Tregarthur's Prisoners: Book 3 (The Tregarthur's Series)

by Alex Mellanby

  Sam was worried about that too, ‘You think they’ll just chuck us overboard and we have to swim?’

  I’d started to think that would be the plan and it wouldn’t help us to let the prisoners escape. If they couldn’t swim, letting them out, even near to land, would be hopeless. Getting the small boats off the deck and into the water looked difficult. I had to hope that when we released them and most likely they killed all the crew and us, that they would be able to get to shore.

  The captain came on deck and looked at the sky. As we travelled further down the coast the sky had grown darker, huge black clouds hung over the sea, more gathering in the direction we were headed. ‘Storm coming. Don’t you worry, a few more miles and we’ll ship you in on the skiff.’ He pointed to one of the two small wooden boats firmly tied down on the deck and covered with a tarpaulin. ‘It’s a walk to the town but we can’t risk taking us into port.’

  ‘Might get arrested for slave trading?’ I said.

  ‘No, not here, more likely they’d take the ship and the slaves for themselves. Slaving’s fine down here, just not very safe.’ The captain was talking as though he had a cargo of fish, not human beings. ‘We could try to sell them off but we’d never get a good price.’ He growled as though it was a terrible problem. ‘No, we have to lug them all round to India to make it worth our while.’

  I could see that he was winding me up. He wanted me to try something. Maybe it would be easier to throw us off. I held back, grabbing Sam’s arm, stopping him.

  ‘Terrible shame that,’ I said with a smile.

  He gave me a very confused look. ‘Get ready to leave, should be this evening, as it gets dark.’ And he left to shout more orders.

  Sam and I went below. There wasn’t anything to pack. We weren’t going to take our disguises. Mine had been thrown overboard because of the smell of vomit.

  So we just talked about our plan. Sam would try to hang on to the keys after he had taken the prisoners their food that afternoon. The idea was that when we headed into shore he’d run down and set them free.

  ‘Try to get them to wait until we are close in,’ I said. ‘If we jump off we might be able to at least save ourselves.’ I didn’t think any of this was going to work.

  ‘SAIL OFF THE STARBOARD QUARTER,’ came the frantic shout from the man in the crow’s nest.

  ‘What’s her sign?’ the captain called back.

  We ran up on deck. The lookout was peering through the brass telescope. It was several minutes before he called back down: ‘Englishman, looks like a naval frigate.’

  ‘Helm due south,’ the captain shouted. ‘Run up everything we’ve got. We have to run the Cape.’

  There was pandemonium on deck. Every sail was unfurled from bags stored below decks. Every crewman was sent into the rigging, and that included me. Soon the two masts were covered in sets of sails, sails out over the front in three lines fixed to the spoke of wood jutting over the front of the boat. The prow of the boat raced across the waves even though there was little wind.

  ‘Flying now sir,’ came the call from the man at the wheel.

  The captain just shook his head.

  The crew kept looking back, looking at the following ship.

  ‘How do you know it’s after us?’ I asked when we had all come down onto the deck.

  ‘I don’t,’ he snarled. ‘But I’m not taking the chance. Don’t get friendly ships out here. Our only hope is to escape into the seas around the Cape.’ He stared down at me. ‘That’s it for dropping you off here. And don’t think anyone is safe when we hit those seas. It may be calm out here but the barometer’s dropping.’ The captain turned and tapped an instrument that had been fixed to the cabin side, under cover. The needle moved down a fraction.

  ‘If it’s the Navy won’t they just set the prisoners free?’ Sam’s question sounded too simple.

  The captain gave a sneering laugh. ‘It’s a maybe. They’ve have been told to stop the slaving, but not what to do with the slaves. Most of these Navy boats don’t want to take them on board.’

  ‘What will they do?’ Sam asked and I didn’t want to know the answer.

  ‘Sink us all.’ With that he stormed off.

  I tried to ask one of the crewmen what he meant about the barometer and the seas and why we wouldn’t be safe.

  ‘Blown up,’ he said. ‘Either blown up by the storm or blown up by the guns of that thing.’ He pointed back to the other boat. Even now it seemed closer, bigger. ‘If the barometer’s dropping it means a storm so it could be both.’

  Sam and I looked at each other. The crew had all taken up pistols. They hadn’t given one to us, not that we would have known how to load it or shoot it. It wouldn’t be safe to unlock the prison even if we could get to the key. Letting them loose here would be a disaster.

  ‘Have to let them get on with it, see if we get out of this,’ I said to Sam before we were both ordered off to other tasks.

  We had reached the end of the land and turned into the wide sea ahead. No sign of anything in the distance, that is, no land in front of us, only sea. As we turned the wind grew stronger and the waves grew higher. Our boat leapt through the water, with a loud hiss as the prow broke through each wave followed by a bang as we landed on the other side. We seemed to be going so fast but the other ship was faster, although not by much. All that day we crashed through the waves, the wind strengthening with every hour that passed. Through the moonlight we sailed on. Silhouetted by the moon we were easy to follow. The next day hardly dawned. There was a dark and gloomy sky. Stinging drifts of rain blew in over the deck. We seemed to be holding our distance.

  The crewmen started pointing ahead at the sky. Up ahead a huge dark funnel of cloud swirled in the sky. Beneath the sea boiled in foaming mountains. The wind direction changed, our sails flapped uselessly, the motion of the boat stopped.

  ‘Tornado,’ one of them almost whispered. ‘It’s coming.’

  ‘Turn, TURN AWAY,’ the crew shouted.

  It was too late. Behind us the naval ship was closing. It had made so much faster speed under the coming storm. Better sailors, I imagined. But there was no time for imagination.

  A puff of smoke left the bows of the pursuer. Strange, I thought, until the wiz of a cannon ball passed over our heads, splashing into the sea. The next shot didn’t miss, crashing into the side of our boat, crushing the wooden railing. A splintered piece of wood flung through the air, hitting a man who fell to the ground, blood all around him. No one helped.

  For a second it seemed so quiet, no one moved, no one spoke, everyone stared ahead at the twisting mass of cloud, we were in the path of this monster storm. In sudden darkness the tornado came at us with a roar. The screaming wind ripped the sails from our mast.

  The naval ship had let fly one last broadside before it turned away, out of the weather, making for safety nearer to the coast. The broadside hit at the same time as the spiralling wind.

  With a hideous crack the forward mast broke in two, whipped by the gale the ropes lashed across the deck. Men and sails went overboard. The mast hung over the side, dragging the ship sideways, threatening to capsize us, drown us all.

  ‘The prisoners,’ I yelled at Sam and we lurched across the deck making for the hold, crashing down the stairway, the terrified wails coming from the captives almost loud enough to blot out the storm.

  ‘Quick, the keys,’ I shouted.

  Sam dived for the side, to where the keys were stored. The boat heaved to one side and Sam slid forward, smashing into a heavy beam, he lay still holding the keys.

  I scrambled over to him, ‘Sam, Sam,’ I shouted. He didn’t move so I grabbed the keys from his hand, turned and crawled towards the cells. One man stood, his hands grasping the bars and fury in his face, the man who had tried to escape, their leader. Even in the midst
of that storm I could feel his power.

  With shaking hands I turned the lock. There were more locks to open, the prisoners had been manacled. I passed the bunch of keys to the leader. One man, set free, dived at me, his hands around my throat, but with a shouted cry their leader pulled him off.

  Again the boat listed wildly. We were all thrown across the hold, battered by loosened barrels and fragments of wood. One of the cannon balls had crashed straight into the prison cells, there were dead bodies, men holding on to women and crying for help. There was no help. Planks on one side of the boat started to rip away, nails springing out like gun shot. We were open to the full force of the sea and wind. I hung on to the bars, watching the chaos around me. Sam slipped past as we tilted. I grabbed him, he seemed alive but he slid from my grasp, tumbling into the pile of broken wood and barrels. Would he survive or any of us survive?

  The twisting swirling clouds of the tornado snaked down at us, tearing everything away from the ship. Huge decking boards flew off in the howling gale, tossed high into the black sky as if they were twigs. A crewman tried to get down below to us, a coil of rope from the broken mast snaked up in the wind, coiled around him and with a cry he was launched in the air and thrown overboard.

  There was no chance to move. How long did we hold on there? The worst of the tornado passed but there was no let-up in the storm. The end of the day must have come, it was difficult to tell with the dark clouds hiding any sunlight. It had felt hot in the days before, now we were drenched in sea water that felt so cold. My hands were numb. I wrapped my arms around the bars to get a better hold. My face came right up against the leader of the prisoners. His eyes blazed with anger as he spat some words which blew away in the wind. I tried to nod, it was a useless gesture. I deserved to die on this boat. I’d done nothing to save these people, we were all going to perish in this hellish wooden coffin.

  My arms felt so weak, I couldn’t hold on much longer. I thought of Jenna, how we had been together and started to make a new life in the caveman world, how we had survived the Black Death, survived all the horrors that Miss Tregarthur had thrown at us. It was more than I could bear, my head slumped forward, exhausted I slid downwards, soon the waves breaking through the ship’s side would carry Sam and me away.

  A strong hand grabbed me tightly, painfully, pulling me back. That hand took mine and held it to the bars. I saw his face again. He slapped me hard and squeezed my hands against the iron rails. He wasn’t going to let me give up. This man from the kidnapped people wasn’t a slave, he was a leader, and whatever he might do to Sam and me later, he wasn’t going to let us slip away and die that easily.

  It seemed as though the strength from that man fought against the storm. Still the wind howled and the waves smashed through the holes in the ship, but slowly, hour by hour, the force of the weather calmed. A bruised purple light of dawn crept through the fractured planks.

  I must have dozed through anxious exhaustion. I woke again to sunlight, sunlight and a hostile group of men and women standing over us. The day was already hot.

  ‘Are we dead?’ Sam’s weak voice came from behind a barrel. He was wedged against the ship’s side.

  ‘Not yet,’ I muttered. ‘Maybe soon.’

  Becalmed

  -8-

  Calm didn’t mean safe. The boat listed at a wild angle, dragged over by one broken mast hanging over the side.

  I moved carefully towards the daylight. I was below the remains of the deck and staring straight down at the sea, now so calm. Looking out there was nothing, only the sea, no sign of land, no way to know where we were. Behind me in the wrecked boat was a chaos of injured and dead bodies. There had been more than 50 people held in this ship, held for sale. I could only see maybe four or five people moving.

  There were noises above me. I tried to climb up to the deck level. Perhaps there was something to see on the other side. The stairway had been smashed to pieces. I jumped up and tried to pull myself through the hole on to the sloping deck.

  A dark face above me appeared. He held his hand up, stopping me. I wasn’t going to argue and dropped back down.

  ‘Where’s the crew?’ Sam said weakly as he squeezed out from the barrels.

  I shrugged. We heard a gunshot, followed by a splash and a shouted cry of victory. I guessed the prisoners had found the crew.

  While we waited Sam and I tried to help the injured. There was nothing we could do about their injuries, no first aid kit down here and they were doing better than we could have done. One of the barrels rolling around in the hold contained fresh water. The prisoners still had some drinking cups they had brought aboard with them. We passed water round. Hostile looks were all I got. I wondered what would happen when they had finished off the other crewmen.

  A face appeared through the broken planks, and a shout with a wave. The man wanted Sam and I to follow him.

  ‘Long swim for us,’ I said to Sam trying to laugh, it didn’t work.

  We clambered onto the remains of the deck. Nearly everything had been washed away.

  Their leader stood propped against the rail, the boat had tilted at an even steeper angle. Another four or five men huddled around him. His grim face broke when he saw us and he wrapped me in a hug. I didn’t think I deserved it.

  He pointed at his chest. ‘Bamidele,’ he said.

  ‘Alvin,’ I pointed at myself, and, ‘Sam,’ I said, putting my hand on his shoulder.

  Bamidele, who soon became Bami, pointed towards the front of the boat. The stairway down to the captain’s cabin gaped open. The hatch blown away. Bami gestured that other crewmen were down there. He held up one of the guns they must have taken from the crew and I wondered if it had fired the shot we heard. Bami pointed at me and jabbed his finger, making it clear that he wanted me to go forward and investigate. I looked around at the others, one held his bloodied arm, perhaps that was from the shot. Not much use shooting one man in a group when the gun only had one shot. I could see that Bamidele didn’t want to let anyone else get hit. He pointed again and made it clear with his hand that I should talk to them.

  I went forward. A shot whizzed past me. Bami was right to stay away.

  ‘Oi, stop firing,’ I shouted. ‘It’s Alvin.’

  There was a grunt from below. I took that to mean I could go down. Sam tried to join me and I pushed him back.

  ‘Coming down,’ I called, just in case.

  Down below I met the captain. Around him were three other crewmen. I could tell that two of them were badly injured, one with a broken leg. The captain had a large gash across his forehead, his eye had swollen closed.

  ‘What do they want?’ grunted the captain.

  ‘I guess they don’t want to get shot,’ I said as lightly as I could. This lot were dangerously scared. I didn’t think it would take much for them to shoot me. Especially if they knew we had set the prisoners free.

  ‘Friends with them now are you?’ One of the other crew members shook his pistol at me.

  ‘No shot left, anyway,’ the captain grunted again and threw his own pistol away.

  The others held onto their guns, so I guessed they were still loaded.

  I had no idea what to do. Hostage negotiation wasn’t something that Dad had taught me but I had to try. I started to speak and my words came out in a high pitched croaky squeak. It wouldn’t do, I had to sound firm and confident.

  I turned away, coughed to clear my throat and tried again, ‘Bamidele says you should come on deck.’ It sounded better and I pointed upwards although the deck was mostly broken up.

  ‘Bami- what?’ spat the captain.

  ‘He’s the leader of the men you captured and he wants you to come up.’

  ‘Bet he does. Wants us to come up and kill us.’

  I thought the captain was probably right. I shrugged. ‘No other c
hoice.’

  ‘No, I think we’ll stay comfortable down here,’ the captain tried to joke. They certainly weren’t comfortable. ‘You tell that Bami-bloke they can drop us off when they get to a nice port.’ That did get a sort of half laugh from the others.

  I turned and scrambled back up to the deck. I passed the galley. A cannon ball must have smashed through the ship’s side and destroyed the place. With the slope of the ship everything had fallen into the sea. There was nothing left. No food.

  Getting back on deck I shook my head at Bami. He turned to the others and there was an argued few minutes. Bami pushed me aside and made for the hatch.

  ‘No!’ I shouted and held him back. He was going to sacrifice himself. I knew he wouldn’t understand but I kept on talking anyway. ‘Nail some of the planks across the hatch. They can’t get out, they’ve no food, no water, they’re injured. It won’t be long before they give up.’ I picked up a piece of planking from the broken deck and tried show him my plan.

  A slow smile spread across Bami’s face. He’d got it.

  It didn’t look easy and it wasn’t, but in the hold the barrel that had jammed against Sam was full of nails. There were ships tools in lockers in another hold at the front of the ship. Sam seemed almost as good at woodwork as he was with food, which didn’t mean he was brilliant. He and I nailed together a sort of new hatch – there was plenty of broken wood to use. We slid it quickly across the gap down to the captain’s cabin and nailed it in place, with a couple of spars of wood across the whole thing. No one was going to get through that easily. The only other way out for the men below was to jump into the sea through the splintered planks.