John Drake - Skull and Bones

"I'll sail the ship," said Silver, over the din of gunfire, cries and screaming. "I'll con her to anchor, but you must take command of your men or we're lost. I can't sail her out, for the wind's against us, and we'd have to kedge or warp, which is too slow and they'd sink us! So the only hope is for your men to take the battery. It's that or the ship's lost – and all aboard of us! Can you do that? Can you do it, senor?"

"Yes," said Alvarez. But his face said "no".

"Huh!" said Silver, and grabbed hold of one of his own men, and gabbled at him in harsh, barking English, before turning back to Alvarez. "We're hit below the waterline, which I must attend to… So, can you do it, senor? Take that battery?"

"Yes," said Alvarez in a tiny voice, and he shook as the guns fired again.

"Come on," said Silver, desperate to put heart into the little swab, desperate to save the ship and the woman he loved. "Santiago!" he said. "Go on, boy, shout it out!"

"Santiago!" said Alvarez, mouthing the war cry of Spanish Christendom.

"No," said Silver. "SANTIAGO!" And he yelled with all his might.

"Santiago!" echoed some of the Spanish soldiers, turning round.

"There! Go on, my son," said Silver.

"Santiago! Santiago! Santiago!" cried Alvarez, and the Spaniards cheered.

Better yet, a big sargento named Ortiz – a veteran with a fine moustache – got up from where he'd been sitting in misery with an arm off at the elbow, lashed a line around the stump, and came and stood beside Alvarez.

"Santiago!" cried Ortiz in a deep bellow.

"So!" cried Alvarez, and found his way to his duty. "Bring the longboat alongside." He said it weakly, anxiously looking for reassurance at Sargento Ortiz, who nodded firmly, such that Alvarez drew breath for a real shout: "All hands to boat drill! All hands fall in by the larboard rail!"

The men cheered again. One of them picked up the regimental colour that had gone down when the standard-bearer fell. He raised it, and waved it, and emotion filled them all, as they did their country proud, in the skill and efficiency with which they hauled in the longboat, dropped Spanish seamen into her to man the oars, then filled her with every last man she could hold, which was fifty soldiers and ten oarsmen, the boat being an exceptionally big one, which like San Pedro de Arbuйs that owned her, was built in the style of the last century.

Alvarez went over the side last of all, and all aboard cheered… and all aboard were lucky, for the plunging shot and howling grape that sizzled down from the battery was concentrating exclusively on La Concha, which now slewed crab- wise with yards dangling, sails trailing, blood running from her scuppers, and a slaughterhouse of dead and mangled humanity cramming her decks among the shattered gear, shards and splinters.

And yet, even La Concha was manning her longboat. Smashed and bedraggled as the ship was, the men aboard hadn't given up, and their own shouts of "Santiago!" echoed across the water to sound beside those of Aspirante Alvarez and his men. Soon two boats were pulling for the landing and the stairs, crammed and manned to the gunwales, and enjoying a brief respite from the fire of the battery, as if the guns didn't know which target to choose, allowing the Spanish seamen to pull their hearts out…

Clunk-clank! Clunk-clank! Clunk-clank!

But then the black muzzles found their way, and roared together and shot flew through the air again.

"Where's this bastard shot-hole, then?" said the carpenter's mate as he dashed forward to find Silver, Israel Hands, Mr

Joe and all the rest who were free, waiting for him in the companionway outside the stern cabin.

"There ain't none," said Silver. "But them Dagoes is going to be gone in a brace o' shakes, and most of our lads is in irons below. So I've summoned all hands, for this is our chance to take back our ship!"

"Aye!" they said.

"Aye!" said Silver, and he thought long and hard, and listened to all the noise and fury around him. The soldiers were all on deck, yelling encouragement to their mates in the longboat, while below decks all was quiet.

"Have you got your tools, Mr Carpenter?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n!"

"And you, Mr Gunner?"

"Aye-aye!" said Israel Hands.

"So let's strike the chains off our lads, and be a crew once more!"

"Aye!" they all said.

"And set sail!" said a voice.

"Aye!" they roared.

"No!" said Silver.

"What?"

"We'll take the ship, and break out the fire-arms and man the guns!"

"Aye!"

"But then…we must hold hard, and stay put."

"Why?"

"First, because we don't know who's going to win the fight up above, and whoever wins'll be master of that battery, the which we can't get away from, without the wind changes, for we'd be sunk before we could warp out!"

They nodded. It was true.

"But," said Silver, "there's more…"

"What?" they said.

"Have we come this far to walk away penniless, shipmates?" said Silver. "Penniless, when we could be rich men riding in carriages? You all know I've only half the papers that lead to the treasure, while that bastard Flint has the rest."

"Aye!"

"So are we gentlemen o' fortune or bumboat men? Shall we let Flint keep us from what's ours?"

"No," said the old hands. But some of the youngsters were silent, for not all had sailed with Flint, and to them, his treasure was a fine tale but not reality.

"So what would you do, John?" said Israel Hands.

"What would I do? Why," said Silver, "I'd let the Spanish and the Savannians knock seven bells out of each other, and while they're at it – perhaps tonight – then a band of us shall go ashore, find Jimmy Chester – him as will lead us to Flint – and get them papers off the swab, and his silver case too, if we have to cut it out of him while we roast his arse on a fire!" Silver growled in venom and spite, he clenched his fist and stamped his crutch on the deck. "And by thunder, I'll do it an' all," he said.

There was another silence, then Israel Hands spoke again.

"Beggin' your pardon, Cap'n," he said, touching his hat formally, "but this is for all hands to decide, in council. For we're gentlemen o' fortune, like you said, and there's some what'd wish to take their chances with the battery, or sail upstream, past their reach, and wait for a better wind."

"Aye!" said the others, and Silver nodded, for he had no choice.

"So be it," he said. "Let the council be held!"

Morning, 20th July 1754 The Savannah River

The longboat bumped into mooring posts at the foot of the timber stairs. The men cheered. Alvarez shrieked in relief and joy. They'd made it! They'd come ashore! They'd got under the reach of the slaughtering, murdering battery. They couldn't be hit any more! And thump-bump-crunch, the second longboat – La Concha's – was alongside and crammed with yelling mouths, glittering bayonets and black moustaches. The second boat had been badly hit by grape and there were dead and wounded rolling in her bilges, but she still disgorged a load of fighting men.

"Santiago!" cried Alvarez.

"SANTIAGO!" they all roared.

"Follow me!" cried Alvarez, swept away by the triumph of the moment, and he made ready to jump for the stairs with sword in hand.

"Aspirante," cried Sargento Ortiz, grabbing his arm, "shall we not send the boats back for more men?"

"Oh! Ah!n cried Alvarez. "Soldiers of Spain, follow me! Seamen, return for another load!" And then he was off, fired with fury, erupting with passion, and for once in his life leading from the front with his men following after, boots pounding, muskets clattering, swarming, tumbling out of the wallowing boats, with the seamen urging them on, and thundering up the wooden stairs that creaked and swayed under their load, and pouring out at the top, with Alvarez leaping with excitement and the civilian population of Savannah shrieking and screaming and running in all directions: men and women, children and adults, black, white, red and mulattos of every shade scattering. Some ran to their houses, some to the forest – but mostly they ran pell-mell towards the heavy grey timbers and the smooth, looming earthworks of Savannah's fort… and never a blow struck in defence of the town and never a glimpse of a red coat… except a hundred yards off to one side, where the troops in the now- silent battery stood in their smoke and peered through the embrasures at the Spaniards, now firmly in control of Savannah's stairs.