The Valkyrie Series: The First Fleet - (Books 1-3) Look Sharpe!, Ill Wind & Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure

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The Valkyrie Series: The First Fleet - (Books 1-3) Look Sharpe!, Ill Wind & Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure Page 38

by Karen Perkins


  Leo laughed. “Sí, he always told you what he thought, that’s for sure!”

  Then he raised his rumpot in a toast. “Jimmy. He was one of us, and he’ll be missed.”

  “But not his cooking!”

  There was more laughter and everyone drank, repeating, “Jimmy!” I did the same.

  It was all very simple and somehow the laughter was appropriate—Jimmy would have had no patience with sorrow or tears. He had no tolerance in life for fuss; he wouldn’t have appreciated it in death. Somehow, despite, or maybe because of the humor, this was sincere.

  I lost sight of Leo for a moment while everyone was toasting and milling about, topping up their rumpots, and I stood up to look for him. He still hadn’t spoken to me properly since the longboat had come back without Jimmy.

  “Settle down, lass, he’ll come around,” Mr. Gaunt said again. I smiled, knowing I had a friend in him.

  “He always takes a dying hard. Just give him time, lass.”

  I refilled his rumpot and gave it to him, then realized Leo was back. He and Frazer had carried a well-decorated seachest onto deck. Jimmy’s seachest.

  “Now where’s he going?” I whispered to Mr. Gaunt as I watched Leo walk aft again. “What’s he doing?”

  “Cap don’t do this bit,” Mr. Gaunt whispered back. “He never takes none of his crew’s chattels, never has. Mr. Frazer’ll do the honors and Cap’ll come back out when it’s done.”

  I stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about what Mr. Gaunt had said, then asked, “He’s taking this hard isn’t he? I thought he was angry, but it’s more than that.”

  “Aye, he takes loss hard does the Cap, always has for as long as I’ve known him. He lost his family when he were a nipper, then his childhood sweetheart were killt too. He’s never forgot and he feels their loss every time he suffers a new ’un.”

  I looked at Mr. Gaunt again, his weather-beaten leathery face for once not stretched into a smile. He saw a lot with those sun-scorched eyes. I was saved from having to comment by Frazer’s shout for attention.

  “We’ve some business to take care of afore we drink to Jimmy proper, and I’d rather we got it over with. Jimmy didn’t have no family, so there’ll not be an auction, we’ve to share his dunnage ’tween ourselves.”

  “God bless him.” That was Smith. I frowned. I doubted he was sincere.

  “He’d not got much in the way of coin, I’ll wager he’d already shared that with you through the dice.”

  There was laughter.

  “Aye, he never had much fortune at casting the dice.”

  “What you left him we’ll split equally with you all. Clothes and such’ll go in the slopchest, I’ll take his spare leg, then there’s his seachest and his guns. We can’t split them, so they’ll go by vote or draw. Who should ’ave them?”

  “He still owed me some winnings. I’ll take them in lieu.” That was Newton, but his words were greeted with groans.

  “He couldn’t stand you, Newton. He wouldn’t have wanted you to have them.” Frazer was nothing if not direct.

  I looked at Newton. He’d turned bright red and looked like he wanted to strangle someone. I was glad I wasn’t standing nearby.

  “What about Gabriella?”

  I looked up in surprise at the sound of Leo’s voice.

  “She and Klara are the only ones here without either, and she’s probably the only one aboard who looked for his company, even when she wasn’t hungry.” More laughter. “She should take them.”

  I smiled at him, pleased he’d returned and was taking my part, but he didn’t smile back. There was a chorus of “ayes”, and more hate-filled glares from Newton and Smith, but I was getting used to those by now. I stared back until they remembered Leo’s threat and dropped their eyes, and I had a pirate’s chest for my riches, and the weapons to put in it.

  *

  The chest was unlike anything I’d seen before I came to sea, and was much more than a container. He’d made it himself from wood and spare canvas and had decorated it with shell and knotted line. How many endless drifting calms had passed in this enterprise? The handles in particular were works of art, and I couldn’t work out where the complicated round knots started or ended. I loved all the intricate detailing and was proud to own it, even if I didn’t have much to put in it. That would change. I wasn’t going to rely on the generosity of pirates, even Leo, for my possessions and essentials. I needed to earn my own.

  Whilst Mr. Gaunt and Mr. Frazer carried my new chest to my cabin for me, I went to thank Leo for his consideration.

  “It was the only thing that made sense, you’ve nothing to thank me for.”

  “If you don’t want my thanks can I ask for some of your time?”

  “In aid of?”

  “Another shooting lesson.” We’d got on so well last time, I hoped it would ease whatever was wrong now, and things might even finish on a better note.

  “You don’t need another lesson. I’ve shown you how to use a gun. Take yourself off and keep practicing.”

  Then he looked at me for the first time since we’d dropped anchor. He looked as if he would say something else, but instead clenched his jaw and strode from me to the flowing cask of rum punch and the rest of the crew. I went after him and grabbed his arm.

  “What is it? Why are you being like this?”

  Now he looked disgusted. “Jimmy’s been gone less than a day and you want me to play with his guns with you? Have some respect, for the dead at least if not for the living.” His voice rose until he was shouting and I watched him walk away, shocked at his outburst.

  We’d spent the best part of a couple of months together, and his behavior toward me had been exemplary. Even in a place where his word was law and he could do whatever he wanted with or to me and Klara, he’d treated us with respect. Now he was angry, dismissive and rude. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with me? Didn’t he like me after all? But if he didn’t like me, why did he put up with me? Why had he spent so much time with me, patiently teaching me how to live in his world? He’d accepted me onto his crew and given me Jimmy’s chest and guns, so why was he angry with me?

  Chapter 48

  LEO

  22nd May 1686

  La Isla Magdalena

  I missed Jimmy. I missed his moaning and his tempers. I knew he’d done Gabriella and Klara a great service when they came aboard, even if no one would tell me exactly what that had been. If I grieved his loss so much, I’d break if I lost her. I couldn’t risk that, not when near fifty lives besides hers depended on my decisions. I had to have her in my sight so I could protect her, and I cursed her for coming aboard in the first place. This was a dangerous life. Even disregarding the blades and guns, people died. Quickly and without warning, just like Jimmy. What kind of life did she leave behind to feel safer at sea with me?

  “All well, Cap?”

  I turned to see my carpenter, Gaunt, and I nodded in reply.

  “Thee can’t keep a ship at anchor forever or she’ll rot away. Thee needs to let her fill her sails with wind if she’s to live and love.”

  I knew he wasn’t referring to the ship, but I pretended I’d misunderstood.

  “Are we ready to weigh anchor?”

  “Aye, Cap.”

  “Then let’s be off.” I didn’t want his advice on anything but timber.

  I looked up at the sound of the topsails filling; Freedom’s bows swung around, and she crept closer to her anchor. The men heaved the capstan round, pulling in the anchor cable until we were up and down—right on top of it. A louder chant, followed by a sudden speeding up, marked our release from the bottom, and the jibs were sheeted in to windward. Backed against the wind like this they’d work against the topsails and hold us in position for the moment. The anchor broke the surface and was held at the bow. It would stay there until we were well away from the shallows, just in case something went wrong and we needed to drop it in a hurry.

  Despite my best intentions, I sought out
Gabriella. I didn’t want to feast my eyes or feed my heart; I just wanted to make sure she was safe. I had a moment of panic when I couldn’t find her, then spotted her when I looked up to watch the courses (the lowest and largest sails) being loosed. She was up the mainmast leaning over the yard, unfurling with the topmen. When did she start working aloft?

  She looked down at me and, when our eyes met, she flinched backwards and caught herself on one of the hempen gaskets attached to the yard. My expression went from anger to fear and I waved at her, telling her to climb down. Instead she climbed higher, and I noticed she wasn’t using the lubber’s hole by the mast anymore. She got to the platform by clambering out and over the edge where the topmast shrouds anchored the topmast to the lower. This had to stop. I watched her settle herself at the maintop and realized she was staying as lookout. I tried to smile, but didn’t think it was returned. She kept her gaze seaward. I didn’t blame her.

  Chapter 49

  LEO

  18th June 1686

  La Isla Magdalena

  “Sail oh, to the east.”

  I ran to the ratlins with my glass at Gabriella’s shout. One of the benefits of this island was that it was out of the way of the more usual shipping routes—the area was littered with cays, sandbanks and reefs—and ships stayed away. A ship here could only mean trouble.

  I climbed high enough to get a good look. I’d expected her to be hull down—so close to the horizon that I couldn’t see her decks—but she was close, too close. She should have been spotted before this. I recognized Edelweiss. Blake had almost caught us unawares.

  “What the devil are you doing up there, Gabriella?” I shouted. “A lookout needs to do just that, keep a sharp eye out—you could have just killed us all!”

  I looked up into her shocked face and realized I’d gone too far, but if she was going to sail on my crew, she had to do the work well. This wasn’t a game; there were men out there with a very real desire to kill us, and plenty more who’d happily do it for them for the contents of our seachests if they had the opportunity.

  I climbed back down to the decks, shouting orders as I went, “Slip the anchor and get us underway! Gun crews, ready your pieces.”

  I reached Frazer on the quarterdeck and said one word, “Blake.”

  He nodded and looked at the approaching sail, then stood facing into wind.

  “An offing will be difficult, the wind’s swung southerly and we’re now on a lee shore. Blake has the wind with him. Are we standing off west and running?”

  “No,” I replied. “East. If we can sneak between the sandbank and reef we may lure him in and wreck him.”

  “We might wreck ourselves,” Frazer said.

  “True, but I’ve kept charts—as you know well, Frazer. I know they’re a little out of date, but I’m willing to bet the sands haven’t shifted that much. We’ll keep a sharp lookout.”

  He glanced up at Gabriella, who still looked to be sulking in the tops. “Better double it,” he said.

  I wanted to reprimand him, but he was right. The island was constantly exposed to the Atlantic swell and every storm could change the formation of sandbank, cay and island in hours. What I was proposing was dangerous, and I could lose Freedom and the lives of everyone aboard. I couldn’t trust Gabriella’s eyes alone. Staring into sun-sparkled water, looking for subtle changes in color to show us the sandbank, was a tall order for the experienced men; she didn’t know well enough what to look for, and her eyes weren’t used to the glare.

  “Davys, up to the foretop. I need to know the extent of that sandbank ahead.”

  “Aye, Cap,” he said, and leaped into the rigging, swarming up to the platform in seconds.

  Frazer hauled the tiller over as the anchor warp slid into the sea, and we were free. The jibs were already backed against the wind to turn us, but we needed way on immediately to get steerage; the combination of wind and swell would have us on the beach in moments, and Blake was almost in range. Even if we executed the procedure perfectly, we had no room to maneuver. I could very well die a fool in the next few minutes, but this was an opportunity from which I could not, and would not, turn away.

  We were to the southeast of La Isla Magdalena. To the north lay the headland that usually sheltered the anchorage from the prevailing northeasterly winds. To the east the sandbank lay; a hundred yards east of that, a coral reef awaited. Easterly again was Blake, coming fast with the wind. It was likely he didn’t know about the reef. All I had to do was sail Sound of Freedom between the bank and reef to lure him in, circle around the other sandbanks to the north, then my guns could pound away at him at my leisure—but I had to get into position quickly.

  “Set the main-topsail!” I shouted, and men jumped to shake out the massive sail.

  “Are you sure about that?” Frazer asked, and we ducked as the first of Blake’s ball hit Freedom’s decks. “You’re driving us into cannon range, and into treacherous waters.”

  “The whole of the Carib Sea is treacherous,” I replied. “Easy on the helm. Fire starboard cannon!”

  Chapter 50

  A tremendous crunching and splitting of wood had my Freedom Fighters cheering. Blake was aground—his masts falling overboard. We had him. I had him and it had been easy.

  A scream wiped the grin of triumph from my face, and I turned to see Smith clutch his neck as blood gushed down his shirt. A splinter from the newly shattered starboard bulwark had sliced through the side of his neck. Blake wasn’t giving up without a fight, he was still firing on us. Gaunt rushed to help Smith, who had crumpled to the deck, but he soon got back to his feet and walked away. Smith was dead. He could stay where he’d fallen until we were out of this.

  I shouted to my gunners to keep firing, and heard the order relayed down the decks. Frazer steered as best he could; he had no way of hearing instructions shouted down from the tops in that chaos, and was following Davys and Gabriella’s hand signals from the main and foremasts.

  More lead balls pummeled Freedom from Blake’s stricken ship. I hadn’t expected him to carry on firing with his ship in such dire straits, but he appeared willing to sacrifice Edelweiss and the safety of his men to take the opportunity to kill me. There was nothing I could do but sail on and fire back. I had the sandbank to larboard, and Blake and the reef to starboard, with no room to tack or wear round.

  My guns fired again. The gunners were working quickly—they were scared.

  Suddenly I fell forwards onto the deck. Mierda! We’d hit bottom. I shouted at Frazer, screamed at Blackman and Butler to fend us off with boat hooks, and cursed my two lookouts at the top of my voice. Jumping to my feet, I ran to the larboard rail and peered over the side. The gunners had been knocked out of their rhythm, and I could hear Blake’s crew cheer in the sudden silence.

  I held my breath and did my best to ignore their renewed firing—there was nothing I could do about their guns at the moment. Our only hope was to get off this sandbank. If we were firmly aground, both crews were likely dead. I glared up at Davys and Gabriella. What had they been doing? This was their fault. I looked around at my decks. They were a mess. Men, lead, shards of splintered wood and rags of canvas lay in bloodied sand. My beautiful ship looked like kindling.

  “She’s shifting!” Blackman cried. “Ready larboard guns!”

  Men ran across the decks to obey.

  “Fire!”

  The larboard guns fired and Freedom rolled to starboard, then fell free of the sandbank and we sailed on. Blake’s men fell silent.

  I prepared to order my men to harden up and tack so we could finish off Blake, but realized neither ship nor crew was in any state to carry on the fight. I wasn’t even sure I could wear Freedom round safely with all the damage she’d taken. I looked across at Edelweiss. She was stranded and wrecked. I could leave Blake to the wind and tides; he wasn’t going anywhere—the chances were good he’d die here. Yet I still found it extremely difficult to sail away and not make certain of his demise, even though I knew I ha
d no choice. I had to repair Freedom and keep her men safe.

  Chapter 51

  GABRIELLA

  25th July 1686

  Two Leagues West of Gadalupe

  I was the first to sight Papillion heading our way. It was my cry of “Sail oh,” from the maintop platform that alerted Leo and the others. She was my prize, and I was determined to have a hand in taking her. Leo and I had barely spoken in the month since we’d run aground fighting Blake, but whether Leo wanted me or not, I was a member of this crew and it was time to start fighting.

  My attention was divided between the growing sails ahead and the preparations being made below me, and my stomach tied up in knots as I watched them ready the ship for the fight. My shipmates tidied the rigging then cleared the deck to give themselves room to work (anything that wouldn’t be needed in the next couple of hours was taken below, including the chickens and goats that I insisted got some air whenever possible), then I watched them scatter sand on the bare boards to provide grip and soak up spilled blood. The gunners got their powder up, prepared their cannon and put their rammers, spongers, ladles and other equipment within easy reach by the racks holding their shot.

  Once the sharpshooters started to swarm up the rigging, I began my climb down to give my place at the maintop to Juaquim and his muskets. The best marksman aboard Freedom, the Portuguese would pick off the most troublesome of our adversaries should they decide to fight. It was a dangerous job, but at least he wasn’t quite as exposed on the small platform as some of the others, who braced themselves in the rigging itself.

  Once on deck, I headed to my cabin, now occupied by Feliciano and Juan manning the eight-pounder we shared the space with. Klara was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed Jimmy’s guns, powder flask, and supply of shot and wadding—much to the amusement of the two Spaniards—glared at them, then headed back to the quarterdeck; to bump straight into Leo coming out of the chartroom, dressed up in hat, frockcoat, sash and leather boots.

 

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