Ill Wind and Dead Reckoning: Caribbean Pirate Adventure (Valkyrie) (40 page)

I grabbed for the backstaff, which had been about to fly off the chart table, and cursed.
Valkyrie’s
motion had been getting wilder all day; the waves were too violent for the wind strength and now, as they’d promised, the wind was getting up. I put the navigational gear away with relief – at least that was done for another day – and headed back up on to deck.

Davys had the tiller with Gaunt standing by, and I looked up at the sails and sky, then checked the swinging needle of the compass.

‘What are we in for Mr Gaunt? It smells like a hurricane to me.’

He smiled at my choice of words, knowing full well I had yet to experience a full-blown hurricane. ‘Nay, it’s February lass, wrong time of year for hurricanes, but we’re in for a blow all right.’

With his words the big mainsail shivered and the canvas by the mast lost its wind and flapped.

‘Aye, pay her off Mr Davys, keep her sailing with the wind abeam.’

I nodded my agreement and moved forward. I’d loved the strong wind ever since that first night – once I’d got over the conviction we were sinking. I ducked down below the windward bulwark as another wave broke over the side, and held on to the mainshrouds whilst water swirled around my legs, trying to pull them from under me. It cleared through the scuppers and I started moving again, gasping with the exhilaration of our speed through the waves and keeping an eye out for the next big sea. I checked the sails; the wind was definitely fouling – backing to the north and forcing us to bear away westerly as we had the square topsails flying. So be it, I couldn’t risk them being caught aback, and possibly springing a mast or two. I reached the soaking wet foredeck. Every wave cascaded over the bows and windward rail as the crests broke over us with a face full of spray before we plunged down the back into the trough, then started the rolling climb up the next one.

Despite my excitement, I reminded myself that we were on our own out here, and I was responsible for every life on this deck. If something – anything – went wrong,
Valkyrie
could be knocked down and sunk, and we’d all die. I’d have killed my entire crew. I had to curb in my instinct to revel in the storm and concentrate on keeping everyone safe.

‘Carmen!’ I shouted. She was directing the activity on the foredeck. ‘Get the tops’ls and forecourse in!’

‘What?’ She looked at me as if I’d lost my sanity. ‘Why? She can take it, she’s loving this.’

‘Shorten sail, Carmen! Annika, Bess, Baba! Lay aloft and get that forecourse in, then the tops’l!’ I shouted.

Babawande went straight to the ratlins, but Annika and Bess looked at Carmen.

‘
I’m
your captain, not her! Do
not
look to her for instruction! I told you to lay aloft! Move! Now!’

They went. Carmen glowered. This could not go on.

‘Will you take over here, or do I have to do it all?’

Still glowering, Carmen nodded, then turned her back.

I turned my own back to the wind and spray, and scanned my decks. I realized the water level was never below my knees and we were taking on more water than the scuppers could clear. As the crew got to work, the square sails quickly lost the wind, and we sailed on a more even keel, but I didn’t think we were out of danger yet.

‘Douse the galley fire, then get below,’ I told Klara, knowing she still was not comfortable on deck in a storm. Then I noticed Carmen glance to windward, looking worried, and I turned to face the cascade of wind and water myself. This was going to get worse before it got any better; I should have shortened sail before this. Sky and water darkened rapidly except for the white horses and streaks of foam, and I didn’t think it would be long before spindrift was whipped off the crests of the waves. I turned back to Carmen.

‘Reef the fores’l.’

She nodded. No arguments now, the wind was getting up quicker than even she had realized; now she was pure sailor. I left her to it, sure her complaints had been purely for the sake of argument, and headed aft to supervise the reefing of the main. Gaunt had already followed my example with the fore-topsail, and the maintop was coming in. Everything was under control. I was far enough aft now to be able to breathe through the spray, and I faced the wind, enjoying the feel of raw power and speed on my face. I almost felt like I was flying. I was strong, invincible.

‘Captain, look out, lassie!’ I barely heard the cry against the wind, even though Gaunt was just behind me, and was aware of his grip on my arm only when he pulled me violently backwards and something landed heavily on the deck where I’d been standing. Not something, someone: Cartwright.

Blood spread round a body obviously broken – even if he somehow lived I couldn’t imagine that body talking, walking, sailing. Arms and legs pointed in directions arms and legs shouldn’t point. Head faced . . . head faced . . . well, not ahead.

I looked up, but Jayde and Greenwoode didn’t have a moment to spare to look down after their fallen comrade, they had their hands full with the wildly flapping topsail that had blown free and knocked Cartwright from the yard. If they weren’t careful, they’d soon join him on deck.

Gaunt rushed to him, but shook his head. There was nothing he could do for him, poor devil. I was shocked.
One of my crewmen is dead
.
Would he be alive if I’d shortened sail earlier? Is this my fault?

I realized Jayde and Greenwoode still needed help to bring in the sail and looked about me. Everyone was busy fighting tiller or cordage. I made my decision quickly and jumped for the ratlins, climbing with the wind at my back. Higher and higher. Forty feet, fifty feet. I clambered up to the maintop platform and hung on for my life as I waited to go over the edge, wind howling and trying to whip me off and away.

Then up the next set of smaller ratlins to the topyard seventy feet above the dark-grey and white maelstrom that, hours before, had been the placid sparkling blue Carib Sea. I clung to the mast, my eyes streaming from the wind and salt spray – even up here. My heart thumped in fear and I tried to judge the moment I would leave the mast’s solidity and step out on to the footrope. Upright, roll to leeward, pitch forward, upright, over to windward, pitch, upright, back to leeward – an impossible arc. I wanted to go on the lesser roll to windward and had to will myself to do it. Now. I took a deep breath and stretched my bare foot forward on to the thin line tied at intervals the length of the yard – all that would prevent me from plummeting to the deck below.

I threw myself forward and put all my trust into the wind blowing me on to the yard that moved towards me. My breath was punched out of me as my belly hit solid wood and I hung on desperately, hoping I hadn’t hurt the life I was almost sure was growing inside. That was the worst bit over.

I gave myself a minute to get my breath and nerves back, then inched my way windward towards Jayde and Greenwoode, who were still doing battle. I wrapped my right arm around one of the hempen gaskets, and hoped my shoulders would prove strong enough for this. I braced my weight between the footrope and yard, and leaned forward over the wooden spar, hands outstretched to begin to force the wet, heavy canvas into submission, knowing that Cartwright had died falling from this spot.

My legs and arms were agony and I forced myself to ignore them, concentrating instead on turning my fingers into claws to drag the sail up, tuck it under my slightly swollen stomach, and pull up more in a fight for every inch. Jayde and Greenwoode disappeared. The deck below disappeared. Even the sea disappeared into the thundering of the canvas and the shrieking of the wind in the rigging. All that existed for me was the wood beneath my belly and the yard of canvas before my face. Time reduced to seconds; there was no past, no future, only now, this instant, this sail – and the knowledge that if I couldn’t do this, I would lose my ship and every soul aboard her, and all their deaths would be my fault. Just like Cartwright’s.

I gave another almighty heave to trap yet another fold of canvas beneath me as a gust hit. The footrope slackened, and suddenly I was leaning too far over, only balanced rather than braced. I gripped the wood between my belly and thighs, terrified, and braced my arms against the sail, pushing the canvas away from me. The line I’d wound round my right arm cut into my skin, and both my shoulders burned in agony. I didn’t dare breathe in case that was enough to tip me over. I hung there for what seemed an age, sobbing in terror as I balanced precariously over the yard of my ship.
I can’t do this, I’ve already killed one man, am I now going to kill myself and my unborn child? And everyone else aboard
Valkyrie
, both friend and crew, while I’m at it?
The gust passed and I rocked backwards into the lull, my feet scrabbling for the footrope. I took a moment to rest and let the blood flow back into my right arm, wanting to hug my stomach but unable to do so. I looked across at the other two and saw that Jayde, furthest out on the earing, was nearly done and stowing the sail. She’d managed to fold the canvas into itself and was now fighting whipping cordage to secure it. I winced as I saw the thin line of gasket catch her face, but she didn’t let go and I was filled with respect for her determination and courage.
I have to do this. Have to do this. Have to
. I took a deep breath and leaned over the yard again, flexing my fingers before curling them back into claws. I grabbed a fistful of canvas and hauled, then grabbed another, and another. It would get easier now there wasn’t so much canvas exposed for the wind to catch, and both Greenwoode and Jayde moved closer to me, tying gaskets as they went, taming the sail.

There. Done. A quick breather and scan of the furious cloud and water, then across to leeward to do it all over again.

‘What the hell were you thinking? You’re carrying a child, Gabriella! What the hell were you doing up there!’

‘Klara, hush, I’m well, calm yourself.’ There was no point denying it. If Klara had seen the signs, I could be sure I was with child. I sighed;
maybe it would be better if the child doesn’t get born – what kind of life is this for a child? Or for a mother?
But I wasn’t going to say that out loud, not even to Klara.

‘What if you’d fallen, too? What then? All this would have been for naught and you’d be dead!’

I ignored Klara’s temper and sat down in relief, my arms and legs shaking from my climb and exertions in the tops. I didn’t want to think about what had happened to Cartwright.

‘Here,’ Klara said, shoving a steaming beaker of chocolate at me. I would have preferred rum. ‘Not that you deserve it, but you’re soaked through and shaking. You’d best not succumb to fever.’ As if that would be by choice.

‘Thank you, Klara.’ I ignored her rebuke and reached out to take the beaker with both hands. I didn’t trust my fingers and had been flexing them whenever I could – both they and my feet cramped painfully. On top of that, the shaking in my legs was getting worse, not better, now that I’d sat down.

I put the beaker down before my arms followed suit and I dropped it. I wasn’t used to lying over a yard and fighting canvas in this weather, and I hugged my belly, hoping after all that I hadn’t hurt the life growing in there.

‘Thee knows thee threatened thy babby just as much, if not more, than the Cap did you, lassie,’ Gaunt pointed out. ‘Is thee gonna run from theesen now?’

I looked at him, angry. ‘You know as well as I do I had no choice but to go aloft, we could have lost the ship and then we’d all be dead, “babby” included. You’re no topman, and
Valkyrie
did not have time for me to wade along deck to find someone else, and neither did Jayde or Greenwoode – you know that as well as I do, Mr Gaunt. I’m the captain of this vessel and everyone aboard is my responsibility, not just my belly, so why don’t you stop fussing and get out on deck!’

‘Aye, Captain,’ he replied, stony-faced, and I wondered if I’d once again gone too far, but I wasn’t having him berate me in front of others, and I
knew
I’d done the right thing – the only thing I could have done in the circumstances.

‘Drink your chocolate!’ Klara instructed. ‘And put this on.’ She’d found a dry shirt in my seachest. I flexed my fingers a few times, then obeyed, reflecting how quickly I’d got used to the lack of privacy at sea. The shirt was immediately damp, but I had to confess it was better than the sodden rag the last one had become. I flexed my fingers again, the feeling in them was coming back, and I risked picking up the beaker to drink. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so tired; even drinking was an effort.

‘Thee’s got more trouble, lass.’ Gaunt was back and continued, ‘Both tops’ls are in, the mains’l’s reefed, fores’l and course both stowed, and both jibs are flying.
Valkyrie’s
sailing well, but that Dane’s on the warpath.’

Carmen burst into the cabin.

‘You’re a damned fool to sail like this; that crew’s not up to it, there’s not enough of us and it’s not safe out there for my Awildas!’ she stormed. ‘A captain needs to be on deck, not aloft or hiding in the cabin! Do you even care what’s happening on your decks?’

I drained the chocolate then stood up with a sigh. ‘There are no Awildas any more, Carmen.
Awilda
is wrecked off Sankt Jan Island. There are only Valkyries aboard this ship and you need to get used to that. Make your report and be quick about it.’ I was fast running out of patience with this woman, no matter how good a sailor she was.

‘Your crew doesn’t know what it’s doing, and my girls are having to do all the work! Those slaves still don’t know the difference between a sheet and a brace, and your husband’s men are hiding in here with you.’ She glared at Gaunt.

‘Now ‘ang on a minute, lass . . .’ Gaunt said.

‘There are no slaves aboard
Valkyrie,
and Leo is not my husband,’ I started, but she hadn’t finished.

‘We’ve no business being out here with this crew, you should’ve run for shelter as soon as the wind started getting up.’ This from the woman who hadn’t wanted me to take in the topsails.

‘If you carry on like this you’ll kill us all! You’ve already killed one man, who’s next? If it’s one of mine I promise you there’ll be trouble. You’ve no business being out here!’

‘Are you challenging me?’ I was cold. I had suspected this was coming, I’d have had to be blind and simple not to, but I’d been hoping for a bit more time.

‘Lass . . . Captain . . .’ Gaunt cautioned us.

‘Damn right I am!’ Carmen ignored him. ‘This boat deserves a better captain – so far you’ve left her sister ship and the strength and opportunity
Sound of Freedom
lent us, you’ve killed Cartwright, risked all our lives, and we’ve not taken an ounce of gold or a single coin. This is not what I signed on account to! I call for a vote.
I’d
make sure the crew worked together and pulled their weight out there!’

‘Stop this now, the pair o’ you! Leo Santiago’s Captain, whether he’s ‘ere or not! This boat is still under his command! Thee can’t change his crew without his say so! Settle down!’ Gaunt tried again.

‘How can the crew work together if we can’t?’ I retorted, ignoring him myself now. ‘If
you’re
arguing with your captain, how can there be any discipline or unity out there?’

‘Then put it to a vote. As he said, Santiago isn’t here.’ She glanced at Gaunt, then glared at me again, ‘You’ve left him and his protection – and his command. You’ve mutinied. You’re on your own, so let the crew vote. If you’re voted captain, you’ll have no more trouble from me, and if
I
am, we’ll all live longer and get rich in the process!’

‘And what would you have done differently? We haven’t spotted a prize to take, and you’d have kept the tops’ls flying out there – how would that have kept us alive and rich? You know what? Yes,’ I said. ‘Make course for the lee of St Vincent, let the wind drop and everyone rest. We’ll hold a crew council, make a decision and get on with it.’ I realized the first step for the crew to come together was to elect their leaders in the tradition of the Carib Sea, and I had to accept whatever and whomever they chose. Listening to Carmen rant and abuse her crewmates, I thought I had a good chance of winning and would take that whilst I could, and before she and the men realized I was with child. With any luck, Carmen had played her hand too soon. ‘In the meantime, get back out there and sail my ship.’

Her lips pursed in a tight smile and she left the cabin. I looked at Gaunt in dismay as he shook his head in silent yet obvious disapproval.