The Pirates and the Nightmaker (6 page)

‘Keep looking.’

‘Should we pick them up?’

Jenny Blade shrugged. ‘It might be more convenient to blow them out of the water. They will be an unnecessary complication.’

These cold-blooded words filled me with horror. It had not occurred to me that Sophie’s mother and her crew
would do anything but rescue their fellow creatures, fellow Englishmen to boot. Yet, here they were suggesting sending them to Davy Jones as if they were choosing boots to wear. I looked at Sophie, but she either had not heard or was avoiding my eyes. Now I was torn. I really needed to get back to Mr Wicker to tell him that he and the survivors from the
Firefly
could well be rowing frantically to their doom, but I also needed to know Jenny Blade’s decision. Given that the jolly-boat was still well out of cannon range, I decided to stay.

‘They are making good progress in this sea,’ observed the lieutenant.

‘So we will know what they are soon enough, I dare say,’ said Jenny Blade. ‘Hand me your telescope.’

When the other obliged, she lifted it to her eye and kept it trained on the approaching jolly-boat for a considerable time. At length she put the telescope aside and exclaimed, ‘The devil! I’d swear that man in the bows is Wicker!’

‘Wicker?’

‘A man on a quest, a strange man … We met in England some time back. His purpose then was beyond my powers and, indeed, my courage.’

‘A quest?’

‘Yes, he seeks an astrolabe.’

‘An astrolabe? That sounds not much of a quest. He could acquire an astrolabe from any ship’s chandlers or merchant, surely. There are still some to be had …’

‘But this, according to Mr Wicker, is no ordinary astrolabe.’

‘In what way?’

‘I know not. He would not say. However, I suspect it may have certain qualities, or certain attributes beyond any astrolabe a chandler might supply.’

‘You said powers and courage?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Jenny Blade. ‘I want not for courage and nor do you or any of my men, but what this Wicker wanted was beyond belief or reason.’

The lieutenant glanced at her inquiringly.

‘He wanted, no less, for a ship to take him to Cartagena de Indias in New Granada, the most heavily fortified Spanish town in the Spanish Main!’

The lieutenant whistled in disbelief.

‘Not merely take him there, but to somehow gain entrance to the port, locate the astrolabe, for he believes it is hidden there, steal it from the Spaniards, and escape with it in his clutches!’

‘Did he wish to steal the moon and stars as well?’

‘He might as well have,’ said Jenny Blade, smiling.

‘But he is here, on this jolly-boat?’

‘I am almost certain he is. He has sent me intelligence that he was returning to the Caribbean. He had heard that Admiral Vernon intended to sack Cartagena, the fort and the town, and claim it for King George.’

‘Oh, aye,’ laughed the lieutenant, ‘and all for the sake of an ear.’

‘I wonder how many lives have been lost because of that ear.’

Jenny Blade lifted the telescope once more.

‘He hoped to renew his request with the understanding
that the Spanish are no longer guardians of the fort. I wonder then,’ she added, smiling grimly, ‘if Mr Wicker has heard the news.’

‘So, we should have them on board?’

‘Oh yes, I should like to see Wicker’s face when he learns what has happened.’

I had listened to this dialogue with growing interest. Now I began to understand why Wicker had gained passage on the
Firefly
. We were going to join Admiral Vernon’s forces in Kingston Harbour. Mr Wicker, it seemed, hoped to visit the fort in Cartagena once it had been captured and find this mysterious astrolabe. Moreover, he was hoping to make this journey on the
Medusa
.

I backed away from the two at the rail and joined Sophie who was standing some feet away.

‘Your mother knows Mr Wicker,’ I whispered.

She looked at me and nodded. I stared at her, trying to read her face. When I’d told Sophie about Mr Wicker she had given no sign that she recognised the name. Did she not really know? Or was she a clever dissembler? Should I have trusted her?

‘Do
you
?’ I asked.

Sophie shook her head. ‘I do not know him,’ she whispered. ‘But then, I know few of my mother’s acquaintance. She believes it is safer that way …’

‘In this case,’ I observed, ‘it almost certainly is. He is someone to be feared. And you must remember, do not let him know you can see me …’

‘I’ll try,’ whispered Sophie.

At that point, Jenny Blade swung about and looked towards her daughter. My heart leapt into my mouth. Sophie could see and hear me. Did that mean her mother could as well? Had she heard our whispered conversation? My fear was, however, short-lived. There was no start of surprise in Jenny Blade’s eyes, nor any indication that she had noticed a strange winged figure standing by her daughter.

‘Sophie,’ she said. ‘Something in me has relented. We will bring these wretched men aboard. They look to be in need of sustenance. Go to the galley and tell the cook to find some beef and biscuit and fresh water.’

‘Of course, Mama,’ said Sophie, and with a small parting smile at me, she hurried away. I moved to the rail and saw that the jolly-boat now was drawing close to the shadow of the ship and that men on the
Medusa
were preparing to throw it ropes.

Not long thereafter, the men on the jolly-boat were one by one allowed to climb on board.

That evening, Jenny Blade, her lieutenant, whose name I had discovered was Abel Griff, and Sophie entertained Mr Wicker, Captain Lightower and Dr Hatch to dinner in the wardroom. I sat in there as well, squeezed on a bench that ran along the outer bulkhead.

I had to admire Sophie’s presence of mind and discipline. She gave no indication at any time of my being in the cabin; her eyes never strayed my way.

Mr Wicker, on the other hand, would often glance in my direction and give me a small secret smile or even a little wink sometimes. He seemed to enjoy not only the fact of my discomfit, but also that he possessed a secret knowledge of my presence none of the others were aware of.

As I sat watching the party eat and drink, I was reminded of the other ways my transformation had taken me away from all that was human. In addition to my invisibility and my wings, I was no longer oppressed by the tropic sun, and I no longer felt hot or cold. Now I realised that not only had I flown beyond the bounds of earth, I had flown beyond
hunger and thirst; I had no need or desire for food or drink.

It was clear that my companions, recently on the jolly-boat, had no such qualms. All made the most of the plates and dishes laid before them, and Dr Hatch so often replenished his glass another bottle of brandy was called for.

When their plates were taken away, Captain Lightower stood and raised his glass to toast his rescuers.

‘I thank you, madam,’ he said. ‘This salvation was as timely as it was unexpected. I am afraid my men were at their extremity and another day or so in an open boat and we would certainly have lost more than we did. Your very good health, madam, and our heartfelt thanks! I serve the king and I am sure he would second this toast.’

Jenny Blade lifted her glass in acknowledgement and replied, smiling, ‘It is good to know King George might see some virtue in me yet. I’m not at all sure he always has.’

‘God save the king!’ exclaimed Dr Hatch, although I thought not so much out of loyalty as out of the opportunity to re-charge his glass.

‘But, Captain,’ continued Jenny Blade, ‘am I to understand, from what you have said, that some of your men were lost from the boat?’

‘Alas, yes,’ said the captain. ‘My bosun’s mate lost his footing and fell overboard, and not long after that Dr Hatch’s little loblolly boy did the same.’

‘You have been fortunate then,’ said Jenny Blade, ‘to have lost so few.’

I quickly glanced at Sophie to see how she was taking the news of my drowning. Once again, I was amazed at
her composure. She made no comment and didn’t alter her expression in any way. She quietly studied the table as if it were an interesting book that held her rapt.

‘Well, Captain,’ said Jenny Blade, ‘it was indeed fortunate we found you when we did. By the way, you may not realise it but you really owe your delivery to my daughter Sophia. It was she who observed you from the lookout and drew our attention to you …’

I sat very still, scarcely daring to look at Mr Wicker in case he made something of this. Like the others at the table, he turned to look at Sophie when she lifted her eyes and gave the company a small smile. Mr Wicker frowned slightly then, as if thinking to himself, and then he flashed me a sharp questioning glance. This time, it was my turn to remain impassive and I fought not to give anything away. I’m not sure I fooled the man, but he did look away eventually to re-join the conversation.

Now the captain was speaking. ‘The strange thing is,’ he said, measuring his words carefully, ‘that while your daughter may have observed our little boat, long before we ourselves could make out the masts of your vessel, our passenger Mr Wicker here had some intuition of your presence. Indeed, so convinced was he of this, he practically ordered my men to row towards you. Moreover,’ he added, ‘most mysteriously of all, he was absolutely right.’

‘Indeed, I was,’ Mr Wicker put in easily, ‘despite your thinking that I had been touched by the sun. Admit it, my good fellow!’

The captain glanced at him suspiciously. I knew he would
have been stung by being called Mr Wicker’s good fellow, or Mr Wicker’s good anything for that matter. As if goaded, he said, ‘It was an exceedingly strange intuition, madam, and even stranger that Mr Wicker not only sensed the presence of your ship from the very air as it were, but in truth was able to name your ship and also name your good self!’

‘Astonishing!’ said Jenny Blade. ‘Do you admit this, Mr Wicker?’

‘I do confess it, madam. A remarkable conjecture, I admit, but without it I doubt whether I could have persuaded the men to row towards an empty horizon.’

‘Remarkable, indeed,’ grumbled Captain Lightower.

Jenny Blade looked at him, mocking his ill humour. ‘Really Captain, you seem so morose about this. Am I to believe you had rather Mr Wicker had been wrong and you had not been rescued?’

‘Not at all, madam,’ said the captain stiffly. ‘Yet the manner of our rescue …’

‘God save the king!’ cried Dr Hatch, who had been following the brandy rather than the conversation.

‘I think I may be able to help you with this little mystery, sir,’ said Jenny Blade. ‘You see, Mr Wicker knows both me and this vessel. There was a time, indeed, he wished to charter it himself for some purpose I forget the nature of now. I imagine that knowing our vessel could be in the vicinity, his claim that we were just over the horizon was possibly a triumph of hope over reason. Would that not be so, Mr Wicker?’

‘As you say, madam, possibly,’ smiled Mr Wicker, raising his glass to her, ‘and you may possibly be right.’

I looked at the captain and his frown grew deeper. It was perfectly clear he did not believe a word either was saying.

‘And, Captain,’ said Jenny Blade, ‘your vessel you say was boarded and you and your men were cast away in the
jolly-boat
?’

‘It was, madam,’ replied Captain Lightower bitterly. I could understand his bitterness. It is a dreadful thing to lose a ship, especially without a cannon or shot being fired and in the middle of the night. Somehow, when he returned to Kingston Harbour, Captain Lightower would need to explain this to the admiralty and it wouldn’t look good for him. Where was the watch? It would appear a gross dereliction of captaincy.

‘And your orders?’ asked Jenny Blade. ‘Or are they a military secret?’

‘No secret, madam,’ said Captain Lightower more easily. ‘We were to join a flotilla in Jamaica, and thence to meet up with Admiral Vernon’s fleet.’

At this Abel Griff gave a short snorting laugh and said, ‘What? Join Old Grog!’

‘What do you mean, sir?’ demanded Captain Lightower curtly, annoyed at the discourtesy.

Jenny Blade stared at the captain. ‘I think you have not heard the news, Captain Lightower,’ she said.

‘News, madam,’ said the captain. ‘What news?’

‘Why, that Admiral Vernon has just been roundly defeated at Cartagena,’ she said, ‘with large numbers of his ships, and so many of his men. A mere handful of Spaniards saw him off, and yellow fever did the rest.’

‘Is this true, madam?’ demanded the captain, shocked.

‘Quite, quite true,’ sighed Jenny Blade. ‘Poor Admiral Vernon … How the world must be laughing! To be roundly beaten thus and by so few, and by Blas de Lezo — a Spaniard with a wooden leg, only one good eye and only one arm!’

‘And all for one little ear,’ added Abel Griff, with another short laugh.

This was dreadful news. All those months ago when I’d boarded the
Firefly
I had been so pleased and so proud to be on my way to be part of the admiral’s campaign. Not even Captain Lightower’s contempt or my master’s cruelty had quite extinguished that pride. And now, this. I looked about the table and all were sombre, with the possible exception of Griff. But I was particularly struck by the expression on Mr Wicker’s face. For the first time since I’d known him, he had lost that arrogant self-assuredness, that smiling superiority. Quite simply he looked alarmed, as if he had lost something very, very valuable.

‘But Mistress Blade,’ he said, ‘can you be sure?’

‘Oh, there’s absolutely no doubt,’ she said. ‘Fifty ships lost, I understand.’

‘So Cartagena is not taken?’

There was a note of desperation in Mr Wicker’s voice. I looked at him curiously.

‘Certainly not,’ said Jenny Blade, ‘and the foolish thing is the admiral had ordered a victory medal struck before he’d even won the battle!’

‘What do they say about counting eggs?’ grinned Abel Griff.

There was a sudden scrape of his chair as Mr Wicker stood up. He looked distracted and a little desperate. ‘Excuse me, madam,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling … I feel I must have some air …’ And without further courtesies or apologies, he made for the door, opened it and stepped into the darkness of the quarterdeck.

At this abrupt departure, Sophie did allow herself a glance at me, raising her eyebrows in query.

We weren’t the only pair to exchange glances. I noticed as I looked back around the table that Mr Griff and Jenny Blade, too, had given each other a brief conspiratorial smile and this suddenly explained Mr Wicker’s departure.

The astrolabe.

Jenny Blade and Griff had talked about it on deck. The mysterious astrolabe that Mr Wicker was seeking was, he believed, being held in the fortress at Cartagena. With Admiral Vernon’s victory, he might have been able to retrieve it; but with Admiral Vernon’s defeat it would remain securely in the hands of the Spanish garrison.

His whole journey to the Caribbean had been dependent on Admiral Vernon’s victory.

Now it had been for nought.