NIGHT FELL ON GIANT ISLAND, HERALDING THE HOWLS and whoops of nocturnal mice. The Dung Mouse pen was finally silent; the pirate crew of the Silver Shark were holed up on land, drinking the night away; and Mousebeard sat at his desk watching the Golden Mice. He was angry at finding himself in this position, and he was angry at not seeing to Scragneck while he had the chance. Mousebeard rarely slept more than a few hours a night. His mind was continually alive with thoughts and schemes, and he hated to waste time sleeping. Besides, as a pirate, it was always good to sleep with one eye open just in case someone took a dislike to you.
As well as the flaming missiles falling all around, mortars were exploding on the volcano’s rim. Lord Battersby’s warships were destroying the cliffs, rock by rock, with the clear intention that no mortars should fall into the volcano itself for fear of hurting anyone or anything.
On top of the noise of the bombardment, the loud footsteps of Ogruk could be heard pacing around the island. He was becoming restless, and eventually Mousebeard heard him approaching the lagoon. His footsteps stopped, and the pirate leaned back in his chair as the walls of his room began to shake. The flat ceiling shuddered and tilted upward, and with a loud crunching noise it was lifted off to show the giant standing high above and the night sky stretching beyond. Holding the roof between two fingers, Ogruk crouched down and pushed his other fist into the lagoon to steady himself.
Ogruk’s head, still a long way above the fortress, filled the open ceiling. Mousebeard could see warts and scars upon the giant’s leathery skin, and with each breath Ogruk made, it was as though a hurricane had been unleashed in his room.
“Mousebeard,” said the giant very loudly, his rounded teeth and enormous tongue visible in the dark, “it’s time I moved on. Those ships are destroying everything and, as you know, I choose not to fight.”
“When will you leave?” shouted Mousebeard, knowing that the giant found it hard to hear him.
“Tonight,” boomed Ogruk, his voice rattling the windows. “I’m fed up with all this.”
Mousebeard twisted his beard. It was the worst news he could have had.
“I understand,” he said. “Will you still take us out to sea?”
“Of course,” replied the giant with little emotion. “I hold no hatred for you. One day we shall meet again under better circumstances.”
“I’ll get everyone ready then,” said the pirate. “Thank you, Ogruk.”
With a slow nod that sent his tousled hair spilling down over his face, Ogruk placed the roof down gently and walked off to the edge of the island.
“I’m an idiot,” growled Mousebeard, looking around at his room and realizing he might never see it again. “All this is lost. . . . ”
He collected his blunderbuss, pistols, and cutlass, letting out growls as the will took him. He pulled on his thick woolen jacket, strapped his belt across his chest, and grabbed the mousebox containing the Golden Mice. When the time came to face the navy, and he knew it would happen sooner rather than later, then he’d do it fully armed.
Mousebeard left his room and stepped cautiously down the staircase. It was a long walk to the ground floor, passing numerous entrances to other rooms and halls, all of which seemed quiet and unoccupied. Eventually he reached the bottom, where a worn-out pirate stood on guard. His upright spear rose and dipped as each nod of his head sent him closer to sleep. Mousebeard made a gruff reprimand, and the guard jumped to attention to unbolt the massive door in the gateway.
The cool evening welcomed Mousebeard with the sound of peaceful lapping water. He stood quietly for a moment, noting the respite in the navy’s attack while watching the rippling lagoon through the cracks in the walkway. The gangplank onto the Silver Shark stretched out before him, and he made his way toward it. Mousebeard felt something creeping up behind him, like a shadow falling over his heart. He turned around and saw Scragneck, and immediately drew himself up.
“I don’t remember calling for you!” said Mousebeard angrily.
“So we’re leavin’, are we?” said Scragneck, tapping his sword menacingly in the palm of his hand. “He’s not terrible discreet that giant of yours — havin’ a mouth the size of a ship an’ all!”
“You got what you wanted,” replied Mousebeard, stepping toward Scragneck ominously, “so go and tell the men we’re sailing in the next hour. Sober them up with a cold shower too; this journey ahead of us could well be our last.”
“Ah, but cap’n, this journey ain’t goin’ to be our last . . . .”
Mousebeard heard shuffling behind him, and two pirates grabbed at his arms. He lashed out with anger as the Golden Mice were snatched from his grasp.
“You blasted fools,” he growled. He managed to free a hand and reached for his cutlass.
“It ain’t no good resisting, cap’n. I decided I didn’t want to swing wiv ya after all.” Scragneck’s sword shot out and rested under Mousebeard’s jaw.
The other pirates soon regained their nerve and raised their swords at his back and chest. Mousebeard could feel the sharp points pressing into him like the clutches of an iron maiden. He didn’t care, though — he sensed his battle with Scragneck was going to be the least of his worries now.
“You’ll send us to our death,” growled Mousebeard, dropping his weapons to the ground, smoke still lifting from the blunderbuss. “The Old Town Guard will never let you go free. You’re all walking into a trap the size of the Great Sea!”
“Ah, but, cap’n,” said the scheming Scragneck, “you’re forgetting that the Shark will be under my control!”
Mousebeard looked at the mutinous pirate, and cursed himself for ever keeping him in his crew. Scragneck’s mind was clouded by his lust for power. Mousebeard breathed heavily, pushing his chest out forcefully, making the pirates’ swords bend.
“Well, come on then . . . ,” he said, his dark eyes still angry. “What are you waiting for?”
Scragneck smiled.
“Get ’im, boys!” he snarled.
Because of the sheer size and power of Mousebeard, it took five pirates to tie him up. They took his bulging arms and bound them three times over for security. His huge palms clenched and unclenched as the bonds constricted the feeling in his hands. His beard bristled.
“Stick ’im in the brig and clap ’im in irons. I’m the captain now.” Scragneck turned. “Don’t try anythin’, Mousebeard!” he said, as the other pirates tried to jostle the big man up the gangplank with little success. Mousebeard was keen to walk as slowly and heavily as he could.
“Now’s not the time,” he replied caustically. “I’ll need my strength for when the Silver Shark is sinking!”
Once Mousebeard had been taken aboard ship, Miserley strolled out of the boat with her head held high.
“I’ve sent a message to the navy. That Battersby’s expecting us,” she said.
“Good. Let’s be prepared. Get as many guns as possible on top deck. And get that Drewshank on board; somethin’ makes me think he’ll be useful. Leave the others, particularly them kids, to rot in the mouse pen. That’ll teach ’em!”
Miserley set off into the dark.
“Cap’n of the Silver Shark!” said Scragneck quietly. “Who’d ’a’ thought?”
Emiline lay awake on a hard and uncomfortable bunk. The Dung Mice were snoring loudly, as was Fenwick, and she was finding it impossible to sleep.
She’d heard the gunshot, but being used to the explosions from the navy, she hadn’t thought anything of it. At least not until the door to the pen burst open.
There, on the threshold, was Miserley, standing confidently in her tight gray jacket with her hands on her hips. Her long hair swooped down over her eyes as she surveyed the bleary-eyed prisoners. Five pirates appeared from behind her and pulled Drewshank out into the jungle, scattering Dung Mice in the process. The prisoners jumped to their feet, and Emiline found herself charging through the door at Miserley. Emiline pushed her to the floor, but before Miserley had the chance to draw her daggers another pirate had kicked the prisoner back into the pen.
“Get away, girl,” he barked.
Miserley lifted herself off the floor and shook dirt from her hair. Drewshank laughed, as did all the prisoners, but they soon fell quiet as the door slammed shut and the key turned in the lock.
“That’s it for you lot,” shouted Miserley, banging the door. “There’s no way out now. We’re leaving the island and letting you rot here with these disgusting mice.”
Fenwick ran to the door and shoved it with his shoulder. “Captain!” he shouted through the bars.
Drewshank stumbled as his hands were grabbed and tied in front of him.
“Fenwick?” he shouted back bewildered. He looked back at the pen as he was pulled along. After the events of the past few weeks, he’d thought nothing could shock him anymore. But he was wrong.
“What’s going on?” he said, wearily.
“You’re being handed over to the navy. They want Mousebeard and the Golden Mice, and we thought we’d throw you in as well,” said Miserley, sniggering.
“You really are most despicable,” said Drewshank. “Don’t you realize they’ll either kill you or hang you high at Old Town?”
Miserley jabbed him in the ribs with her dagger handle.
“Lord Battersby has given us his word that we won’t be harmed.”
“Battersby!” exclaimed Drewshank. He suddenly stood still, causing the pirate in front to almost fall over. “Of course!”
“You know him?”
“Something like that . . . ,” said Drewshank. “What have you gotten us all into?”
Miserley’s temper exploded. “Shut up!” she shouted.
Drewshank fell silent, and resigned himself to whatever lay ahead. At least he now knew why he’d been chosen as bait for Mousebeard. There had never been any love lost between him and Battersby.
“Are you ready?” boomed Ogruk.
Scragneck stepped out onto deck and signaled his intentions. The giant looked down at the ship quizzically.
“Where’s Mousebeard?” he boomed.
“Sortin’ out a few things below deck!” replied the new captain. “He wanted you to carry us out of the volcano.”
Ogruk frowned and looked at the tiny, insignificant Scragneck. He was utterly weary of the humans and their worthless battles, but his promise to Mousebeard still stood. The giant sighed, sending low waves rippling across the lagoon. Then he bent down and plucked the Silver Shark from the water.
In just a few long steps, Ogruk reached the rim of the volcano, and clambered up its side. The giant surveyed the flickering white lights onboard the many ships bobbing up and down on the surrounding sea. The navy was ready and waiting.
Scragneck looked out uneasily at the view.
“Put us down then!” he shouted.
Ogruk looked again across the sea, and raised the Silver Shark to one of his immense eyes. His flowing hair battered the hull like thousands of lashing whips, and as he spoke everyone struggled to keep on their feet for the force of his breath.
“Not here?” he rumbled. “Farther?”
“Yes, here! Put us down!” shouted Scragneck.
“But Mousebeard?” Ogruk said, taking a step down into the sea.
“This is what he wanted!” screamed the pirate, clutching hold of the ship’s rail. “You can put us down now, Ogruk!”
The giant grumbled as though his throat were full of thunder, and lowered the Silver Shark to the sea far below. His grip loosened, and the water took hold of the vessel.
Flares went shooting into the sky, lighting the moonless night, and Ogruk made his way out into the deep, releasing large rolling waves in his wake. As his massive shape grew fainter and more distant, he never looked back. With a crackle of explosions, harpooned ropes fired out into the hull of the Silver Shark — even its metal sides couldn’t withstand the brute force of the navy. Battersby had trained the guns of four huge warships onto the Silver Shark, their crews all ready for action. Bit by bit they drew in closer until the sailors were within shouting distance of the pirate ship.
On deck, Scragneck held his sword tightly, and ordered the rest of the pirates to draw their weapons.
“Are Mousebeard and Drewshank ready?” he shouted, turning to Miserley.
“They’re chained up and ready,” she replied. Her daggers, as ever, were primed for action, but she seemed restless. “I’ll get them brought up.”
Miserley went below deck and gave the signal to one of the pirates on guard. Mousebeard walked from the brig in silence, his wrists locked in irons behind his back. He proceeded up to the top deck with a grave look on his face, and every pirate he passed tried not to meet his eye. Drewshank was attached to him by a thick iron chain and struggled to shadow his steps.
Miserley watched them leave the lower deck, but didn’t follow. She walked to the empty stern of the ship and pushed aside a cabinet, which shunted as though on castors. Behind was a secret cupboard filled with weapons, food, and a barrel of fresh water. She took one look behind her to see that she hadn’t been followed, and then crept inside, concealing the entrance once more.
Back on deck, Scragneck pushed his prisoners to the front of the deck so that they were in full view of the approaching warships. A crowd of excitable pirates joined him and withdrew their weapons in wait.
“You’re giving yourself up,” growled Mousebeard, watching the navy’s ships come hull to hull with the Silver Shark. Behind the warships, the sea was filled with vessels big and small, lit up by the continuous stream of flares that were being fired into the sky.
“Shut up,” snapped Scragneck; however, he couldn’t help but eye the ships nervously.
From every side of the Silver Shark, sailors appeared and dropped onto the deck. Scragneck watched them intently, and they stared back without moving further — the sailors easily outnumbered the pirates. Finally, with a heavy thump, Lord Battersby landed aboard, a silver-butted pistol in his hand.
“Good evening,” he said, catching the eye of Mousebeard. He approached him and looked him up and down.
In his chains, Mousebeard bristled, and his dark eyes held Battersby’s gaze.
“How the mighty tumble,” said Battersby. “And you, Drewshank . . . what a nice surprise. I thought you had gone down with your worthless ship . . . .”
“A small gesture for ya,” said Scragneck.
“Well, that’s much appreciated,” added Battersby. “I shall enjoy watching him walk to the scaffold. He was just perfect for our little plan.”
Battersby made a small gesture with his hand and sailors approached Mousebeard and Drewshank, seizing their chains. Even though the pirate was bound, the sailors clearly found his presence unnerving. He glowered at them as they tried to move him.
“Idiots,” snarled Mousebeard, “thinking you can get the better of me!”
The pirate let his head fall back and whistled three short notes. Immediately, along the masts rushed tens of mice, who all started to wail. It was the same ear-piercing noise that Drewshank had heard when they were in the fog, and every sailor and pirate clutched their ears.
“Run!” shouted Mousebeard.
Drewshank was reeling from the noise, but found it didn’t matter when he was being pulled along by the fearsome strength of Mousebeard. The pirate charged at Battersby and knocked him flying with his shoulder. Two sailors, struggling to deal with the wailing mice, managed to jump on Drewshank and drag him to the floor. The pirate pulled up sharply, but, giving a great tug, had his fellow prisoner back on his feet again.
“Get him!” ordered Battersby.
At least ten sailors released their ears and headed toward the pirate, who had barged to the edge of the ship. Mousebeard looked down into the choppy blackness of the sea, and his immediate thought was to jump, but he paused, and the wailing of the mice grew louder in a fresh chorus. With the weight of Drewshank hanging off him, he wouldn’t stand a chance in the cold water. There was now nowhere to run.
The sailors eventually reached him, but first they bundled Drewshank to the floor. Mousebeard stood firm and felt his arms pull sharply with the chain. More sailors jumped onto him. He swung his body frantically, dispatching three sailors over the side and into the water before he was finally overcome in a torrent of punches. In a last gasp of strength, he let out a desperate cry of anguish, as his head smashed into his captors.
Battersby calmly found his feet and pointed the pistol at Mousebeard’s neck.
“I’d finish this now if it was worth my while,” he said.
“Do it,” ordered Mousebeard.
Battersby smirked.
“Bringing you back to Old Town will make me the most famous man in Midena — and even the whole of the Great Sea. You’re worth so much more alive . . . .”
Battersby turned his gun to where the mice were resting on the masts and pulled the trigger. Mousebeard’s face paled as he watched three small mice drop like weights to the deck. Their wailing cries stopped briefly then started up again.
“Blow them away!” shouted Battersby to his troops, who were being driven mad by the noise. The sailors passed the order to the Stonebreaker, which unleashed a hail of shot at the offending mice, blowing the masts to pieces.
Mousebeard felt a hole widen in his heart at the sound of the gunfire.
“Take the prisoners away!” ordered Battersby exultantly, before he turned to face the pirates. “Who’s in charge of this ship now?”
Scragneck stepped forward as the shapes of Mousebeard and Drewshank disappeared onto the Stonebreaker.
“Do you have the mice?” asked Battersby, slightly breathless.
“Do I ’ave your word?”
Battersby let his sailors surround him. “Of course you do.”
A pirate carried over the ornate mousebox, passed it to Battersby, and then stepped back.
“Excellent,” said Lord Battersby, his eyes glowing at the thought of the riches the mice would bring to Old Town. Before he stepped off the Silver Shark, he looked back and spoke.
“You have two choices,” he said. “Either drop your weapons and surrender, or face our cannons and die like the scum you are!”
Then he turned and disappeared behind a freshly mustered line of sailors. Scragneck raised his sword.
“You lying, two-bit . . . ”
Pistol shots rang out from behind him and his pirates fired through a row of Battersby’s sailors.
“No surrender!” shouted Scragneck to his fellow pirates as he slashed with his sword. “Blast ’em back to Old Town!”
Safe onboard the Stonebreaker, Battersby watched the fighting from his cabin. He ordered more sailors to go onboard, knowing that before long the pirates would be completely overrun. When word eventually reached him of Scragneck’s capture, he suppressed a smile. He relished the knowledge that his present for the Old Town gallows was going to be even greater than he’d hoped.