by Wilbur Smith
Close by, Sir Francis was absorbed in his own duel and had not seen Hal's deadly predicament. Aboli had only the stump of the pike-shaft in his hand no weapon with which to take on a man like Cornelius Schreuder. He saw Hal, his immature strength already spent by his earlier exertions, wilting visibly before the overwhelming force of these attacks.
Aboli knew by Schreuder's expression when he judged his moment and gathered himself to make the kill. It was certain, inevitable, for Hal could never withstand the thunderbolt which was ready to loose itself upon him.
Aboli moved with the speed of a striking black cobra, faster even than Schreuder could send home his final thrust. He darted up behind Hal, and lifted the oak club. He struck Hal down with a crack over his ear, rapping him sharply across the temple.
Schreuder was amazed to have his victim drop to the ground, senseless, just as he was about to launch the death thrust. While he hesitated Aboli dropped the shattered pike-shaft and stood protectively over Hal's inert body.
"You cannot kill a fallen man, Colonel. Not on the honour of a Dutch officer. ""You black Satan!" Schreuder roared with frustration. "If I can't kill the puppy, at least I can kill you."
Aboli showed him his empty hands, holding up his pale palms before Schreuder's eyes. "I am unarmed," he said softly.
"I would spare an unarmed Christian." Schreuder glared. "But you are a godless animal." He drew back his blade and aimed the point at the centre of Aboli's chest, where the muscles glistened with sweat in the sunlight. Sir Francis Courtney stepped lightly in front of him, ignoring the colonel's blade.
"On the other hand, Colonel Schreuder, I am a Christian gentleman," he said smoothly, "and I yield myself and my men to your grace." He reversed his own sword and proffered the hilt to Schreuder.
Schreuder glared at him, speechless with fury and frustration. He made no move to accept Sir Francis's sword, but placed the point of his weapon on the other man's throat and pricked him lightly. "Stand aside, or by God I'll cut you down, Christian or heathen." The knuckles of his right hand turned white on the hilt of his weapon as he prepared himself to make good the threat.
Another hail made him hesitate. "Come now, Colonel, I am loath to interfere in a matter of honour. If you murder the brother of my bosom, Franky Courtney, then who will lead us to the treasure from your fine galleon the Standvastigheid?"
Schreuder's gaze flicked to the face of Cumbrae as he came striding up to them, the great blood-streaked claymore in his hand.
"The cargo?" Schreuder demanded. "We have captured this pirate's nest. We will find the treasure is here."
"Now don't you be so certain of that." The Buzzard waggled his bushy red beard sadly. "If I know my dear brother in Christ, Franky, he'll have squirrel led the best part of it away somewhere." His eye glinted greedily from under his bonnet. "No, Colonel, you are going to have to keep him alive, at least until we have been able to recompense ourselves with a handful of silver rix-dollars for doing God's work this day."
When Hal recovered consciousness, he found his father kneeling over him. He whispered, "What happened, Father? Did we win?" His father shook his head, without looking into his eyes, and made a fuss of wiping the sweat and soot from his son's face with a strip of grubby cloth torn from the hem of his own shirt.
"No, Hal. We did not win." Hal looked beyond him, and it all came back. He saw that a pitiful few of the Resolution's crew had survived. They were huddled together around where Hal lay, guarded by green-jackets with loaded muskets. The rest were scattered where they had fallen in front of the gun pits or were draped in death upon the parapets.
He saw that Aboli was tending Daniel, binding up the wound in his chest with the red bandanna. Daniel was sitting up and seemed to have recovered somewhat, although clearly he had lost a great deal of blood.
His face beneath the grime of battle was as white as the ashes of last night's camp-fire.
Hal turned his head and saw Lord Cumbrae and Colonel Schreuder standing nearby, in deep and earnest conversation. The Buzzard broke off at last and shouted an order to one of his men. "Geordie, bring the slave chains from the Gull! We don't want Captain Courtney to leave us again." The sailor hurried back to the beach, and the Buzzard and the colonel came to where the prisoners squatted under the muskets of their guards.
"Captain Courtney." Schreuder addressed Sir Francis ominously. "I am arresting you and your crew for piracy on the high seas. You will be taken to Good Hope to stand trial on those charges."
"I protest, sir." Sir Francis stood up with dignity. "I demand that you treat my men with the consideration due to prisoners of war."
"There is no war, Captain," Schreuder told him icily. "Hostilities between the Republic of Holland and England ceased under treaty some months ago."
Sir Francis stared at him, aghast, while he recovered from the shock of this news. "I was unaware that a peace had been concluded. I acted in good faith," he said at last, "but in any event I was sailing under a commission from His Majesty."
"You spoke of this Letter of Marque during our previous meeting. Will you consider me presumptuous if I insist on having sight of the document?" Schreuder asked.
"My commission from His Majesty is in my sea-chest in my hut." Sir Francis pointed into the stockade, where many of the huts had been destroyed by cannon fire. "If you will allow me I will bring it to you."
"Please don't discommode yourself, Franky my old friend." The Buzzard clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll fetch it for you." He strode away and ducked into the low doorway of the hut that Sir Francis had indicated.
Schreuder rounded on him again. "Where are you holding your hostages, sir? Governor van de Velde and his poor wife, where are they?"
"The Governor must still be in his stockade with the other hostages, his wife and the captain of the galleon. I have not seen them since the beginning of the fight."
Hal stood up shakily, holding the cloth to his head. "The Governor's wife has taken refuge from the fighting in a cave in the hillside, up there."
"How do you know that?" Schreuder asked sharply.
"For her own safety, I led her there myself." Hal spoke up boldly, avoiding his father's stern eye. "I was returning from the cave when I ran into you in the forest, Colonel."
Schreuder looked up the hill, torn by duty and the desire to rush to the aid of the woman whose rescue was, for him at least, the main object of this expedition. But at that moment the Buzzard swaggered out of the hut. He carried a roll of parchment tied with a scarlet ribbon. The royal seals of red wax dangled from it.
Sir Francis smiled with satisfaction and relief. "There you have it, Colonel. I demand that you treat me and my crew as honourable prisoners, captured in a fair fight."
Before he reached them, the Buzzard paused and unrolled the parchment. He held up the document at arm's length, and turned it so that all could see the curlicue script penned by some clerk of the Admiralty in black indian ink. At last, with a jerk of his head, he summoned one of his own seamen. He took the loaded pistol from the man's hand, and blew upon the burning match in the lock. Then he grinned at Sir Francis and applied the flame to the foot of the document in his hand.
Sir Francis stood appailled as the flame caught and the parchment began to curl and blacken as the pale yellow flame ran up it. "By God, Cumbrae, you treacherous bastard!" He started forward, but the tip of Schreuder's blade lay on his chest.
"It would give me the greatest pleasure to thrust home," he murmured. "For your own sake, do not try my patience any further, sir."
"That swine is burning my commission."
"I can see nothing," Schreuder told him, his back deliberately turned to the Buzzard. "Nothing, except a notorious pirate standing before me with the blood of innocent men still warm and wet on his hands."
Cumbrae watched the parchment burn, a great wide grin splitting his ginger whiskers. He passed the crackling sheet from hand to hand as the heat reached his fingertips, turning it to allow the flames to consume ev
ery scrap.
"I have heard you prate of your honour, sit," Sir Francis flared at Schreuder. "It seems that that is an illusory commodity."
"Honour?" Schreuder smiled coldly. "Do I hear a pirate speak to me of honour? It cannot be. Surely my ears play me false."
Cumbrae allowed the flames to lick the tips of his fingers before he dropped the last blackened shred of the document to the earth and stamped on the ashes, crushing them to powder. Then he came up to Schreuder. "I am afraid Franky's up to his tricks again. I can find no Letter of Marque signed by the royal hand."
"I suspected as much." Schreuder sheathed his sword. "I place the prisoners in your charge, my lord Cumbrae. I must see to the welfare of the hostages." He glanced at Hal. "You will take me immediately to the place where you left the Governor's wife." He looked round at his Dutch sergeant who stood attentively at his shoulder. "Bind his hands behind his back and put a rope round his neck. Lead him on a leash like the mangy puppy he is."
Colonel Schreuder delayed the rescue expedition while a search was conducted for his lost wig. His vanity would not allow him go to Katinka in a state of disarray. They found it lying in the forest through which he had chased Hal. It was covered with damp earth and dead leaves, but Schreuder beat it against his thigh then -rearranged the curls carefully before placing it on his head. His beauty and dignity restored, he nodded at Hal. "Show us the way!"
By the time they came out on the terrace in front of the cave Hal was a sorry object. Both hands were trussed behind his back and the sergeant had another rope round his neck. His face was blackened with dirt and gunsmoke and his clothing torn and smeared with blood diluted with his own sweat. Despite his exhaustion and distress, his concern was still for Katinka, and he felt a tremor of alarm as he went into the cave.
There was no sign of her. I cannot live if anything has happened to her, he thought, but aloud he told Schreuder, "I left Mevrouw van de Velde here. No ill can have befallen her."
"For your sake, you had better be correct in that." The threat was more terrifying for having been uttered so softly. Then Schreuder raised his voice. "Mevrouw van de Velde!" he called. "Madam, you are safe. It is Colonel Schreuder, come to rescue you!" The vines veiling the entrance to the cave rustled softly, and Katinka stepped out timidly from behind them. Her huge violet eyes were brimming with tears, and her face was pale and tragic, adding to her appeal. "Oh!"she choked with emotion. Then, dramatically, she held out both hands towards Cornelius Schreuder. "You came! You kept your promise!" She flew to him and stood on tiptoe to fling both her slim arms round his neck. "I knew you would come! I knew you would never leave me to be humiliated and molested by these dreadful criminals."
For one moment Schreuder was taken aback by her embrace, then he folded her in his arms, shielding and comforting her as she sobbed against the ribbons and sashes that covered his chest. "If you have suffered the slightest affront, I swear I will avenge it a hundredfold."
"My ordeal has been too terrible to relate," she whimpered.
"This one?" Schreuder looked at Hal and demanded, "Was he one of those who mistreated you?"
Katinka looked sideways at Hal, her cheek still pressed against Schreuder's chest. Her eyes narrowed viciously and a small sadistic smile twisted her luscious lips. "He was the worst of all." She sobbed. "I cannot bring myself to tell you what disgusting things he said to me, or how he has harassed and humiliated me." Her voice broke. "I only thank God for the strength that he gave me to hold out against that man's importunity."
Schreuder seemed to swell with the strength of his fury. Gently he set Katinka aside, then turned on Hal. He bunched his right fist and punched him hard in the side of his head. Hal was taken by surprise, and staggered back. Schreuder followed him swiftly, and his next punch caught Hal in the pit of his stomach, driving the wind from his lungs and doubling him over.
"How dare you insult and mistreat a high-born lady?" Schreuder was shaking with fury. He had lost all control of his temper.
Hal's forehead was almost touching his knees, as he gasped and wheezed to recover his breath. Schreuder aimed a kick at his face, but Hal saw it coming and jerked his head aside. The boot glanced off his shoulder, and sent him reeling backwards.
Schreuder's rage boiled over. "You are not fit to lick the soles of this lady's slippers." He braced himself to punch again, but Hal was too quick. Although his hands were tied behind his back he stepped forward to meet Schreuder and aimed a kick at his groin, but because he was hampered by his bonds the kick lacked power.
Schreuder was more startled than hurt. "By God, puppy, you go too far!" Hal was still off-balance, and Schreuder's next blow knocked his legs out from under him. He collapsed and Schreuder set on him, using both feet, his boots thumping into Hal's curled-up body. Hal grunted and rolled over, trying desperately to avoid the barrage of kicks that slogged into him.
"Yes! Oh, yes!" Katinka trilled with excitement. "Punish him for what he has done to me." She goaded Schreuder, driving his violent temper to its limit. "Make him suffer, as I was made to do."
Hal knew in his heart that she was forced to reject him now in front of this man and even in his hurt he forgave her. He doubled over to protect his more vulnerable parts, taking most of the kicks on his shoulders and thighs, but he could not ride them all. One caught him in the side of the mouth and blood trickled down his chin.
Katinka squeaked and clapped her hands to see it flow. "I hate him. Yes! Hurt him! Smash his pretty, insolent face!" But the blood seemed to bring Schreuder to his senses again. With an obvious effort, he curbed his wild temper and stepped back, breathing heavily and still trembling with rage. "That is just a small taste of what is in store for him. Believe me, Mevrouw, he will be paid out in full when we reach Good Hope." He turned back to Katinka and bowed. "Please let me take you back to the safety of the ship that waits in the bay."
Katinka gave a pathetic little cry, her fingers on her soft pink lips. "Oh, Colonel, I fear I shall swoon." She swayed on her feet, and Schreuder leapt forward to steady her. She leant against him. "I do not think my legs can carry me."
He swept her into his arms, and set off down the hill carrying her lightly. She clung to him as though she were a child being taken to her bed.
"Come along, gallows-bait!" The sergeant yanked Hal to his feet by the loop around his neck, and led him, still bleeding, down towards the camp. "Better for you had the Colonel finished you off here and now. The executioner at Good Hope is famous. He's an artist, he is." He tugged hard on the rope. "He'll have some sport with you, I'll warrant."
They brought the chains to the beach where the survivors of the Resolution's crew, both Awounded and unharmed, were squatting under guard in the blazing sun.
They carried the first set to Sir Francis. "It's good to see you again, Captain." The sailor with the irons in his hands stood over him. "I have thought of you every day since last we met." on the other hand, I have never given you another thought, Sam Bowles." Sir Francis barely glanced at him, but scorn was in his voice.
"It's Boatswain Sam Bowles, now. His lordship has promoted me, "said Sam, with an insolent grin.
"Then I wish the Buzzard joy of his new boatswain. "Tis a marriage made in heaven."
"Hold out your hands, Captain. Let's see how high and mighty you are with bracelets of iron on you, Sam Bowles gloated. "By Christ, you'll never know how much pleasure this gives me." He snapped the shackles onto Sir Francis's wrists and ankles, and with the key screwed them so tight that they bit into his flesh. "I hope that fits you as well as your fancy cloak ever did." He stepped back and spat suddenly into Sir Francis's face, then burst out laughing. "I give you my solemn promise that, the day they reef your top sails for you, I will be at the Parade at Good Hope to wish you Godspeed. I wonder what way they will send you. Do you think it will be the fire, or will they hang and draw you?" Sam chuckled again and went on to Hal. "Good day to you, young Master Henry. It's your humble servant Boatswain Sam Bowles come to tend to y
our needs."
