.
Greer signaled to Brey to stay put as he reached slowly for one of the long wooden pins attached to the forward mast. He slid it from its place and squatted back down. The sailor finished his business and turned to stagger back to his sleeping spot. As he did so, his eyes stopped on the very spot where the two men hid. The inebriated pirate thrust his head forward squinting in their direction, trying to see the strange shadow. He strode toward the rope locker unsteadily, his chin still thrust out before him. When the man was within five feet of them, he was finally able to focus on them and realized they were not of his crew.
"Hey –" he began, but was cut off as Greer sprang forward and struck him on the side of the head with the wooden pin. He crumpled to the deck heavily, out cold. Br
ey held his breath, listening for signs that the drunken man's cries were heard by the others. After a few moments, it was apparent that the alarm had not been raised. The young man reached inside the rope locker to retrieve a length of rope with which to tie the pirate's hands and feet. Greer, meanwhile, waived for Nev and Mallen to come aboard quickly.
In minutes, they had the unconscious man bound and gagged then pushed into the deep shadows beside the locker.
"You two go round that way," whispered Greer, pointing to the starboard side, "we'll go this way. Just rap them on the head with one of these." Held up the two-foot long wooden pin and grinned. "Seems to do the trick nice and quiet."
Nev and Mallen crept along carefully, looking to the shadows to find the other sailors. They came across one man sprawled on the deck, his cup still in his hand. Nev thumped the man on the side of the head; the sound was much more hollow than he had expected. The act of hitting a helpless man made him feel squeamish for some reason; he had fought men with swords and made a showing for himself, but striking an unconscious man just didn't feel quite right. Despite his feelings on it, he and the former schoolteacher quickly tied and gagged the pirate.
Shortly afterward, they heard a muffled noise and then a dull crack as a wooden pin made contact with a skull. The two groups met up at the stern and conferred briefly.
"How many for you?" asked Brey.
"Just one." replied Nev.
"We're missing one." growled Greer.
"We'll have to look below then." said Mallen in a tense whisper. "That will require a lantern and the possibility of being seen."
"We can wait on that til we get out to sea a bit." said Greer
Mallen shook his head. "If someone is down there, they'll be wakened by our raising the anchor. We will be pressed enough as it is outrunning the rowers from shore, once they realize what's happening."
Nev asked, "Couldn't we just cut the rope? I know it's a loss, but getting out of here is more important than the sea anchor just now, isn't it? Besides the main anchor is still there."
The older men looked at each other for a moment. "It's a loss sure enough, but you're right, Nev, getting out of here is more important." said Greer quietly. "I say, lets do it."
Mallen and Brey nodded their agreement. "All right then. Nev, can you and my skinny friend here get the ship about and some sails hoisted? Brey, you go cut the rope as soon as they are ready with the sail, but keep down so as not to be seen from the beach." They nodded. "I will see if I can find the last of them below so we can be on our way." They all set to their respective tasks, moving quickly and quietly.
Brey crept forward along the seaward side, stationed himself next to the line securing the anchor, and waited for a signal. Behind him, he could hear the rustling of the forward mainsail as his chum and Mallen made ready to hoist her. He could hear the whispered conversation between them as well.
"Will the breeze be strong enough to move us about?" asked Nev. "Wouldn't a flying sail work better?"
"On most ships, that might be true, but these sails are not ordinary. Believe me, if there is even a breath of breeze, these sails will catch and hold it. Just watch and see, my boy. I have this ready to hoist, you will need to be able to run to the tiller quickly; can you do it?"
"No problem, I can get there fast enough. Ready?"
"Ready. Brey!" Mallen whispered loudly, "Cut it now."
Brey set his knife to the rope and cut through in two strokes, he heard a small splash a moment later as the end of the rope fell into the warm water of the lagoon. He then moved to help Mallen raise the sail as Nev hurried to the helm. The sail was raised slower than it normally would, so as to reduce the booming noise sails often make once they catch the wind. The canvas rustled loudly and made a 'whoom' noise as the material caught and held the breeze blowing across the small harbor. Nev had taken the wheel and turned the ship toward the sea, tacking slightly to get the most out of the wind.
The rigging began to creak loudly as it is prone to do when getting underway. The noise was enough to awaken at least one sailor ashore and he sounded the alarm that the ship had broken from its anchor. The captain could be easily heard yelling that sails don't raise themselves; the ship was being stolen! He ordered his men into the boats to catch the ship before she could get out to sea.
Nev was keeping close watch on the men on shore; the Braydon was not making any real speed yet and the danger of being caught was still very real. He glanced back to the deck to see his friends making ready to hoist another sail. If they could get up even one more large sail, they would make it out of the harbor, provided the wind kept blowing. His pulse raced and he could feel his hands sweating on the wheel as he squeezed it harder, willing the wind to blow and move them further away.
The pirate captain had gotten most of the men up and both of the boats were now in the water rowing toward them with as much speed as they could muster, which looked to be enough to catch them if they couldn't get another sail aloft.
Greer came back on deck with a smaller man behind him, the darkness made it impossible for Nev to see who it was. The stocky sailor seemed not at all concerned to be followed by this other man. He went immediately to the stern and uncovered the small deck gun there. In moments, he and the other man had loaded it and made ready to fire. "This'll make 'em think twice!" he cried as he put flame to the gun and fired at the lead boat rowing toward them.
The shot was just a bit short, but close enough to send spray over those in the rowboat, causing them to pause in their rowing. Nev realized in that moment they might just make it; if the pursuers could be delayed long enough for the ship to make way, they could actually pull this off! The squat carpenter and the small stranger loaded the gun again and fired another shot at the lead boat. Once again, the rowers stopped to take cover and lost even more distance. Blunt was screaming at the top of his lungs for them to keep rowing or they would be 'marooned on this bloody patch of sand in the middle of the ocean'.
The two began loading the deck gun a third time and Nev was finally able to get a glimpse of the other person there. It was Micah, the cabin boy! How he came to be here had to remain a mystery a little longer as the pursuers were making a final push to catch the fleeing schooner.
The deck gun shouted out one more time, this time producing the satisfying crunch of wood being demolished. Nev looked back in time to see a rowboat sinking rapidly with a large hole in the bow. The sailors on board were jumping out and beginning to swim back toward the beach. The rowers in the lead boat had stopped stroking and sat watching as the Braydon pulled away from them. Captain Blunt stood at the bow of the little craft swearing a blue streak and shaking his fist.
Greer then roused the three prisoners and made them jump overboard to swim back to the island. He and Micah pulled in the rowboat's line and made it more secure until it could be pulled aboard properly later.
The ship now had three sails up and a fourth was being raised as they began picking up speed. Nev steered as close to due south as he could reckon and tied the wheel off. He turned and rushed to Greer and Micah, clapping the burly sailor on the back and then picking up the young cabin boy in a bear hug,
"Micah! I thought you had been killed with the rest. How did you come to be here?" asked Nev excitedly. Brey and Mallen came up behind him and were equally shocked at the sight of the boy who had served as cabin boy and surrogate younger brother to all aboard.
Once everyone had asked the same questions Nev had, the lad was able to get in a word edgewise. "The captain had ordered me to go with you when you left the ship, but I hid so I could help defend the ship." He lowered his head and slumped somewhat at the memory of that fearsome battle. "I should have did as the Cap’n ordered; I didn't know what it was like. Once the fightin' started, I just hid again like a scared rabbit, once you was ready to shove off, I had covered my ears and din't hear you were ready to drop the boat." He sat down heavily an
d tears of shame flowed over his smooth cheeks.
Mallen sat down next to the boy and draped an arm over his slim shoulders. "You know, I think the captain would have been quite proud of your loyalty, lad. It's admirable to want to defend your ship and your captain. Of course, following orders also has its place." He finished with a grin. "We're just glad you are alive and well."
Greer squatted down in front of the boy, reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder and said, "Micah lad, were you hiding this whole time? Or did the pirate scum make you work for them?"
The boy lifted his gaze and looked just beyond the carpenter's head. "At first I hid, sir," his tale began, "after a few days I was caught. They dragged me up to the mate since the cap’n, the pirate cap’n that is, wasn't on board the Braydon yet." Micah took a deep breath and continued with a more forced tone. "They were just going to throw me overboard, but the mate decided I should stay on as the cook. He asked me if I could be trusted to make their food. I said no, then he did – things to me to make sure I wouldn't do anything to the food."
The young mate took a sharp breath and fought back his tears. He described a series of sadistic tests and tortures used to make him succumb to their will and do as he was told. By the end of the story, the young man had broken down and cried openly. For several minutes no one spoke. The acts he described were both humiliating and horrible in nature, and each of the men present felt their blood rise at the idea of abusing a young lad that way.
Brey stood and stared out to sea for a moment and declared. "Micah, should we ever get the chance, we will make those scum pay for the way they treated you. I promise that." He looked down to see the young man looking at him with a mixture of pride and gratitude.
"Thanks, Brey. You're a real mate." was his grateful reply.
Nev was able to get a reading on the stars to ascertain an approximate position. He figured they could make the Beltline in less than a day and head for home. They sailed the remainder of the night and much of the next day; they were able to turn east before sundown and set a course due east. After six sleepless days, they sighted sails on the horizon nearly dead ahead. It was decided to get close enough for a look at the flag she flew and try to run if need be. With the winds blowing mostly from the west southwest, they had a good chance of making great distance on a pursuer.
Brey had the duty of watching the approaching ship carefully. Mallen told him what to look for in the set of the sails and the colors likely to be flying if it was a pirate ship. As he watched through the glass, the distant ship took shape slowly. She was a large ship, much larger than the Braydon. She was a tall, three-master who had intricate rigging and flew at least twelve sails. The sail maker had not described anything like this when pointing out the details that tell a raider ship. He decided to get the older man's opinion on the ship he saw.
Mallen looked through the glass for several moments before heaving a great sigh. "That, my young friend, is a Ship-of-the-Line; she is a ship of the Royal Navy!" he cried. "Nev! Bear straight on the ship ahead! She is our salvation!" He ran to the aft locker, removed the trader's colors as well as the flag of Merridon, and ran them to the top of the foremast.
Within two hours, the Navy ship, the King Roland, had pulled alongside having ordered the smaller ship to drop sails and have all hands on deck. They were boarded and the ship searched before the senior captain of the Naval vessel came aboard to hear a report of the Braydon.
"Stand to! Senior Captain Posen on deck!" cried a yeoman. An imposing-looking figure transferred himself from the larger ship. He was dressed in a uniform of dark blue trimmed in gold. The shoulder epaulettes were white trimmed in gold braid with a gold fringe. His belt and boots were highly polished black and his shirt was a crisp white with a ruffle at the cuffs. All in all, he cut an impressive figure, despite being a very short man.
Greer, being a former navy man himself, recognized the individual. "Posen? Lucien Posen of Groden by way of Rollick?"
The captain looked more closely at the squat man. "That's Senior Captain Posen. Name yourself, Trader." he responded haughtily.
Greer began laughing; he laughed so hard, he couldn't speak for a few moments. "How rich this is!" gasped the carpenter. "And a Senior Captain at that! How in the name of the Creator did you get to be a Senior Captain in less than fifteen years?"
The Captain had begun to turn red while the stocky man had been laughing; suddenly his eyes widened in recognition. "Well, I'll be a green hand! Galen! Galen Greer! How rich indeed!" Now he too began to laugh. "You are quite the last person I would have expected to come across limping along in the middle of the Western; and on a two-master at that!" he said, the haughty expression returning to his red face.
Both groups stood watching this odd reunion. Clearly, these two men knew each other, and just as clearly, it was not necessarily a meeting of old friends.
Greer turned to his friends and said, "Lucien and I were middies together back in the bad old days. Many a battle we saw when there was still a bit of fighting to be done. So," he continued, turning back to the Captain. "How is it you have come so far so fast? When I left the service, we were still lowly lieutenants."
"Loyalty to the Crown is rewarded." he practically purred.
"And having a Lord for an uncle can't hurt much either." replied the trader with a tight grin.
"My career has progressed under its own wind." He shot back hotly. "Now, where is the remainder of your crew? A ship of this size clearly requires more than just you five."
Seeing that the enmity between the Captain and Greer was not going to get them anywhere, Mallen stepped forward and briefly related what happened to them from the pirate attack to the stealing of the Braydon. "I know this is something of an imposition, Captain, but could you spare a few hands to aid in our safely sailing back to Groden? We-"
Posen put his hand up, ending Mallen's request. "Seeing that your ship is not in any imminent danger, I am under no obligation to provide you assistance. You seem to have gotten this far just fine." He glared at Greer. "You will get no help from me."
As the captain turned to leave, Nev stepped forward. "Excuse me, Captain. You are required to lend aid to military men in distress, right?"
Posen turned slowly, a look of disdain on his face. "Senior Captain. And Lieutenant Greer," he fairly spat, "has not been in the Navy for a great many years and no longer enjoys such a privilege." He once again began to turn to leave the ship.
"Actually sir, I was talking about myself and my friend, Brey. We are sergeants in the Queen's Regiment." replied Nev. The young man whispered to Micah and sent him below.
Posen turned and looked at the young men and burst out laughing. "You should have used the old man for your little lie, boy. That, at least, would have been plausible." Posen stepped over the stand in front of Nev. "I will have you know that impersonating a soldier of the Crown is an offense punishable by flogging. Have you ever been flogged, boy?" he growled, leaning forward to glare into the young man's eyes.
"It doesn't pay to assume things, Lucien." Greer burst out laughing, followed shortly by Mallen, as it dawned on him what was about to happen. Nev and Brey were such unprepossessing young men, it was easy to forget how much they had been through and accomplished in such a short time.
Micah ran up to Brey and handed him the scrolls he had sent him for. "Captain, here are our papers." said Brey holding the scrolls out for him to inspect, "They are signed by the Queen herself."
Posen looked at the scrolls and snatched them from him. He chuckled and shook his head as he opened the first parchment. "Forging the Queen's mark is punishable by death. You should have stuck with lying –" The remainder of his thought trailed off as he read the document in his hand. He unrolled the other and read it as well. While he may not have been familiar with the Queens signature, he certainly knew the flowing hand of her Chamberlain's well enough. He slowly rolled both s
crolls and handed them back.
Senior Captain Posen cleared his throat before speaking. "It seems I have indeed been caught by my own hastiness. Given your appearance, I am sure you will agree my assumption was not unwarranted."
Brey retrieved the documents from Posen and handed them to Micah. "I guess that's so." he replied.
Greer stepped up and clapped a hand on the officer's shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, Lucien, we can make the loan of a few men worth your while. How would you like to give your career a little boost?"
Posen looked at him suspiciously, shrugging the big paw off his slender shoulder. "What do you mean?"
Greer filled in the remainder of the tale begun by Mallen regarding their plight since being attacked by the pirates. "So you see, Lucien," he said in conclusion, "we left Captain Blunt and an odd dozen of his cohorts marooned. You could become quite notorious yourself if you could bring in the worst pirate on the Western, wouldn't you agree?"
Posen's eyes took on a very greedy cast once Captain Blunt's name had been mentioned. As a political climber who has advanced his career as much by relation as by service, he knew a good opportunity when he heard one. "I will, of course need as many hands as possible to make the arrest. Can you get by with only - six additional crew for your return?"
"That will do quite nicely, Captain. Thank you." replied Mallen with a smile.
The officer was so preoccupied with thoughts of capturing a famous pirate he forgot to correct the man about his rank. "Good. Now, where are they marooned?"
"Kulu. The big island, lagoon on the southern shore."
"Well, then; thank you for reporting this and good luck on your journey, gentleman. We must get moving to arrest the criminals." Posen didn't even wait for help returning to his own ship, he leapt from the rail of the Braydon to the Roland and pulled himself over the rail, barking orders. Six men were quickly reassigned to the Braydon and the ship made ready to sail as soon as possible. In twenty minutes, the Roland was raising sail and heading west.
The squad of sailors assigned to help them was mostly young hands with a midshipman as the squad leader. As Navy hands, they would be trained and wouldn't require much supervision. The small crew of the Braydon felt immediate relief.
The young officer stepped forward and introduced himself and his squad. "I'm middie Cathrup. My men and I are at your service. What would you like us to do, sir?"
"Well, I imagine that you and your men would like to get your things stowed first, so why don't you do that and return. We should be ready to set sail by then." replied Mallen.
The small crew made ready to raise sail and continue their voyage home. Presently, the seamen were back for orders.
Mallen turned to Nev and said, "Well, my friend, you have gotten us this far, will you give the order to get us under way?"
The young man beamed at the sail maker and said, "I sure will!" He turned to the sailors standing around him on deck and assigned tasks to them. Soon the sails were raised and the Braydon was once again slicing through the waves. Brey and Mallen took time to get some sleep as none of them had gotten more than a couple of hours since leaving the Kulu Islands. Nev and Greer followed suit not long after, leaving the midshipman in charge of the ship.
Friends of the Crown - Book 1 of Heroes of the Realm Page 11