Part 9

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The officers of the Waverunner sat around the table in their mess at lunch time, picking at their plates of Salt-pork and brewis, another one of Doc's many faces of hardtack.

"Dunkirk, what is the mood of the crew?" Karinga asked.

"They have been a might skittish these past four days," the boatswain answered. "Everyone will breathe a lot easier once we put into Port Cauldwell tomorrow night."

David sighed. "I really don't know what everyone is so worried about. I mean, my God! Even Ferndock let us pass!"

"Tanner, it is stressful to them. They are terrified of indentured servitude if anything happens to the gold," Dunkirk explained. "Besides, there was a red sky this morning."

The young Yeoman shook his head and tore off a piece of salt pork. "Sailors and their superstitions. In a day and a half, we shall be enjoying our biggest payday yet."

They went back to quietly eating their meal, when there was a quick knock on the door. Doc opened it, his eyes wide with worry. "Captain, ship dead ahead."

Dunkirk glared at Tanner. "Superstitions, huh?"

"Coincidence. It is probably just another cargo ship."

Fyke got up and made his way out onto the deck. It was high noon and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, so he had to shield his eyes and let them adjust to the glaring light.

He walked over to Karinga, who was standing at the jib, staring through the looking glass. "That is awfully big to be a cargo ship. It is right in our path. Corwyn, tell the helm to go twenty-five degrees port."

Fyke turned and yelled "Twenty-five degrees port!"

"Twenty-five degrees port, aye!" the helmsman yelled back.

The ship lurched a little as it altered course, taking it out of the direct path of the unknown vessel. The entire crew stood nervously, waiting to see what the other ship would do. Every second seemed like an eternity as they waited.

"She's altered course! Looks like she is intent on intercepting us!" Karinga told Fyke. "Let's not let the crew know just yet. I don't want them to panic."

"Aye, Captain," Corwyn replied.

They waited, watching the ship become bigger on the horizon. David Tanner had joined them, as had Edge.

"Any idea who they are, Captain?" Edge asked.

"Not yet. I see their flag, but I can't make it...." All the color drained from Karinga's face. "Oh dear God. It's Black Jack Mulligan!"

"It's Black Jack Mulligan," Edge yelled. The crew immediately began to panic.

Corwyn's stomach twisted into knots. Black Jack Mulligan, the most feared pirate to sail the Decian Sea in generations! No one ever escaped him, and he left none of the crew alive.

"Can we outrun him?" Corwyn asked.

"Doubtful," David replied. "He has a four mast ship, and look at the narrow build. They build ships like that up in Scandinavia. They are made for speed and ramming.

Despair washed over Corwyn's soul as their last hope of survival had been dashed. He looked down and shook his head.

The captain put his hand on his first mate's shoulder. "We may die, but we are going to take as many of those pirates with us," Karinga said.

Fyke looked up as the Griffon moved closer. "Well, at least I got to eat at that Macedonian restaurant before I died."

David's eyes went wide. "Macedonian! Fyke, you're a genius! Captain, I have an idea! Send someone to fetch forty of those decorative shields we are carrying. Bring one to me."

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