Prologue
The beautiful blue water sparkled in the sunshine as it lapped up the flat sandy beach. The tide here was gentle, breaking into soft white foam that then trickled backwards into the ocean. Further up the beach were a line of huge palm trees that marked edge of the lush jungle that covered most of the island.
The spiky green foliage at the base of the palms shook as two men emerged carrying a heavy chest between them. One man was tall with a naturally pale complexion that had gone red with the sun and the salty sea air. The other was squatter and thick-set with a swarthy face that was covered in dark stubble. Both wore rough breeches, dirty shirts and had sandals on their feet. A cutlass and several knives dangled from wide leather belts.
The taller man dropped his side of the chest and wiped the sweat of the side of his face with his arm. "Take it easy Alvarez," he panted.
The other man cursed in Spanish at his weaker shipmate. He looked back at the jungle warily. "Get a move on Ned; I don't like it here!"
"We're the last," Ned replied and pointed out to the ocean where a tall galleon floated. "The Cap'n won't know if we take it easy. Make us all rich this will."
Alvarez thumped Ned on the chest and spat on the sandy beach. "Fool! He'll flay us alive more like." He reached down and picked up the chest by himself. "Now move it!"
"All right," grumbled Ned, "the boat's only over here any…….."
He didn't finish his sentence as he looked down the beach. Their rowboat lay smashed and burnt on the shore. The two pirates exchanged a worried look, dropped the chest and ran down the beach to the wreckage of the boat.
"Santa Maria!" breathed Alvarez, crossing himself. "What has happened?"
They peered into they boat where the timbers still smoked, a curious circular pattern etched onto them.
"What could have done this?" whispered Ned, his eyes wide with fear.
The suddenly behind them, they both heard the sound of shuffling footsteps across the wet sand. The pirates turned and screamed in fear at what they saw.
There was a flash and Alvarez fell to the ground with a cry.
Ned panicked and turned; running and splashing into the ocean in an attempt to escape.
There was another flash and Ned pitched forwards into the sea.
His lifeless body floated up and down as screams of terror from the galleon drifted through the air and mixing with the sound of hungry seagulls that sensed that their next meal was ready.
1.
The small, dark alley was briefly illuminated by a flashing lamp that had appeared from nowhere.
A large and greasy rat scurried away from where it had been gnawing away at the rough rope around a wooden barrel; terrified by the unearthly wheezing and groaning sound of the TARDIS engines as it materialised.
The TARDIS door opened and the Doctor stepped out dressed in his usual brown suit, long brown coat and scruffy trainers. He was grinning widely as he looked around the dark alley and up at the star-filled night sky lit by a yellow and full moon. "Katherine, if we are where I think, you're going to be in for a treat!"
His companion, Katherine de Gallois, followed him out, her brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. She didn't always trust the Doctor's idea of a 'treat'." She wrinkled her nose at the odours that drifted on the night air – fish, ale, smoke, salt and sweat. "Wherever we are, it smells!" Katherine pulled at her green dress around her waist. It was a gown of the type she had worn every day in France before she had met the Doctor, although a little plainer. "Why did you want me to wear a dress like this again?" she complained, annoyed at how restricted she felt now that she was used to more modern and contemporary clothes.
The Doctor smiled, closing the TARDIS door carefully behind her, and wagging his finger playfully. "Ah ah – that would be telling. But you look lovely – as usual."
Katherine smiled and gave a slight curtsey. "Thank you, monsieur."
The Doctor took her arm and they walked out of the alley and onto a wider, main street.
The buildings on the street were a mixture of sandy stone and wood and between them wee large palm trees. Sounds of raucous laughter and singing came from several of the buildings that were lit by heavy oil lanterns. The air was humid and Katherine had to bat away several mosquitoes and moths that flitted about. Men and women of all descriptions walked, staggered and ran past them. Most wore rough, dirty shirts tunics and cut-off trousers with boots or sandals.
Katherine glanced around her as the Doctor guided them along. "Okay, I can see that we're on Earth again. In fact the way people are dressed it reminds me of my time?"
"Good observation Miss de Gallois," chuckled the Doctor, "very close to your time, about a hundred or so years earlier I think."
They reached the end of the street where it opened out to a magnificent view of a moonlit harbour that contained dozens of ships of all descriptions – from rowboats to huge galleons.
The Doctor spread his arms wide. "Katherine – this is Port Royal!"
2.
Katherine gasped at the haunting beauty of the dark harbour and then put her hands on her hips. "Port Royal? In Jamaica?" She had read history and had heard of the infamous pirate port before.
The Doctor nodded, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "The very same and if you go by reputation then the 'richest and wickedest city in the world'!"
"Really?"
The Doctor pursed his lips, almost automatically going into a history lecture. "Well, it was notorious for its gaudy displays of wealth and loose morals, and was a popular place for pirates and privateers to bring and spend their treasure."
Katherine rolled her eyes as he continued.
"It was originally claimed by the Spanish, but England acquired it in 1655. Look, we must have arrived after that." He gestured towards two soldiers dressed in the traditional red and white livery as they stood talking outside a building. "So we must be after then." He pointed up to a large fort at the back of the harbour. "That must be the English fort." Katherine sighed and settled herself down on a barrel as the Doctor strode up and down the wooden pier where they stood. "Port Royal was located along the shipping lanes between Spain and Panama, and provided a safe harbour for pirates and buccaneers who found Port Royal appealing for several reasons. Its proximity to trade routes allowed them easy access to prey, the harbour was also large enough to accommodate their ships and provided a place to carouse and repair these vessels. It was also ideally situated for launching raids on Spanish settlements." "All I know," interrupted Katherine, "is that Port Royal gained a reputation where most residents were pirates, cutthroats or prostitutes.""Well, don't believe everything you read," admonished the Doctor, continuing hurriedly after Katherine shot him a look. "but when you have a city of around six thousand and one tavern or drinking house for every ten residents, then it can be quite a party!"
Katherine raised a delicate eyebrow and smiled. "Sounds like Paris."
The Doctor blew out a breath and wrinkled his nose. "A bit worse," he warned.
Katherine got to her feet and put her hands on her hips. "Then perhaps it would be rude not to join in?"
The Doctor grinned and rubbed his hands together. "That's the spirit!" He glanced around the buildings that surrounded the harbour. There were plenty that were lit and he could see men and women singing and laughing from within.
Above the doorway to one nearby was a sign that swung gently in the breeze from the sea. On the sign was a large green parrot with an eyepatch covering one eye.
The Doctor grinned. "There we are – 'The Green Parrot' – sounds ideal!"
3.
Roberto del Guisa thought that he was going to drown.
His arms were firmly pinioned behind him by the two pirates and he couldn't move – just open his mouth and let the liquid pour in. But as the fourth huge tankard emptied, a great roar of laughter and appreciation erupted from the table around him.
The pirates released his arms, slapping him on the back as he staggered to his feet and raised the tankard into the air. Another roar of cheers greeted him and his eyes swam back into focus. He had never seen 'The Parrot' so full before. There must have been close to a hundred people crushed into the smoke and sweat filled tavern. Townsmen mixed with pirates, thieves, ruffians, sailors and whores. The 'Green Parrot' with its low ceilings and shadowy corners and nooks, was one of the most notorious drinking houses in Port Royal. If you wanted something, you could probably get it here – or hire someone to get it for you.
Roberto wiped the remains of the foaming ale from his dark beard and moustache. "Sally, my love," he shouted across the tavern to the bar, "we'll have some more of those when you can send one of your charming girls over here!"
A large woman with a patch over one eye stood behind the bar. She removed a small clay pipe from her mouth and grinned to reveal blackened, cracked teeth. 'One-eyed Sal' was the owner of the 'Parrot'. It was unusual for a woman to run a place like this, but there weren't many villains who would cross her. A few had tried and they had ended up dead. Sal mixed with some of the most dangerous pirates in Port Royal, and many owed her for her help she had given, or contacts she had made. Then of course, were the girls that stayed here under Sal's watchful good eye. Roberto guessed that if there were a show of hands, only a few men would not have spent the night in a small room upstairs with one of them.
A young blonde girl carrying a tray of tankards made her way across the room to Roberto's table.
Roberto grinned as she put down the tray on the table, her low cut blouse revealing her ample bosom. "My thanks milady," he said as he tossed a coin towards her.
The girl smiled seductively, the coin vanishing into her hand as quickly as the strike of a serpent before she started back to the bar.
Trent, the pirate next to Roberto, reached out eagerly for a fresh tankard. "Goin' to give her some time Cap'n?" he cackled.
Roberto slapped Trent on the shoulder. "When all she'll give me in return is the pox?" he laughed. Then his eyes drifted to the entrance where two figures had just entered. "But now then, there's what I call a lady!"
4.
The Doctor and Katherine stood at the entrance to 'The Green Parrot' and surveyed the smoky interior of the tavern.
"A wretched hive of scum and villainy," murmured the Doctor with a smile.
Katherine rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry?"
The Doctor just winked and led her into tavern. "We'd better be careful," he replied as they approached the long wooden bar and squeezed in between two scruffy sailors. He beckoned over one of the serving wenches. "Two glasses of wine please."
A sudden thought struck Katherine. "What are we going to do for money?" she asked out of the corner of her mouth and then stopped amazed as a gold doubloon appeared in the Doctor's fingers as if by magic.
"Someone must've dropped it," he smiled innocently and paid for the drinks as the wench came back with two grimy cups.
Katherine sniffed at the dark liquid, wrinkled her nose and then took a tentative sip. She almost gagged at the rancid taste in her mouth. "Urgh – it's sour!" she cried, trying to resist the temptation to spit it out.
The Doctor sipped form his cup and made a face. "Not the best vintage I agree – unless paint strippers have a vintage I suppose." He eyed the clientele of the tavern and couldn't remember when he had last seen such a rough and dangerous bunch. "What do you think then?" he asked Katherine with an infectious grin.
Katherine raised an eyebrow but returned the grin. "I remember going to Paris with Remy once and we ended up in La Pigalle – it was a bit like this," she giggled. "He was very embarrassed!"
The Doctor smiled, noticing that the mention of her dead husband was now having less of an effect on Katherine's mood. Her eyes once would have become sad; now they sparkled with life.
A small, dirty looking sailor with tattoos on each arm and suddenly grabbed Katherine's arm. She pulled it away with a cry. "How much for some time with you then me lovely?" he grinned, showing a no front teeth in his mouth.
Before the Doctor could intercede, Katherine had pulled herself up to her full height, which although not much greater than five foot, was still an inch or two taller than the diminutive pirate. She cuffed him across the face. "You couldn't afford me!" she spat haughtily.
Roberto del Guisa took another gulp of ale as he watched Katherine from across the tavern. "And fire in her belly too……" he whispered.
5.
The full moon shone through the open window of the governor's office. Even at night it was still stiflingly hot in Port Royal and midges swarmed in the air around the lanterns that lit the room.
Governor William Johnson sat behind his desk as he delicately tipped some snuff onto the back of his hand and then inhaled it deeply. Johnson was a portly man in his early fifties with heavy jowls. He also tended to sweat profusely in the oppressive heat that meant that dirty white wig that was perched precariously on his head occasionally slipped either forwards or sideways and Johnson was ever correcting it imperiously.
Johnson studied the papers that were strewn over his desk with his small piggy eyes, groaning as he noticed some of the figures.
There was a knock on the office door and Johnson looked up. "Come in!" he bellowed.
The door opened and a soldier dressed in the traditional English red and white livery stepped inside. "You wanted to see me Governor sir?"
Johnson scowled at the soldier, throwing the papers he had been studying down onto his desk. "Have you seen these figures Captain?"
The captain shook his head. "No sir."
"In the five years I have been here, never has piracy affected us so badly. It seems we take a chance every time we load a barrel onto a ship these days!"
The captain shrugged helplessly. "Yes sir."
Johnson tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk. "Yes sir, you say." He raised his voice. "Well I say, no sir!" He leant back in the chair. "It's high time we took measures to stop further losses." A cunning smile pulled at his oval mouth. "I hear that buccaneer del Guisa has landed in port?"
"I believe his ship 'The Stallion' is here sir."
Johnson's eyes twinkled. "Then pull him in Captain. I don't care how or why; just get him in the cells."
The captain took a breath. "It won't be easy sir."
"I don't care how easy it is captain!" shouted Johnson angrily. "Just get del Guisa here by dawn or I'll see you take his place swinging from a gibbet!"
"Yes sir!" the captain nodded and scurried from the room closing the door behind him.
Johnson reached across his desk to a plate of half eaten chicken, waving his hand to clear the flies from where they had gathered on it. "Then we shall see," he said taking a bite, "what price Captain del Guisa puts on his life……….."
6.
In 'The Green Parrot', the Doctor and Katherine had found a table in a small, dark alcove.
"Not exactly 'The Ritz' I admit," smiled the Doctor, "but it does have……..charm."
"Is that what you call it?" laughed Katherine good-naturedly.
The Doctor closed one of his eyes with a squint. "Indeed I do matey," he said in a terrible mock pirate accent, "indeed I do!"
Katherine pushed an untouched bowl of stew away from her and made a face. "You certainly do get a flavour of the place anyway."
The Doctor grinned and was about to launch into another pirate impression when something grabbed his foot under the small circular wooden table. Startled, he pulled his foot away and looked down to see a man lying on the tavern floor. It had been so dark that neither he nor Katherine had noticed him, and the man was now only just stirring from what was clearly a drunken stupor.
Katherine just stared with a mixture of revulsion and amusement as the Doctor reached down and hauled the man up to sit next to them. He was in his late fifties, very thin and with a long, haggard face. His hair was long and matted with dirt and sweat. Katherine also noticed that a shoulder of his filthy white shirt was caked in dried blood.
The man opened his bloodshot eyes and leered drunkenly at Katherine who had to stop herself gagging at the overpowering stench of stale beer. "Now there's a pretty face for old Tom," he slurred. "Spare a penny to buy us a drink missy?"
"I think old Tom has had quite enough drink," replied Katherine tartly.
Tom slouched over the table as he regarded the two time travellers. "It's all I got left."
"Oh I don't know," said the Doctor. "Sailor are you?" Tom nodded, his eyes half closing in stupor. "Well, there must be plenty of work around here?"
Tom shook his head. "Not fer one o' Pryce's crew."
"There you go – you're part of a crew. When does your ship nest sail?"
"My ship's sunk mister – good and proper. Up by 'Michael's Point'. All me mates gone to Davy Jones an' no mistake."
"Why, what happened?" asked Katherine.
Tom's red-rimmed eyes stared at them glassily as he remembered the massacre. He could still see them in his dreams and nightmares; still hear the strange sound of their guns; the screams of his shipmates. "We was attacked by monsters – devils from the sea!"