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

The Spectre Barque

As the minutes ticked by, my fingers cramped and my arms grew heavy from the effort of clutching the ladder. Yet if I released it for even an instant the boat would drift away in the fog, and I would be lost. The strain on my muscles began to make them burn, and I glanced about for some way to tie the boat to the Berwick's ladder. The only rope in our boat lay coiled in the bow, too far for me to reach without letting go of the ladder. I strained my ears hoping to hear the thump of Hector's boots returning to the gangway, but there was no sound from the ship.

My head began to droop, and my gaze rested absently on the narrow scarf I always wore tied at my waist. Tia Dalma's silken spancel! I gave a little gasp of relief---this was better than any ordinary rope, having the power to bind things together with magic. With one hand I untied the spancel, then looped it about one of the ladder's steps and knotted it tightly around the nearest oarlock.

With the boat thus secured, I sat down and rubbed my arms. Something was pressed against my boot, and my spirits instantly sank as I realised I had nearly trod on the golden tablet.

My promises to Maroto weighed upon my heart like a stone slab, and I reproached myself for my shortcomings. I should have gone back to the island when he asked. I should not have confided in Hector. I should have made sure the map was destroyed. Maroto had been wrong to place his faith in me, and he had paid with his life.

I stared at the tablet, wondering why I seemed to balk at every chance to destroy it. I was letting Maroto down even at this very moment by not heaving it into the sea. Why not do it now, when Hector couldn't stop me?

But I had chosen to tell Hector about the map because I wanted no secrets between us. I had made him my partner in this venture. I was determined to persuade him that the Fountain was a cheat and a danger to all mankind. Then we would destroy the map---together.

I eyed the tablet uneasily. Until I was satisfied that Hector agreed with my purpose, I decided that the best course of action was to keep it with me. Sliding it under my shirt, I winced at the sting of its cold surface against my skin, and folded my arms across my chest. I muttered a few words to Maroto's ghost, wherever he might be. "I won't let you down this time, Padre. And once the map is gone, I promise to find Ponce de Leon and get that sword away from him." I sighed. "Somehow..."

Just then there was movement on the ladder, making the boat bump awkwardly against the Berwick. Hector's boots appeared on the rungs as he climbed down. He descended halfway, then looked about and spied me sitting nearby.

"Not a soul on her," he said. "She's safe t' board. Where be the map?" He surveyed the boat.

"I have it," I patted my shirt. "Let's be off then."

I followed him up the ladder, stopping to untie the spancel. By the time I had climbed three rungs higher, the Medusa's boat had already floated away into the fog.

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Under the circumstances, it was a relief to board any sort of ship, even one whose former crew had suffered a sinister and unexplained fate. The Berwick was our best chance for survival, and my faith in Hector's seamanship was absolute. When I stepped onto the deck, he was already holding the sounding line. I stood behind him while he swung its lead weight and threw it into the sea, and we counted out the fathoms together. At last he shook his head.

"Too deep fer a proper anchor," he said. "We'll make a sea anchor---bind up a sail and let it drag behind the ship."

This would keep the Berwick more or less in the same area, but I was tiring. "It seems a deal of trouble. The seas are quite calm here."