His mate, an old sailor named Alphegus, voiced their concerns. 'We can't house and feed this lot all the way to Honfleur!' he exclaimed, as under Gabriel's direction the soldiers clambered down ladders into the hold and out of sight. He was already puzzled, as the ship had loaded no other cargo for the alleged voyage to Normandy.
De Wile placed an arm reassuringly around the old sea dog's shoulders. 'Don't worry about feeding them, Alphegus — they've got rations for a day in their pouches. We should only be out for a couple of tides!'
With the other five crew clustered around, he at last explained what they were doing. Though the coroner had been a little concerned at virtually tricking the crew into this venture, they were quite happy to go along with it, partly because they felt safe enough with eighteen armed men aboard and also because they wanted to see revenge wreaked on those who had caused the deaths of fellow mariners.
At high water they cast off and the ebb tide and light breeze took them down towards the open sea, where they turned south-east and began to cross the wide expanse of Lyme Bay. Until another vessel came in sight — if it ever did — there was no need for the men to be concealed, though all but de Wolfe, Morin and Gwyn did stay in the hold, most of them playing dice on top of the boxes of spurious silver.
The offshore wind was light and mainly northerly, unlike the last time John ventured to sea a few weeks before. Then the strong south-westerly hurried them up-Channel, but this much slower progress suited their purpose better, as it gave them more time to be exposed to any rogue ship searching for them. To increase their lingering even more, Angerus deliberately failed to make the best use of the yard-sheets and steering oar, so that they meandered away from the mouth of the Exe, slowly increasing their distance from the land. It was fairly hazy, and by noon the coast of Devon and Dorset was just a misty blur on the northern horizon. De Wolfe was beginning to fear that the whole venture was going to be a complete failure and a waste of several weeks of careful preparation.
'Where are we now?' he asked the shipmaster, who was standing alongside Alphegus, who manned the steering oar.
'About level with the Axe, Sir John,' replied the shipmaster. 'But a long way out. There would be no point in trying to flaunt ourselves as a possible victim within clear sight of the shore.'
Half an hour later that landfall had melted into the mist, though east and west, where the haze was thinner, Portland Bill and Start Point could just be glimpsed. The sea was calm, with just a slight swell passing under the ungainly hull — which was just as well, as the effectiveness of some of the men-at-arms would have been badly blunted by seasickness.
Those on deck stared into the distance until their eyes watered, feeling increasingly disappointed as the time went by.
'Can we turn around and go back for a while, to give them a better chance of seeing us?' demanded Ralph Morin, utterly ignorant of the ways of the sea.
The shipmaster shook his head. 'Not against this wind — and anyway it would be obvious that we were heading in the wrong direction for the treasure ship.'
One of the crew had clambered up the rigging and sat perilously on the centre of the yard that supported the single large sail. A few minutes later he gave a yell and called down to those on the afterdeck.
There's a sail away to the nor'-east. Coming out of the haze in this direction.'
There was a buzz of excitement, which was taken up by the soldiers in the hold, who were getting bored even with their gaming.
'How far away?' yelled Angerus, turning his pugnacious face upwards to the lookout.
'About five miles, I reckon.'
The master turned to the coroner and constable. 'Too far yet to see who it is. Might be a legitimate trader out of Lyme or Axmouth. I'll just keep on this course and see what they do.'
Morin motioned towards the hold. 'We'd better get out of sight soon and just leave the crew on deck.'
They went to one of the short ladders that were propped against the inner edge of the hatch-coaming and went down, to join their men. The hold was normally closed by a series of heavy planks across the opening and covered with a canvas sheet. Now, only a few of these boards were in place and the cover loosely draped across them.
Half an hour later Angerus came to the edge of the hold and called down. 'That vessel is coming straight for us, about two miles away. We are out of sight of land altogether now.'
'Can you see what ship it is?' asked de Wolfe.
'Not yet, just another cog, but she's going to cross our path soon, though I'm not making my best speed.'
'Perhaps you better had,' suggested Gwyn. 'If she is a pirate, her master will be suspicious if you don't try to get clear.'
There was some shouting and creaking of ropes and spars as Angerus went through the motions of getting a fraction better performance out of the St Radegund.
After another half-hour, de Wile called out again, sounding anxious. 'I'm sure it's The Tiger — she's closing on us fast. Another few minutes and she'll be here!'
Ralph Morin climbed partway up the ladder and peered over the hatch-coaming. 'You'd better act scared, Angerus,' he ordered. 'Get your men to run around and point. We'll stay quiet down here until they actually start to board, then you cross to t' other side of the vessel and keep out of the way!'
He motioned to the others in the hold to keep quiet, as sounds travel far across water on a calm day. They all drew their swords and a few had maces or long knives in their other hands, ready for action.
John felt the frisson of excitement that always pervaded him just before a fight. Gwyn was grinning broadly at the prospect, slipping his left wrist through the leather loop of his fearsome ball and chain.
In a few minutes they heard their own crew shouting defiance that held a fearful tremor that was not all feigned. Almost at once, a more distant yelling began and they heard, the creaking and splashing of another vessel as she came at them from astern with her port side towards their bow, then a lurch and grinding as she slid along their hull, deliberately smashing the steering oar to disable them.
There was a rattling as several grappling hooks were thrown over their side and the St Radegund lurched again as the two cogs locked together. All this was accompanied by bloodthirsty yelling from the crew of The Tiger, as they began to clamber over the gunwales.
'Right, men, get up and kill the bastards!' roared the constable. As the troop commander, he was in charge, but John and Gwyn were alongside at two of the other ladders, leading some of the men-at-arms up on to the deck. Angerus and his crew had wisely taken Ralph's advice and were running down the port side towards the bow, leaving the waist of the vessel free for the attackers to board. Five or six men were clambering down from the rail, waving knives and swords, as Morin and the others suddenly materialised in front of them.
Their shocked surprise was almost ludicrous as they saw more than a dozen armed soldiers swarm out of the hatch and advance upon them with raised weapons.
'Back, get back aboard!' screamed the first man across the gunwale, but it was too late. John saw that the leader was Martin Rof, and he ran at him with a roar, his own sword upraised. The master of The Tiger was no coward and parried John's blow with a clash of metal, as Gwyn and Morin forced other men back against the thick wooden bulwark that ran around the deck.