Sebastian Darke: Prince of Pirates (18 page)

'I thought you assured me that nobody would know of our expedition,' growled Cornelius.

Jenna took out her own spyglass and studied the ship for a moment. 'It's the
Marauder
,' she muttered. 'Captain Trencherman's ship.' The contempt in her voice was evident.

'Who's he?' asked Sebastian.

'Another captain out of Ramalat,' she told him. 'My biggest rival, and one of the richest men in the port. He seems to have made it his personal quest to acquire as many ships as possible. Owns a whole fleet of them.'

'There's no crime in being prosperous,' observed Cornelius.

'No. But nobody seems to know where his riches have come from and he isn't too fussy about how he acquires ships or who he steps on in the process. When my father lost his legs, Trencherman did everything he could to persuade me to sell the
Sea Witch
to him. But my father always hated him, and I was determined to chance my hand at being captain. Since then he's done everything he can to hinder me.' She lowered the spyglass. 'But I'm puzzled as to how he found out about this trip. There's not a man in my crew who would betray a word about our purpose to that old villain.'

'Perhaps they didn't have to,' snarled Cornelius. He gave Sebastian an accusing look. 'Perhaps somebody has simply hired the captain's ship and crew, just as we have yours.'

Sebastian stared at him, not understanding at first. And then it dawned on him. 'Not Leonora!' he groaned.

'Yes, of course Leonora. Who else?'

Jenna looked at Sebastian with interest. 'I doubt that Captain Trencherman would be interested in hiring out his ship. It's not as if he needs the money.'

'Yes, but I'm sure Leonora would have no problem persuading him. She's an enchantress.'

'Oh, the woman you spoke of? She's still following you?'

Sebastian spread his arms in a gesture of helplessness. 'It would seem so,' he admitted.

Cornelius stroked his chin with one hand. 'Captain Jenna, what would it cost for you to turn round and give the
Marauder
a broadside with your cannons? Perhaps we could send that witch to the bottom of the ocean. Even
she'd
have trouble weaving her web of intrigue and devilment down there.'

But Jenna was shaking her head. 'I couldn't do that for any price,' she said. 'Captain Trencherman may be a spineless, lying jellyfish but he's just doing his job. I cannot simply attack him for no reason other than that I do not like him.'

'Hmm. Pity. Can he catch up with us?'

'Not if I order full sails and tell the crew to push her to the limit.'

'Let's do that then,' concluded Cornelius. 'And in the meantime we'll set our minds to thinking of some way we can get that woman off our tail once and for all.'

'Perhaps Sebastian does not want that,' said Jenna. She gave him a sly look. 'Perhaps he would rather slow down so that he might speak to the woman who has enchanted him.'

'That's ridiculous,' said Sebastian; but in his heart he was experiencing a curious mixture of emotions. Unable to hide them, he turned on his heel and started walking away.

'Where are you going?' Cornelius shouted after him.

'To check on Max,' he replied. 'I've been too ill to even think of him since we left shore.' He tried to keep his expression blank, but in his chest his heart was banging like a war drum. Leonora was coming after him. Perhaps, before much longer, he would see her again . . .

Sebastian clambered down the wooden rungs of the ladder into the cargo hold. He paused halfway down to scan the various crates, boxes and piles of equipment, but for the moment at least he could detect no sign of the buffalope, other than a certain unpleasant smell that drifted up to him, a pungent mingling of dung and vomit.

Sebastian remembered that Max had been spectacularly unwell when he was being lifted aboard. He had promised to visit him but had been so caught up with his own sickness he'd simply not been up to the task of tending to his faithful buffalope. He frowned. Max would doubtless have something to say on the matter.

Sebastian's feet touched down on the rough boards of the hold and he turned to look about him.

'Max?' he ventured. 'Are you down here?'

The only reply was a pitiful moan that seemed to come from behind a huge stack of barrels. Sebastian approached and peered round them cautiously. There was Max, slumped in a corner, lying on a patch of hay that somebody must have thrown down for him. He was clearly not at all well. His eyes were rimmed with red and his beard was matted with dried vomit. He looked very, very unhappy.

'Oh, so you've finally bothered to make an appearance, have you?' he said, in a voice as cold as a Golmiran ice field. 'I thought perhaps you'd abandoned ship and swum back to Ramalat.'

Sebastian tried his best to ignore the jibe. He unhitched a gourd of fresh water from over his shoulder. 'I thought you might like a drink,' he said meekly.

'How very thoughtful. The fact that I've lain here all night, parched to the point of unconsciousness, never occurred to you, I suppose.'

'I've been rather ill myself,' Sebastian assured him.

'Ill?
You've
been ill?' Max tossed his head towards the far corner of the hold, where a pool of something horrible was slowly congealing. 'That's what you call ill,' he said. 'I must have coughed up three times my own weight over there. At one point during the night I thought I was dying. Actually dying! No doubt you were up in your cabin drinking wine and eating a slap-up meal.'

'Not at all! I just told you, Cornelius and I were as sick as a pair of mutts. It's only this morning that we've felt strong enough to even walk.' He unstoppered the water and held it out to Max. 'Here, have some of this and then we'll get you cleaned up a bit.'

'Hmph!' grunted Max. But he dutifully opened his mouth and accepted the stream of water flowing from the neck of the gourd. He drank greedily, gulping down mouthful after mouthful, before he nodded that he'd had enough. Sebastian pulled a piece of rag from his pocket, soaked it in water and began to clean up the buffalope's face.

Max regarded him the while with mournful brown eyes. 'I
hate
it down here,' he said. 'It's boring. I don't even have a view.'

'I appreciate that. But this is where Jenna said you had to go. She won't allow you up on deck.'

Max's expression became even more disgruntled. 'You mean I'm stuck down here for the entire trip? That can't be right. Surely there must be laws about this kind of thing. Cruelty to buffalopes, that's what it is! I wouldn't leave an
animal
in conditions like this!'

'Max, you
are
an animal. You keep forgetting that.'

'When I say "animal", I mean something thick and primitive, not a sophisticated creature like myself. I need stimulation of some kind. Music, perhaps, or an adventure story.'

'I wasn't aware that you liked music,' said Sebastian.

'It would be something to pass the time,' moaned Max. 'The way things are down here, even some of your abysmal jokes would be welcome.'

'Well, thanks very much,' said Sebastian. 'It's good to know that you'll turn to me as a last resort.'

'Don't be so touchy! You've said yourself that you were never cut out to be a jester. And you needn't think wearing a different hat is going to turn you into a sailor overnight.'

'Do you like it?' Sebastian tilted the tricorn to a rakish angle. 'Jenna gave it to me.'

Max made a face. 'Oh, did she now? I'm not sure I approve of that one, marching around, shouting orders. "Stick that buffalope in the hold!" How'd she like it if somebody trussed her up in a harness and dumped her down here in the dark?'

'Max, she
is
the captain, and on a ship the captain's word is law.'

'I might have known I'd get no sympathy from you.' Max snorted and shook his head. 'Well,' he said, 'what's been happening? If I can't be up there, you'll have to be my eyes and ears.'

So Sebastian settled himself down and recounted everything he could remember. He told Max about Captain Jenna and what had happened to her father. He told him about the strange sunken city of the Angel's Lair and he described the horrible bloody attack of the kelfers. Finally he mentioned that Captain Trencherman's ship was following them and that it was almost certainly carrying Leonora.

'Not her again!' growled Max. 'She's like a bad smell, that one. Follows you everywhere.'

'Tell me about it,' sighed Sebastian. 'She is bit of a nuisance.'

Max stared at him in disbelief. 'I'd say she's considerably more than that. Hideous, rotten old witch . . .'

Sebastian was aware that Max was watching him slyly, waiting for some kind of outburst at this description; and though he felt like objecting, he somehow managed to rein himself back. Max wasn't fooled though. 'So you've still got her stuck into you like a thorn,' he observed. 'We have got to do something about that enchantment. Otherwise who knows where it might lead us? Cornelius and I will simply not be able to trust you.'

'That's ridiculous!' cried Sebastian. But even as he said it, he knew in his heart that Max had a point. He no longer felt as though he had any free will of his own. But what was he to do? He was a prisoner of her witchcraft and sometimes, it had to said, a most willing one—

Sebastian started as a sound came to him from above, a deep, distant, booming noise.

'What's that?' gasped Max.

'I'm not sure,' said Sebastian; but he had an idea that it was the sound of gunfire. He had thought that the
Sea Witch
was out of range of the
Marauder
's cannons, but even so, he knew that this needed to be investigated. He got to his feet and hurried towards the ladder.

'Wait! Where are you going?' protested Max. 'You can't just leave me down here!'

'What do you want me to do?' countered Sebastian. 'Carry you?'

Max considered this for a moment. 'No offence, young master, but I don't think you're up to it. Perhaps if you were to bring down some sailors . . .'

But Sebastian had already started to climb.

Clambering out onto the deck, he saw what looked like the entire crew gathered at the stern of the ship and looking back towards the
Marauder
. Sebastian shouldered his way through the crowd until he found Cornelius, standing on the lid of a barrel and studying the scene through his spyglass.

'What's going on?' he asked.

'Looks like somebody is doing our dirty work for us,' said Cornelius, not without a certain smug satisfaction. He handed the spyglass to Sebastian, who lifted it to his eye. Now he could see that a third ship had appeared on the horizon and was sailing alongside the
Marauder
, only a short distance off her port side. As Sebastian watched, tiny puffs of smoke belched from the hull of the new ship, and corresponding explosions rippled across the deck of the
Marauder
. From this distance it seemed almost polite, but after a few moments the sound of the guns came rolling like thunder across the surface of the water and there was no disguising the power of them.