Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Callista was up before dawn and everywhere on the deck, checking things, giving orders. Mor was there, she ignored him, and fortunately he kept his distance, for which she was grateful. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he came near her, stab him with Poesie most likely. She shut off the surge of anger directed towards him and channelled it back to the job at hand. Perez. Remember? Nothing mattered except getting Perez.

They hung off the Northeastern tip of Ascension Island until dawn broke the horizon and gave them enough light to spot their quarry. What if we’re wrong and the Esperanza isn’t here?

Sending Petey up to the Crowsnest with Mick’s spy glass as soon as the sun breached the horizon, she waited to find out if their gamble had paid off. Petey signalled an affirmative. The tension in her body eased. Petey climbed down from the rigging and gave Mick the direction of where the Esperanza was moored. She had pulled into a cove on the Northeastern end of the Island. The only reason they couldn’t see her from the deck was the promontory of rock that hid her from them. Petey pointed in the direction of the Island.

“You can see the top of the main mast from here if you know where to look,” he said. “From up in the nest you can see the sails and masts and most of the deck.”

The sense of anticipation on the deck was palpable. Excitement and fear was writ large on nearly every face in equal measures.

Callista squinted through the glass and then passed it to Mick. “Tides in, should be safe enough to move closer?”

Mick took the glass and after a moment nodded. “I don’t remember sandbanks being a problem here, but things change, I’ll take her in slowly.

With Mick at the helm this time, he brought them round the promontory into sight of the ship. It was sitting in the middle of a small cove, with a sandy beach, skirting the edge of a rocky landscape, with a few trees.

“Get us in range Mick!” She said, her pulse kicking up. “Then close as fast as you can so we can board!”

They closed rapidly on the Esperanza; the other ship was like a sitting duck.

Mr Coats let loose with a broadside that shook the Sea Devil and sent plumes of smoke over the water between the two ships. An explosion from the Esperanza and cries that went up, told Callista that something had met its target.

Mick closed on the other ship rapidly, nosed her prow into the starboard side of the Ezperanza’s stern. The men lashed the two ships together with the ropes they had ready and with a shout Callista lead the charge into the deck of the Esperanza. She was conscious of Mor beside her, she couldn’t look at him.

The crew from the slaver ship came at them with blood-curdling cries, their sabres and knives out. Callista raised her sabre and slashed at the nearest man. Shots were exchanged, but she was too busy fending off another attack to see who was shooting who. Chen was behind her; she knew that and was comforted by it. Mick had left the wheel with Juana and joined the tail end of the boarding party. Carlos was somewhere in the middle of the melee too.

Her arm slashed and parried attack after attack, cutting a swathe through Perez men. She caught a whiff of their collective stink. Unshaven, and out of condition, rabble the lot of them. Of course, Perez was too mean to pay his men well. In any case only the most desperate men would crew a slaver ship. The conditions aboard being so horrendous.

Where is Perez? Shouldn’t he be leading his men?

Then she spotted him in the middle of the main deck surrounded by a phalanx of men.

With a bellow, “Perez!” she jumped down off the quarterdeck to the main deck and ran at the group.

Connor parriedand spitted the man in front of him and dodged a swipe from another as he heard Callista’s voice yell, “Perez!”

Rolling out of the way, he got to his feet and scanned the ship. She was down on the main deck and heading for a group of men huddled around a dark visaged man with a beard and a cocked hat. Several figures trailed her, among them Chen, Mick and Carlos. To his left, Mr Adebayo held his own, despite his missing leg, with a man hell-bent on taking his head off. Adebayo fought like a man possessed, alongside of him Njinga parried and thrust like a tigress. The pair were cutting a swathe through Perez men.

On his right, McTavish and Fury fought side by side, enemies united to fight a common foe.

Leaving them to it, Connor leaped off the quarterdeck and plunged into the melee on the main deck, intent on getting to Callista’s side.

A shriek to his left made him look round as a dark-haired young woman in a yellow dress was dragged out of the cabin beneath the quarterdeck by two men. She kicked and screamed in Portuguese.

“Papa! Papa!”

Carlos yelled above the noise of the melee “Ana! My baby!”

Distracted by the sight of his daughter, Carlos didn’t see the blow coming until almost the last minute, as one of Perez men slashed at him. He parried, but it went awry, and the man’s sword connected with his upper arm, cutting a rapidly reddening slice through the bicep of his sword arm. His sword clattered to the deck as he staggered under the blow.

Ana was hauled screaming to Perez side where he clamped an arm around her and forcefully kissed her. She equally forcefully fought back, shoving him and trying to knee him in the balls, her hands became talons as she scraped his face and spat and screamed at him. He dodged all these attacks and laughed.

"Papa!” she sobbed desperately searching for her father among the melee. He had bent to pick up his sword in his left hand, using it to fend off a second blow. His right arm was red with blood by now.

Grabbing Ana’s hands, Perez twisted them behind her back and bound them quickly with a piece of rope, pulling it tight with his teeth. Pulling her bound arms up her back with his hand until she screamed in pain. He then turned to face the boarding party.

“Carlos! So nice of you to visit!” He said over Ana’s cries and the noise of the fighting still going on around them.

“Let her go!” bellowed Carlos, his face red with fury, even as he staggered.

“Now why would I do that?” Perez bared his very white teeth in a grin. Callista was right he is handsome. Disgustingly so.

Connor edged closer to Callista, the fighting on the main deck had ceased as all attention was moved to Perez. His men ringed him protectively and Callista shifted from one foot to the other, like a cat readying to pounce.

“Let her go Perez,” Callista’s voice cut through the noise of fighting from the quarterdeck. “Fight me, face me like a man. Don’t hide behind a woman, you pussy!” Her voice taunted and Connor held his breath. Fuck she is brave or crazy or both. Such a bait was a red rag to a bull for man of Perez’ temperament, if what Mick had told him was correct.

“No! Fight me!” said Mick shouldering his way forward.

“Me!” said Carlos joining him, staggering again and catching at Mick’s shoulder to stay up right.

Perez laughed at them. “A girl and two old men! You think you’re a match for me?”

“How about me?” said Connor stepping forward. “Am I man enough for you?”

“Irish stay out of this!” growled Callista. “This is my fight!”

Perez tightened his grip on Ana, making her scream again, and producing a knife he held it to her throat. “A pity! I quite liked this one! She is very good in bed. Goes down on you like a sweet praying mantis. Don’t you querida?” he forced another kiss on Ana who spat at him as soon as her mouth was free. He put the knife between his teeth and slapped her hard enough to make her head snap back and leave a livid red mark on her cheek.

“Arghh!” yelled Mick and launched himself at Perez with his sabre raised. Perez men leaped forward, and Connor ran at them to stop them cutting Mick down where he stood. With Carlos at his elbow, they cut and stabbed at Perez men and suddenly the melee was on again in full swing. Carlos, in spite of his wound, continued to stay upright and fight like a demon.

Connor lost sight of Callista in the frenzy of thrust and parry and stab as he fought man after man. There seemed to be no end to them, they just kept coming, and he lost Perez too in the thick of the fight.

Over his shoulder he heard a familiar voice cry out and watched a moment as Fury stepped in front of a blow aimed at McTavish. He went down and McTavish straddled his fallen body to protect it while he fought off blow after blow. Connor ducked an incoming stab from another of Perez men, dragging his eyes away from the Scotsman fighting like a dervish in the thick of a cluster of men.

Sometime later, he was still fighting, his arms aching from the effort to keep slashing at man after man, his breath laboured, and his shirt plastered to his body with sweat and generously splashed with blood. Mostly not his, thank Mary and the Saints.

Another blow came his way, and he raised his arm to block it. A white-hot slash bit into his upper arm and made his slippery grip falter. His sword fell from his hand and clanged to the deck as he felt a prick in his ribs and another in his back. He was surrounded by smelly, grubby, dishevelled pirates heaving their bad breath at him and grinning evilly. Four swords poked at him from different directions.

Afia watched through the grating,her heart in her mouth as boarders fought the men who held them captive. Are we rescued? Is this truly a rescue? She moved to get a better view of the figures who fought above her, there seemed to be quite a few women among them. She longed for a sword to join them and yelled encouragement through the grating cheering them on.

She caught sight of a black man among them, he had lost his left leg below the knee, but it didn’t seem to slow him down. He fought ferociously and was so covered in blood he looked like a monster of death. He descended from the quarterdeck to the main deck and passed over the top of her. Her breath caught in her throat for she thought she recognised him. Could it be?

She shrieked “Papa! Papa!” but he didn’t hear her, he seemed hell-bent on some mission from which nothing would deflect him, and he passed out of her sight.

She sobbed and turning pushed her way to the door pounding on it with her fists and screaming “Papa! Papa!”

There were sounds on the other side of the door of footsteps pounding on the deck, but the door didn’t open.

Callista foughther way through the melee, trying to get to Perez who still had Ana in his grip while he cut down anyone who managed to get through the ring of his men surrounding him.

“Perez, you filthy cur!” she yelled at him, cutting savagely at the man between her and her prize.

“It’s the She-Devil herself!” He taunted, grinning. “You look so like your mother you know!” He said dispatching another attempt to stab him from one of her crew.

She yelled like a Viking and slashed at the men who stood between her and Perez. Miraculously they parted like butter from a hot knife, and she was standing in front of him. She raised her sabre and slashed at him.

He laughed, dodging. Not losing his grip on Ana whom he dragged around like a sack with his left hand while he parried Callista’s attempts to hit him with his knife.

He was as slippery as an eel and fresh compared to her, for she’d fought through countless men to get to him.

Her breath heaved in her lungs and her arms felt like lead. But the words about her mother gave her another burst of fury, and she raised her sabre and advanced on him with deadly intent. He stepped backwards and came up against the rail of the ship.

For the first time she saw a flicker of fear in his black eyes.

She pulled back her arm to deliver the killing blow, and he said quickly. “Oh look, your handsome Irishman is captured. My men’ll spit him like a pig!”

Her arm faltered as her heart skipped, the tip of her sword mere inches from his chest. She glanced away and her heart froze. Connor was surrounded by four blades about to be skewered.

She swung her gaze back as a scream from Ana pierced her ears and she realised Perez had leaped over the rail and plunged into the water, taking Ana with him. She watched in frozen horror a moment as he clambered into the pinnace floating in the water and cutting the line, shoved Ana down into the boat and began rowing for the shore.

Everything in her urged her to jump in after him, but her gaze was drawn back to Connor and with a wrench, she bolted towards the group that had him surrounded, and laid into the nearest man with her sword. This distraction enabled Connor to lunge for his dropped sword and soon the two of them were back-to-back, fighting off Perez’ men who didn’t seem to realise that their captain had abandoned them.

Below the deck Afia,her ear pressed to the door, heard a roar as if a hundred voices all called at once in a rousing cheer, then the pounding of more footsteps and finally the sound of the lock being knocked off with something heavy and the door swung open.

The bloodied man stood there, his chest heaving, his shirt splattered crimson, his eyes wild and his tightly curling hair matted with blood. His blade dripped blood to the deck.

It was him, she flung herself at him. “Papa! You’re alive!”

He staggered under the weight of her body, and they were both driven back by the surge of women and children behind them all trying to push through the door with yells and cheers and shrieks.

“Afia?” he said blinking at her.

She nodded, sobbing. “Have you seen Omari? He is on the deck below - I haven’t seen him for weeks. Please tell me is still alive?”

“I don’t know. Azka’s bones, Afia, is it really you?” He hugged her close, tears in his eyes, making runnels in the blood on his cheeks. “Come you must wait somewhere safe, this isn’t over yet, come with me, if Omari is here, I’ll find him for you.”

A flood of male slaves suddenly appeared swarming up from the deck below. “Ah Njinga has freed them!” he said and with his arm around her, he fought his way through the stream of male bodies. If it was like it was with the women, there were many who were too ill to move, but any who were able-bodied enough, were pouring onto this deck, some of them looking for wives or family members, others heading for the upper deck looking for slavers.

Then she saw him, climbing up the ladder from the deck below. He was thin like her, so gaunt of face he was almost unrecognisable, but she knew it was him.

“Omari!” she fought through the throng as he climbed from the ladder and turned his head in her direction. The next moment he was pushing through the press of bodies and reached her side.

“Afia!” tears ran down his cheeks at the sight of her. “I thought you fell off the side of the ship! You mad woman! What were your trying to do?”

She set Zuri down and flung herself into his arms and he hugged her close, her own tears splashing his skin. “You’re alive! Thank Azaka, you’re alive!” he said his voice so choked she could barely make out the words.

“You’re alive!” she said back to him. “I found Papa; he is here.” She turned to find her father, but she couldn’t see him. “He came with the ship that rescued us. Come up to the deck, we will find him.” She turned and grabbed up Zuri, planting the child on her hip. “This is Zuri, her mother died two days ago. I’ve been looking after her.” She looked down at the little girl who appeared overwhelmed by the storm around her. The noise was fearsome. “Zuri this is my husband, Omari.”

The child stared at him, and Omari smiled at her. She tentatively smiled back.

“Come let’s find Papa.”

Callista looked around moments later,as a flood of Black men came pouring out of the hold and laid about them like whirling dervishes with bits of wood and metal in a frenzy of hate. Adebayo and Njinga had fought their way below and begun to free the slaves!

It was all over shortly after that, as more and more slaves poured onto the deck and took out Perez men, who were so terrified of the slaves that several of them leaped overboard in an attempt to get away from them. The slaves went after them and drowned them. In half an hour, it seemed that there were none of Perez men left alive. The deck was awash with blood. It was a massacre.

Callista picked her way through the bodies on the deck, looking for her crew. She found Mick and Chen, bloodied but unharmed, tending to a wounded Carlos. He was down on the deck still bleeding. Mick had tied a torniquet to his arm, but it wasn’t doing much. They needed to get him back to the Sea Devil quickly.

“Ana!” he panted on catching sight of her. “My Ana where is she?”

“Perez has her,” said Callista grimly. “Don’t worry he won’t get far; we will get him.”

The stench of blood and the reek wafting up from below decks was horrendous and more slaves began appearing. Among them, raggedly dressed women and children blinking in the bright sunlight.

“Perez?” rasped Mick looking up from his attempts to staunch Carlos’ bleeding.

“He got away. He took the ships pinnace towards the shore. We need to go after him. I just need to get this ship secured and we’ll go get him. He can’t get away, there is nowhere to go.”

She turned and ran into Mr Adebayo, he was covered in blood, his eyes wide and feral, his teeth a slash of white between his spread lips. “The ship is ours Captain.”

“Yes, well done Ayo. We need to clean it up. Can you send someone to fetch Mr Coats, he will help you organise it. Liang and Mr Chetwynde will see to the injured and sick. I need to go get Perez. He escaped.”

The Black man nodded. “Aye Captain.”

She turned and he said softly. “Thank you. I found my eldest daughter among the slaves. She and her husband were taken in this last raid. They are alive and free now, thanks to you.” He sniffed, his eyes glistening with tears.

She turned back and blinked her eyes. “You’re - you’re welcome, Ayo.” She had been so intent on getting Perez she had given only scant thought to what this would mean to the slaves. “We will take them to Freetown, tell them they are all free, won’t you?”

“I will Captain.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She turned back to the others and said, “come on let’s get Perez.”