They were getting closer.
...
Bill Prentor was going to die in fifty-one minutes time. Of course, he did not know this right now though. Currently, he was situated in the crow’s nest of the Nemesis with a smile on his weather-beaten face. He was happy because he had survived another battle. Bill had never really wanted to be a pirate. But he couldn’t really remember a time when he wasn’t one. Sure, he vaguely recalled a life on land as a very young child, but as soon as his face began to sprout hair, he felt that he needed to leave his village to achieve any further growth. So young Bill headed towards the docks and soon found himself aboard a Navy frigate. After five years of relentless brutality and consistently low pay, he jumped ship with dreams of rollicking adventures and wealth in the grand life of piracy. He sighed. Reality was different. Oh, there was treasure all right, but there were few chances to spend it. Instead he was stuck up high in this crow’s nest with the prospect of more mouldy food, and frequent encounters with death. Some adventure!
Bill was now twelve minutes nearer to his own death as he rubbed his eyes.
Surely not!
Some people never learn!
“Captain.” He leaned over the edge and bellowed down at the cloaked figure. “I’ve spotted another ship to the west!”
Bill watched as the captain took out a long spyglass and peered through it.
“Chad, steer a course for it.”
“Yes, Cap’n.”
Thirty two minutes left.
...
It was bedlam on the merchant ship. Farren and Peter were knocked to and fro as the crew rushed around. They overheard the bosun talking to the captain, “Cap’n. The pirates have changed course. There heading right for us. What do you want to do?”
The captain paused and scratched his red beard. “I just don’t understand it. We only have fish on board – why would they want to come for us?”
“The why isn’t important, cap’n. Point is they are coming for us. Clearly they don’t want to come aboard and shake hands. I doubt we can outrun them. We are going almost full speed now. The only way to go faster is to dump the cargo.”
The captain raised his eyebrows. “But that’s two weeks work and wages. The crew wouldn’t stand for it.”
“They may,” the bosun replied, “if they were given the choice of either that or death.”
“They may just have mistaken us for a treasure ship. I’d be surprised though. Could we outrun them even if we dumped all our cargo?” asked the captain.
The bosun sighed, “No, probably not.”
“Well then. Let’s wave a white flag and see what happens. I can’t see that they’ll be keen on a hold full of fish.”
“Yes, cap’n.” The bosun left to shout orders at the crew. The captain stayed at the helm and looked out with a sense of foreboding at the advancing Nemesis.
...
Onboard the pirate ship, Bill was also looking out with a sense of foreboding. This was not because he had any inkling about his impending death, rather, he dreaded these moments. In some deeper place inside him that he rarely acknowledged, he almost felt sorry for the crew of the other ship. Oh, he was more than prepared, in fact, looked forward, to a battle. But against fishmongers? He could see the point of attacking the English or Spanish ships laden with treasure from the New World, because of the obvious ‘treasure’ aspect. But the merchant ships rarely had any cargo that was useful to the pirate crew. It was just their bad luck that they were in the way because the captain did not want anyone knowing of their existence. He shook himself and banished the thoughts from his head. The merchant ship could be seen clearly now. He looked down at the deck below him and saw his crewmates going through the usual pre-battle routines. Their red flag was being hoisted into position as some went below deck to prepare the cannons. Chad was picking up his flail and Renard was calmly sharpening his swords. In amongst all of the bustle on deck the captain stood, a cloaked figure at the helm. Bill shuddered. He always found the captain a bit … odd.
Fourteen minutes left.
Bill watched as the two ships became so close that he could make out the chaos aboard the merchant ship. He could clearly see a white flag being waved. It would be no use. The captain did not want anyone knowing of their existence.
“Bill!”
He looked down. It was Renard.
“Come down ‘ere. You could do with the practice. ‘arry,” the Frenchman gestured to another of the pirates, “you go up the crow’s nest an’ take Bill’s place.”
Bill began to clamber down to the deck. When he finally arrived Renard gave him a sword. Inwardly he sighed – he was getting too old for this. He lined up with the rest of the crew as he heard the pirate captain give the order to fire.
BOOM!
BOOM!!
BOOM!!!
The cannons made short work of the flimsy merchant vessel. Great gaping holes were ripped into the sides of the ship. Bill watched as giant sheets of the deck went flying through the air along with half of the crew.
“Let’s go!” screamed Renard.
Four minutes.
Bill grabbed the rope and swung over the gap between the two ships. He dropped onto the deck and quickly regained his footing on the uneven surface. Instinctively, he ducked as a dagger whizzed past and just missed his head. He drew his sword and stabbed at the nearest crew member, who crumpled into a heap. Bill looked down. The deck was covered in blood. Screams rang out. He watched as Chad swung his giant flail and knocked three men flying through the air. They landed in a pile across the deck and did not move. Renard was whirling around like a dervish – stabbing here, thrusting there, slicing and dicing his way through the crew.
30 seconds.
Bill saw that near him were two youths. Both had a similar look about them – They always seem to get younger, he thought. They were both thin and wiry with wild eyes. One held a sword and the other a crossbow. They were near the edge of the ship. Not really fighting, but watching. They seemed lost in it all. He made his way over.
“Back off,” screamed the one with the crossbow.
“Look boys, just …”
The crossbow fired.
PHMP
Bill felt a sharp pain. He looked down in disbelief at the bolt sticking out of his chest. Bill fell lifeless to the deck.
...
Farren stood in shock, the crossbow still quivering in his hand. The pirate lay on the deck not moving.
“Farren. Farren!!” Peter tugged at his brother. He noticed another pirate over to the left fighting with Reeve, who fell clutching his neck. Farren was still standing there.
“Farren, let’s just go. This is a slaughter.”
Farren turned to his brother. He was shaking badly and tears were running down his face.
“I. I. I killed a man,” he stammered.
“It was him or us – let’s go,” his brother replied.
They both turned and jumped off the ship.
PLSHH!!
The water was cool and enveloped them. They quickly came to the surface. The water was full of bodies and debris. Farren and Peter made their way to a plank of wood and grabbed hold of it.
“Pretend you’re dead,” said Peter.
“What?”
“The pirates might kill us if they think we are alive. We’ve got blood on us – so they may just ignore us.”
They both lay spreadeagled over the wood. Splinters dug into their flesh but they tried to lay as still as possible.
The boys could hear the noise die down on the ship but they daren’t look.
They waited.
BOOM!
Farren winced as he felt pain course through his leg. He risked a glance out of the corner of his eye. There was a jagged piece of wood jutting out from his shin. He fought his instincts to scream.
Peter watched as the merchant vessel was slowly consumed by the sea. He could see the pirate ship waiting. He forced himself to stay still despite his concern for his bro
ther. After what felt like an eternity, the Nemesis began to turn away.
Chapter 5
Stranded
The rain pelted down. Farren’s leg throbbed. The boys desperately clung to the flimsy piece of wood as the sea grew more vicious. The waves reared their liquid heads and crashed down on them. Farren and Peter were winning the battle with the sea to stay afloat, but only just. The ocean was not going to give up without a fight.
It was three hours since the pirate ship had departed and, soon after, the skies had quickly darkened, signalling the start of the storm. They had had no human contact since then, despite hearing the cries and groans from some of the crew from the ill-fated merchant ship. The boys had no way of knowing whether they were the only survivors or not – although they were more concerned with surviving the next few minutes.
As the waves crashed around them, Farren screamed over the wind, “Land! I thought I saw land!”
Before Peter could respond, an almighty large wave smashed into them and they lost their grip on the wood.
The brothers were unconscious as they sank deeper into the sea’s victorious embrace.
...
“KUGH! KUGH!”
The water flowed from Farren’s mouth as he coughed violently over the sand. The wave slopped into his head and went up his nose.
“KUGH!”
He groaned as he dragged his aching body further onto the shore. A small red crab scuttled over into his line of sight and stood there surveying him. He tried to raise his head but his neck was too sore. Slowly Farren forced himself into a sitting position on the shore. He looked down at his leg. It was fairly clean from all of the sea water, but the wood was still clearly embedded in it. He reached over to pull it out and then thought better of it. It wasn’t bleeding now, but it certainly would be if he yanked the wood out. Farren leaned back and took stock of his surroundings.
Ahead of him were a few large boulders, resting in the sand. Behind them was a large swathe of forest. To his left he could see bits of wood, debris and two bodies. He looked right and counted five more bodies. He winced as he tried to stand up. He staggered a little. Farren tried to put weight on his injured leg. It wouldn’t take much. He felt a little dizzy as he began to hobble down the beach towards the right.
“PETER!!” he yelled.
“PETER!!”
He got closer to the first body. He shooed a few seagulls away and then realised that he shouldn’t have bothered. They had been pecking at the eyes of the corpse. Farren couldn’t tell who it was. He slowly made his way to the next body. It was lying face down. He rolled it over. It was Malhair. There was a dagger in his upper chest. Malhair groaned. Farren almost fell over.
“Malhair.”
“Unngh. Farren. I don’t feel so good.”
Farren managed to smile. “Try not to move. I’m surprised you made it.”
“So am I.”
“Look I’ll try and drag you to the boulder over there so at least you’re in the shade.”
So very slowly they hobbled, dragged and slid their way over to the boulder.
Farren turned to Malhair. “Now stay there. I’m going to check for any more survivors.”
Malhair looked at him, “Yeh, like I’m going to be going anywhere.”
Farren limped over towards the three other bodies he had yet to check. One had his neck barely attached to the rest of the body, the other turned out to be only half a body. Farren was beginning to worry as he approached the final body. He hadn’t checked the other side of the beach, but this was not boding well for his brother. As he approached, he knew immediately from the flame red hair that it was Aeolus. He rolled the body over. As far as Farren could tell he was unconscious. He couldn’t see any major injuries, but there would be no way of telling until he awoke.
He slowly dragged Aeolus over to where Malhair was waiting.
“Any sign of your brother?” The concern and pain were obvious on Malhair’s stubbly face.
Farren shook his head. “No, but there were two bodies over that way. I’ll check them. Aeolus is breathing but I don’t know what state he’s in.”
He turned and made his way towards the other side of the beach. As he came closer he saw a man who was barely breathing. He was a mess. One leg was hanging from his body by a little bit of skin. His shirt was in tatters and covered in blood. There was a large sword mark going diagonally across his face. The sand around the man was stained red with his life’s blood. Farren moved closer but he could see that there was little he could do. The man’s eyes were glazed over and his body twitched occasionally.
With a heavy heart, Farren tore himself away and moved towards the last body. Even before he got there, he knew it was Peter. He didn’t know whether it was the shape of his body or the brown hair, he just knew. Farren forced himself to hobble faster. Tears started streaming down his face. “Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok,” he thought.
He arrived at his brother’s body and stood there for a moment – not sure whether he could handle any more. Reluctantly he turned him over. His face was blue. Quickly Farren sat his brother up and started hitting his back. Water poured out of Peter’s mouth.
“KUGH! KUGH!”
Peter’s eyes flickered as great coughs racked his wiry frame.
“Oh God,” he clutched his head.
“Peter, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
“Where am I?” Peter looked around groggily.
“I don’t know. We are on some island I think. Are you ok?” Farren answered.
“Yeh. I think so. I ache all over and feel sick but I think I’m alright.” Peter looked at his brother. “What about you? How’s the leg?”
“Well I can walk on it, just. It hurts but it’s not too bad. Hey, I found two others alive. Malhair and Aeolus. There’s another guy just over there, but I don’t think he’s going to make it. Malhair’s got a dagger in him, and he’s still going – it must have missed his heart so he’s lucky. Aeolus is unconscious and I’m not sure whether anything else is wrong with him.”
“Anyone else survive?” asked Peter.
Farren shook his head.
The two brothers made their way over to where Malhair and Aeolus were. As they walked they noticed that the sailor, near to where Peter had been, had died.
Peter paused to close the man’s eyes and they walked to the boulder where Malhair and Aeolus were waiting.
Malhair broke into a grin. “Peter, great to see you made it. You alright?”
“Yeh thanks. How are you holding up?”
“Not too bad, considering.”
The sun had begun to set, so Peter, being the most able of the survivors, set about creating some shelter. Figuring it was easier to leave the injured Malhair and Farren, who was utterly exhausted, leaned against the large boulder as it offered some degree of protection, Peter went into the forest. He soon found some large palm fronds and some vines. He tied the fronds together with the vines and then onto the boulder to provide some form of shelter.
It was getting dark now and all three of the conscious men began to struggle with thirst and hunger. It was going to be a long night.
The pain from their injuries and the unusual noises coming from the forest, let alone their hungry stomachs, made sleep hard to find. However, sheer exhaustion eventually claimed their weary, battered bodies.
...
The morning light dappled through the palm fronds. All four young men were now awake, Aeolus having just regained consciousness.
“Right,” said Peter, “I think we need to look at injuries first and then try and find food and water. I was thinking we could pull out the dagger from Malhair, and wood from Farren and then put sap in the wound to close it. We can’t just leave those stuck in there. Aeolus, do you have any injuries?”
“Well, I think I may have snapped a couple of my ribs,” he replied, “but nothing major.”
“I’m not sure.” Malhair frowned. “The wood in Farren’s leg is not so deep
– so if you pulled it out and packed the wound with sap his leg may not get infected. But this dagger could be near my heart. I think we leave it.”
“But …,” began Peter.
“It’s his decision,” claimed Farren.
So Peter went off and scoured the beach and, somewhat reluctantly, the bodies. He managed to find a dagger, two empty drinking flasks, a belt, and some nails. He walked to the outskirts of the forest and, using the metal flask, hit the nail into the wood until sap started dribbling out. He wiped it onto the dagger and went over to his crewmates.
Malhair and Aeolus helped to hold Farren down as Peter tied the belt around his brother’s lower leg. Peter had filled one of the drinking flasks with seawater and poured some of it over the wound. He then said, “I’m going to pull it out on three. Ready. One. Two!”
“AAAGHH!” Farren screamed as Peter pulled out the giant splinter of wood. Peter quickly poured the sea water in the wound and wiped the sap into it. He then used some of his tunic, which he had soaked in sea water, to wrap around the wound as a makeshift bandage.
“Thanks,” said Farren, “But you pulled on two!”
“It was Aeolus’ suggestion,” claimed Peter.
“Yeh, it doesn’t hurt as much if you don’t expect it. I heard that from one of the ship’s doctors,” Aeolus said.
“Well, in that case, I would hate to know what it would have felt like if you pulled on three because it REALLY, REALLY hurt on two!” Laughter rang out on the beach for the first time in a while.
“Right,” said Aeolus, “We need to find food and water.”
“Let’s split up,” suggested Farren.
“Well, Aeolus and I are the least injured so maybe we should split up and go with each of you two,” Peter nodded at Farren and Malhair. “I know we have no way of telling time, but we should meet here when the sun is highest in the sky – my guess is about an hour or so.”
So after the supplies were split, Peter and Malhair headed off into the forest towards the left. Farren and Aeolus went in the opposite direction.
Treasure Lost Page 4
