Perfumed Pirates of Perfidy Page 3

  ‘Good,’ said Cut-throat. ‘I'll get Mop-head Kate to bring you some leftovers every night. Now off to bed with you!’

  Leftovers! Was that all? Well, it was better than nothing, I suppose, and after weeks of bread and seagull spread, anything will seem like a treat. So I'm back in my stinky hold, chained up and waiting to see if Mop-head will turn up with my grub. I'm not expecting a feast, but my tummy has been rumbling ever since I came on board ship, and if I'm not thinking about ways to escape or stealing back my phone, I'm usually picturing tables laden with fantastic fodder. I even dream about food at night!

  My tummy gurgled expectantly when I heard the key turn in the lock, and Kate came in with my reward.

  I stared at the bowl of gristle and wobbly, grey tubey bits in disbelief. I was expecting at least a slice of squid pie or a bowl of jellyfish jelly

  ‘Is that it?’ I asked. ‘Is that my treat?’

  ‘The captain said to bring something from the scraps cupboard,’ said Kate. ‘Don't you want it then?’ And she bent down to take it back.

  ‘No, it's OK!’ I said, grabbing hold of the bowl. I was so hungry I could have eaten the spoon, and I hunched over the bowl and sucked up a long, slippery tube into my mouth. It was disgusting!

  ‘Enjoy,’ said Kate, and she left me gnawing on a lump of gristle and a crust of furry bread.

  The excitement and danger never end. Today we NEARLY ALL PERISHED when the Betty Mae came under a dawn attack, and it wasn't any sort of ship that nearly finished us off.

  I had just been released from my lockup and had made my bleary-eyed way to the galley to prepare breakfast when, all of a sudden, the Betty Mae tilted at an alarming angle. Boxes and packages flew off the shelves and coals from the fire spilled dangerously across the floor. I was sent careering across the galley, but as I picked myself up, the ship tilted the other way with a cacophony of groans and squeals. Water poured across the galley floor, extinguishing the spilled coals. Then the ship lifted her nose out of the water, her stern forced down into the sea. What was going on?

  I rushed outside and was met by a terrifying sight. There, lying half across the poop deck, was an enormous, disgusting slug. A giant slug. A slug as big as a house. And it was crawling out of the sea and onto our boat! As it slowly heaved itself along the deck, it dripped great gloops of gunge from its slimy body.

  Captain Cut-throat was yelling orders to her panicking crew. ‘Forward, you cowardy custards!’ she yelled. ‘Drive it back into the sea.’ But the hapless pirates were getting caught in the slug's gunk, and stuck there as surely as if they had stepped in a puddle of glue. They yelled in terror as the slug edged forward; soon they were crushed under its huge body The monster dipped its head, opened its great toothless, dripping jaws and … Well, I don't need to say what happened next.

  ‘We're done for!’ shouted Rawcliffe Annie above the cries of the other pirates super-glued to the deck.

  Again the Betty Mae creaked and groaned, leaning dangerously as the slug continued its slow journey, and we all tumbled to the floor. Then a great dollop of slime splattered onto the deck, missing us by inches.

  Some of the pirates tried to launch a lifeboat, but in their haste they tangled the ropes and it went crashing into the waves below, breaking its back as it hit the water. The mizzenmast followed, collapsing into the sea: the slug had snapped it as easily as a piece of matchwood, dripping a great pool of slime from the poop deck onto the main deck below. I had to do something, and quickly. But what? Think, Charlie, think! I said to myself. And then I remembered my wild animal collector's cards. I grabbed them from my rucksack and flicked through. It was a long shot, but who knows … ? And yes, there it was: a card for the Giant Sea Slug! This is what it said:

  Curry powder? I groaned. Who's going to have curry powder handy when a sea slug attacks? And then I remembered – /did! Or chilli powder, which was the same sort of thing. At least I hoped it was.

  I dashed back to the galley and searched through the casks of spices and condiments until I found the one I was looking for: Overham's Super-hot Chilli Powder. It was in a special lead-lined cask, and the label warned that any more than a teaspoonful could have extremely serious consequences for which the manufacturer would not take the blame. I just hoped it would have serious consequences for our slug!

  Emptying my explorer's kit onto the floor, I packed the chilli barrel into my rucksack and ran back outside. Captain Cut-throat was still shouting orders and bravely trying to hack at the giant slug with her cutlass, but she couldn't get close enough because of the sticky slime that oozed towards her.

  I knew I'd never be able to throw the powder far enough to reach the slug, so I dashed across to the mainmast, thinking I could climb up onto the rigging and then swing out above the sticky creature. But the slug turned towards the mast at exactly the same time and I pulled up short – there was no way I was going to risk climbing straight past its jaws!

  I looked around desperately for another route up into the rigging. And that's when I spotted the pirates’ plank wobbling over the water. It gave me an idea. A scary one, but it was just about the only chance of saving the ship (and me!) from the deadly slug attack. So, picking up a coil of rope, I dashed to the foremast and started to scramble up the rigging.

  Up I went until I reached the cross-spar and then shuffled my way along to the end. Then, tying one end of my rope to the cross-spar, I took my bearings. Way below on the deck, halfway between me and the mainmast, I could see the pirates’ plank sticking out over the water. It looked tiny from high up on the foremast, but I was going to try and use it as a springboard to launch me up into the rigging of the mainmast, above the slavering slug. It would take pinpoint accuracy. But I had nothing to lose.

  Here goes, I thought, and slid off the cross-spar and down the rope, so that I was dangling high over the deck below. Then, by working my legs backward and forward, I started to swing. Forward and back, further and further, until I was sailing right out over the pirates’ plank, twenty metres below.

  ‘Now!’ I cried and let go of the rope. ‘Geronimo!’

  I dropped like a stone. ‘Please let this work,’

  I whispered, with my eyes closed, feet together and knees bent.

  I landed right on the end of the plank and – BOING! – ‘Yahoo!’ The plank catapulted me high into the air, over the waving horns of the slug and into the rigging of the mainmast. I had made it! Gasping for breath, I shrugged off my rucksack and loosened the lid on the chilli cask.

  The slug had seen me, and with a horrible gurgling sound it turned, stretching up towards me in the rigging. My feet were just above its slobbering jaws and the disgusting thing was stretching higher and higher. I had no time to lose. I opened the cask and tipped out the super-hot chilli powder.

  For a moment I thought I'd missed, but then a great orange cloud filled the air and the chilli whumped onto the slug's tail like a flour bomb.

  There was a moment's silence and then: ‘RQARRR‘ The fiery powder started to burn the slug's behind!

  I shouldn't think many people have heard a slug roar, but it is a dreadful sound. The creature twisted and turned in a sticky pool of its own slime. It whipped its tail about, trying to cool it down. But there was no way that a little flapping was going to cool down a whole cask of Overham's. So, in desperation, the slug rolled off the side of the ship and writhed frantically around in the cold sea.

  As the Betty Mae rocked and rolled and finally righted herself, the giant slug swam away, honking in embarrassment.

  I had done it! I had saved the ship, and everyone's life! Now, perhaps, I would be given my freedom and my phone as a reward …

  ‘Charlie!’ shouted Captain Cut-throat from below.

  ‘Yes, Captain?’ I answered expectantly.

  ‘Get down here and clean up this mess!’

  Today I woke up to brilliant sunshine, shimmering on the water like melted gold. The air was clean and clear, and if I hadn't been a captive of a gang o
f ruthless buccaneers, it would have been a perfect day. The crew sang as they worked and I even found myself humming along with them as I swabbed the decks.

  Yo-ho-hoing with the rest of the crew, I splashed a bucket of water across the boards to rinse them. Suddenly Captain Cut-throat marched across the deck, splattering my nice clean floor with her dirty footprints. The ever-faithful Bobo was at her heels. Climbing the steps to the quarterdeck, she rapped her cutlass on the rails.

  ‘Listen up, me hearties,’ she roared. ‘I've got some bad news and some good news.’ The other pirates gathered round. ‘I've just been down in the hold, and the bad news is that we still haven't got enough treasure.’

  ‘Shame!’ cried the pirates.

  ‘The good news is … we will have to steal some more!’

  ‘Hooray!’

  ‘Set a course for Spangelimar, the jewel of the Indigo Sea.’

  ‘Hooray!’ roared the pirates again as they raced around carrying out their orders.

  My heart leaped. If the pirates were raiding a port, then I might have a chance to escape at last! But how could I persuade the captain to take me along with the raiding party?

  As Cut-throat marched past, I puffed out my chest and cleared my throat.

  She paused and looked me slowly up and down. ‘You'll have to get ready for tomorrow, Charlie,’ she said finally.

  ‘You mean you're taking me with you?’ I gasped, scarcely able to believe my luck.

  ‘Ha!’ she roared as Bobo poked her big blue tongue out at me. ‘You don't think I'd take a squirt like you, do you? You have to earn the right to be a pirate and come on a raid. And that means a lot more than scaring off one chubby old sea slug! No, you'll stay here, under guard; but we'll need a hundred and fifty packed lunches to take with us, so you'd better get started as soon as you've finished the deck.’ And with that the captain stomped away, a sniggering Bobo at her heels.

  A hundred and fifty packed lunches? I groaned loudly. Then I had a thought. If the pirates planned on making a raid tomorrow, we must already be close to land. And tonight they'd be busy getting everything ready …

  Now was the perfect time to try an escape!

  But how … ?

  I carried on with my chores, racking my brain for an escape plan. The first problem was how to get out of my locked room. Could I slip out when Mop-head brought me my disgusting dinner? No, that was no good. She would be sure to raise the alarm. Somehow I would have to get a key. Then I remembered the chains that held me fast every night: if I wanted to get free of those I would need some gunpowder too! And then I would need to retrieve my phone and find a way to get off the ship … There was so much to do and so little time!

  I went to empty the slop bucket over the side, and as I tipped out the dirty water, a cry came up from below.

  ‘Careful, you blithering nuisance!’

  I peered over the side. There, in a small dinghy tied alongside, was Dog-breath Dinah, one of the least popular members of the crew. She was busy scraping barnacles off the side of the ship – a job so horrible that I'm surprised the captain hadn't got me doing it!

  As the Betty Mae sped through the choppy seas towards Spangelimar, Dinah had to brace herself in the little bucking dinghy, scraping at the barnacle-encrusted hull.

  ‘Sorry, Dog-breath,’ I said and hid a big smile, because Dog-breath's dinghy would be perfect for my escape.

  Suddenly a loud humming made me turn back. It sounded as if a huge swarm of bees was approaching but, as I watched, a most unusual flying fish rose over the rails. It hovered in mid-air, a few metres from my face. Large-eyed and brightly coloured, the comical little fish buzzed around on propeller-shaped fins, like a miniature helicopter. I had never seen anything like it before.

  ‘Look,’ I cried as the fish stared at me with a quizzical expression and puffed out its cheeks.

  ‘Duck!’ somebody shouted.

  ‘No, it's a fish— Ooof!‘ I crashed to the deck as Mop-head hit me with a fierce rugby tackle.

  ‘Hey, what was that for?’

  Kate picked herself up and pointed to where a lethal-looking dart was embedded in the mainmast. It was still vibrating.

  ‘You mean the fish shot that dart at me?’

  ‘Aye, and they're deadly poisonous.’ Kate carefully pulled the dart out of the mast. ‘That would have speared you right between the eyes,’ she said, fixing me with a dark stare and handing me the dart.

  (I've wrapped it up in a T-shirt and stowed it at the bottom of my rucksack – it's the perfect proof that I've sailed strange seas. I can't wait to show everyone back home. Whenever that might be!)

  As soon as I'd finished swabbing the deck, I rushed off to the galley and baked twenty loaves for the pirates’ sandwiches. Then I got down to more serious business.

  First I went to the food store to fill an empty pepperpot. Why? Because to get to the food store I had to go through the armoury, and as I trotted innocently past a sack of gunpowder that had been opened ready for tomorrow, I dipped the pepperpot in and filled it to the top. When I returned to the galley and the arms guard asked what I had been doing, I held up the pot.

  ‘Getting pepper for the captain's sandwiches,’ I said, and she let me pass.

  Then it was straight to the key cupboard that was situated just outside the captain's cabin. I opened the cupboard and looked at the rows of rusting keys that dangled from their hooks. I quickly read the tangle of labels as I scanned the keys row by row:

  TREASURE ROOM

  CAPTAIN'S CHEST

  RUM RATION ROOM

  BOBO'S CAGE

  CHARLIE'S LOCKUP

  There it was! I grabbed the key, but as I did so, a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and I gasped.

  ‘Got you! What are you doing, boy?’ growled the captain. I turned round and held up the key, hiding the label in the palm of my hand.

  ‘Getting the key to the rum room,’ I said nervously. ‘To give you some extra rum with your packed lunches.’

  The captain eyed me and then grinned and patted me on the shoulder. ‘Good thinking, Charlie,’ she said. ‘A little Dutch courage on such occasions is never wasted. Carry on.’ And I darted down the corridor and back to the galley.

  Once there, I flicked through my recipes until I found one for Captain Cut-throat's favourite jaw-breaker toffee, then put a pan on to boil. Quickly I poured in the necessary ingredients and turned to my next task. I found a large cake of kitchen soap and split it down the middle with my penknife. Then I placed the key between the two halves and pressed them tightly together. When I took the key out, it left a perfect impression in the soap. I tied the two halves back together and then removed the pan of jaw-breaking toffee that was bubbling on the stove. I carefully poured it into a hole I'd made in the soap, so that the toffee ran down into the mould of the key, and then waited for it to set.

  A little while later, when I pulled the soap apart, there, in the middle, was a perfect copy of the key to my lockup made of toffee! Just like this:

  Brilliant!

  All I had to do then was put the real key back on its hook before it was missed, hide the toffee key in a spare sandwich and leave that in the scraps cupboard for Kate to find.

  Now it's nearly midnight and Kate should be here soon. I'd better finish this entry, pack my rucksack and wait …

  The minutes ticked slowly by as the noise of the pirates faded and then stopped. They took to their bunks early, following orders to get a good night's sleep before the raid. The Betty Mae sliced through the waves and I could hear an irregular knocking as the dinghy nudged against her sides. Good – it was still there.

  The footsteps of the night watchwoman sounded above my head, and the ship groaned and creaked, but all else was quiet.

  Come on, Kate, I said to myself, but nothing happened for a long time. Then a shuffle, the click of the lock and the dull glow of a shaded candle as my door swung open.

  ‘Kate?’ I said.

  ‘I've got your scraps, boy,
’ she replied.

  She scampered across the floor and put a plate down beside me. Thank goodness! As well as a piece of half-chewed pork pie, there was the sandwich that I had prepared earlier. I thanked Kate, but as usual the strange girl left without a smile or another word.

  Quickly I felt in my pocket for the pepperpot and folded the bottom of my left trouser leg back, exposing the heavy manacle that chained my ankle to the old oak beam. I wished I could pick locks. It would save a whole heap of trouble. I vowed that this was a skill I would practise and practise if I ever got the chance.

  Carefully I sprinkled the gunpowder into the hole of the lock. Then I cut a length of string from the ball in my explorer's kit, rubbed some gunpowder into it, and poked this into the lock to act as a fuse. Finally I reached right down to the bottom of my rucksack.

  There I felt a walnut-sized piece of hardened chewing gum. That was where I stuck it if I wanted to save my gum for later. This was much, much later, but I popped it straight into my mouth – and, yes, it was disgusting! It cracked between my teeth and I didn't think it was going to be any use, but as I chewed and chewed, the lump of gum gradually softened and I packed it into the hole to form a seal. I was ready!

  Taking my candle, I touched the flame to my homemade fuse. It sparked and spat and I screwed my eyes tight shut as the flame ran down the fuse towards the hole …

  A muffled bang filled the room, and – ‘Aaagh!’ – it felt as if someone in a pair of football boots had kicked me on the anklebone. But the manacle fell apart with a clatter and I was free!

  I opened my sandwich, retrieved the toffee key and hobbled over to the door. The toffee was rock-hard and I hoped it wouldn't shatter as I turned it in the lock. But luckily the confectionery key turned easily, and with a clunk the door opened and I stepped out into the deserted corridor.