Authors: James McGee
"I
don't understand," Hawkwood said.
"One
of the reasons Morgan chose to carry out the raid when he did was to take advantage
of the tide. Cutters have
deep draughts
and are not usually good for close inshore work, so he needed a high tide to
enable him to load the gold on to his ship and then make his escape.
"To
get to Gravelines, however, he would first have to steer south to avoid Les
Sables - what you call the Goodwin Sands." Lasseur tapped the chart.
"During that part of his journey, the tide would have been against him;
with the wind driving him against the shore, his progress would have been very
slow. Once he cleared the Downs and reached the southern end of the Sands, the
tide would have been more in his favour, but so long as this wind holds, he'll
find it hard to make headway. Even if the breeze remains gentle, he will have
to tack constantly. Cutters are fast; that's why the free traders use them.
Ordinarily, a cutter could probably outrun a schooner, but in a headwind he
will not have got very far.
Scorpion
will be faster –she can defeat the wind. I believe we can catch him."
"I
thought ships couldn't sail into the wind," Hawkwood said.
"Scorpion
can,"
Lasseur said confidently.
"How?"
"She
has a special type of sailing rig. I designed it myself. It's based on the rigs
of the xebecs, the ships used by Barbary pirates. They robbed European vessels and
escaped by sailing
into
the wind, leaving escorts unable to chase them. I studied the design when I was
in the Mediterranean.
Scorpion's
rig has been adapted so that she can use the same tactic. You saw how her main
mast is square rigged? Those sails provide the forward motion, thrusting her
through the waves. The xebec sails were triangular and set between bowsprit and
foremast. I use the same principle, but instead of one large sail I use two,
between my fore and main masts. With the jibs, they create a lifting motion;
soon as they're raised, you'll see that they are cut flatter than normal. That
allows her to go to windward and to glide over the waves with ease."
Hawkwood
tried to look as if he knew what Lasseur was talking about. He was pleased to
see that Jago didn't appear any the wiser.
"What
have you told your crew?"
"That
we seek the enemy. It's what we do."
"Won't
they wonder what Nathaniel and I are doing here?"
"We've
been together a long time. They will not question my actions."
There
was a discreet cough. Lasseur's lieutenant stood in the doorway.
Lasseur
acknowledged his lieutenant's presence and laid the compasses on the chart.
"Forgive me, gentlemen," he said crisply. "I need to be on deck.
Let me show you to my quarters."
Lasseur
led them through the ship towards the stern. The schooner was small, Hawkwood
saw; a minnow compared to the
Rapacious.
Curiously, even though he had to duck his head beneath the beams, there seemed
to be a lot more headroom; he realized it was probably due to the ship having
only the one lower living deck. Several crew members, who'd already welcomed
Lasseur topside, were seated at the tables in the mess area and their faces lit
up as Lasseur entered. He greeted each one by name as he passed through. It was
impossible not to notice the renewed spring in his step now that he was back on
board his ship.
The
stern cabin was tiny, with two narrow berths and a table and a seat beneath the
window.
"Make
yourselves
comfortable," Lasseur told them.
"I'll have Raoul bring you something from the galley. It will be cold on
deck later, so we'll find you some extra gear."
When
Lasseur had left, Jago lowered himself on to the window seat and ran a hand
over his cropped hair. He looked at Hawkwood and sighed.
"Remind
me again why we're here."
Hawkwood
sank on to a berth.
"Because
I'm damned if I'll let Morgan get away with it.
This is the only chance I've got of catching him."
"Of
getting killed, more like! Morgan's gone. Couldn't you just admit that you've
lost him? You can't win them all."
"I
haven't lost him yet," Hawkwood said.
"No,
right, that's how come we're sailing to France with a
Frog
privateer.
You couldn't just cut your
losses, hand
Monsewer over
to the authorities and go back to London with Micah and me?"
"I
can't hand him in, Nathaniel. Not when it means sending him to the hulks. I
wouldn't do that to any man. You wouldn't, either, if you'd seen what those
places are like. He saved my life. I owe him. I reckon he's gotten this far, he
deserves a chance. In any case, I don't see as I had much choice."
"You've
always had a choice!"
"It's
not that easy."
"From
where I'm bloody sitting, it is," Jago snapped back. "Have you asked
yourself why Lasseur's doing this? Way I see
it,
it's
in his interest to give Morgan a clear run. The Emperor will get his gold,
Lasseur gets to go home. All we are is bloody ballast! You do know you ain't
going to get the gold back?"
"I
don't give a damn about the gold!
It's
Morgan I want.
The bastard's responsible for the deaths of two naval officers, a Revenue man
and at least two British soldiers. Not to mention the inconvenience he's caused
me."
"And
the Frog prisoners?"
"I'll
leave them to Lasseur's conscience."
"He's
got one, has he? What's to stop him delivering us up to the Frog authorities? Could
be all you've done is exchange an English hulk for a French one. That's if they
don't shoot us for being bloody spies."
"He
won't do that."
"Who
says?"
"He
did. He gave me his word."
"And
you believe him?"
"Yes.
Besides, it's not in his interest to give me up." Hawkwood smiled. "I
still owe him four thousand francs."
"Well,
that's all right then. There was me thinking he was being swayed by the thought
of four tons of gold bullion swelling Boney's coffers. How daft is that? I
still don't see why he's so damned fired up about catching Morgan before he
reaches France. Why doesn't he wait till after Morgan gets there and then
denounce the bugger?"
"Because
as soon as he lands, Morgan will disappear into the English enclave.
They're Morgan's people. He has friends there. There's also a good chance the
French will protect him. He delivers Bonaparte twelve million francs and
they'll probably think he's someone worth protecting. Maybe they'll think if
he can do it once, he can do it again."
"He
killed eight Frenchmen. You telling me they won't hold that against him?"
"Morgan
gets to Gravelines
first,
his story is going to be
that they died in the execution of their patriotic duty - that's assuming he
even bothers to mention them. By the time Lasseur gives his version, Morgan
will have become the Emperor's blue-eyed boy. Twelve million francs buys a lot
of favours. And there's no proof he killed them. Who's to say they weren't shot
by redcoats? It'll be Lasseur's word against his and Lasseur wasn't
there."
"So
Lasseur's planning to catch up with Morgan on the high seas?"
"That's
the way of it."
"And
mete out some justice
of his own
?"
Hawkwood
said nothing.
"And
we're going to help him?" Jago pressed.
"You
didn't have to come along," Hawkwood said.
"'Course
I had to come along! Christ, you get these Tomfool ideas into your
head,
someone has to watch your back!"
"And
that's you?"
"Yes,
it's me! It's always bloody me! And, might I say, you've come up with some
crack-brained ideas in your time, but this one takes some beating. You're
willin' to go to all this trouble just so's you can serve notice on a bloody
smuggler?"
"The
damned gold's lost anyway. This way at least I've a chance of making sure
Morgan doesn't profit from it."
"Any
likelihood we can steal it back from Lasseur's clutches?"
"Just
the two of us?"
Hawkwood said
drily. "I doubt it."
"Worth
considerin'.
So Lasseur and his Emperor get
twelve million francs while you get one murdering bastard free trader?"
"Some might call that a bargain."
"Only
if they've lost their bloody wits.
And have you
given any thought to how we'll get home?"
"Lasseur
will see we get back."
"You're
settin' an awful lot of store in the man."
"I
told you, he's worried he'll lose the money I owe him."
Jago
shook his head in exasperation. "You can joke, but you realize if anything
happens to Lasseur and we end up in bloody Verdun or one of those other Frog
prisons, we're well and truly buggered."
"That
why you sent Micah home?"
"I
thought it best that someone back there knows where we are."
"You're
saying he'll come looking if he doesn't hear from us?"
"If
he doesn't hear from
me,
he will." Jago fell silent,
then
said,
"Jesus, this is a rum business. You must really want the bastard."
"I
do," Hawkwood said. "But it's not business. With Morgan, it's
personal."
There
was a rap on the door,
then
a seaman entered bearing a
tray loaded with bread and cold beef, two mugs, a pot of coffee and a bottle of
brandy.
"Avec les compliments de Capitaine Lasseur,
messieurs."
Placing
the tray on the table, the cook departed.
Jago
poured the coffee and added a generous measure of brandy to each mug before
passing one of them across tin- table. "Get that down you."
Hawkwood
took a swallow. The liquid was scalding. He waited for his throat to cool and
then said, "Tell me about Cephus Pepper."
Jago
grimaced. "He's Morgan's right-hand man, though you already knew that. I
heard he used to be first mate on a blackbirder, runnin' slaves to the West
Indies. Ran foul of a rival ship off Havana - back in '02, I think it was.
Lost his arm in a deck fight.
They say he escaped by going
over the side. Not a man you'd want to cross in a hurry, as you found
out."
"How
long's he been with Morgan?"
"Eight
years,
or thereabouts. You think he was there with
Morgan tonight?"
"You
can count on it. You know Morgan, don't you?"
"We've
never met, though I reckon I know enough about him not to turn my back. He
likes to tell folk he's a descendant of Henry Morgan, the buccaneer, which I
bloody doubt. Far as I know, he's the son of a farmer from over Ruckinge way.
Family was in the Trade for years. Morgan's father used to run with the Callis
Court mob. Morgan quit the farm when he was a lad. Rumour was he ran off to sea
to escape the law, but that could be a story he put around. Same way he's
supposed to have been a bo's'n on the
Britannia
;
though that'd explain why he's so good at runnin' things and why a lot of his crew
are former navy men. It's probably why he and Pepper make a good team. He came
back and took over the business when his old man died; built it up from there.
Got no Welsh blood in him at all, unless his great-grandfather was caught
buggering a ewe. He
say
anything about that to
you?"
"He
must have forgotten to mention it," Hawkwood said. "Ever taken
advantage of his services?"