PIRATE: Privateer Read Online Free PDF

said to his son, ‘do exactly as you are told. I suspect the lady means what she says.’
    He levered himself to his feet and limped out of the cabin, followed by Felipe with Anne-Marie still holding the gun to his head.
    The moment Anne-Marie emerged on deck, she let out a piercing whistle. In response her two brothers in the skiff rowed across and clambered aboard. It was all done with so little fuss that
Hector had the feeling that this routine was something the Bretons had done before. Wordlessly Yannick and Roparzh removed the two blunderbusses from the crew of the urca and herded the sailors
into a group.
    As they shuffled meekly together, the Spanish cabin boy took it into his head to make a dash at Anne-Marie, trying to seize her pistol. Hector was so surprised that, without a second thought, he
reached out and grabbed the lad by the collar. The boy swung round, flailing in the air with his fists, until a sharp command from Captain Fonseca made him stop.
    Felipe had gone pale, but Anne-Marie’s hand was as steady as her voice. ‘Hector, select two men from the crew and supervise them while they fetch water jars and place them in our
boat. Roparzh, see what sails there are.’
    ‘At least leave me a jib,’ said the Spanish captain calmly. He seemed to know exactly what the Bretons were doing.
    Her brother prodded one of the Spanish sailors with the muzzle of his blunderbuss. ‘
Gouel!
’ he ordered in Breton, and when the man looked blank, pointed up at the
San
Gil
’s mainsail. ‘
Voiles! Vela!
’ and followed the sailor below.
    Hector picked out two of the older Spaniards, and they began to lug the heavy water jars from their stowage by the galley. As they lowered the jars into the
Morvaut
’s tender,
Roparzh reappeared with the Spanish sailor. Between them they were dragging a length of canvas which they dumped near the mast. Next Yannick eased off the main halyard until the mainsail lay in an
untidy heap on deck.
    With her free hand Anne-Marie beckoned to the cabin boy, who stood glowering at her. ‘You help the cook, don’t you?’ she said in slow, careful Spanish.
    The lad nodded.
    ‘Fetch me his oil,’ she said.
    ‘Do as she says,’ ordered Fonseca quietly. He appeared to accept whatever was to happen next. The boy meekly went off on his errand. More sails were heaped on deck. The cabin boy
came back with a greasy pan of cooking oil and was told to dump it on the cloth. As Hector brought the last water jar from the galley, he met Roparzh with a rum bottle in his hand. The Breton took
a swig. ‘Pity about the waste. But I’ve found a small keg which I’ll put in the skiff,’ he said. He sprinkled the remaining contents of the bottle on the heap of canvas.
Hector saw growing distress on the faces of the crew.
    Finally Roparzh fetched a lump of glowing charcoal from the galley and tossed it on the sails.
    In the hot sunshine everyone stood and watched in silence as the fire gradually took hold. A tendril of grey smoke oozed upwards. There was a slight explosive puff as a puddle of rum caught
alight. A line of flame ran up a fold of dry canvas, and suddenly all of
San Gil
’s sails were ablaze except for a single headsail which had been left hanging from its stay.
    Anne-Marie pressed the pistol more firmly to Felipe’s head. ‘Can you swim?’ she asked. The young man nodded cautiously.
    She addressed his father. ‘Captain Fonseca, if anyone shoots at us, you will be pulling your son’s corpse from the sea.’
    ‘I understand,’ said Juan Garcia wearily.
    Anne-Marie began to hustle Felipe into the skiff. ‘Come on, Hector,’ she said. ‘It’s time to go.’ Hector climbed down into the boat. Roparzh handed down a small keg
of rum to his brother, and the two Breton men took their places and began to row. As the gap widened between the skiff and the urca, Anne-Marie reached into a pocket, withdrew a handful of silver
cobs, and flung them. The scatter of money arced through