Scarletta tensed at the rattle of Misty’s anchor chain and urgently shook Laughing Jack awake.
‘I don’t understand. They’re leaving without the children,’ she said.
Laughing Jack rubbed the sleep from his eyes and cursed.
‘Seems like they’re ditching them – and some of their crew. No doubt they’ve decided to run for their own lives,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll have the men flush the children out later, but first I want to see that ship go down.’ He kicked the two sleeping pirates awake.
‘Join the boarding party,’ he ordered. ‘Offer the crew their lives for the girl. Once she’s in your hands, shoot every one of those animals and scuttle the ship.’
Misty’s crew fidgeted impatiently, willing her to pick up speed. Their hearts lifted as the sea opened into view, only to sink when two canoes appeared from behind the headland. Each boat carried six men. Two paddled hard and four crouched low, holding muskets to their shoulders. The canoes slowed within hailing distance.
‘Heave to! We’re coming aboard,’ bellowed a pirate. Capt. Albern motioned Skeet to take the helm and marched to the rail. All he could do was to play for time and pray for a wind.
‘Identify yourselves!’ he demanded.
‘Don’t fool with us! You have Sassy on board,’ shouted the pirate. ‘Hand her over and you can go. Either that or we kill you.’
‘There’s no girl on board this ship. Come and see for yourselves,’ invited the captain, and issued a stream of urgent orders. Tam and Thom dropped two rope ladders to just high enough above the water to make them difficult to grasp. Pickle crouched below the bulwarks at the for’ard one, armed with a heavy length of chain, and Chips crawled to his side with an axe. Hidden at the aft ladder, Jobey nursed the weight of a crowbar and Waff gripped a viciously serrated knife.
Misty slipped along a little faster to meet the swell of the open sea, her gentle rolling making it more difficult for the canoes to lie alongside, but even so the first of the pirates eventually clung to the ladders and began to climb.
‘Get more of you on the ladder. The heavier it is the less it will swing about,’ advised Tam, and was pleased to see more men follow the leading pair.
The first man arrived at the rail. Pickle struck, and with two quick swings of the axe, Chips cut the ladder free. Simultaneously, Jobey leaned over the aft ladder to cosh the leading man’s wrist. Waff’s knife flashed, and the ladder tumbled away. Shouting and cursing, the men pitched onto those climbing below, and struggling to disentangle themselves from the ladders, they all tumbled back into the wildly lurching canoes.
‘Bye-bye!’ yelled Pickle.
‘You can keep the ladders!’ mocked Chips. But everyone knew their assailants would be back.
‘Come on wind!’ pleaded Skeet, handing the helm back to his skipper, but cruelly the little breeze there was faltered and died.
Ancell awoke from a deep sleep at the clamour of the boarding party and dragging himself on deck found Chad digging weapons from the bosun’s locker – lengths of chain, two boathooks, and spare belaying pins.
‘Never give up,’ instructed the rat, handing him a length of heavy piping.
‘Go for their throats!’ exhorted Skeet, practicing using a boathook as a lance.
Ancell took his place at the rail. At his side stood Chad, who no more than hours ago had saved his life, and was now specifying in graphic terms the bloodcurdling injuries he was about to inflict. Tam and Thom stood shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting quietly, while Skeet paced impatiently back and forth. Chips was extolling the virtues of an axe as a weapon. Waff gripped a belaying pin while puffing furiously on his pipe. Jobey glowered and Pickle whistled defiantly as they swung crowbars menacingly. The Cook limped from the galley, armed with a meat cleaver and clenching a carving knife between his teeth, and Capt. Albern stood resolutely at the helm, gently easing the wheel a few spokes one way and then the other to catch the elusive breath of air they so desperately needed.
‘Here they come,’ muttered Chad.
The assault was better prepared this time. One canoe stood off a little, a line of muskets trained on Misty. The other paddled close alongside, the men swinging grappling irons and climbing nets. It would be easy for them, Ancell realised, just a matter of time before the marksmen picked off Misty’s crew as they showed themselves to fight off the boarding party. Tears clouded his eyes. His quest had already cost Truegard his life, and now the children would suffer once more and Misty’s decks run with the blood of her crew. He wondered if Merrie could hide. He feared Doc, sent below with the children, would stand no chance.
‘Down everybody!’ shouted Skeet.
Splinters of wood flew from the bulwarks as the first volley struck. Capt. Albern crouched at the helm, still searching for a whisper of wind.
For a long tense minute everyone waited in silence for the first of the grappling irons to thud on board. Suddenly they heard screams of terror, and daring to peer above the bulwarks, stood open mouthed. One canoe was upside down, its crew floundering in the water. Then they saw Hector clamp his jaws onto the other. His white belly flashed and plumes of spray rose high in the air as he thrashed the sea to drag it over. A man pointed a pistol, but with a flick of his tail Hector knocked him overboard. Then, twisting and turning, he dragged the boat under.
Misty’s crew stood transfixed, hardly daring to believe what they had witnessed. Some of the men floated face down, rising and falling with the swell. Others splashed weakly towards the ship. Capt. Albern watched sombrely.
‘Prepare to take them on board, Mr Skeet,’ he ordered.
Skeet hesitated. These were men who would have killed without compunction. But he knew the captain would never leave a man to drown. There was no choice; it was their bounden duty to save a life if possible.
‘Aye, aye, Skipper,’ he responded.
Tam and Thom threw lines to the swimmers. A man grabbed one and started to pull himself towards the ship. Suddenly he disappeared below the water. He surfaced again with such a bloodcurdling shriek that Misty’s crew shuddered. It was the last sound he made as the shark attacked a second time. Patches of red tinged the blue of the sea and another man screamed, and then another. The sharks moved in fast – precise and deadly. They struck silently from beneath, and they lunged in a welter of foam from the surface, their mouths of razor sharp teeth gaping wide, their round eyes cold and merciless. Momentarily the sea seethed with the ferocity of the attack, and then suddenly there were no more screams, no flailing arms and no cries for help. A boot with half a leg in it bobbed to the surface. A sickle shaped fin cut through the water, and then that too was gone.
Ancell clung to the rail. He wanted to walk away, but his legs wouldn’t work. He stared at the sea, rising and falling languidly, indifferent to the killing. Only the slowly widening circle of blood marked the slaughter.
‘They’re efficient, I’ll give them that,’ muttered Chad with a shiver.
Like automatons, the crew silently gathered on the quarterdeck, seeking the company of each other and the reassurance of standing by their captain at the helm. Doc peered up from the companionway. ‘I heard shots. What’s happening?’ he demanded. Everyone stared at him blankly.
‘It’s all over,’ said Skeet eventually.
‘What’s over? Have I missed something?’
‘Just a few sharks,’ said Jobey.
‘Why didn’t anyone tell me, I’d have liked to have seen them,’ complained Doc.
‘They were on business – didn’t stop to chat,’ said Pickle.
‘Can the children come up? The gunfire scared them.’
‘Bring them up, they’ve nothing to fear now,’ said Capt. Albern.
Suddenly a great bellow erupted as Hector rose from the water. He crashed down in a cascade of spray, then charged back and forth across the entrance of the creek, head and tail lifted, his body inflated and his mouth agape. Drops of water danced from his back as he vibrated with growls and roars.
‘He’s telling everyone he’s king around here,’ Doc explained.
‘Looks like a victory celebration to me,’ said Skeet with a grin.
‘Three cheers for Hector!’ cried Chips.
Jobey struck the ship’s bell repeatedly. Pickle rushed to the galley and grabbed a saucepan and ladle, which he banged above his head, and soon everyone else was doing the same. The children tumbled on deck to call goodbye, Capt. Albern dipped Misty’s ensign in respect, and they all yelled, banged and waved farewell to the crocodile. With a final bellow of acknowledgement and a slap of his tail, Hector slipped below the surface, and the only sound was the creak of Misty’s rigging.
Laughing Jack and Scarletta burst from the trees, breathless and exhausted from battling through the forest to keep Misty in sight, only to watch her drift seaward and beyond their reach. Choking with anger, his veins pulsing, Laughing Jack dashed his musket to the ground.
‘I’ll get you! You’ll not defy me!’ he screamed.
He had watched the sinking of the canoes, and listened to the despairing cries of his crew, but hearing the children’s calls of farewell most filled him with fury. He turned on Scarletta. ‘They must have got them on board when you were meant to be keeping watch,’ he snarled.
‘I told you I saw no boat,’ snapped Scarletta.
‘We’ll board “The Executioner” and chase them. We’ll blow that ship out of the water.’
Scarletta stroked her cheek, feeling the scar pulse with blood. ‘I want to watch those animals die as much as you do,’ she said, ‘but we’ve just lost half our crew. We’re not in a position to chase anybody.’
Laughing Jack picked up his gun with a trembling hand and fired hopelessly in the direction of Misty.
‘You’ll not escape me! I won’t forget!’ he bellowed.
Misty heeled to the first catspaws of wind ruffling the water and her crew braced the yards to the breeze that set in from the north.
‘Everything secure, Mr Skeet?’ asked Capt. Albern. The second mate thought for a moment and slapped his head with annoyance.
‘Sorry, Skipper!’ he replied, and ran for’ard, calling for help to make fast the anchor.
Pleased to be at sea again, everyone worked with a will. Skeet announced the first watch, but none of the crew was inclined to rest below and one and all wandered aft to join the children leaning on the stern rail. Together they watched the shoreline recede.
‘Goodbye Jandamarra and Hector, and good luck to both of you,’ said Skeet, and everyone murmured their agreement.
‘And goodbye and to hell with Laughing Jack and Scarletta,’ added Chad.
‘I hope so, I really do hope so,’ said Ancell.
Sassy and Chantal giggled and pointed to Doc perched at the bow, his one good wing outstretched like a lop-sided figurehead, the ends of Waff’s bandage streaming in the wind.
‘Come back aft! What are you doing up there!’ called Chad.
‘Can you see land yet?’ yelled Pickle.
Doc relaxed his pose and eyed them sternly. ‘If you must know, I’m following Hector’s recommendation to get some air to my wound, or have you forgotten I’ve recently been shot?’
‘In which case it would be a pleasure to lash you there permanently,’ offered Waff, still smarting at Doc’s miraculous recovery.
The exchange ended when Misty mischievously dipped her bow and Doc fell over.
‘Mind your head!’ shouted Waff joyfully.
‘Look!’ said Max, grabbing Sassy and Chantal with excitement, ‘the land – it’s nearly out of sight. We really are free!’
Noname stood alone at the foot of the foremast. He was not looking back but up at the billowing canvas, his eyes dancing with delight.
Ancell limped to join him. ‘Misty will see us safely home,’ he said.
‘I’d like this ship to be my home forever,’ said Noname, and for the first time Ancell saw him truly smile.
Soaring high above the creek, the sea eagle watched Misty and her extended family heel towards the rim of the horizon, a white dot on an ocean of blue, a world of her own tracking her joyful course homeward. The eagle also spied Hector snoozing on a mud bank and swooped down to annoy him.