Chapter Eight
Step two turned out to work rather well. Matthias pelted the pirates with rocks for about half-a-minute, and then we both bolted for the beach. When we got there, we found Cap ready to set sail from one of the crude little docks that had been built in the bay. Even as two sailors hauled us aboard, the others cast off, and between the strong wind, and the men manning the oars -now with freedom in their hearts, and all of its strength in their strokes- we were out to open sea within half an hour.
"Thanks for waiting Cap."
Cap hit me roundly on the side of the head.
"Thank me for that again and you'll get worse," he said with a gleam in his eye.
By dawn several pirates vessels were close behind us. Fortunately, Cap had a good eye: he had picked the fastest of the pirate galleys for our getaway. By noon, all but one of the pirates were so far behind that we couldn't see them at all.
The one fellow who was keeping up with us was a light ship, built with a shallow draft for raiding. It had only one mast and one deck, with two rows of oars for the rowers. The crew was small; perhaps sevtny-five men at most.
"They'll be alongside us in a minute," Matthias exclaimed.
"Cap, break out the arms. I want every member of the crew armed within a quarter-hour."
The old sailor saluted solidly and hurried below deck.
"Make ready!"
The lads not manning the oars hurried to the starboard side of the ship, stringing their bows as they went. The pirates came alongside as Cap and the others returned topside.
"Just in time my friend. Here they come!"
The lads fired in a high arc, raining arrows down on the pirates so quickly that the sky overhead was black with them. The contest was over almost before it began. The few pirates who made it aboard our galley were either dead or captured within moments of coming on board. Those few who remained alive on their ship cut the grapple lines that held the ships together, and turned back for Pirate Island.
Cap and I were more than happy to let them go. If the battle had lasted an hour or so longer, the other pirates might well have had time to catch us.
"How long before we reach Galma, Cap?"
"Not more than three days Sir Martin, provided the wind holds."
"Matthias?"
"Aye?"
"See if you can find some yellow cloth to fly from the mast instead of that rag. The las thing we need is a case of mistaken identity."
Matthias grinned, nodded, and hurried awway as I turned and strode to the bow.
"Don't leave yet Edmund. I've got some news that'll change the game!"