The Angel's Command fd-2 Read online

  me!"

  The men picked up the pieces of sailcloth that they used as cloaks in rough weather, but Teal

  shook his head. "Go as y'are, barefoot, too. Hard lessons must be learned the hard way. Mr.

  Mate, see them to their posts, if y'please!"

  Obediently the mate touched his forelock. "Aye aye, Cap'n."

  "No, wait!" Teal tapped his chin thoughtfully with the pistol sight. "Bring our froggy prisoner

  here, will ye?"

  Two crewmen escorted the puzzled-looking Ludon into the cabin. Redjack smiled

  benevolently at him. "Ah, there y'are, monsieur. I've decided you shall go along an' spend a

  week aboard the Devon Belle with these three rascals, on half rations of hardtack

  biscuit'n'water."

  Ludon took one glance at the grim-faced trio, then fell on his knees, grabbing Teal's red jacket

  hem. "But Cap'n, sir, what wrong have I done ye?"

  Teal dragged himself free, sending Ludon sprawling with a kick. "Tellin' tales an' causin'

  disaffection among me crew, sirrah, that's what you're guilty of. Take 'em away!"

  The three crewmen were marched out by the mate, followed by two other sailors dragging

  Ludon, who was sobbing pitifully. "No, no, Cap'n, sir, you cannot do this to me!"

  Teal uncocked his pistol, chuckling at his cruel scheme. "Ye mealymouthed toad, I'll show ye

  what I can't an' can do aboard me own ship!"

  Aboard La Petite Marie, Ben was putting the finishing touches to the repairs he had made to

  the window in the captain's cabin. Canvas sheet was not as good for letting in light as the

  original glass windows, but it kept spray and wind out. Using the hilt of a heavy dagger, he

  knocked the final nail into the pleated canvas edge. Ned entered the cabin and looked around,

  sending a thought to his friend. "Bit dark in here, isn't it?"

  Ben put aside the dagger. "Aye, but 'twill do well enough. At least we won't see the Flying

  Dutchman through it."

  Ned remembered what he had come for. "Oh, I think the cap'n wants to see you, Ben. He's up

  in the bows."

  As they made their way along the deck, Ben looked back over his shoulder. He passed a

  mental message to Ned. "See that fellow Gascon? He crossed himself and spat over the side

  after we'd passed. I wonder what's wrong with him?"

  The black Labrador waved his tail airily. "Oh, him, he's my least favourite man aboard this

  ship. He glares at me a lot, I don't know why. I've never done him any harm."

  Thuron was shouting from his position in the bows. "Ben, come here, there's something I

  want you to see!" The boy mounted the bowsprit and locked his legs around it.

  The Frenchman gave him the telescope, pointing. "Dead ahead, you can just make it out—

  land, lad. That's the islands of the Azores. Now point your glass downward and take a look

  into the ocean. What d'you see, Ben?"

  Scanning the surface on either side of the bow wave, Ben tried his best to see something

  distinctive. "Nothing really, sir, just a sort of white blotch now and then, but it's pretty far

  below us. Is that what you mean?"

  Ned was frantically passing messages to Ben. "White blot, what kind of white blot, tell me?"

  Thuron provided the answer. "Remember, I told you there was a whole world beneath the

  ocean. What you see are the tips of mountains, huge tall peaks. We're sailing over the great

  ridge, a sunken range of mountains that runs from Greenland almost to the earth's southern

  tip. Wait until you see the Azores—I think they're part of those mountains. Just higher peaks

  than the rest, sticking up out of the seas to form islands."

  Ben lifted the telescope until he sighted on the rocky peaks of the Azores in the distance.

  "This world is a marvellous thing, Cap'n. It's so vast!"

  La Petite Marie dropped anchor that afternoon in a deep lagoon of the main island. Ben and

  Ned marvelled at the lush tropical greenery that clung to the mountainous rocks around them.

  Pierre lowered the jolly boat and invited them aboard with the party that was going ashore.

  "Come on, you two, we'll get some fruit and fresh water."

  Ben and Ned sat either side of Pierre in the stern. The boy noticed Gascon crouching in the

  bows and flashed a quick thought to his dog. "I wonder what he's up to? He's looking pretty

  furtive."

  Ned wrinkled his forehead. "Huh, hope he falls overboard and drowns!"

  Ben frowned at the black Labrador. "Ned! That's not a very charitable thought."

  Ned sniffed. "I don't care, I don't like that fellow and he doesn't like me, or you. I can sense

  it."

  Pierre was unaware of the conversation and chatted away happily. "Lots of good fruit and

  vegetables growin' on these islands, Ben. They're long-dead volcanoes, and the soil is rich."

  They spent the remainder of the afternoon foraging on the slopes, gathering quantities of the

  island's produce, some familiar, some new to them, but all wonderful. Some of the crewmen

  found a little waterfall that cascaded down into a pond on the mossy ledges. Ben and Ned

  joined them in the crystal-clear water, bathing and splashing each other, laughing like a band

  of children. For the boy and his dog it was a golden day to remember, far from the rigours of

  seafaring and the fear of the Flying Dutchman haunting their dreams.

  They returned to the Marie in the late evening to find a grim-faced Thuron awaiting their

  arrival. He nodded as he checked the boat's crew. "Gascon isn't with you. I suspected as

  much!"

  Pierre looked bewildered. "I hadn't noticed he was missing!"

  The captain slung a musket across his shoulder and picked up his cutlass. "Oh, Gascon has

  jumped ship alright. Ben, you stay here with Ned. Pierre, take four men to row the boat. I'm

  going to hunt that rascal down!"

  Ben could not understand the captain's reasoning. "But why not just let him go, sir? He's not

  much use."

  Thuron explained. "If 'twere just that Gascon is a surly and idle man, he could go for all I

  care. But while you were on the island, I checked my gold and found that someone has helped

  himself to it. That can only be one man—Gascon! He can't run far on the Azores. Pierre and I

  will have him back here, ready to sail at dawn tomorrow."

  Ned stood with his paws on the rail, watching the departing jolly boat as he imparted a

  thought. "You see, I told you I didn't like that Gascon!"

  Ben fondled the dog's silky ear. "What a good judge of men you are, sir. I'll wager that when

  you become captain, you won't have crew like him aboard your ship."

  Ned regarded the boy huffily. "Your humour is misplaced, sir!"

  Later they sat together on the afterdeck with the crew. A pale moon was reflected in the calm

  waters of the lagoon, and not a breeze stirred anywhere. It was warm from the day's heat.

  A crewman was singing softly.

  "Come, my love, gentle one, hearken to me,

  For I'll bring you a fortune someday.

  I'm nought but a man who must follow the sea,

  Let me tell you ere I sail away.

  When the wind stirs the rigging,

  And the white sail's on high,

  My heart is as sad as the long seagull's cry.

  Wait for me, pray for me, 'til once again,

  I sail back to you o'er the wide ocean's main.

  And what will I bring for you, ma belle amour?

  A bracelet of jewels so fine,

  Some silk from Cathay, that I
know you'll adore

  And a ring on your finger to shine.

  So be true to your sailor,

  Wipe the tears from your eye,

  For when I return you will nevermore cry.

  With my feet on the land, and my love by my side,

  'Tis farewell to sailing, I'll make you my bride."

  Ben gazed up at the star-strewn skies, passing Ned a thought. "That's a pretty little melody, eh

  mate?"

  Ned panted as though he were chuckling. "Aye, but just look at the singer. He's a whiskery

  old doormat with an eye patch and only one tooth in his head. I think any poor girl would run

  a mile at the sight of him returning!"

  The boy threw a playful headlock on his dog. "Shame on you, sir, criticising others, just

  because you're a handsome dog!"

  Ned cocked an eye toward Ben. "Cruel but beautiful, that's me!"

  It was not on the next dawn but three days later that an anxious Ben saw the jolly boat's

  return. Gascon's hands were bound behind him, and the crew had to haul him aboard. Thuron

  looked tired and worn out. All hands gathered to see what he would do. Pierre whispered to

  Ben. "Slippery as an eel, that Gascon, but we caught him in the end. Cap'n ain't too pleased at

  losing three days."

  Ben experienced a moment of horror as Thuron drew his dagger. He faced the deserter and

  shouted to the crew.

  "Look!" With a few slashes he sliced through the felon's pockets and coat lining. Gold coins

  glinted in the late-afternoon sun as they clinked upon the deck. Taking Gascon by one ear,

  Thuron shook him roughly. "Couldn't wait for the share-out, could you, rat? I should have let

  you run off with the other three at Puerto Rico. At least they never thieved from the captain

  and shipmates! Take this scum out of my sight. Put him in the anchor-chain locker until I

  decide what to do with him!"

  As he was dragged off by the bosun and several others, Gascon began shouting. "Throw me in

  the sea an' let me swim ashore. I know all about you an' your lucky friends, Thuron. I ain't

  stayin' aboard this ship. She's cursed, I tell ye, cursed!"

  Pierre silenced Gascon with a hefty blow to the jaw. He bundled the half-conscious deserter

  into the chain locker. Barring the door, Pierre growled a warning. "Shut your lyin' mouth an'

  be thankful you're still alive, thief. Cap'n should've run ye through with that dagger!"

  Thuron glanced at the sky, judging the breeze. "We'll haul anchor an' sail at tomorrow's

  dawn."

  It was warm that night, and Ben and Ned settled down to sleep on the open deck. The black

  Labrador gave thoughtful voice to his opinion. "Pierre was right, the cap'n should've slain that

  villain!"

  Ben replied, "That sounds a bit ruthless, mate."

  Ned closed his eyes, adding a final comment. "I've got a bad feeling about Gascon. I think

  there's going to be big trouble for us while he's aboard this ship."

  14

  CAPTAIN REDJACK TEAL HAD NOT PUT IN AT the Azores. Sailing under fair weather

  and favourable winds, he set a course straight for the Bay of Biscay and the coast of France.

  Unknowingly, the Royal Champion, with the Devon Belle still in tow, had passed up the

  chance of catching La Petite Marie unawares, lying as she was in a single-exit lagoon with

  her captain absent ashore. As usual, Teal was seated in his cabin being attended upon hand

  and foot. He had just finished a breakfast of fresh fish, biscuits and Madeira. A crewman was

  busily polishing his captain's buckled shoes, whilst another brushed vigorously at the red

  hunting jacket, which Teal had donned. Redjack had just placed his white-stockinged feet into

  the shoes when a knock sounded. He primped at the crisp white stock overlying his shirt.

  "Come!"

  The mate entered and saluted respectfully. "Come to report a man missin', Cap'n, the French

  prisoner."

  Teal held his arms wide as a crewman belted the Spanish sword and scabbard about his waist.

  "Really? I'm surprised he lasted this long, eh!"

  The mate looked at him questioningly. "Sir?"

  Looking away from the cheval glass, the privateer captain shook his head pityingly. "Oh, use

  your head, sirrah! A demned froggy informer, alone on a ship with three English lads he'd

  been tellin' tales about. I'd have wagered a side of gammon to a pig's snout that he'd have had

  a fatal mishap long since, eh! How do I look?"

  The mate tried to sound enthusiastic at Teal's attire. "Ye cut a good dash, sir, all shipshape an'

  Bristol fashion!"

  Teal sniffed. "Confound Bristol, London's the place t'be seen. Faith! Are ye goin' to leave

  your captain standin' here all day, or will ye attend the door an' let me out on me own deck?

  Move y'self, man!"

  Once on deck, Teal swept the starboard horizon with his telescope. Highly satisfied with what

  he saw, the privateer smiled brightly at his steersman. "Hah, just as I thought, Cape Ortegal on

  the Spanish coast. Admirable navigation, even though I do say it meself! Keep her out from

  the coast 'twixt Gijon an' Santander. We'll skirt the Gulf o' Gascony, then up to the Arcachon

  Basin, eh! Mr. Mate, ye can fetch those three ruffians here from the Devon Belle. Have 'em

  report t'me."

  There was a definite spring to Teal's step as he strode the deck. He felt pleased with himself.

  The three miscreants—the bosun, Joby and the master gunner—had murdered Ludon some

  time during the previous night. They had climbed down from their masthead perches and

  cornered the informer. It was all done swiftly, a quick rap over the head with a belaying pin,

  and the unconscious Ludon was hurled overboard with a necklace of holystones to hasten him

  underwater. Now they stood ashen-faced and resigned in front of their captain, who, they

  were certain, would inflict extreme punishments on them.

  Redjack circled the trio, looking them up and down. Much to their amazement, he winked at

  them and laughed. "Frenchie went missin' durin' the night when 'twas nice an' dark, eh?

  Strange fellow... Did any of ye see him takin' his midnight dip?"

  The bosun acted as spokesman for his mates. "No, sir, we was too busy keepin' life'n'limb

  together atop the masts, sir. None of us seen nothin', Cap'n."

  Teal nodded approvingly. "Well said, true blue an' never betray one's shipmates, eh? That's

  the British way, m'lads! Methinks ye've had enough of mastheads an' half rations. A happy

  ship's what's needed, so I'm returnin' ye to duties aboard the Royal Champion. Be good men,

  behave yourselves, an' serve king an' captain loyally. Well, what have ye got to say for

  yourselves, eh?"

  The trio could scarce believe Teal's change of heart. They tugged furiously at their forelocks,

  chanting, "Aye aye, Cap'n! Thankee, sir!"

  But Teal had strode off toward his cabin.

  Joby stood openmouthed—he had fully expected to be hanged for murder. "Well blow me

  down, Cap'n's changed tack for the better!"

  The master gunner nodded his grizzled head. "Aye, an' so would I if 'n I was sailin' in these

  waters. Spain an' France ain't friendly to English vessels, especially privateers. Old Redjack's

  goin' to need every man jack of us in case of attack, that's what I say!"

  The bosun agreed wholeheartedly. "Redjack wouldn't look too happy with a Spanish or

  French man-o'-war comin' at him. Not with a bosun an' a master gunn
er out o' commission.

  What say you, Joby?"

  The former carpenter's mate grinned. "Let's go an' see what Cookie's got in the pot. My

  stomach's stickin' to me spine with 'unger!"

  The bosun threw an arm around Joby's shoulder. "Good idea. There should be plenty o' vittles

  in the galley. There's one mouth less to feed—the Frenchie's!"

  They hurried off to the galley, laughing like children.

  By nightfall the Royal Champion had passed Gijon and was halfway to Santander, running at

  full sail, with the Devon Belle tagging behind like a puppy dog.

  Redjack pored over the charts in his cabin, humming the melody of "The Jolly Captain." He

  felt that now, more than at any other time in his life, luck and good fortune were at last

  smiling down on him. What a tale would be told around the taverns and fashionable

  coffeehouses of London! Redjack Teal arriving home with a fine Spanish galleon and two

  others in tow, carrying with him a fortune in gold coin, the weight of a man!

  He would become a legend in his own lifetime.

  Morning sunlight glittered over the ocean as La Petite Marie weighed anchor and sailed.

  Raphael Thuron stood at the wheel, grinning at the antics of Ben, who, with his dog's

  assistance, was taking a turn at steering the vessel.

  The Frenchman encouraged his lucky friends. "Hold her steady, that's the way! Now take her

  a point east. Not too far, Ben! Watch Ned, he's got the hang of it!"

  The black Labrador stood on his hind legs, both forepaws resting on the wheel, chiding Ben.

  "You heard the cap'n—hold her steady, mate, like I'm doing. If I weren't going t'be a cap'n

  one day, I think I'd make a first-class steersdog!"

  Ben tried to keep from laughing as he steadied the wheel. "Sorry, Ned, I can't help it if I'm

  only a clumsy human!"

  Mallon and another buccaneer named Corday were hauling up pails of seawater and swilling

  the midships decks. Hearing Thuron's laughter, they turned to watch the boy and his dog at the

  wheel. Mallon shook his head. "Just look at that, mate. It ain't right. I never heard of a lad an'

  a hound at the wheel of a ship, have you?"

  Corday lowered his voice. "I'm beginnin' to think there's some truth in what Gascon's been

  saying."

  Mallon eyed his shipmate. "Tell me."

  Corday emptied his pail, watching the water run off through the scuppers. "Gascon says those