The Far Horizon

by Marsha Canham

  "Of course they are alive. And like you, I warrant they are both wondering why it is taking so long for us to come for them."

  Isabeau smiled softly and gave his arm another small squeeze. "I would tell you not to take any unnecessary risks, but I suspect it is far too late for that so I will just say good luck to you."

  "To you as well, Mother. Just draw their attention and hold it, we'll do the rest. And… try not to do your job too well, we don't want the whole fleet tossing coins at you."

  Jonas pushed off, widening the gap of black water between them. He cast a final glance at Bella then nodded to the men to dip their oars again.

  Isabeau watched them disappear into the darkness then nodded at Varian. "A count of one hundred, he said, then we boldly sally forth. I saw at least four guards on deck. Two forward, two aft."

  "Two more amidships," Juliet said, "and another up in the nest on the main mast. And there are lights showing in the stern cabin."

  A wavelet pushed the stern of the fishing boat, swinging it around to crack sharply against the hull of the galleon. To Bella it sounded like a gunshot and everyone on board held their collective breaths, but no curious heads appeared above them, no alarm sounded, and after a long, throbbing moment, their breaths were expelled.

  "Long enough," Isabeau whispered. She lifted the sides of the tin lantern they had kept hidden beneath canvas and hung it from a small hook mounted in the bow. Varian produced a second lantern and the men rowed out from behind the galleon, approaching the Avenger from the larboard side where the glow cast from the San Jacinta did not touch them.

  When they came alongside the bow, he cupped his hands around his mouth and hailed the guards on board in Spanish.

  Two heads appeared, leaning over the rail. "Who goes there?"

  "An evening of delectable pleasures, my friends. Five lovely ladies seeking to share their considerable talents with you."

  One of the guards waved them away. "No one is permitted to come on board. Move along."

  "What manner of lusty fellow would send us away without at least seeing the wares we have to offer? Here, have a closer look." He took the lantern and lifted it over Bella's head. Her hair was still a glossy mass of curls, her shoulders were bare and smooth, gleaming white under the light. Beside her, Molly smiled and waved up at the guards, then pursed her rouged lips to blow kisses. Juliet and Eva giggled and cupped their breasts, pushing them almost over the edges of their bodices.

  The guards grinned back. They were joined by the two who had been posted on the quarterdeck and talked excitedly amongst themselves.

  "We have wine as well," Varian said, raising a large stone crock. "The finest wine in all of Havana. Best of all, this bounty will cost you nothing! We have been sent by Capitán Recalde himself!"

  "Recalde?"

  "He has paid good coin for these luscious beauties whose talents will leave you trembling and weeping like schoolboys. This one—" he swung the lantern over his wife's head— "has a mouth on her that could suck a cannon ball through the barrel of a musket!"

  The guards disappeared briefly and when they reappeared, there were six of them leaning over the rail, one wearing the crimson striped doublet and plumed morion helmet identifying him as the captain of the guard.

  ~~

  Back in the stern, cloaked in darkness, Jonas heard the laughter and was first to shinny up the anchor cable, followed in caterpillar fashion, hands to heels by the other nine men, with Grundy coming up last. A quick peek over the bulwark revealed the six Spaniards forward at the rail, another on the quarterdeck, and the man up in the crow's nest.

  Crouched against the rail, Jonas glanced at Young Pitt, who was nervously licking his lips, for as often as he had been in battle, he had never actually killed a man.

  "We're counting on you, lad. Can you do it?"

  Pitt adjusted the bow over his shoulder. "I can do it, sir. If it helps me find my father, I can do it."

  "Good man."

  When all the men were crouched along the rail, Jonas gave the signal and they quietly rolled over the bulwark and landed soundlessly on the deck. Jonas darted into the shadows of the quarterdeck with Young Pitt on his heels. He waited until the rest of the men were in position, then nodded at Pitt, who blew out a deep breath and began to nock a series of arrows into his bow, firing one after the other in rapid succession. He shot the guard up in the crow's nest first, the arrow cutting through the dark night air with a deadly thwoosht. Before the sentry started to crumple forward the second, third, and fourth arrows picked off the guards standing at the rail. By the time their companions became aware of anything wrong, Jonas and his men were rushing across the deck, dispatching two others before they could draw their swords.

  That left only the plumed capitán de los guardias to stare in stunned disbelief at the red haired devil holding the point of a cutlass under his chin.

  "How many more men on board?"

  Instead of answering, the guard started to shout an alarm. Jonas leaned forward and slashed the blade across the man's throat, cutting the shout down to a bloody gurgle.

  The men split into two groups and filed down both sides of the ship, crouched low, moving on silent bare feet. Jonas and Young Pitt made for the hatchway, descending into the darkness of the lower deck. Amazingly, there were no guards on watch, no men asleep in hammocks, and only three Spanish crewmen sitting hunched over a small pool of light playing at dice.

  Three arrows produced one grunt, one strangled cry and three heavy thuds as they toppled over dead on the deck. Dante moved quietly toward the great cabin, where they encountered another Spanish guard who fell to Jonas's knife without making a sound.

  It seemed far too easy so far and every one of Jonas's senses was on high alert. He heard a voice inside the great cabin pleading for mercy followed by a woman's laughter. When he kicked the door open, he stood dumfounded for ten full seconds.

  A fat, red-faced Spaniard was naked in the middle of the cabin. His hands were bound behind him, his cheek was pressed to the floor, his arse was in the air showing livid red lash marks made by the riding whip held in the woman's hands. The woman might as well have been naked for all the modesty provided by the lace corset that ended below her belly. A feathered mask covered the upper half of her face, turning her into a hawk with a wickedly pointed beak.

  The Spaniard jerked upright, revealing his tumescence. "What is the meaning of this outrage? How dare you enter my cabin!"

  "Your cabin?" Jonas arched his eyebrows. "The last time I was here, this cabin belonged to my father."

  "Your fath—" the Spaniard's eyes bugged. "Your father!"

  "You might have heard of him? El pirata lobo?"

  The woman slapped the stem of the whip on her thigh. "How dare you speak to the capitán this way!"

  Jonas glared. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

  She slapped her thigh again. "Kneel before me, insolent peon and you will find out!"

  The captain turned and whispered in a furious panic. "Untie me. Untie me at once and shut your foolish mouth!"

  "Leave his bindings in place," Jonas countered. "But yes, do shut your mouth."

  He spun and raised his cutlass as he heard a footstep out in the corridor, but it was one of his own men.

  "Master Grundy says to tell you all's well, we have 'em by the ballocks, sir, He's makin' his way down to the hold."

  Dante nodded. "Tie this pair up tight and gag them. Master Pitt, grab the lantern and come with me."

  He left the cabin and took the ladder steps two at a time as he descended to the orlop deck, where the powder magazine and the cargo holds were located. Skirting around piles of coiled cables, his footsteps splashing in puddles of water that had leaked through the hull, he soon found the storage holds that would normally be filled with cargo and prize booty.

  "If anyone is inside, stand away from the door!" he shouted. A moment later he hefted an axe and swung it against the iron lock, tearing it off the wood. A
crewman leaped forward to open the door. Inside, their hands shielding their faces from the lantern light, were twenty gaunt, filthy survivors from Pigeon Cay. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust and recognize their rescuers but when they did, a rousing cheer went up and they poured out the door to share their stench and glee.

  Fists pounded from inside a second storage room.

  "Stand back!"

  A second swing of the axe shattered the lock and the door swung open. Gabriel Dante rushed out and nearly knocked Jonas off his feet. The two brothers hugged with unabashed emotion for long moments before Gabriel slapped Jonas on the shoulder and broke free.

  "You took your damned time getting here!" His voice was hoarse from thirst but his smile gleamed white in the weak light. "I was ready to start gnawing on my own leg to ease my boredom." He clutched Jonas's arm. "Do you have news of Mother? Juliet?" He grit his teeth and asked through a clench of fear, "And Eva? Anything of Eva?"

  "She is alive. Juliet's alive. They're both with Mother."

  "Oh, thank God and all the saints. She refused to go up into the caves. I ordered her to do so, to go with the children, but she refused."

  Jonas grasped Gabriel's arm. "Father? Is Father here, is he on board?"

  Gabriel raked a hand through the greasy tangle of his hair. "I've not set eyes on him since we were taken ashore and hung in cages for the good people of Havana to hurl rotten fruit and shit at us. I was brought back here yesterday but Father was left behind and I've not heard anything more."

  Growling low, Jonas moved away from Gabriel and attacked the makeshift lock on the third hold, then the fourth. The men who stumbled out were dying of thirst and went straight for the water barrels, but there was no sign of Simon Dante. Jonas was about to smash through the fifth storage hold when he heard Gabriel shout.

  "Jonas! In here!"

  Gabriel had taken a lantern into each of the holds to check for wounded men. In the third hold he found a heap of filthy rags against the far bulkhead. At first he thought the man underneath was dead, but then he saw a hand slowly drag upward to block the bright light that washed over him.

  Gabriel dropped quickly to his knees as Jonas came up swiftly behind him. "Is it Father?"

  "No. It's Geoffrey Pitt."

  Jonas crouched down beside his brother. It was not the clean-shaven, scholarly man they were accustomed to seeing, always ready with a smile, always bearing up under the brunt of their father's humor. Pitt's hair was crusted with dirt and dried blood, he had a stained bandage wrapped around his head covering one eye. His skin was sallow, his hands shook and when they brushed away the layer of rags, his shirt was brown with dried blood, his left leg was bound in filthy bandages.

  When Jonas reached out to touch him, Pitt's fists came up and flailed the air trying to fend him off.

  "Geoffrey? It is me, Jonas! It's both of us, Jonas and Gabriel!"

  Pitt's glazed eye blinked slowly, stupidly. "Jonas Spence? You old bastard. I thought you sailed the Egret to China."

  Jonas managed a grim smile. "You always told me I looked like my grandfather and aye, he did vow to sail his ship to the China sea."

  Gabriel touched a hand to Pitt's brow. "He is burning with fever. We need to move him out of here."

  Pitt's eye rolled toward Gabriel's voice and widened with a sharp cry of recognition. "Simon! You're alive. Thank God, you're alive."

  Jonas turned swiftly but his smile faded when he realized Geoffrey was addressing his son, Young Simon Pitt.

  Another commotion outside the hold was heralded with cheers as Varian, Juliet, Isabeau, and Eva pushed their way through the crew. Eva flung herself into Gabriel's arms, then the pair was pulled into a crushing hug by Juliet. Isabeau stood perfectly still on the threshold, her eyes flooded with tears of relief when she saw her son.

  The sense of relief faded when she dragged her eyes away and saw who Jonas held cradled in his arms.

  "Geoffrey," she whispered. "Oh my God, Geoffrey. Is he--?"

  "Dead?" Pitt roused enough to try to focus on Isabeau's face but his eye rolled around independent of intent. "Not quite yet, beautiful lady. Not quite yet. Is… is Christiana with you? I must… I must tell her…" His head lolled and he lost whatever strength had kept him conscious.

  Isabeau pressed trembling fingers to her mouth to smother a sob, then waved Jonas forward. "Bring him out of this hellish place, so we can tend his wounds. Is there any sign of your father?"

  "No. The bastard Quero must have been telling the truth after all," Jonas's voice was strained with newfound rage. "He must have been taken on board the San Jacinta."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  "By my best reckonin', we ain't got much time," Hobson said. "I don't trust that innkeeper to wait around for any signal, not with 'is pockets full o' silver. We need to be ready to sail when she blows."

  They had gathered in the great cabin. Geoffrey Pitt was on the berth while Bella and Molly tended his wounds. Eva was making herself useful tearing a bedsheet into strips for clean bandages. Isabeau sat at the table and was quiet for the most part, listening to the men discuss what to do next.

  "The Avenger has taken a beating," Gabriel said, "but her heart is strong and she'll get us out of here given half the chance."

  "Aye. " Jonas paced the length of the cabin, his brow furrowed in thought. "We need a crew topside, ready on the sails. When the pinnace blows—if the damned thing ever blows—you will have to cut the anchor and get her out of here."

  "We're not leaving without father!" Juliet insisted. She took a step forward but drew up with a sharp cry and doubled over. Isabeau and Varian both rushed to her side, but the pain nearly took her down onto her knees before they could reach her.

  "Oh good God, not now," she said through clenched teeth.

  "Is it the baby?" Varian asked.

  "No, you pillock. It's Captain Christmas come early!"

  "She started having pains at the governor's castle," Bella said quietly.

  "And you didn't think to say anything?" Varian glared at her.

  Bella planted her hands on her hips. "What should we have done differently? Leave her behind?"

  Juliet looked over and, as the pain receded, she smiled at Bella for the first time. "Thank you for that."

  "Don't thank me yet. Thanks to Digger, I can stitch up a wound and bandage the stump of a leg, but I have never delivered a baby."

  "Juliet is right," Isabeau said, interrupting. "We are not leaving here without Simon. If he is on board the San Jacinta…?"

  "I will go after him," Jonas said.

  "We… will go after him," Gabriel amended. "You, Mother, will get the Avenger under sail quick as you can and get the hell out of the harbor."

  "I am not about to leave either of you behind!" Isabeau insisted.

  "We have no intention of being left behind," Jonas said. "As soon as we have Father, we'll be back on board before you can clear the harbor."

  Someone snorted and all eyes turned to the naked Spaniard and his wench trussed up tight and pushed into a corner.

  Gabriel crossed over and ripped the gag off his mouth. "You have something to say, capitán?"

  "If the pirate wolf is being held on the San Jacinta, you will never even see him, much less remove him from the ship. There are five hundred soldados on board, another two hundred navio crew. He is a valuable prisoner. Far too valuable to leave unguarded."

  "I would have thought this ship was of equal value as a prize, yet there were only a handful of men on board."

  The Spaniard spat some shreds of cloth onto the floor beside him. "This puta ship leaks like a well-used whore. She will sink before she ever reaches open water."

  "Then I guess they don't think too highly of you if they made you captain."

  Gabriel shoved the rags back into the Spaniard's mouth. "I say we heave them overboard and see how fast they sink."

  "Whereas I say we search the cabins. See if we can scrounge up enough helmets and armor to fill a longboat
with soldados. Seven hundred men on board the San Jacinta, they can't possibly know every face. In the meantime, Grundy… you have that other little surprise to prepare?"

  Hobson grinned. "Aye Capt'n. I seen three jollyboats aft; they'll burn like the pyres o' the Inquisition once we load 'em full o' combustibles an' set 'em loose." He stabbed his finger at nearby crewmen. "You, you, and you… grab up some kegs o' powder an' bring 'em topside. The rest o' you, find me some barrels o' pitch, rosin, brimstone… whatever ye can find that will burn. We're gonny light up this harbor so bright the Devil will know he has company comin' his way."

  ~~

  The reunited Hell Twins armed the survivors from Pigeon Cay and led the way back up to the main deck. Like small dark beetles the crewmen climbed silently up the rat lines and spread across the yards. Mates with axes crouched in the stern ready to chop the anchor free. Others quietly checked the guns and brought up powder and shot while Jonas, wearing the striped doublet and plumed morion helmet taken from the dead capitán de los guardias strolled casually back and forth across the quarterdeck, occasionally passing through the dull circle of light thrown off by the deck lantern so that all would appear normal to any observers on nearby ships.

  ~~

  Well out to sea, as yet too distant for any sound of thunder to reach the harbor, the clouds flickered blue and white with streaks of sheet lightning. An approaching storm, though still far off, brought stiffening breezes that rippled across the surface of the water. It blew spickets of sand into the face of the innkeeper who, having loaded a small cart with all of his worldly possessions, lit the end of the fuse as Hobson Grundy had instructed, then joined his wife on the cart. A cluck of his tongue spurred the mule forward and they vanished into the dark night.

  The sizzling red heater raced along the fuse and snaked into the belly of the pinnace. When it reached the barrels of powder there was a moment of silence before an explosion tore through the hold and blew apart the hull. Subsequent explosions and spouts of orange flame sent founts of red hot sparks a hundred feet into the air. Embers were snatched by the wind and spiralled upward from whence they were carried ashore and scattered over thatched straw roofs and onto the docks where bales of dried tobacco leaves were waiting to be loaded onto ships.