Skull and Bones (47 page)

    "Aye!"

    "But neither side has the advantage?"

    "No."

    "Good!" said Flint. "Here -" he held out a silver dollar.

    "Thank you right kindly, Cap'n, sir!"

    "Now, join your fellows!" said Flint, and Lazy Joe got up. As soon as he'd gone, Flint turned to Jimmy Chester. "This is excellent!" he said.

    "Is it?" said Chester, plainly terrified.

    "Aye," said Billy Bones.

    "Aye," said Black Dog, but…

    B-b-b-bang! went a whole volley of musketry outside.

    "Uhhhhhh!" cried the malodorous ensemble, jumping to their feet.

    "SIT DOWN!" roared Flint. "Or you'll bring them in among us!"

    Silence. The room sat down.

    "Good!" said Flint, and went back to his whispering: "Jimmy, we've done well! There's hundreds of them out there: redcoats and whitecoats, bogged down, each side afraid to advance in the dark - leaving room for us to manoeuvre. And meanwhile the dull and the slow of Savannah have run to the fort!"

    "Where I should've gone," wept Chester, wringing his hands.

    "And lose your share of eight hundred thousand?" said Flint.

    "Mhhhh…" said Chester, whimpering like a child. He clutched at Flint's sleeve. "I can't do this," he whispered. "I'm a merchant, not a pirate!" And he groaned so loud that the room began to groan in company.

    "Bah!" said Flint, losing patience. "Mr Bones!"

    "Cap'n?"

    "Take this swab and lock him in his cellar. And if he squeaks you may silence him by any means you please!"

    "Ohhhhh…" said Chester as Billy Bones loomed over him in the candlelight and, seizing him by the collar, dragged him away. "Ohhhhh…"

    Then
clump
went Billy's fist and all was peaceful except for a limp slithering, and Billy Bones's puffing and blowing, which faded as he left the room.

    Flint stood up to speak.

    "Now my roaring boys!" he said, turning on his tremendous charm. "Who's for a share of the greatest treasure - in gold, dollars and diamonds - that ever was brought together in one place?"

    "Ah!" they said, and the mood in the room went up like a rocket that burst in joy, and Flint had them in his hands from that instant, and he gave them their orders and divided them into teams, each to separate duties. "There
will
be fighting," he said, "but such merry fellows as yourselves think nought of that!" And they grinned back at him, dazzled by Flint and dazzled by treasure, in their broken-nosed, foetid, animal squalor.

    Huh!
thought Flint.
You'll fight, my little weevils… sufficient for the purpose!

    And soon, led by Flint, the whole crowd of them left the grog shop and made their way towards the river…

    "How long have they been gone?" said Selena.

    "Over an hour, by the sandglass," said Cowdray.

    The two peered out into the dark of dark of the river, with all those left aboard
Walrus,
mustered under Mr Warrington, to guard the ship while her captain was away. The only light in the ship came from a few dim lanterns placed so that men shouldn't go arse-over-tit; for down here on the river bed Blind Pew was as good as any other man, it being so dark what with the river's deep banks blocking out the moon and stars, that a blind man's sharp ears were better than eyes.

    "Lis-ten!" he cried. "Something's com-ing!" And he cocked his head to one side, and stood with his green eye-shade and his corpse face, and a boat cloak wrapped round him, who always felt the cold of the night, such that men shuddered at the weird figure that he made. But he was right.

    "Aye!" cried Warrington. "Stand by, all hands!"

    "Aye-aye!" they cried.

    "A boat," said Selena.

    "Where is it, Mr Pew?" said Cowdray.

    "There -" said Pew, thrusting out a bony finger.

    Everyone looked.

    "Fine on the larboard bow," said Warrington.

Clunk-clank!
Clunk
-clank!
came the distant sound of oars against pins.

    Then they gasped as a light shone: a lantern waving in the dark, dimly revealing the outline of a man standing in the bows of an oncoming boat.

"Walrus
ahoy!" cried a voice, and the oar-beat sounded louder.

    "I know that voice," said Selena.

"Walrus
ahoy!"

    "Boat ahoy!" cried Warrington. "Who comes?"

    "It's Billy Bones!" said Selena. "That's his voice!"

    "Is that you, Mr Bones?" cried Warrington.

    "Aye-aye! 'Tis William Bones, Cap'n, sir, aksing to come aboard."

    Selena seized Warrington's arm, and shook it. "Where's Flint?" she said. "Billy Bones went off together with Flint!"

    "He's Flint's man to death and beyond," said Cowdray.

    "Aye," said the crew.

    "Make ready, lads," said Warrington. "Be wary!"

    Click-click-click-click! said the firelocks.

    "Who's aboard, Mr Bones?"

    "Myself, Black Dog, and the boatmen."

Clunk
-clank! Clunk-clank!
Clunk
-clank!

    "Where's Flint? Is he aboard?"

    "Cap'n Flint, God bless him… is dead!"

    All aboard
Walrus
gasped and stared down at Billy Bones, now plainly visible in the light of his lantern as the boat backed oars and came to rest under
Walrus's
larboard quarter. They leaned over the side and looked down into the boat - a small one - that did indeed contain only Black Dog and a pair of oarsmen, apart from Billy Bones, who stood looking up, holding the lantern, with a mournful look on his face.

    "What happened to Flint?" cried Selena. "Billy! What happened?"

    "It were them Indians, ma'am," said Billy Bones. "In the forest."

    "What Indians? What forest?" said Selena.

    "Well, Miss Selena, ma'am, it were dreadful hard. It were shocking bad."

    "What do you mean?"

    "Well… ah… it were dreadful, ma'am…"

    Billy Bones blathered. He dithered. He spouted nonsense. He ran out of words.

    Cowdray spotted it first.

    "It's a trick!" he cried. "This man is Flint's dog! He worship's Flint's shadow! If Flint were dead he'd have every detail in the front of his mind!"

    "All hands take aim at that boat!" cried Warrington, and there was a surging forward and a great levelling of pistols, muskets and carbines over the larboard rail and the light shook in Billy Bones's hand. "Tell me plainly now, Mr Bones," said Warrington, "where is Flint?"

    Billy Bones gulped and swallowed… and said nothing.

    "I shall count to three," said Warrington, "before I fire…"

    "Don't do that!" said Billy Bones. "Not that!"

    "One…" said Warrington, and dozens of firelocks trembled as their owners began to squeeze the triggers, and Billy Bones looked up at certain death. "Two…" said Warrington.

    "No! Don't… please don't… please…" said Billy Bones in a tiny trembling voice, as his sins rose before him and the Devil's breath fell hot upon his neck and Hell reached out for his soul.

    "Last time, Billy Bones," said Warrington. "Where's Flint?"

"Here, Mr Warrington!"
said a voice behind him - a voice that struggled to contain its fathomless mirth, its vicious glee, and its overpowering desire to laugh. "Fire!" it added, and a thunder of gunfire lit the night and deafened the ears, delivered point-blank by the dark body of men who'd pulled alongside
Walrus
with muffled oars, but on the
starboard
side, and swarmed over her starboard rail, while her people were busy elsewhere.

    A dozen of
Walrus's
crew went down in that single volley, then the half-breeds were screaming forward, Indian style, with hatchets and knives, driving
Walrus's
people before them like sheep… at first…

    Two Spanish officers stood at the intersection of four wide, earthy streets in the small quarter of Savannah that was theirs to occupy and hold. Some of the houses were on fire and cast a dull light. Smoke was everywhere and the two men were strung high with nerves at this fighting among houses from which an ambush might fall at any second. They jumped as gunfire came, not from the town, but from the direction of the river.

    "What's that?" said Capitán Herrera.

    "Firing, Señor Capitán!" said Teniente Lopez-Ortega.

    "Yes, but
from the ships?"
said Herrera.

    "From the ships?" repeated Lopez-Ortega, and they looked at each other, for the battle with the English had not gone well. Their company had suffered heavy losses… and the ships were their way out if things got worse. Which they soon would, for Herrera and Lopez-Ortega were standing in front of a dozen men, paraded in arms in case of emergencies, while the rest of the company tried to sleep, wrapped in their ammunition blankets, around pyramids of stacked muskets with the many wounded groaning and rolling in the mud.

    Crack! A musket flashed orange in the dark from the corner of a nearby house, and a ball whizzed audibly - tangibly - between Herrera and Lopez-Ortega and killed a man behind them, who coughed and stumbled, struck fair in the middle of his chest.

    "Stand to arms!" cried the sargentos, and the whole company were up on their feet, seizing their muskets and looking for targets, of which there were none. The two officers ran among them, followed by the sargentos, and together regained control of their men, who were nervous, exhausted… and on the point of breaking.

    It was the same all across Savannah. The battle of volleys might have been a draw, but the woodsmen were wearing down the Spanish will to fight.

    "This place is unsafe," said Capitán Herrera. "We must move the men at once to a better position!"

    Flint's boat pulled steadily downriver through the black night, with himself at the tiller steering by compass and lantern, and Billy Bones alongside him, Black Dog pulling an oar beside the half-dozen surviving half-breeds, and an item of cargo in a sack in the bottom of the boat.

    "We lost the ship, Cap'n," said Billy Bones miserably.

    "It doesn't matter," said Flint.

    "Hard bastards, them
Walruses.
They came back striking left and right!"

    "Yes," said Flint cynically. "It makes you proud, doesn't it?"

    "And they killed all the rest."

"They
don't matter," said Flint softly, then raised his voice: "All the bigger shares for those that survive!" And the oarsmen grinned.

    "But Silver weren't there!"

    "Did you expect him to be?"

    "Yes!"

    "Oh, Billy! He'll have seen me up on the river bank."

    "Yes?"

    "So? Did you think he'd sit and wait for me to come?" "Oh…"

    "No, Billy-my-chicken -" Flint peered around in the dark "- he'll be out there somewhere, trying to get to Chester's house, which is where we're going now, to meet him!"

    "Will he do that?"

    "Yes! Now be silent."

    Billy Bones sat still until the boat nosed up against the pier of Jimmy Chester's private landing where lights shone for Flint to find it again… Flint who was hugging himself in glee for what he'd done. Flint who relished and rolled in the success of it, and in the completeness of his victory, and he chuckled in the joy of it, for his mind was running down channels that were different and new… even for him.

    Something had changed. He knew it! He recognised it! It wasn't just the treasure any more. No! Flint had looked into the caverns of his self and seen that… yes, he'd have the treasure, if he could, and certainly he wouldn't let any other man have it. But
that
wasn't what he really wanted. That wasn't what he ached and longed for. That wasn't what brought the froth to his lips and the white around his eyes when he feared it was in danger. And it certainly wasn't what he'd gone after on this night's expedition.

    Meanwhile Billy Bones reached down for the cargo, in its big sack, and heaved it up over his shoulder with a gasp and a grunt, like a load of coals.