Pirates of the Caribbean:The Spanish Prisoner (Book 2 King's Messenger Series)

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Cannons! There was no mistaking the sound of great guns.

But now that I had awakened, all was silent. Had the roar of a ship's guns broken through my dream, or were they part of it? I strained to hear, holding my breath. There was nothing. I must have dreamt the sound so vividly that it startled me awake, its faint echo ringing in my ears even now.

I raised my head, then propped myself up on my elbows. Hector sat up beside me, tense and alert. Perhaps it hadn't been a dream after all.

"Did you hear it as well?" I whispered. "Could Jack be bringing the Pearl back to help us?" But I knew that was impossible. The Pearl had sailed hours ago, under cover of the heavy fog. She had gone long before the mutiny.

"Nay," Hector muttered. "Twas the sound o' some other ship's guns."

We sat motionless in the dark brig, listening uneasily.

After a few moments, Maroto's words suddenly popped into my mind. If you even think he is attacking...

"We need to go," I burst out. "Now, while we have time. This is our chance!" I began working my wrists back and forth, slowly but steadily loosening the ropes. At last I was able to squeeze one hand enough to pull it out. Then I tugged the ropes off my other hand and was free.

I grabbed Hector's manacles and took a pin from my hair. He chuckled. "You an' yer pins..."

"Hold still," I said. "I must do this by sound and touch." A few moments later and I had released him. "Now for the door."

"Wait! We've no plan, woman---no bearings nor heading! Ye can't make it up as ye go along! How d' we plan to take back the ship?"

"We're not taking her back," I replied, busy with the door lock. "We're abandoning her."

A heavy paw clamped my shoulder and spun me about. "Abandon her?" He sounded horrified. "Yer as mad as Maroto! An' where, pray tell, do we go?"

"Into one of the longboats," I said impatiently. This seemed the merest detail---my concentration was on leaving the Medusa as Maroto had advised.

A second blast came, followed by a crash directly above us. "That one struck her gun deck!" Hector exclaimed.

"Don't you see?" I demanded. "If it isn't the Pearl, then who is it? What other ship would be out here in the midst of an uncharted sea?"

He hesitated, but only for an instant. "I care not if it be the devil himself! I'll still be takin' me ship back, thank ye---an' the map with it!"

His pig-headed insistence made me want to kill him. How was I to get him off the Medusa, short of pushing him? But before I could deliver a volley of angry words, I had a sudden inspiration. I nodded my agreement. "As you like--weapons first. Then, to your quarters for the map."

We soon discovered that our weapons had been jammed muzzle-first into a small wooden barrel near the foot of the stair. Arming ourselves, we rushed up to the gun deck. The uproar was deafening. The attacking vessel had blown holes in the sides of the ship, and chaos reigned as the gunners scrambled to ready the cannons amidst clouds of dust and debris. The deck was strewn with splinters of iron and wood, bits of broken rigging and pools of blood. A cacophony of shouted orders assaulted our ears, whilst ammunition and buckets of water were delivered at a hot pace, and casualties were dragged away.

I had hoped we could slip past in the confusion, but some of the men spotted us and charged. I fired my pistols and dropped two of them, then drew my scimitar.

Hector, a cutlass in each hand, held off four gunners, slashing the weapons from their hands with lightning fast strokes. "Main deck," he shouted to me. "Now!" Without pausing to question his orders, I dashed up the steps and emerged just outside the great cabin. I hid behind the quarterdeck stairs and scanned my surroundings.