Perfumed Pirates of Perfidy Read online

  I've finally escaped from the jungle, but I'm not any closer to finding my way home. In fact I'm in more danger than ever! If only I hadn't fallen asleep in that cabin …

  I awoke with a start when the door to the building CRASHED open and a band of robber pirates charged into the room! As they edged towards me, cutlasses at the ready, I could see that they were a gang of the most gruesome, ghastly and grisly bandits you could ever meet … and, worst of all, they were female pirates! Was this going to be the end of my amazing journey?

  The gang of lady pirates gathered around me. I was sitting at their dinner table, still groggy from having fallen into an exhausted sleep after pigging out on their food. Horrible smiles split the pirates’ faces, exposing rows of rotting teeth. I had been caught red-handed, and the pirates were as pleased as punch!

  ‘Well, what do we have here?’ sneered the captain, her gold bracelets jangling as she lifted her cutlass to my throat.

  ‘Uh, eh, oh!’ I grunted in reply. I don't know whether it was from sheer terror at having the point of a huge bloodstained cutlass pressed against my neck, or because I had spent so long among the jungle gorillas, but I was finding it difficult to speak. One wrong move and I would be sliced open like a ripe peach.

  ‘I said, What do we have here?‘ repeated the captain, giving a jab with her cutlass. ‘Is it a little sand worm? A hermit crab? A skinny starfish? Well, speak up – what are you?’

  Of course, they knew perfectly well what I was. They were just teasing me, making me sweat! I told them I was a boy called Charlie Small.

  A boy?’ The captain scoffed. A sneak thief, more like! Well, we don't like boys.’

  ‘We don't like boys,’ repeated the others, grinning. And we don't like sneak thieves.’

  ‘Don't like sneak thieves?’ I cried, thinking of all the jewels and gold I'd seen in the next room. ‘That's rich! There's a room full of stolen stuff behind that door!’

  ‘So, you saw our special things, did you?’ said the captain, with an even harder edge to her voice. ‘Well, well, well. That is a shame for you, because now we can never let you go. What shall we do with him, girls?’

  ‘Slice him!’ they roared. ‘Skewer him! Skin him alive!’

  ‘Dice him, sauté him in rum and cook him over a low heat!’

  ‘He would make a tasty starter—’

  ‘No!’ I yelled. I had to put a stop to this, before I ended up bubbling in a pot. ‘I'm, er … tougher than you think. I would be much too chewy to eat, even stewed. If you let me live, I could be useful.’

  ‘Useful? Useful how?’

  ‘Well, I can cook a bit, and I could clean this place up – I could be your cabin boy!’

  The captain gave me a long look.

  ‘Lock him in the strongroom, girls,’ she said. ‘I've got some thinking to do.’

  I was thrown into the treasure room and the door slammed behind me. I could hear the bolts and padlocks clunking shut, and I knew there would be little chance of escape.

  It was very gloomy inside; there were no windows in the room and the only light came from the small grille set in the door. I had no option but to wait and see what happened.

  This was one of the worst situations I'd ever found myself in. Sure, I'd fought terrifying crocodiles and wrestled great apes, and even survived attacks by ravenous hyenas and massive snakes, but I'd never been locked up while my enemies discussed how to finish me off!

  What were they planning? Was I going to be thrown from the cliffs onto the pointy rocks below? Or barbecued and served up as kebabs. Or— Stop it, I thought. I was beginning to scare myself, and I needed to be thinking of some way to escape.

  I searched the room to see if there was anything that might be useful, and among a stack of dusty maps, hidden behind a mound of glittering golden goblets, I found a chart that showed the exact position of the pirates’ island (it's on the next page). They call it Perfidy, and it's a tiny dot in the middle of a huge sea called the Pangaean Ocean.

  Although I must have read a hundred explorer books at home, I didn't recognize any of the names on the map. But I knew it might come in useful one day, so I rolled it up and hid it inside the water bottle at the bottom of my rucksack.

  As I did so, my left hand brushed against my mobile phone. My mobile! I hadn't tried to use it for ages because whenever I'd called home, Mum never listened to anything I told her. And she always replied with precisely the same words – as if it was still the same day I'd started out on my adventures and she was expecting me home for tea!

  Maybe it would work properly now that I was out of the jungle, I thought hopefully.

  I attached my wind-up charger, spun the handle and dialled the number.

  ‘Mum!’ I cried when she answered the phone.

  ‘Oh, hello, darling, is everything all right?’

  ‘Well, not really! I've been captured by pirates and locked in a treasure room—’

  ‘Sounds wonderful, dear,’ Mum said. ‘Oh, wait a minute, Charlie. Here's your dad just come in. Now remember, don't be late for tea … ‘

  ‘Mum, listen,’ I whispered hoarsely. She was saying exactly the same things as before. Could she hear me? I had to make her understand. ‘I'm a prisoner!’ I cried. ‘I'm on the island of Perfidy and—’

  But just then the door flew open and the captain strode into the room.

  ‘Who are you talking to, boy?’ she demanded, scanning the treasure room with her dark, angry eyes.

  ‘N-no one,’ I stammered, hiding the phone behind my back. But too late – the captain had already seen it.

  ‘What have you got there? Have you been helping yourself to my precious jewels?’ she growled. ‘Show me at once!’

  I hesitated, and she drew her cutlass and brought it crashing down on one of the packing cases with such force that it split open; a sultan's ransom worth of treasure spilled out onto the floor. ‘Come on!’

  Shaking, I held out the phone. Its screen glowed bright in the gloom.

  ‘What rare jewel is this, boy?’ she gasped.

  ‘It's a phone,’ I said. ‘You use it to talk to people.’

  The pirate captain looked confused and I realized I'd better show her before she started swinging her cutlass again!

  I quickly dialled the speaking clock and handed her my mobile.

  ‘At the third stroke, the time will be … ‘ The captain leaped back, dropping the phone and drawing her sword.

  ‘Who's in there?’ she thundered, her cutlass hovering threateningly above the display screen. ‘Come out and fight like a woman!’

  I picked up the phone, trying to reassure the pirate captain that there was nothing to be frightened of. It was just a machine and you could talk to people on the other side of the world with it, I explained.

  ‘Oh, so it's a talking machine, is it?’ she said in a strangely calm voice.

  I nodded, and sighed with relief that I'd made her understand.

  ‘Do you think I'm daft, boy?’ she roared suddenly. ‘There's no such thing! This here is a magic box, a wizard's toy, and it must be worth a thousand fortunes. What's more,’ she added, putting my phone and charger in her pocket, ‘it's my magic box now!’

  ‘No!’ I cried. ‘I need it.’ The mobile was my only link to home, and somehow I felt sure that if I lost it, I'd never be able to get back.

  ‘You won't need it where you're going, boy.’ The captain grinned.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It's the drop for you,’ she growled, stepping so close that her rum-soaked breath made my eyes smart.

  ‘The drop!’ I cried. ‘But what about me becoming your cabin boy?’

  ‘We don't want a cabin boy, boy. We don't want males of
any description on our ship, whether they're boys, men, dogs or rats. It's a female ship and that's how it'll stay. You'll be hanged immediately from the nearest yardarm.’ What's a yardarm? I thought. Whatever it was, hanging from it didn't sound too good.

  ‘Follow me,’ she ordered and led me out into the courtyard.

  I gulped. How on earth was I going to get out of this?

  When my eyes had adjusted to the bright sunlight of the pirates’ compound, I saw that the rest of the pirates had been busy. In the centre of the yard they had erected a ship's mast. A long rope with a noose at the end dangled from the crossbar. So that was what a yardarm was: a pirates’ gallows!

  I stopped in my tracks, but the captain pushed me towards the mast as one of her crew held the noose open, inviting me to put my head in.

  ‘Just a minute,’ I cried in a blind panic, and turned to the captain. My heart was pounding and my knees were knocking but I had to act now, before it was too late.

  ‘What have we got here?’ She smirked. ‘A squeaker?’

  ‘We like ‘em when they squeak,’ chorused the others. ‘Oh mercy, oh save me!’

  But I wasn't going to beg for my life, I was going to win it. I was hoping that these sailors enjoyed a gamble as much as my Uncle Will, who was in the merchant navy.

  ‘I bet I can climb to the top of the rigging before the best of your crew,’ I said, praying that they would take up my challenge.

  The captain rubbed her hands together. ‘A wager, is it?’ she said. ‘What's the bet?’

  I said that if I won, the captain had to return my phone and set me free right away.

  ‘And if you lose?’ she asked.

  ‘If I lose,’ I replied with a shiver, ‘I'll put my head in the noose.’

  ‘Agreed?’ yelled the captain to the rest of the crew, and they roared their approval.

  I stood at the base of the rigging, which stretched up to the top of the mast, waiting for the pirates to choose their best climber. After years as king of the jungle, I was pretty sure that I could beat any of the pirates, no matter how long they had been climbing the rigging. Not many animals in the jungle were as quick as me at swinging through the trees; only a few of the smaller monkeys were faster.

  ‘I'm waiting,’ I said nonchalantly to the pirates as they huddled in a circle having a discussion.

  ‘Get Bobo,’ said the captain to one of her crew, who waddled off with a sailor's gait to a little shed in the corner of the yard and opened the door. A large brown streak bolted out of the shed, raced across the yard and, shrieking loudly, leaped into the captain's arms like an oversized baby.

  My heart sank into my shoes. Bobo was a mandrill, just like those in the jungle, and I knew from experience how fast they could climb. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and I felt a wave of nausea as I imagined the noose tightening around my neck. I had made a serious mistake.

  ‘That's not fair!’ I exclaimed. ‘I said I would race the best of your crew. Not a monkey!’

  ‘But Bobo is a member of the crew,’ said the captain, stroking the grinning ape under the chin. ‘A valued and very ruthless member.’

  ‘Well, I still don't think it's fair,’ I protested.

  ‘You made the rules, boy, and now you must race – or hang!’

  The mandrill grinned as I dumped my coat on the ground and rolled up my sleeves, her eyes fixing me with a malevolent stare.

  ‘ Aah aah aah,’ she screamed, and raced up and down the first few metres of the rigging for practice. At a growl from the captain, we stood on either side of the mast, gripping the first rung of the rigging and waiting for the start. My heart was pounding. This really was a race for life. The captain drew her pistol, raised it in the air and fired. BANG!

  We leaped onto the rigging, the monkey taking an early lead; but I soon caught up as my hands and feet effortlessly found purchase in the rope netting. Bobo stared across at me in surprise. She had not expected me to be able to keep up, and she redoubled her efforts, taking the lead once more. As we raced to the top of the mast, I knew that I was going to lose. Bobo was just too fast. I had to do something quickly.

  ‘Watch out, Bobo,’ I yelled in perfect gorilla. ‘Your tail is on fire!’

  I knew she would be able to understand and she did. She was so surprised to hear me speak in the gorillas’ tongue that she stopped and inspected her rear, before remembering that she didn't have a tail. By the time she had recovered, I had overtaken her. We both dashed for the top, Bobo screaming in indignation. But the distraction had worked and I scrambled onto the top of the mast and sat there, arms raised in victory, with Bobo less than a metre behind and shrieking like a banshee.

  Before we climbed down, I offered Bobo my hand in a sporting gesture, but she was having none of it. She bared her teeth and screamed at me, ‘Cheat, fraudster, conman! Where did you learn to speak gorilla?’

  ‘Calm down, monkey,’ I replied, stunned by her maliciousness. ‘I used to live in the jungle. I was a gorilla king.’

  But Bobo was obviously unimpressed with this bit of news. ‘Well, you're king of nothing here, boy,’ she said, and spat at me before scuttling down the rigging and diving once more into the arms of her beloved captain.

  I followed her down, feeling very relieved. Although I'd made an enemy of one of the nastiest of animals, I had won my bet. But would the pirates keep their side of the bargain?

  They were very sulky They had been looking forward to a nice hanging, but agreed that I wouldn't swing. Not that day, anyway

  ‘Right, then,’ I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. ‘If you'll just give me back my phone, I'll be on my way.’

  ‘Not so fast!’ roared the captain, and the pirates closed in around me. ‘How do we know you haven't filched any of our precious jewels?’ And before I could squirm away she ripped the rucksack from my back and upended my explorer's kit into the dirt. There was:

  My multi-tooled penknife

  A ball of string

  The water bottle (with the map hidden inside!)

  A telescope

  A scarf

  An old railway ticket

  This journal

  My pyjamas

  A pack of wild animal collector's cards

  A glue pen (to stick any interesting finds in my book)

  A big bag of Paterchak's mint humbugs (half empty)

  A slab of Kendal mint cake

  A glass eye from the steam-powered rhinoceros

  A huge leaf from the heart of the jungle

  The hunting knife, the compass and the torch I'd found on the sun-bleached skeleton of a lost explorer

  The tooth of a monstrous river crocodile

  ‘What a load of old rubbish,’ sniggered one of the pirates. But it didn't stop her from pocketing the hunting knife and torch.

  I crossed my fingers, hoping no one would touch the water bottle.

  The captain pushed my other things around with her foot, looking disappointed. ‘No sparklers, boy?’ she asked me. ‘No more magic boxes?’

  I shook my head, hoping she wouldn't crush any of the important finds I'd saved from my adventures so far.

  ‘Then how do you plan to pay us to take you back to the mainland?’

  I blinked stupidly. I hadn't thought of that. ‘Isn't there a ferry?’ I asked, playing for time as I hurriedly gathered my things back into my bag.

  ‘You're hundreds of miles from anywhere, boy. And no one knows about this island but us!’ The captain leered at me. ‘We're your only ticket away from here. And if you can't pay … you'll have to be put to work! Take him aboard the Betty Mae, girls, and prepare to sail!’

  And that's where I am now. I may not be dangling from the yardarm, but I'm more of a prisoner than ever!

  I'm locked in a stunningly smelly storeroom, and I've been chained to a heavy beam. The floorboards on which I'm sitting are slippery with damp; all I can see of the outside world is a sliver of rocky headland between the rotting planks of the hull, and
there's only just enough light to write by.

  I have no idea what will happen to me. Will I be expected to plunder and pillage as a member of the pirates’ bloodthirsty gang? I don't even know where we're sailing to. Will there be any chance of escape when we get there? And how will I get my phone and charger back from the captain?

  There are so many questions that I don't know the answer to. I can hear the pirates cursing and shouting above me, and the ship creaking and groaning. I know that I'll just have to wait and see what happens.

  I will continue my journal as soon as I can.

  I'll never complain about having to tidy my room at home again. I've been working nonstop and I am absolutely exhausted; I'm almost too tired to feel scared, but not quite! From the moment we reached the open sea I was put to work. And you won't believe the chores I have to do.

  This morning a wrinkly old pirate collected me and took me up on deck, where the captain was barking out orders and cuffing any of the crew who didn't move fast enough.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ the captain growled. ‘Well, you wanted to be our cabin boy, so you can start earning your keep. Here's a list of your chores.’

  She handed me a grubby cylinder of paper, which unrolled as I took it from her. I gasped; the list was as long as my arm! I squinted at the terrible writing and started to read:

  5.30 a.m. Get brekfust for hole crew (200)

  7.00 a.m. Serv brekfust

  8.00 a.m. Wash up

  9.00 a.m. Scrub mayn dek

  10.00 a.m. Not good enuf. Scrub it agen

  11.00 a.m. Tea and cakes – for crew, not yew

  12.00 noon Make captins hamuck and tidee her room

  1.00 p.m. Get lunch for hole crew