cog. The voice of Falcus hissed at them from the boat. ‘What happened? Someone put those fires out!’
Cole took stock of the situation. Red Bounty’s small crew were standing around gaping at the burning platform, completely oblivious to the mutiny happening on their ship. This was the moment.
‘Make for the boat!’ he yelled. He bounded across the deck, leaping over coils of rope and piles of crates. The cog’s second rowing boat was secured near the mizzenmast. Three-Finger and Jack fell upon it with hatchet and axe, cutting away the lines that held it in place. The twelve men lifted the boat above their heads and lowered it over the side of the ship with a splash. Jack fetched up a coil of rope and tied one end to the railing. Then he hurled the rest over the side, where it unravelled all the way down to the water.
‘Down the rope,’ Cole yelled. Each of the prisoners took hold of the rope and slid down into the waiting boat. It was only designed to carry eight passengers but they piled in regardless, each man grabbing an oar and paddling for dear life towards the Redemption in the distance.
We’re going to do this, thought Cole in elation. After what seemed like an eternity they reached the carrack. There was a grappling hook in the boat, and Jack threw it with masterful aim so that it snagged the prow of the ship above them. One by one they scaled the rope and climbed up onto the deck of the Redemption.
A young sailor stared at the newcomers with confusion. ‘Hey, what are you doing—’ he began, but Three-Finger’s hatchet took him in the middle of the head and split his face in half.
Captain Kramer ran over, flanked by two soldiers who hadn’t boarded the boat sent to investigate the burning platform. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded.
Cole stepped forwards. ‘We’re taking this ship, Captain. Turn her around and sail due west immediately.’
Kramer’s jaw clenched and he ground his teeth together as if he was trying to chew rocks. ‘Not a chance! Men, kill these bastards!’
The two Watchmen raised their swords and were met by Three-Finger, Jack and four other captives. It was brief and bloody. The soldiers were better armed, but the escapees were desperate and outnumbered the red-cloaked soldiers three to one.
The man whose teeth had been shattered took a sword through the chest, but the Watchmen were soon stabbed, bludgeoned and stomped to death by the remaining runaways.
The Redemption’s small crew had fetched their weapons in the mêlée. They now stood facing the escapees uncertainly. Three-Finger had an arm around Kramer’s throat, the edge of his hatchet tickling the captain’s chin. ‘Tell your men to back off and turn this ship around,’ he snarled.
‘Fuck yourself,’ Kramer replied.
Three-Finger’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper. ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard about me,’ he said, ‘but whatever it was, it doesn’t come halfway near the truth. I can do things to you that’d make a trained soldier piss his pants. Turn this ship around or I’ll decorate it with your body parts. Beginning with your cock.’ The convict withdrew the hatchet from Kramer’s neck and positioned it just above his groin.
The disgraced admiral swallowed and eventually his shoulders sagged. ‘All hands to deck,’ he commanded his crew, his voice full of resignation. ‘We sail west.’
The Redemption’s crew responded immediately to the order. Cole watched Red Bounty anxiously, expecting to see boats full of Crimson Watchmen closing on them at any moment, but the soldiers were still busy trying to put out the flames on the floating platform. Soon they were under way. With the wind strong in her sails the Redemption would soon outpace even the most determined team of rowers.
‘Movement portside,’ yelled Jack. ‘A hundred yards distant.’
Cole squinted at the dark shape bobbing slowly in their direction. The last of the light had almost fled and every second put more space between them, but the struggling figure was unmistakable.
Soeman.
He seemed to be slowing down. Every so often the engineer would dip below the waves only to emerge again a moment later.
Three-Finger wandered over to the bow and stood next to Cole. ‘Now that’s rotten timing,’ the convict said. He flashed that evil smile of his. ‘He won’t ever make it. We’re not even at half speed yet and he’s falling behind.’
Cole shifted uncomfortably. ‘We can’t just leave him there. He risked his life for us.’
The convict narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t