Truelove managed to open one eye but the other was swollen shut. For several moments he couldn’t figure out where he was, why he was there, or why he was so uncomfortable. Slowly it all returned to him. Unsportsmanlike! He would have chuckled if he didn’t hurt so badly and if something painfully large and well secured wasn’t stuffed in his mouth. He’d been in the business long enough to appreciate the work of a professional, even at his own expense. Sometimes, given the nature of that brilliant fool Billingsly and the treacherous cause they served, Truelove couldn’t help but appreciate a fellow professional, especially when it came at his expense. He’d been at it too long and he’d grown jaded. He did like the money, but his heart just wasn’t much in it anymore. Another thought would have made him laugh. He’d told his adversary his swordsmanship was work while Truelove’s own was play. It suddenly occurred to him that, though that may be true, Silva’s… “professionalism” was still play, while his own had become work. Such irony.
He could barely move his head, but with his one good eye, he gazed around the compartment. Two dead men. A lot of blood. Wait! He was back in the magazine itself! There were no muskets, just barrels of powder secured all around. If I’m in the magazine, where is that flickering light coming from? He looked up, but couldn’t quite see. After much wriggling, he managed to force his head back just far enough.
Oh, bravo! he said to himself as the charred rope parted and the burning rum bottle dropped.
The current ran swiftly here and the men and women in the launch had rowed for their lives. All knew Ajax might turn at any moment and chase them down, but a couple of those on the boat suspected there might be further reason for gaining distance while they could. Ajax ’s own momentum and the prevailing wind kept her pointed east, while the current carried the launch and its occupants west-northwest. Therefore, they’d gained almost two miles’ distance from the ship when the night suddenly lit with a blinding flash that drew all their stares.
The entire aft half of Ajax erupted amid a yellow-red ball of fire, scattering masts, beams, yards, timbers, shards of burning rope and drifting canvas far across the sea. There was little steam left in her boiler, but a great steamy plume shot skyward when seawater touched the hot iron. Another similar blast demolished the forward part of the ship when the other magazine went. The bowsprit was launched entirely out of view like an enormous javelin. Ajax ’s death took only seconds, but to those in the distant boat, it seemed to last much longer. The rolling, staccato, thunderous punch of the blast finally reached them with a physical jolt, and for what felt like whole minutes, flaming debris, blocks, an entire gun and carriage, bodies-or parts of bodies-rained down to splash amid the already vanishing flames.
“My ship,” murmured Rajendra.
“My God, Silva, what have you done?” Sandra whispered.
Dennis stood up in the boat and glared around at the dozen or so survivors. “Why is it ever’ time somethin’ like this happens, it’s ‘Lawsy me, what’s ol’ Silva done now’? I’m sick an’ tired of it, hear! Might give a fella the benefit o’ the doubt now an’ again!”
“Did you… do something… that might have destroyed that ship?” Rebecca asked quietly.
Dennis looked harshly at her for a moment, then glanced at his feet. “Well… what if I did? What were we gonna do? Row off from ’em? That wadn’t ever gonna work, not after Rajendra and his bunch decided they wanted to come with us! Sneakin’ off ourselves was one thing. They wouldn’ta noticed us gone till they came to feed us the next day, and we woulda had a lot of ocean to hide in.” He glared at the men from Ajax again. “A ship’s captain, engineer, carpenter-an’ who knows what else-disappear in the middle of a distraction like was necessary to get so many off, somebody’s gonna take notice! Somebody did!”
Rajendra stood too, slightly jostling the boat. “You… murdering filth! You murder my ship and all her crew and then have the nerve to say you did it because of us? Because we came with you? How would you have escaped without our help-without the help of some of the men you killed this night who had to stay behind?”
“It wadn’t your ship no more, genius!” Silva bellowed. He was fed up. “You were in the same fix we were. Don’t you dare stand there an’ act all sancti-fidious at me when you wouldn’t even rear up on your hind legs an’ try to take your ship back! When you blew Cap’n Lelaa’s ship outa the water with all her people on it! You coulda saved your ship then, if you’d pulled your pistol an’ shot Billingsly square betwixt the eyes! That prob’ly woulda been the end of it right there, because whatever else you are, or your crew was, you were the goddamn captain! Instead, you said, ‘Yes, sir! You’re the boss!’ an’ killed two hundred of our folks! Then you slunk around whinin’ how it wadn’t your fault!”
Silva looked at Sandra, knowing she, at least, would believe his next words. “I had me a little plan to get us off the ship. Mighta worked. We mighta got off without killin’ hardly anybody”-he shrugged-“or I mighta still blown up your ship. That was always plan B. When I heard your plan, I figgered it ’ud be easier-an’ safer-for us an’ the princess. But only if I dusted off plan B an’ made it part o’ plan A! Well, the plans worked, yours an’ mine, an’ here we are. I’m sorry if I killed some good fellas, but I ain’t that damn sorry.” He pointed at the pistol on Rajendra’s belt. “You can try to shoot me now, an’ maybe that’ll prove you ain’t as yellow as I think you are, but I’ll kill you an’ you’ll just be dead instead o’ helpin’ out now, when your princess needs you. Or you can prove you weren’t never yellow at all-just confused an’ a little scared, in a fix you hadn’t come upon before. I’ve heard that happens to folks. You can prove that by bein’ a good captain for what’s left of your crew, an’ by helpin’ Larry an’ Captain Lelaa-if she’ll have you-navigate our way to the boosum o’ Larry’s lovin’ home.”
Slowly, Rajendra sat. Some of what Silva had said must have struck a chord, because he lowered his eyes and then stared at the few distant flickering fires that marked the grave of his ship and crew. His expression was desolate. “Who is to be in charge, then?” he finally asked, controlling his voice.
“Lieutenant-rather, Minister-Tucker,” Princess Rebecca said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Now that we’re all on the same side, she is the highest-ranking official present, myself excluded. If you prefer, you may consider her as my proxy, but you will obey her.”
“What about him?” asked the engineer, referring to Silva.
“As has been most… eloquently… presented, if Mr. Silva is to be arrested, I must have Captain Rajendra arrested as well. What purpose would that serve? Mr. Silva will retain his position as my chief armsman and personal protector-provided he at least consults me before destroying any more of His Majesty’s property.”
Dennis looked at the girl. He’d more than half expected her to despise him for what he’d done, and the relief he felt was indescribable.
“Well,” he said, a bit huskily, “I’ll sure try.”
Sandra took a deep breath. “All right, let’s get on with it. Captain Lelaa, you have the helm. Lawrence, assist her with the compass, if you please. Captain Rajendra? I assume this vessel has a sail?”
CHAPTER 24
“ Report from the crow’s nest, Captain,” Reynolds said. “Sail on the horizon, bearing zero one zero.”
“Very well. Helm, make your course zero one zero, if you please,” Matt ordered. He raised his binoculars.
“Making my course see-ro one see-ro, ay!” replied Staas-Fin at the wheel.
“Uh, Skipper?” Reynolds continued. “Wouldn’t this be a good time to put my plane in the water and let me fly over there and have a look?”