Pirate Souls

I - Chapter 5 - Sea battle

A bell is ringing.

"Galleon ahoy!" shouts a pirate from the crow's nest. "To the East!"

I hasten to the deck to see the ship for myself. I cannot see anything. The lookout post is more than eighteen feet above me on the main mast and he must be using a spyglass.

My heart is beating fit to burst in my ears. Could it be a vessel sent by my husband-to-be to set me free? Or privateers bearing a Letter of Marque, dispatched to these climes to capture my abductors and send them to the gibbet?

A galleon, he said. No, I ramble. Galleons are Spanish or Portuguese ships. They have no care for a French damsel in distress who is all but married to a Scotsman.

"Muster!" shouts the Irishman from the quarterdeck.

I am ashamed to admit it, but I feel excited. It must be that I am more than ready to break the monotony. All the sailors have abandoned their current duties to assemble on deck. John the quarter-master takes his place beside the captain. They have a whispered discussion and then nod their heads with a knowing look.

Even if I am frightened to see all these weather-beaten faces around me, my curiosity prompts me to stay. I want to see what is going to happen. I try to make myself scarce and slip behind the rigging near the main mast.

"Sailors!" Steven starts with his strong voice. "We had agreed in Charleston to stop off on Tortuga before going on to New Orleans to deliver our package."

Nice... I take this very badly and I feel insulted. Nobody cares. They await the rest of the captain's announcement.

"We can continue with our initial plan. For the sale of the goods John and I are committed to paying you eight pieces of eight each. And for the others, to honour our other contract, it will be thirty-five pieces of eight for each of you."

"It will above be all the gibbet," I spit sourly through my teeth.

Nobody has heard my remark.

"For me that is all for the time being," he continues. "John has a different opinion. I will let him talk."

"Men!" shouts John.

It is the first time I have heard his voice. It is nasal and does not carry as far as the captain's voice. But there is nevertheless something in his attitude which fascinates the pirates.

"The galleon is packed with gold! And they are not on the right route to return to the continent. I fathom they may have a problem. What I propose is to get near enough to be able to gauge the situation."

"You ain't serious," cries the young ship's boy named Nick who took part in my abduction. "You ain't really thinking of attacking a galleon with our little brig?"

"Plainly speaking, yes," he answers. "What are a few pieces of eight when we can have gold ingots?"

This is suicidal. These sailors are mad. Completely insane. The expression on Steven's face shows that he shares my feeling. I find that reassuring; he is the captain. He will have the last word.

"For now," the captain says, "we cannot decide to attack, Nick. John, we shall do what you have said. We get near enough for Bappé to be able to describe exactly what is going on there. If our prey is too sizeable, we simply leave. We are much faster than them anyway."

The men nod one after the other. Nobody is really appeased by this announcement. Tension is at its highest as around fifteen sailors return to their stations for the change of course. I slip onto the deck, careful not to disturb the navigators in their manoeuvres.