The Buccaneers by Iain Lawrence

Author:Iain Lawrence [Lawrence, Iain]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-51518-6
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2001-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

A STRANGE AMBITION

T hey're not wrecked,” I said. “They've careened the ship.” But in my heart I feared he was right. Either way it made little difference, for we couldn't hope to reach the cay without a boat. No matter how I looked at it, we were stranded on the island.

“We'll have to wait,” said Dasher.

“Can you go back and get a boat?” I asked.

“From Bartholomew Grace? Not a chance!”

“Why not?” said I. “You told me you've joined them.”

“Well, it was just a temporary join,” he said. “A bit of paste is all, not a mortise and tenon. If I showed my face at the pirate camp, they'd slice me up like a carrot.”

“Then what do we do?” I asked.

“We wait, like I said.” And with that, Dasher sat on the sand, his back against a coconut palm. “The tide's flooding now. When it turns to the ebb, Bartholomew Grace will weigh anchor for Kingston.”

“Why Kingston?” I wondered.

“Oh, he's got a plan,” said Dasher. “He's got a lunatic scheme. He's going to stuff our brig with all the powder that he found, with the grenades and the bombs and all, and he's going to set it off in the middle of the English fleet. He's going to blow them all to kingdom come.”

My head reeled at the thought. I remembered the ships in their tight columns and rows, and I saw a fire raging through them, leaping from mast to mast, from ship to ship. Each one was full of powder; each would explode in turn, spreading the flames farther and farther.

The fragile treaty that England had with France wouldn't last for very long. With her Indies fleet destroyed, England would be weakened everywhere. The peace was so tenuous that Grace might even break it by himself.

“He could start another war like that,” I said.

“Why, that's just what he wants,” said Dasher. “When a country's fighting, it doesn't bother much with buccaneers.”

I prodded his shoulder. “Get up,” I said.

Dasher tipped back his head. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the harbor.” I pulled on the strap of his wineskin. “We have to sink that brig.”

“Not I. No, thank you, John.” He lowered his head to stare again across the sand, at the groundswell breaking in a steady heave of gold-stained water. “I'll stay here, I think. If what you say is right, and the Dragons just careened, she'll float up on the tide and we can signal to her then.”

“The Apostle will be out,” I said.

“But she won't. John, you don't think things through, that's your trouble. You're too quick to act, and you always were. Grace can't go out when the tide's on the flood.”

He was right. I'd seen the way the current made a gate of the harbor entrance. It wouldn't open for Grace until the tide had peaked and was falling again. By then the Dragon would be floating.

Or would she?

“What if they careen the Dragon on the other side?” I said. “What if she really is wrecked?”

Dasher shrugged.

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