Conclusions

The book shop door bell rang. Not brother Rowley then… Esme Trundle paused in the hall and looked at the mirror on the wall. She adjusted the velvet choker around her neck and tidied away a stray strand of hair. Then she took a deep breath, and opened wide the door.

‘Welcome, Sir Jasper Scabbard, or is it The Reverend Mr de Quincey?’ she smiled.

Jasper removed his hat and bowed as best he could with one arm in a high sling. ‘For you, Madam Trundle, I am happy to be whatever you would wish…’

‘That is a very foolish thing for any man to say to a woman, inviting her to try and change or mould him to her requirements.’ smiled Esme. ‘It sows the seeds for future resentments and regrets – not of course that it is any business of mine how you wish to conduct yourself in the future… What am I thinking of? Don’t just stand there, you poor man, you look quite worn out. Let me lead you up to your room – can you manage the stairs? Come, let me take your good arm… Here we are – now just back along this corridor to the front of the house… And this is the room on the right.’

It was a large room with a big bay window overlooking the square. Floral damask curtains framed the leaded panes, a deep piled and dark red patterned carpet covered almost all of the polished oak boarded floor, and there was the smell of apple wood smoke rising from the bright glow of the burning logs in the hearth under the figured marble mantelpiece. A wide bed with a colourful patchwork quilt had been set in a curtained alcove at the back of the room, and on the bedside table stood a large brass oil lamp surmounted by a dark green shade. A Staffordshire china washing bowl and ewer stood on the marble topped dressing table, and a large oak kneehole desk with another oil lamp was set against one wall.

A pair of obviously somewhat old but very comfortable deep leather arm chairs were set either side of the fireplace, with another pair in the bay. A cast iron chandelier hung from one of the beams, fresh flowers had been placed in a jug on the low table at the window, and there was a rocking chair in one corner with a large clothes chest nearby.

A tall ebony perch suitable for an aged pet bird stood in one corner. It had two cross pieces on which to stand so that any direction could be easily faced with the minimum of movement (quite a consideration for the elderly ornithore), a large earthenware feeding tray with compartments for fruit, seeds, millet, and grit, a porcelain water bowl around the rim of which were painted humming birds and kingfishers, a cuttle fish to peck on, and a book rest on which was secured a copy of the Cambridge Dictionary of Obscure Quotations.

‘Will this do?’ smiled Esme.

‘Oh, my dear, dear lady… It is absolutely perfect. And how kind you all are – after the dreadful way I have treated you…’

‘Never mind about that. It’s all in the past now, as far as I’m concerned. You and your men have more than redeemed yourselves. You are shivering a little – come, sit beside the fire. Would you like a foot stool?’

‘No, no, thank you, I am fine, fine. Oh, Esme, ’ he sighed, ‘You’ve no idea how pleased I am to see you.’

Yes I have Jasper.’ she replied, squeezing his hand. ‘As pleased as I am to see you, I believe.’

‘You mean…?’ said Jasper, as he felt a stab of the most intense and abiding happiness.

‘You know very well what I mean. We are both adults and know exactly what is happening between us. I think that neither of us have the time nor inclination to pretend or tease, or posture or play games, or circle around each other, testing and torturing to prove or confirm what we may or may not suspect.’

‘But what if my conduct is but a part of a plan to save myself from the gallows?’

‘You are an extremely clever man – you must be to have survived so long in your profession. And I am sure that you can employ the most complex stratagems to achieve your ends. And it is possible that someone such as yourself could place themselves so high in our esteem that we would allow them to sail away, possibly also with all their ill gotten gains so far accrued before coming amongst us.’

‘That was Mr Speke’s intention.’

‘But it was not yours, was it? There have been many indications of your preferred hopes, and anyway, your conduct towards me has been without reproach. You have made none of the overtures that might have been expected if you had wished to use my goodwill or services for ulterior ends. There has been a spark struck between us, and I judge that to be a true and honest feeling.’

Esme sank down beside his chair and took his hand again. ‘Any doubts I had vanished when I heard you had been shot. The rumour arrived at Richpickings before the true intelligence, and I understood that you had been killed. I felt such a grief then, with the barely acknowledged possibilities dashed completely, that I knew exactly where I stood.’

‘Oh, my dear lady,’ said Jasper, putting his uninjured arm around her shoulders, ‘I am so sorry. And you should know that for my part I felt that spark the day you so bravely repelled me from your property, and with the spark came a certain bitterness and resignation that a glimpse of possible happiness was just that, a glimpse, and nothing more. And whilst I have been out of Summerdale not a minute has passed, no, truly, not a minute, even in the heat of conflict, when I did not have in my mind’s eye the sight of you, wearing that choker, in that doorway, proud and brave and beautiful, your eyes blazing, and me, in these later changed circumstances, wondering how you would receive me on my return…’

‘Well now you know.’ said Esme tenderly, rising and kissing him on the brow. She squeezed his hand again. ‘But now I hear a shuffling in the corridor and some very loud discrete coughing, so let us compose ourselves… Is that you Rowley?’

Later that evening Rathbone called at the book shop.

‘Oh, good.’ said Esme. ‘Please come in Mr Rathbone. Jasper is up in his room and will be glad to see you. I was about to take him some refreshment – would you care to follow me upstairs?’

‘Evening, Sir J.’ said Rathbone, admiring the room. ‘This is nice and cosy.’

‘Indeed it is, old friend. How about your quarters? I think that you ought to take over my cabin on the Leopard in view of the future plans.’

‘I think perhaps not until the men have had the chance to talk about what’s on offer. I’m getting them all together tomorrow to explain the details, and hopefully you’ll then have a word as well. They don’t really have a choice in the circumstances, but the more they feel a part of it the happier they’ll be. And me taking over straight away is a bit of a fait accompli, don’t you think?’

‘You see how lucky I have been with a First Mate such as this?’

‘I do indeed.’ smiled Esme. ‘Well I’d best leave you gentlemen to discuss business.’

‘No, no,’ said Jasper. ‘Please stay, just for a moment…’

‘Very well.’ smiled Esme, standing by his chair with her hand on his uninjured shoulder.

Jasper coughed and cleared his throat. ‘You see before you an undeserving but very happy superannuated buccaneer.’

‘Excellent!’ grinned Rathbone. ‘I’d rather hoped that would be the case.’

‘Madame Trundle – Esme, and I both wanted you to know how we stand, although it is rather too early to be generally made known. I am anxious that the community should understand how genuine my intentions are, not just for myself and the crew, but for everyone.

I know how very lucky I am. Because of the goodwill shown to us the possibility of being permitted to settle in Summerdale had become a likely prospect, even if my future was just to be one of retirement, sitting by the Rowan listening to the ripple of the river, browsing amongst Mr Buckram’s books, helping out where kindly permitted, perhaps possibly pottering about in a little garden, to be remembered as a harmless soul…’

‘ “Oh rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more…” ’ said Tantamount. ‘ “And the woodbine’s spices are wafted abroad, and the musk of the rose is blown.” ‘

‘Yes, quite.’

‘ “Take, take away the gaudy triumphs of the world, the long and deathless shallow shout of fame…” ‘

‘Exactly. Most apt.’ said Jasper, whilst Esme stifled a giggle. ‘But that simple prospect of modest contentment has been transformed by this very dear and lovely lady into one of happiness, with a bright and industrious future that could bring real benefits to many.’

‘Over four hundred years ago, before the Black Death, there were prosperous villages in High Summerdale.’ explained Esme. ‘But now most of that area has become a wilderness. Much of my own land is far from fully developed, and beyond it the fertile heath and woodland could well be made into a profitable estate. But it needs someone with vision, determination, and leadership, backed by the necessary investment, to undertake the task.’

‘Now I wonder who that could be?’ smiled Rathbone.

‘And it would please us both,’ continued Esme, ‘If once this merchant venture with the new United States of America was established, provided it suited you perhaps you might consider joining us to help manage such a project? There would be produce beyond the needs of Summerdale to sell elsewhere, to the growing manufacturing towns in Lancashire, and perhaps wider afield. You might also find someone, in your travels or here in Summerdale, with whom you could share a future as well?’

‘Well, that’s a happy thought indeed, but unlikely.’ said Rathbone. ‘Although, if I’m getting about a bit legitimately – who knows? Yes, my prospects seem to be getting rosier as well. I’ll take the liberty of saying that in my limited experience some people, when cupid strikes, can be a bit of a pain, what with all reason going out of the window and having to make up for them wandering about with their heads in the clouds, but with others, like your good selves, they spread a glow about them that lights up the cockles of your heart.’

‘Oh, dear Mr. Rathbone…’ said Esme, taking both his hands in hers. ‘We are so fortunate to have you as a friend.’

 

The Meeting of the Brotherhood

The pirates meeting was surprisingly orderly. Possibly because of the sobering effect of the Council Chamber in which it was held, or maybe because of the notice outside the Town Hall…

BROTHERHOOD OF THE BLACK LEOPARD

Terminal Arrangements

A Bright Future or Uncertain Death?

Sunday 3.0 p.m.

Absentees will be keelhauled

Rathbone chaired the meeting, with Rowley Buckram, the Mayor, and Sir Jasper also on the platform. Petty Officer Archibald was at one side with his own desk to take minutes, and as Purser to answer questions about finances.

The Cook was also sitting alone, not because of any specific function but rather more due to the extensive haze of hops, fermented yeast, and hooch fumes that hung about his person. His cat sat on his lap, glaring at Tantamount with the usual heartily reciprocated ill concealed loathing.

The meeting was called to order.

‘Mr. Purser, would you read the minutes of the last meeting please?’ said Rathbone.

‘What minutes?’ said Archibald. ‘Come to that, what meeting? Oh, I remember. But that was five years ago.’

‘Never mind – just stick to the procedures will you?’

‘Like to but can’t. We agreed to make a run for it, didn’t we? Despite the howling gale and the gunfire from the forts. God knows what happened to the papers in the chaos – probably got washed overboard.’

‘Very well. No matters arising from the minutes then, I take it?’

‘Not a lot…’

‘Wassee on about?’

‘I still think we should have reefed in that top-gallant.’ said Morry. ‘Lovely shade of eau-de-nil it was, beautiful stitching on the seams – blown to kingdom come by now.’

‘Yes, yes… Well we’d best get on with it. Have you all read the agenda?’

‘No.’

‘Well you should have. Copies were posted up on the Leopard, in the Inn, on the Town Hall notice board, and in the hallway of Mother Comfort’s House of Pleasure in Comehither Lane.

‘Oh, I saw that – bit preoccupied though, forgot to read it.’

‘Tough. You’ll just have to pick up the threads as we go along. Now, item one…

‘Excuse me – d’ye mind? Afore ye start…’

‘Yes? What is it?’

‘Foul Carnage MacCroon, Ordn’y S’man, Maj’sty’s pirate ship Black Leopard oot o’ wherever it were afore we painted it oot, ah forget noo.’

‘We all know who you are Carnage. What do you want?’

‘Dinna be like that. Ah’ve bin asked tae propose a vote o’ effing thanks tae the effing Mayor and t’ lads and lasses o’ Goldcaster. One’st it had bin all effing sorted ye could’na bin more hospitable like, ye ken wa’ ah’m saying? None o’ tha’ Embro ‘Ye’ll a had ye tea?’ palaver here, jimmy. Open hoos an’ warm welcome in all quarters by the way. An’ after the awfu start, an’ lucky no one effing deid, aye? So effing t’anks, an’ that…’

‘Well, thank you very much, Mr. MacCroon.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘I shall ensure that those warm sentiments are made known to all residents of Goldcaster.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Mayor…’ sighed Rathbone. ‘Now -ITEM ONE! – condition of the wounded. Oh, not you again Carnage…’

‘Aye. Ah reepresent the afflicted members of the crew, and in r’sponse tae ye own reques’ Mist’ Chairman, we ha’ drawn up a wee schedule affair, like…’ Carnage placed a pair of very battered string lashed spectacles upon his bony nose.

‘Ahem… Item; Strong represeentashuns tae desist fro’ callin us the Old Incapables. And asosheeated wi’ tha’ item such effing remarks as ‘not yet ready to begin walkin’ an’ talkin’ at tha same time yet’, d’ye mind?’

‘Point taken, Carnage. Knock it off you lot – they all got stuck in.’

‘Ah’m obleeged. Noo –Injuries; Item A – we’d like a wee bit list o’ any injuries to oor new Goldcaster frens slow in heelin’ like. Wi’ a view to visits, helpin’ oot, walkin’ the dog, bunches o’ grapes, whateffer – ye ken wa’ ah mean?’

‘Very thoughtful, thank you.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘I will attend to it.’

‘Aye, if ye will. And ah noo come to Injuries, item B – Our oon injuries an’ state o’ play as requested which are:

One broken index finger, left hand; light duties – review four weeks;

Sundry burns an’ bruises all healing well and owners already working;

One broken wrist and broken collar bone – getting bored, off sick until mended;

One broken ankle – same, only more bored, getting’ a wee bit tetchy ah’d say;

One wound in thigh frae yon Boswell fella’s nifty sword – mendin’ but slow job;

One dislocated shoulder – put back but still givin’ gip;

An’ Ordn’y S’man Onions wi’ a badly burnt hand, cracked heid, broken jaw and self-bitten tongue. Long job, tha’ laddie.

An’ finally o’ course ma oon poor wee footies wi’ twa toes effing caput by the way. Ah can hobble aboot like, but canna kick anyone yet.’

‘I wouldn’t call your feet ‘wee’, Carnage.’ said Rathbone. ‘They must be size fourteen if they’re a day…’

‘Thirteen treble E d’ye mind. Now ah’d like te end wi’ a wee word frae the baird hissel;

“Sair rins the Tweed hoocht, Jeannie,

Blithe towmond, bonnie skirl,

The Snowther’s blate the criff, Jeannie,

Wi’ birkie frae the sirl.

O ken ye Wullie Broon, Jeannie,

Whaur’s the limmer noo,

Flicht stricht the bricht licht fa’s, Jeannie,

An’ mony mair tae you.” ’

 

‘And mony mair to you, too, Carnage.’ said Jasper. ‘Very moving.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ said Rathbone. ‘Nice to see that Summerdale has brought out a gentler (if still unintelligible) side in you that nobody ever suspected… What is it Onions?’

‘I gog a giggle git og gog og a gig gell, and gats gen ig gent or me, an I’g gike go gib ig bag, an gos anygon go how gong ig gakes gor a goken gaw goo geel?’

‘Does anyone know what he’s on about?’ sighed Rathbone. ‘No thank you Carnage – I’d sooner have it English if possible.’

‘It’s quite simple.’ said Morry smugly. ‘He says he managed to get a little bit of gold off the big bell and that’s when it went for him, and he’d like to give it back, and does anyone know how long it takes for a broken jaw to heal?’

‘Yes, of course he can give it back, and well done for owning up. Now let’s think… yes, the last broken jaw we had was coming along nicely after about eight weeks, for what its worth. Unfortunately the patient got eaten by a shark then so I can’t say how long it would have taken to fully heal. Well, thank you for that report, Seaman MacCroon. I now call upon our Captain and Mr. Buckram to set out the details of the proposed reorganisation…’

The mood of the meeting became quite cheerful when the proposal was explained.

‘Sounds good to me Cap’n. Are there any alternatives?’

‘No. Though I suppose you could always join one of those expeditions to find the North West Passage, and freeze to death on some frail leaking vessel creaking as it was crushed in the pincers of an ice flow, surrounded by scurvy ridden crew gnawing at their shoe leather?’

‘Er, not busting keen on that, no…’

‘How about joining the Royal Navy with the prospect of being flogged to death for being insubordinate?’

‘I had some of that – jumped ship and joined you, if you remember?’

‘So you did. And if you joined again you’d be hung at the yardarm for desertion. Not much of a prospect, is it?’

‘Suppose not, Cap’n. Bit of a no-no really.’

‘I wouldn’t mind going and living on some island.’ said Eustace.

‘What, you? On an uninhabited island?’ said Clarence. ‘How would you manage?’

‘No, not an uninhabited island.’ said Eustace.

‘Well it jolly soon would be once the people realised you’d arrived.’

‘The back of my hand’s going to have a serious word with your earole in a minute…’

‘Order, order!’ said Rathbone. ‘Moving on – Financial Arrangements; Mr. Purser…’

‘Thank you, Mr. Chairman. Now, lads, you’ve heard how the Captain and Mr. Buckram will fund the start up, as we investment analysts call it, but what you’ll want to know is where the profit goes and what’ll be your shares. Well it is proposed that once we get going, from the net profit ten percent will go towards repayment of investments, fifteen percent to pension fund, fifteen percent to reserves, ten percent to contingency, and no less than fifty percent to be shared amongst crew of any particular voyage according to rank.’

There was a murmuring of approval amongst the meeting.

‘Yum, yum… Have some of that… Sounds good to me… Soon have shed loads stashed away…’

‘Mind you,’ said Archibald, ‘That’s how the net profit is split. That’s what’s left after the expenses are taken out of the Gross Revenue.’

‘Yeah, well, reasonable, that… Normal business practice, innit?… Yeah, fair enough. What are these expenses then?’

‘I’m glad you asked that. There’s the cost of cargo for each voyage, then there’s heating and lighting, repairs and maintenance, postage and communications, printing and stationery, advertising and promotion, accountancy costs…’

‘Who’s the accountant?’

‘Me.’

‘Thought it might be. Is there more?’

‘Yes. Insurance, bank charges, harbour and other duties, bribes – sorry, professional fees, and staff entertainment. Alright?’

‘Suppose so. But we never had all that with piracy.’

‘We didn’t advertise too much – they’d have known we was coming.’

‘And as for the rest – we just took what we wanted…’

‘Very true.’ said Rathbone. ‘But with this method you don’t risk getting hung. And you get a good living and a future. Right – questions from the floor please – sensible ones preferably…’

‘Could someone spend time at sea, and then swap with another settled in Summerdale for a voyage or two for a bit of a change? If all concerned agreed?’

Those on the platform conferred together with shrugging of shoulders and nodding of heads.

‘We don’t see why not.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘As long as everyone was happy.’

‘How long are we likely to be ashore at various ports Mr Chairman? With regard to sightseeing opportunities and getting to know the residents an’ that?’

‘He means becoming acquainted with the local bed warmers. (New York’s good for that – all over you like a rash they are there.)’

‘There will be plenty of time for normal rest and recreation.’ said Rowley. ‘What with unloading and disposing of the cargo, taking on board local goods, making future arrangements, and so on.’

‘What are we going to call the old Leopard?’

‘Good question.’ said Jasper. ‘ She’ll have to be renamed – this particular leopard will have to change her spots. Let us have some suggestions later, gentlemen.’

‘How about The Witch of Summerdale?… I fancy the Lady Jane… What about the Goldcaster Belle – Har, har, har!…

‘I think we should call her The Gay Buccaneeer.’ said Morry.

‘Yes, most amusing.’ said Rathbone. ‘But let’s have suggestions in writing please and we’ll come to a decision during the refit.’

‘What if anyone misbehaves?’

‘You mean let all their mates down and be sent to Coventry for the rest of their life most of which will be spent looking over their shoulders to avoid a kicking, and lose their wages? Well, we’ll have to keep them in after the voyage, won’t we?’

‘But there’s no prison here.’

‘Soon build one, Sunny Jim. I’m prepared to take bookings for next year if you’re that interested? Is that it? Good – all those in favour (and you’d better be) raise your hands… My word – unanimous, what a surprise. Thank you gentlemen. Any other business? No? Right – meeting closed, time for tea.’

 * * *

 

‘Have you had enough excitement for a while?’ asked Rowley.

‘I suppose so.’ said Elisabeth. ‘I must try and be content and reconcile myself to normal life I suppose, educating myself as best I can.’

Aunt Hetty smiled. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong girl. How would you like to come and stay with me for a while? You’d learn a little more about the craft, I promise you. And you’d meet my cousin Aquilegia – that would be an education on its own. Mind you we’d have to be back in a few weeks time – there’s something else afoot. And, if you want to take part in that, I think it will prove a most interesting experience. You could even bring some surprising books back I expect. But there’s others involved who have to agree first…’

She gestured towards the little group sitting in the sun on the other side of Mr Bagley’s garden.

‘It’s been a week since you returned to us,’ said Professor Paragon, ‘And your health appears much improved. When do you expect to be fully recovered?’

‘The sling was removed yesterday, ‘ said Jasper, ‘And your Aunt now permits me to use my arm again, provided I make no sudden movements yet. Within two or three weeks I should be back to normal. Her potions and poultices have been remarkably effective.’

‘I am glad for you – it could have been so much worse. And now the future looks bright, does it not? You are a very lucky man. Esme Trundle is a fine, handsome woman.’

Jasper looked towards Esme, who, with a basket on her arm, was picking blackberries on the hill below the garden with Tom and Rathbone, and laughing as the Midshipman was lifted high in the air to pluck the ripest fruit.

‘Very, very lucky.’ nodded Jasper.

‘ “A perfect woman, nobly planned…” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘Quite.’ said the Professor. ‘And you have the prospect of a very busy and fulfilling occupation in High Summerdale. But once you have settled, would you be interested in the occasional diversion on the side of right, possibly also giving some of your men an extra interest? With Esme’s full agreement of course. And with the absolute assurance that you none of you would be known or recognised.’

‘Well, yes, perhaps I might. Provided all was proceeding satisfactorily here and I was not to be too long away. I am most anxious to make amends in any way possible.’

‘Good. Very good. But where could we be of help and not run the risk of being caught up by our past?’

‘I promise you that would not be a problem and you would only be need for a moment.’

‘A moment only? But how can that be?’

‘I will explain presently, but first let me give you examples of the sort of situation that I have in mind. There are frequently troubled communities dominated by harsh organisations or corrupt government where intervention by you and your particularly talented crew would be ideal. Often the local people’s particular talents and advantages need reviving and they lack the leadership and ingenuity with which to oppose their oppressors.

Aunt Hetty has also indicated that she would be available to assist with certain special matters. And be assured, wherever I would send you, you would be a stranger and in no danger from being held to account for your past activities.

Would you and your key men be interested? They would be more than adequately rewarded and you yourself could obtain not only great satisfaction but also substantial material advantage for the future of yourself and Summerdale.’

‘I am of course very interested, but my first duty is now to the lady who has agreed to be my wife, and I feel that this is too soon to be away when we have so many things to attend to and so much to enjoy together…’

‘Believe me I fully appreciate that, and I would not suggest this if you were to be absent for more than the briefest time. The matter arose in conversation with my Aunt, and now she understands the special nature of the tasks I have in mind Esme is in full agreement.’

‘Really?’ said Jasper, rather surprised. He looked over the garden towards Esme. She waved happily to him and nodded her head. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I must consult with her, but if that really is the case, provided my men agree, we could well be available. But how could I be sure that I and my men would be unknown?’

‘But when I say you have nothing to fear, I really mean it. I promise you, you would be totally unknown because the opportunities of which I speak are in the future.’

‘In the future?!

‘Indeed. You and your team would travel forward in time for any endeavour and, however long it took to achieve the task, will return the next day in our time, all being well.’

‘Great heavens – can this really be possible?’

‘Oh, yes. And it is quite safe, I assure you, as long as we adhere strictly to the procedures. I do it all the time. We merely arrange for your molecular structures to be precisely teleported to the time and place determined. I would of course demonstrate for you the whole detailed process before asking you to commit yourself.’

Not having been in the Tabernacle when Professor Paragon had perilously returned home from his recent shopping trip, to his later regret Jasper failed at this point to doubt the supposed simplicity of the process. And I wonder, he thought, if I could secure my hidden French treasure… ‘Well, if time travel is as straightforward as you say…’

‘Oh, yes. But how would your men feel, arriving in unfamiliar environments, full of strange customs and surprises?’

‘I should think that they would take it in their stride. After all, when not attacking shipping, they’ve been doing that for years.’

‘I suppose they have.’ smiled the Professor. ‘Then would you be interested?’

‘Yes, Professor Paragon,’ said Jasper Scabbard. ‘I do believe I would…’

‘So – “Its cheerio, my deario,” ’squawked Tantamount, “I don’t mind if I do.” ’

And the seagulls circled slowly overhead…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

The Return of the Mission

After the Mission member’s night’s rest and a hearty breakfast (local Fartlethwaite smoked bacon, duck eggs, black pudding, sausages, lamb chops, kidneys, tomatoes, mushrooms, and fried home baked bread – all of which would probably play havoc with Jasper’s digestion later), they were about to return to Summerdale.

‘Doctor Johnson, I have put you to much trouble and inconvenience.’ said Jasper. ‘I know not how to make amends.’

‘Nonsense, sir. Had you not taken us into your custody your smuggling associates would have killed us. And had you not given us your protection and filed us safely out of harm’s way upon the island that scoundrel Speke may well have contrived our deaths.’

‘You are generous, sir. How will you explain your absence to your friends?’

‘We shall imply, if asked, that in haste, due perhaps to some indisposition of mine, we boarded the wrong vessel on Anglesey, a packet boat to Goldcaster instead of one to Liverpool perhaps, and that having recovered in Summerdale we then made our way south again. But what about yourself?’

‘My fate is in the hands of my captors. In the unlikely event that they will have me I am inclined to stay in Summerdale, but would need some sort of competence or occupation if I was not to be a charge upon the community. And of course the problem of the disposal of my crew and ship has yet to be resolved.’

‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that just now.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Something will be sorted, never fear.’

‘And then, of course, there is the matter of the warrants outstanding for me in a regrettably large number of quarters.’

‘We have not been unaffected by your integrity, Sir Jasper.’ said Boswell. ‘And Doctor Johnson and I have agreed that if such a danger should ever arise we shall speak on your behalf, declaring how you saved our lives, rendered great service in respect of Mr Buckram, and captured the most dangerous of outlaws. With the additional testimony of the Mayor of Goldcaster and Professor Paragon, and whatever influence we may have in certain quarters, it may very well be the case that an amnesty would be granted.’

Doctor Johnson then turned to Aunt Hetty. ‘Well, madam,’ he said. ‘‘It has been a strange and illuminating pleasure to make your acquaintance. Should you ever be in London I hope that you would do me the honour of lodging with me. Your company is most refreshing and there is much I would like to discuss with you.’

‘I would be most honoured to be the guest of the Grand Cham himself.’ replied Aunt Hetty. ‘And indeed I can understand your affection for the metropolis. I know that you have said that one who is tired of London is tired of life, but whenever I am there I feel that all my few abilities are needed to survive the visit, what with the incidence of dropsy, quinsey, tisick, measles, croup, gout, thrush, coughs, whooping cough, pleurisy, dysentery, kings evil, and melancholia…’

‘And what about teething fever, over-laying, and the perils of childbirth?’ asked Morry. ‘Although perhaps not so much in your case, Sister Hepzibah.’

‘And then there’s abel-wackets, mould shot head, bowel fever, and rot gut.’ said Clarence. ‘And the cow-itch, the crinkums, the creepers, the crumblies, and the cascades. Especially in Hackney.’

‘And it’s full of villains.’ said Archibald. ‘Even worse than Tunbridge Wells. You’re always in danger from chop dowsers, fire priggers, foot pads, fraters, rum dubbers and the duelling surfeit.’

‘And the congestion…’ said Jasper. ‘The streets are so full one is hard put to find somewhere to tether one’s horse, let alone to park one’s carriage, and it takes hours to get anywhere.’

‘And the pollution…’ said Clarence. ‘Sea coal smoke from thousands of chimneys, up to your ankles in horse dung, and raw sewage flowing in the Fleet…’

‘Aside from all that of course it is a charming place,’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘But not for me except in dire emergencies. But I would dearly wish to continue our acquaintance and might well consider coming as far south as Lichfield when next you are there. And as for dear, gallant Mr Boswell, he has already promised to divert to us when convenient during his regular journeys between Edinburgh and London. It would be a great pleasure to see him again, and I am sure that my nephew would welcome him to Castle Crab, indeed I can promise him that he would.’

The Mission equipment being all assembled and the Bashems, horses, packhorses, and pirates all prepared, they then sought out Captain Russell, thanked him for his hospitality and kindness, and bid him farewell.

And so they set off back to Summerdale, Brother Archibald’s tambourine and Brother Dancer’s triangle and trilling voice accompanying them as they made their way out of Fartlethwaite…

 

‘Say goodbye to your web-footed friends

For a duck may be somebody’s mother…’

‘Damned strange hymn, what, what?’ laughed Captain Russell.

‘Ah, perhaps.’ said Doctor Johnson, patting him on the shoulder. ‘But why should the devil have all the best tunes, eh?’

As the Mission disappeared out of sight Russell snapped his fingers. ‘Gad, I remember now who he reminds me off – different hat, different hair, different moustache, but quite the likeness of Scabbard the pirate..’

‘Yes, very possibly.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘The De Quinceys are a collateral branch of the family, you know. Scabbard is the great shame that they all bare. Probably one of the reasons our friend works so hard without thought of his own discomfort to do so much good in the world.’

The return journey was deliberately unhurried and it was near noon on the Saturday by the time they reached the crest of the pass and Jasper looked down once again upon Summerdale. The last few miles had been the hard and difficult slog up the narrow rough track, with the horses slipping and his shoulder very painful when jerked and shaken about. He was glad to dismount and lean back against a rock, feeling the gentle breeze coming up from the valley, whilst they paused for a rest.

Fastnet and Rockall had left them earlier that morning and flown on ahead, and now he was surprised and delighted to see them returning with the whole herring gull squadron flying as guard of honour to a very old, rather threadbare, but still colourful and very dear friend.

‘ “Home are the sailors, home from the sea, and the heroes are home from the hill.” ‘ said Tantamount, settling on his good shoulder, and pecking affectionately at his hat.

Now, from between the great boulders through which twisted the winding trail below, also appeared Rowley Buckram, with Elisabeth and Tom, closely followed by Spud Tadmartin, Eustace, Twiga, and several other pirates.

‘Welcome, Jasper Scabbard,’ beamed Rowley, reaching down and shaking his hand. ‘Welcome back to Summerdale.’

‘My dear Mr Buckram, this is most kind, sir. But you ought still to be resting. You have been through great privation and should not have undertaken the arduous climb up here.’

‘Well, those villains pushed me about a bit, yes, but no permanent harm was done, and I rather feel that the enforced semi-starvation has done me the world of good – I must be a stone and a half lighter now. Besides, you and your men have saved my life. The least I can do is to be amongst the first to welcome you home.’

‘Home, you say?’

‘There are already many of us who now have a high regard for you, and considerable expectation that matters may so be arranged that you could settle in Summerdale, if that was your wish.’

‘Those sentiments are most gratifying, but we must not mistake momentary popularity for lasting renown. And besides, once I have ensured that all that is possible has been done towards resolving my debt to you, my first priority is the fate and the future of my men.’

‘We are aware of that and have been giving it great consideration. We have some ideas to discuss with you that may prove well worthwhile for all concerned. But first let’s get you and these fine fellows down to the town for some hearty Summerdale food and a well deserved rest in comfortable quarters. I hope that you will be kind enough to lodge with me until you are fully recovered? I have a large and comfortable room made ready for you overlooking the Market Square, if that would do?’

‘I could be your on shore midshipman.’ said Tom. ‘My parents say I could help you while you’re getting better.’

‘I take that offer very kindly Tom. But before I make any appointments I always consult the First Mate as second in command. What say you Mr Rathbone?’

‘What, young Thomas Trundle, eh? Let’s see… A bit impetuous, tends to get captured rather too often, needs to take closer heed of instructions certainly, but brave – no doubt about it, strong and willing – yes, bright and quick witted too. Has the makings of a sound midshipman I would say. But how on earth will they cope at Frodley Farm without young Tom to help? And can we afford him?’

‘I don’t want payment!’ said Tom indignantly. ‘And Uncle Rowley says he will feed me and Spud is already helping us at the farm’

‘I was only joking, Tom.’ laughed Rathbone. ‘In that case I say have him aboard Captain, by all means.’

‘Thank you Mr Rathbone.’ said Tom. ‘Can I start this afternoon Sir Jasper?’

‘I think you’ll find he already has.’ smiled Rowley. ‘ The fire is laid and the ewer’s full of water in your room already. My sister Esme Trundle offered to put you up at Richpickings, but she agreed that it would be more appropriate for you to be near the centre of things, so that you could go aboard the Black Leopard when you needed to and attend to necessary business in the town.’

‘Well, of course you are right, but it was most kind of her to make the offer.’ said Jasper, a little wistfully, Aunt Hetty thought.

‘Aunt Esme was very concerned when she heard that you’d been shot.’ said Elisabeth, her eyes twinkling. ‘So were we all.’

‘Was she? Really? Oh, er – how kind – of you all, of course. After what I’ve put you through. Strange how things can change.’ Jasper said ruefully. ‘She nearly shot me herself last week, you know?’

‘Oh, I know.’ laughed Elisabeth. ‘I was hiding in the hall cupboard.’

‘I might have guessed it. I never stood a chance, did I? Once you all got organised, and had the help of this amazing lady and her nephew…’

‘It was damned hard work,’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘On everybody’s part. And the timing was a nightmare.’

‘Knowing what I do now about your profession, I can appreciate that. And without the enterprise and determination of so many others, not least Elisabeth and Tom here, I would probably have done far more harm before any help could be obtained. But for the first time in my long and varied career, I am very glad to have been beaten.’

The party now set off again down the track.

‘I hope you men have all been busy?’ said Jasper.

‘Oh, we have, Cap’n, we have indeed. All the plunder’s been given back (save for what we’ve eaten of course.)’

‘And we’re making up for that, what with working in people’s gardens, learning how to plough, and me helping down the bakery.’ said Hawser Trunnion. ‘The Baker’s sister’s a funny woman – keeps leering and winking and nudging me. I got flour all down me front this morning.’

‘I spend quite a bit of time at Frodley Farm.’ said Spud. ‘I’ve repaired all the damage, and have got quite good at the milking and that, stoke me mizzen with a grog bottle if I haven’t.’

‘And the Cook’s been helping at the brewery. He’s been learning about hops and malt and mashing and yeast, and they’ve been learning about pot stills and potheen and turning potatoes into hooch. He’s quite his old self now he’s got away from Missis Tupman. Out of it a lot of the time admitted, but quite his old self…’

‘And Mr Nudd, the blacksmith, he was well pleased when he got back to find his forge all repaired and ready for business. Been shoeing like a good ‘un ever since.’

‘Some of us wouldn’t mind staying if they’d have us. Seem to be getting on well with the locals.’

‘Turns out they’re not enemy really.’ said Eustace happily. ‘I’m saving up to buy a bucket.’

‘A bucket?’ said Jasper. ‘What do you need a bucket for, for heavens sake?’

‘And a sponge. I’m going to be an optical illuminator enhancer.’ said Eustace proudly. Well, that’s what your parrot called it. I’m going to get a window cleaning round.’

‘And what about a ladder?’ said Rathbone. ‘And anyway, you’re afraid of heights.’

‘Won’t need a ladder. Only going to do low down single storey windows.’

‘Oh dear.’ sighed Jasper. ‘I think I can detect a slight flaw in your business plan.’

‘Wassat then Cap’n?’

‘It may have escaped your notice, but those windows in single storey premises are more likely to be cleaned by the occupants themselves without recourse to the option of employing a redundant pirate.’

‘Oh, well, never mind. Got another job anyway.’

‘I am impressed Eustace.’ said Jasper. ‘This shows considerable enterprise – your mum will be pleased. So what else are you doing?’

‘Ostling.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m an ostler. Wiv ‘orses. At the Inn.’

‘He’s coming on a bundle, Cap’n. Even started feeding them at the right end now. And he sings as he works.’

‘Don’t the horses mind?’ asked Rathbone.

‘I don’t think so.’ said Eustace. ‘They only kick a bit. And I groom them with one eye on the clock for when their needed, and have ‘em ready in order, and see there’s enough hay and straw and water and that…’

‘Amazing.’ said Rathbone. ‘Very well done, for someone who used not to be able to suck a sweet and fart at the same time.’

‘I get on well with dumb animals, I do.’ said Eustace, offended.

‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ sighed Jasper.

Downhill they made their way, past the point where Fastnet and his friends had attacked and driven off the guards on the track, past the edge of the great wood where so many citizens went into hiding, down and around the hill on which stood the church of St. Jocelyn Without, and so at last to Goldcaster and into the Market Square.

Here a large crowd of citizens and pirates had assembled, and there was a heartening cheer as the party came into view. Mr Bagley bustled out on to the Town Hall steps to greet them, followed by Professor Paragon, Umbrage, and Barney Trim, and even Morlock the Scavenger was there, standing a little apart from the crowd naturally, but smiling and waving his shovel in greeting.

The Bashem brothers and the members of the Mission were all merrily manhandled by congratulatory comrades, and Jasper was helped off his horse with the hand on his one good arm in danger of being shaken off as well.

‘How kind… Thank you, thank you… Hello again – did you ever get that supper we owed you? -fine, fine… Mr Nudd – good to see you sir. I understand the forge is in order once more? And decorated with such good taste as well you say? No, I’m afraid I don’t think we have any more topless posters of Miss Senegal – But I’ll ask Able Seaman Twiga – he specialises in that sort of thing… Ah, Mr Trundle – we meet at last – I owe you so much sir, not least the acquaintance with your offspring. No, no, we couldn’t possibly have managed without Madam Paragon… That’s you Achmed, isn’t it – hiding behind the pillar. I recognise the scimitar. Managing alright are we? Good, good. Hello Haroun – have you really? – well done lad… Mr Boon, how are you sir? Ouch! No, not your fault…’

‘Let the poor man be!’ shouted Aunt Hetty. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for all that when they’ve had a bite to eat and a bit of a rest.’

‘There’s a lunch laid on for you all in the inn.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘How very kind.’ said Jasper looking around the square. ‘It’s as though almost everybody in Summerdale was present…’

‘Aunt Esme will be down this afternoon.’ smiled Elisabeth. ‘A seagull was sent to tell her when you were coming over the pass.’

‘Ah, really… Oh good. Not that she should put herself out on my account of course. But yes, I would wish to make my peace with her. Where is Mr Speke?’

Ah…’ said Mr Bagley. ‘He’s had a bit of an accident I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, dear. How is he?’

‘Quite ill.’ said Barney. ‘In fact a bit dead, as it happens…’

‘How did he die?’ asked Jasper, once they had sat down to dine in a private room at the Inn.

‘ “Something lingering, with boiling oil in it for preference?” ’ said Tantamount.

‘Well it was rather protracted, I am afraid.’ said Professor Paragon. ‘But he really brought it upon himself, being so determined to make off with your treasure chest. It was his greed and ruthlessness that made it necessary to act. Once it became apparent that there was no other choice, we had to strike during the period when the moon was waning and the power to harm was highest. Of course, thanks to the seagulls, we knew his every move, and had to do very little to ensure that he knew the whereabouts of the treasure. He set out to challenge the power that was protecting it and so was destroyed.’

‘He was not a pretty sight when we found him.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘Well no-one looks their best with a foot blown off, their throat ripped open, and their eyes pecked out.’ said Barney.

‘But there are certain advantages consequent upon his removal.’ said the Professor. ‘Besides the strongest reminder that any transgressions here in Summerdale can be dealt with rapidly and, if necessary, with terminal effect, he would have been a major obstacle to any agreements we may come to about the future of your crew.’

‘The suggestion we would like to discuss presently just would not be possible if the Quartermaster was involved.’ said Rowley.

‘Well, it seems his death was most fortuitous.’ said Jasper, wryly. ‘I think I can promise you that with such a rapid trial and sentence to remind us of the consequences of ill conduct, every one of us will behave ourselves in an exemplary manner whilst under your guardianship. I must confess Mr Speke is one of the few I shall not miss.’

‘How did he come to be in your Company?’ asked Mr Bagley.

‘He was the Quartermaster on a privateer that was wrecked on a reef off the Maldives. All were lost save himself and a few others who, being in the vicinity, we took aboard. Now, Professor, assuming that you have been the prime mover in his fate, and having in mind what you and dear Hetty here said earlier about the rebounding Triple Effect, I hope that you have not been inconvenienced?’

‘He’s a quick learner, isn’t he?’ laughed Aunt Hetty

‘How considerate of you to remember that and think of my possible discomfort. But you will also recall that in Summerdale the effects are much reduced because of the bells. Still I was greatly fatigued for a couple of days afterwards. I have an irritating ulcer on my left foot, my eyes itch rather, and the toy dragon appears to have expired, otherwise all is well, thank you.’

‘I am relieved.’ said Jasper ‘But what about Steelclaw Hawkins and Blackheart Luke? They came to us with Speke – it would have been most convenient if they went as he left.’

‘Oh, they have gone alright.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘But not as we would have wished. Having seen the – er, shall we say special effects that he provoked, the seagulls wisely left the vicinity, as indeed did every other creature in the area. It being by that time quite dark, the gulls did not see those two, who also having fled, then made their way secretly down to the harbour, and must have stood out to sea in your longboat.’

‘Umm…’ mused Jasper. ‘If they survive they may well reveal our whereabouts if captured or when bragging in some dive.’

‘The gulls told us that the Quartermaster’s plan was to sail to Belfast. And those two not only had their own sea chests aboard the boat, but also the one belonging to Speke, the contents of which I believe should provide them both with more than enough to live a comfortable life if disposed of wisely.’ said the Professor.

‘But they are not wise.’ said Jasper grimly. ‘They are stupid and evil.’

‘If they do provoke any enquiry, we shall totally deny any knowledge of pirates, or robbery, or plundering or assault, or anything of the sort.’ smiled Mr Bagley.

‘But what if the Black Leopard is still in the harbour when such an enquirer may come to call?’

‘Perhaps this is the moment to consider our proposal.’ said Rowley Buckram. ‘We appreciate that in normal circumstances your company would all vote on any major decision about their future, but in this case there are very few options for you that we would be prepared to consider.’

‘I find it hard to think of any that would be fair to everyone.’ sighed Jasper.

‘Having got to know your men a little during this last week,’ said Professor Paragon, ‘It appears to us that they fall mainly into two categories – those who would like to settle here in safety, and those who would still prefer a more nautical life.’

‘Well, many were seamen of one sort or another before they became pirates, even though they are all damned fine seamen now.’ said Jasper.

Exactly.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘And with the best will in the world if they all wanted to retire and live here that would be impractical. There would bound to be some resentment and conflict. And without more trading with the outside world there would be only limited employment available in Goldcaster itself. Although in High Summerdale perhaps something could be done – with sufficient investment…’

‘So a key question must be how many would want to settle?’ asked Rowley.

‘Hmm…’pondered Jasper. ‘What do you think Rathbone?’

‘Well, let’s be honest, there’s you and me for a start, then the lads who came with us to rescue Mr Buckram have all made it clear where they stand, and a few others who might be glad to come ashore – ten, maybe fifteen, I’d say.’

‘That’s about what we thought.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘But what about the others?’ sighed Jasper. ‘And the ship?’

‘Have you – er – been busy, shall we say, along the North American coast, in territory controlled by what used to be called the Thirteen Colonies and is now the new republic?’ asked Rowley.

‘No. Never that far north.’ said Jasper. ‘We have had business in Nassau and Grand Bahama some years ago, but have steered well clear of that part of the world during the recent conflict. Why do you ask?’

‘In case your vessel might be known in those quarters.’ said Rowley. ‘Let me explain. Some of the tea thrown into the sea during the Boston Tea Party belonged to me. Of course the good people had no malice towards me personally, but were protesting against unfair taxation. Trade is now being renewed between Great Britain and North America where I still have several friendly business contacts…’

‘Do you indeed?’ Jasper was beginning to smile.

‘I think you may suspect where this conversation is leading…?’

‘Possibly, possibly, but please proceed.’

‘How would it be if the Black Leopard were to be renamed, converted into a merchantman, and set to trade between Liverpool (where I have several agents) and Boston, New York, and Charleston?’

‘What goods would she carry?’

‘Tea, coffee, manufactured goods, clothing, cloth, weapons, tools and the like outwards, and principally furs, tobacco, and cotton back to England.’

‘Who would command her?’

‘You would be too much exposed to discovery we feel, so whilst she was being fitted out and for her first voyage, we thought perhaps Mr Rathbone with a First Officer selected by him and myself from applicants suggested by my Liverpool agents. If Mr Rathbone wishes to settle here after that trip, that First Officer could then become Master.’

‘She wouldn’t have a full complement if some men stayed ashore.’

‘But she is not going to be a fighting ship – just a merchantmen with a surprising defensive capacity despite a reduced armament. And anyway, besides the First Officer there would be several other specialists recruited at Liverpool.’

‘Suppose my men became tired of being employed and wanted to revert to villainy?’

‘But would they if they owned the business?’

‘Pardon? Surely you…’

‘No, no, no. I propose that you and I provide the funds necessary to fit out the vessel, obtain the first cargoes, and cover expenses of the first few voyages, our investment being repaid over a period of time. But the business would be run as a co-operative venture, just like a pirate commonwealth, with all the officers and crew sharing the profits. I know from my own experience that in that way their income would be greater than that of any but the most successful pirate.’

‘And knowledge of the excellent earnings each man would make from the venture should animate him in his duty.’ said the Professor. ‘It should be a happy ship, and a profitable one.’

‘It sounds ideal to me.’ said Jasper. ‘What do you think Rathbone?’

‘Well, there’s certainly been some blue skies thinking done here. Now the plug’s been pulled on our core customer portfolio this could be the ideal construct, as contextualised by Mr Buckram, a paradigm for growing a new client base by instigating a radical agenda for positive factor development, at the same time implementing a solution driven alternative career enhancement programme, harnessing change for growth rather than retrenchment, subject of course to a user needs analysis, satisfactory strategic management role determination, resource quantification, and a rate of stock turn assessment. And, particularly as we have been assured that the bottom line will be stakeholder dominated, yes, I say that we should greenlight the proposal, and look forward to implementing it as a dynamically innovative programme for long term profitability from shore to shining shore. I suggest that you, Sir J, formulate a mission statement, whilst Mr Buckram and I head up a focus group structured to bring the human resource ingredient on side.’

‘Have you been at my Adam Smith again?’ said Jasper.

‘No, no, Sir J.’ said Rathbone. ‘Not The Wealth of Nations. I’ve been reading a book Professor Paragon lent me – Marketing and Management by Objectives in a Globalised Economy – Cranbridge University Press, £12.99 in paperback.’

‘A rattling good read, no doubt. Remind me to send for a copy. I’m running low on jargon.’

At this point there was a knock on the dining room door.

‘Come in…’ called Professor Paragon, and Archibald looked round the door, smiling.

‘Your new Midshipman’s here Captain. We’ve kitted him out a bit…’

‘Well, best let him in then. Good afternoon, Mr Trundle. My word, you’re looking very smart.’

‘Good afternoon sir, thank you sir.’ said Tom, saluting. The crew had managed to contrive a small blue tricorne hat for him, and he wore a white shirt, a red sash, a cut down dark blue jacket (much gathered in at the back), his own best breeches brought from the farm, and his highly polished black Sunday shoes with the brass buckles.

‘What can we do for you Tom?’

‘Spud has brought your clothes and equipment over from the ship sir, and was wondering what books and writing materials you might also require, seeing as you may find much of interest in Uncle Rowley’s shop. And the Cook was asking if you had any preferences for your supper. Oh, and Aunt Esme’s arrived…’

‘Ah…’ smiled Professor Paragon. ‘Well, I think our discussions have gone far enough for the moment…’

‘And I must be getting back to the Town Hall…’ said Mr Bagley.

‘And I had best be seeing how the rest of the crew have been doing…’ said Rathbone

‘And I think perhaps you ought to have a rest now, Sir Jasper,’ said Rowley. ‘If you would like to make your way across to my home, I will just make sure that the rest of your party have all they want and settle up with the Inn keeper, then follow you over later.’

‘Then it will be about time we had that wound of yours looked at again.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘And I need to give some special nursing instructions to whoever is going to look after you. I’ve got one volunteer, that’s Elisabeth, and I think there might be another in the offing…’

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

A Long Time To Die: Fartlethwaite and the Death of Speke

On Tuesday morning the expedition members went their separate ways.

Will Nudd, with Hawser Trunnion, Twiga M’wizi, and the four other pirates who had been escorting Doctor Johnson and Boswell set off back to Summerdale with Rowley Buckram.

The Quinceyite Mission, now reinforced by the five Bashem brothers in their role as credible heavy duty auxiliary escorts, with Charnock and the four remaining outlaws under roped guard, headed for the small town of Fartlethwaite, some twelve miles further south. Here it was intended to hand over the prisoners to the local magistrate and bid farewell to Doctor Johnson and Boswell, who would there soon be likely to find a post chaise available to continue their journey.

‘You really ought to return to Summerdale with us.’ Rowley had said to Jasper, who had his arm in a sling strapped to his chest to minimise the movement of his injured shoulder. ‘Although you have the excellent care of Mistress Paragon you should travel as little as possible with that wound. It won’t mend being jolted about. Even if you came back to Goldcaster now it would be a further two or three days journey, depending on the weather.’

‘I appreciate your concern, Mr Buckram, but I shall not rest easy until I see our friends safely on their way. I lifted them out of their life and it is only right that I should put them back into it. And besides I am in very good hands. Mr Boswell has kindly allowed me the use of his steed, we shall rest in the town tonight, hopefully in one of those inns so approved of by Doctor Johnson, and return refreshed tomorrow. I can foresee no possible complications.’

‘I wish you hadn’t said that.’ muttered Aunt Hetty. ‘Never mind – we’d best get off.’

‘Now lads, ‘ said Jasper to Rowley’s escort. ‘Mr Nudd’s in charge, so do as he says, but you’re tough, and experienced, and very bright, so keep a sharp look out for danger, and help look after Mr Buckram. Everyone on this expedition is going to get a special bonus from my own funds if our new friends agree, and I’ve got high hopes for a brighter and more secure future for you all if we do our best. Good luck, and I’ll be back with you in a few days time.’

‘How are we doing Sir J.?’ asked Rathbone, a few miles down the track. ‘This hack’s not so sure footed as old Snowy, is he? You’re wincing a bit on this rough stretch.’

‘I’ll be alright, old friend. At least poor old Buckram will be getting an easy ride. I owe him that at least.’

‘It’s funny how things have turned out isn’t it? I’m well content to be at ease with these folk if they’ll have us. That is what we hope for now, isn’t it?’

‘If there had been any other intent you know I would not have considered it without your agreement. No, this is the right, the best, and the most pleasant way for us all, I hope. But until we turn back to Summerdale we are still proving ourselves.’

‘Well monitored though aren’t we? What with Mistress Paragon and the seagulls. Hello Fastnet. How near are we?’

‘Fartlethwaite only three miles now. Busy place – market day. Sir J looks a bit pale – time for a break is it?’

‘Right.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Take five – well fifteen, more like. Let’s look at that dressing… Mr Rathbone, get your missionaries tidied up and back into the Quinceyite mode – get a bit of practice for when we meet with real human beings. How can you hope to convert England with flapping vestments and guns holstered in every orifice? Oh, I don’t know – on reflection that might be a good approach if that was what we were really at.’

It was mid-afternoon by the time the church tower of the small town came into sight above the trees, and they soon found themselves the objects of considerable interest as they made their way through the broad main street where the weekly market was being held.

Boswell asked where the local Magistrate might be found, and they were directed to an ancient pillared and portico-ed Wool Hall in the centre of the market place near to a substantial and welcoming looking inn, The Fartledale Ram.

‘As we now appear far more aggressive than you Quinceyites,’ said Doctor Johnson to Jasper, ‘How would it be if our friends the Bashem family stood guard over these villains whilst Boswell and I explained matters adequately to the authorities? You and your mission could then repair to the inn and we will join you presently. This hostelry appears to be prosperous, and hopefully will be one with few bugs, good food, clean rooms, starched sheets, comfortable towels, and abundant hot water, where you can have rest and refreshment out of the sight of enquiring eyes.’

‘How welcome that would be!’ said Jasper gratefully. ‘Thank you Doctor. An admirable proposal.’

‘But hardly practical.’ snapped Aunt Hetty. ‘Those aren’t farmers’ mounts tethered outside the inn. Look at the harnesses – immaculate, with full trappings, and the young fellow in charge of them is no shepherd.’

‘Whoops!’ said Morry.

‘Oh, dear.’ sighed Jasper. ‘Another night with no bath. A cavalry troop if I’m not mistaken, and that lad’s wearing the uniform of a dragoon. We had best say farewell and stroll nonchalantly away.’

‘Too late.’ said Rathbone. ‘We’ve been spotted, and, yes, here comes trouble…’

An officer and a sergeant had just issued from the inn and the guard was pointing across to Jasper’s party. The sight of the Bashems and the five closely roped prisoners was obviously of interest, and the officer and sergeant strode through the market towards them.

‘Sir Jasper,’ said Doctor Johnson grimly. ‘Will you trust Boswell and I to deal with these gentlemen and take your cues from us?’

‘That would be most helpful Doctor. It would be far more appropriate for you to be in charge of matters rather than some peripatetic preacher. All suitably humble now, brothers and sister.’

The officer was not one of the foppish variety but brisk and efficient with a florid amiable countenance, and was very well turned out, all epaulettes, froggings, lanyards, sash, and sword. As he drew closer his eyes widened and he laughed.

‘Good gad! It’s Doctor Johnson, isn’t it? Damme sir, you’re a long way from London.’ He removed his hat and bowed. ‘Darcy Carstairs Russell, Captain, Seventeenth Light. Gentlemen, my service to you, and to you Madam also, of course…’ He bowed low to Aunt Hetty, who smiled almost modestly and curtsied back at him.

‘Allow me to introduce Mr James Boswell…’

‘Know of you, sir, know of you. Howdy do, howdy do. And this man of the cloth who appears injured….?’

‘Ah, a very brave man, if rather foolish and too innocent in the ways of villainy – the Reverend Mr de Quincey, together with his companions on their mission to save sinners in the north of England.’

The captain laughed. ‘Tough task eh? Had any luck? What, what?’

‘We knocked them bendy in Bridlington.’ said Rathbone.

‘Oh jolly well done – well it looks as though you’ve saved some sinners for me too, haven’t you? And, good God (beg pardon Reverend), is that the swine Charnock you’ve got there? We’ve been searching for him and his gang for the past month. They got free from a prison hulk when it dragged anchors and went aground in a gale. No wonder the Reverend’s been wounded. What happened?’

‘Mr Boswell and I have been visiting friends in Summerdale. Unbeknown to us one of the residents of Goldcaster had been taken hostage by these villains. Because Mr de Quincey had received such a warm reception in Summerdale he insisted that he wished to help and volunteered to take the ransom and secure the release of the gentleman, maintaining that no one would hurt him or his colleagues because of their clerical profession.

Mr Boswell and I had intended to return from our holiday at about that time anyway, and when we learnt of this brave but unwise undertaking we set off hotfoot a few hours behind his party with a very strong escort, and arrived just in time to prevent a major tragedy, surprising the gang in their camp.

The fight was short and sharp, and even though they had few guns, they fought viciously and our men had no choice but to kill eight of them. Our men sustained no major injury but, as you can see, Mr De Quincey was hit, but lord be praised has only received a wound to his shoulder.’

‘The majority of our party have returned to Summerdale with the hostage Mr Buckram,’ said Boswell. ‘Since we only had these five prisoners it was felt that they could be more than adequately controlled by our friends, the brothers of the Bashem family from High Summerdale who, as you perceive, inevitably inspire fear and terror in anyone who find themselves opposed to them…’

‘Damme, I’m not surprised!’ exclaimed the captain, nodding to the Bashems, who leered down at him with gap toothed grins. ‘There’ll be a reward for you fine fellows – first rate effort, what, what?’

The Bashems shook their heads.

‘Ner, ner.’ grunted Bill and Ben.

‘ ’im.’ said Bert, pointing to Jasper.

‘And them and ‘er.’ said Broderick and Bedivere, pointing to the rest of the Mission and at Aunt Hetty.

‘Bless you lads, but we would not wish for a pecuniary advantage.’ said Jasper. ‘Perhaps any reward could be paid to Mr Bagley, the Mayor of Goldcaster, who could apportion it amongst all those concerned?’

‘Capital idea.’ said the Captain. ‘I’ll see it’s sent by the next packet boat. Sergeant…’

‘Sah?’

‘Get the keys to the local lock up from the Constable and throw this lot inside. We shall need round the clock vigilance, and I mean heavy duty surveillance – you know Charnock’s reputation.’

‘I do indeed sir, and he’s about to find out mine. Never had a prisoner escape yet, sir. Some have died on me, agreed, but none have got away.’

‘Now, Mr de Quincey, you have been wounded, so I’m sure there will be a charge of attempted murder. We’ll need you to give evidence at the next Carlisle Assizes.’

‘Ah,’ said Jasper. ‘You know, I couldn’t agree to that. It happened in the heat of the battle. The weapon was probably aimed at one of the combatants rather than myself. We are but God’s foot soldiers, not men of war. And I could not, especially if under oath, accuse any particular individual of trying to do away with me. I found it all very confusing.’

‘I see. Take your point. Pity though, but I understand. Tell me more about your work – are you up here for long?’

‘We have to return to Summerdale. There is still much yet to do, and we are only half way through our mission there.’

‘Lot of sinning in Summerdale, eh? What, what?’

‘Well, er…’

‘Do excuse me gentlemen,’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘But Mr de Quincey, may we remind you – you did so wish to take the opportunity to address the good folk of this town if you felt able. The market has attracted many but the afternoon draws on and they will no doubt shortly disperse.’

‘But of course, I am neglecting my duties.’ nodded Jasper gratefully. ‘Captain Russell, do you think it would be in order for us to address a congregation from the portico of this Wool Hall?’

‘Gad, yes, I am sure it will Reverend. I shall tell the Mayor and Justice that you are under my protection and deserve every consideration.’

‘Thank you Captain. Sister Hepzibah, Brothers, let us assemble at the top of the steps of this so suitable edifice…

‘Shall we leave Mr De Quincey and his potential converts Captain Russell?’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘I am a little weary but feel Boswell and I should present our compliments to the local dignitaries. We would not wish to be recalled as but rude travellers, merely passing through. Let us go together – perhaps you would kindly introduce us?’

‘Damme Doctor, I’m forgetting me manners – of course, let us do that. And then I’ll find you a comfortable billet at the Inn. You know, the Reverend’s face is vaguely familiar, just can’t place it. But he reminds me of someone, possibly a portrait I’ve seen…’

‘Possibly, possibly – worthies of the cloth perhaps? We have known Mr de Quincey for some while, haven’t we Boswell? A man of singular talents.’

‘Oh, most singular indeed. Shall we go in? After you Captain…’

Seeing the prisoners taken away and the Dragoon Officer entering the Wool Hall with Doctor Johnson and Boswell, the curious crowd who had gathered started to disperse.

‘Why don’t we give ‘em a tune to get their attention back?’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘It just so happens I has me portable mini-harmonium with me.’ She extracted a folded instrument from one of her donkey’s panniers, and issued Archibald with a tambourine, Morry with a triangle, and Tembo with a bongo drum.

‘Are you sure about this?’ said Jasper, doubtfully.

‘Course I am. And besides, we’ve got to give them a hymn or two haven’t we?’

‘Do we have to?’ said Rathbone.

‘Of course we do – it’ll be expected. Right – give us an intro on the drum, Tembo, and I’ll start of with a few chords.’

The drum roll was fine and the crowd in the market place turned to see what was happening, but the sounds created by Aunt Hetty were hideous in the extreme, Fastnet and Rockall soaring desperately skywards to escape from it.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘We’ve got their attention now, haven’t we?. Nothing like a bit of music to attract people’

‘And that was nothing like a bit of music!’ protested Rathbone. ‘What did you call that instrument – a pandemonium?’

‘Sorry… Just warming up with a bit of Stockhausen. Right, here we go – let’s hear it from the tambourine, and give me some nice loud tinkles on your triangle Brother Dancer…

‘Come and join us, come and join us,

Gather round and hear the message of the Lord…’ Boom! boom!

‘Thank you Sister Hezibah, thank you brothers, and good afternoon to you all, good people of Fartlethwaite.’ said Jasper solemnly. ‘We come amongst you today to bring a new message, a message that can change all our lives for the better, if only we will listen. I am not here to remonstrate with you for your shortcomings, I am not here to urge you to deny yourselves innocent enjoyments, I am not here to preach hellfire and damnation…’

‘Pity, I likes a bit of hellfire and damnation.’

‘Yeah, livens things up a bit don’t it?’

‘What are you here to preach, then?’

‘(Patience my son, I’m in mid flow aren’t I?) I am here to ask you to rejoice at the glories of the world, to wonder at the beauties all around us, to give thanks for all that we are and all that we shall be blessed with, and, whilst we fume at the evils mankind is capable of, to urge you to so live that you all help each other, and to so laugh that goodwill and happiness increase and grow to the abounding benefit of your community, and to so love that your families, friends, and future offspring spread in their turn the message of hope and renewal from this day forth.’

‘Sounds good to me – I’ll have some of that.’

‘Pity the wife’s mother’s not ‘ere – that might shut her up for once.’

‘I still miss the hellfire and damnation.’

‘Alright, alright, we’ll have some of that in a minute.’ said Jasper, rather curtly, for his shoulder was starting to ache quite badly.

‘Can I do the hellfire and damnation bit?’ asked Rathbone.

‘Presently, presently. Now, where was I? Ah, yes… Brothers and sisters here today, I do not ask you to believe in the strength of this message merely because of my counsel, I do not ask you to take it without proof of its effectiveness, I do not expect without evidence the words of one moment to convince you of the truth that can change your whole lifetime…’

‘What do you expect then?’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ snapped Jasper. ‘Sorry, sorry… Er, yes – we Quinceyites have all been sinners, if only perhaps in minor ways…’ (‘Oh yeah?’ muttered Aunt Hetty) ‘…Indeed we have. But we have come to the way of the Lord, each and every one of us, and our lives have been enriched by the experiences of redemption, so I shall now call upon each member of the Mission to give us, albeit briefly, their words of encouragement.’ He clasped his bible to his chest and smiled sweetly on Aunt Hetty. ‘Perhaps, Sister Hepzibah, you would be so kind?’

‘Will I? (I’ll have you for this…) Alright, then – Habanagila!’

‘Pardon?’

‘Sorry – Hallelujah! Listen up you lot, to the words of a wise woman. I too have been a sinner – no, no, it’s hard to believe, but I have. I have said unkind things, I have thought unkind thoughts, (quite recently, too), and, wait for it – I have even told the occasional uncalled for little fib…’ (Gasps of shock and horror from the crowd.) ‘Oh, yes, and I have done such things in my previous existence as would amaze and terrify the hardest one amongst you.’ (Oo-er – what you done then?) ‘I’m sorry, good people, but I cannot speak of those things for I am now redeemed, and devote my life to attending to others (not too gently either, if they’re not careful…)’

‘Thank you Sister Hepzibah. Brother Dancer – can we hear from you please?’

‘Oh, well, if you must. But where does one start? I mean to say – I’ve been such a tinker, haven’t I? I’ve got up to all sorts of naughties, me… I remember when I and Hooky Wacker met this Hussar – (there was something about that soldier, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, more’s the pity) – anyway, the thing is, in those days I was anybody’s for doughnut, nobody ever did me no favours, dreadful it was…’

‘Get on with it!’

‘Ooh, vada you, you cheeky cleric. Oh, alright then… I WAS CONVERTED! Yes, I was – the Mission!, the Message!, it was a whole new way of life for me – Oh YES! I was strangely drawn, and overcome I was, yes… And yes, I gave myself up to it, believe me, I did… And oh, the tears, the trauma,! – it would tug at your heartstrings, it really would… And now I’m changed – Changed I tell you! … CHANGED!’’

‘Yes, yes, thank you Brother Dancer..’

‘I was just getting going then…’

‘So we noticed, but we don’t want you to have one of your turns, do we? Brother Archibald?’

‘What, me?’

‘Please.’

‘Oh, alright. Here goes then – “I’ve been a sinner, I’ve been a scamp – but now I’m willing to trim my lamp.” ’

‘Is that it?’

‘What’s wrong with it? My mum taught me that.’

‘Oh well, it’ll have to do I suppose. Brother Tembo, would you like to say something – appropriate preferably?’

‘Sho nuff Massah! Alleluja, how yo hangin’ everybody? Yeah, right on. Now, ah was a slave, and then ah was saved, and then ah was a sinner big time. Yea sayeth de Lord, yo am one bad-ass Tembo. And he was right. Ah was robbin, an lovin, and smokin de Camberwell ceegar, and den got saved again wid de De Quincey massiv innit? Now ah am one cool contented dude, yeah, so go for it, right? Big Love, Peace… Yeah?’

‘Er, thank you Brother Tembo. I’m sure they got the gist of that. Brother Clarence?’

‘Mutter, mutter, cough, cough, rasp, rasp, mutter, mutter…’ responded Clarence.

‘What?’

‘Los……ma…..voi……’ pleaded Clarence. ‘Too….much….stress….’ he managed.

‘Oh? Dear me, how convenient, and what a disappointment. It appears that Brother Clarence is suffering from psychosomatic laryngitis.’

‘Then can I do the hellfire and damnation bit now?’ asked Rathbone.

‘Oh, very well. But don’t make a meal of it.’

‘Goody, goody,’ said Rathbone eagerly, rubbing his hands together, and then spreading his arms wide apart. ‘Brethren!’’ he thundered. ‘You have heard the message of LURVE!… And it is a good message, yea verily, and it is a fine message in the sight of the Lord, and it is a strong message, and it pleaseth the Lord. But hark unto these words and let them be etched in your hearts – what if you do not heed the message? What if you allow yourselves to be drawn aside by Satan from the paths of righteousness?

We Quinceyites are safe from sin for we have the infinite care, patience, and wisdom of our beloved leader here to raise us up from the depths of temptation. But ye who are without the Quinceys must be forever vigilant lest you should transgress and fall back into sinful ways.

For what is to become of you when the last trump finally sounds, when the righteous are called forth and sitteth in glory in the golden vault of heaven, and when those that hath not repenteth are thrust out and cast down, yea cast even unto the deepest depths of the pits of hell?

I will tell you how it will be, brethren. There shall be the shedding of streams, nay rivers, nay oceans of tears, there shall be a such a wailing and a gnashing of teeth…’

‘My dad ain’t got no teeth, come to that neither’s me mum.’

‘Teeth will be provided! Don’t interrupt… Anyway, that’s about it. Have you got the message? Love one another now or it’ll be eyes down for eternal torment! So just remember when you’re low, all you need is L.O.V.E – LURVE… So give me an L…’ ‘ELL!’ ‘Give me an O…’ ‘OHH!’ ‘Give me a V…’ ‘VEE!’ Give me an E…’ ‘EEE!’ That’s it good people. Sister Hepzibah, take it away please – and all together Quinceyites…’

 

‘All you need is LOVE…boomty-boomty-boom,

All you need is LOVE…Boomty-boomty-boom,

All you need is love, love,

Love is all you need…’

Even Fastnet and Rockall, now back perched on the eaves of the Wool Hall, were waving their wings in time with the music.

‘Wonderful!’ cried Aunt Hetty. ‘Now everybody – let’s hear from all of you. After me… We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah…’

 

‘We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah,

We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah,

We love you, yeah, yeah, yeah…

YEAH! ! !’

‘Good God!’ said Jasper, when the cheering had died away, ‘Where did all that come from?’

‘I dunno.’ said Rathbone, rather flushed and bemused.

‘I do.’ said Aunt Hetty, smugly. ‘Maybe one day I’ll tell you. But it went down well, didn’t it?’

It certainly had. Besides the crowd, on the balcony of the Inn an enthusiastic group was clapping loudly and calling ‘Bravo!’ With Doctor Johnson and Boswell, there were Captain Russell and several self important dignitaries including the Mayor. The only one who looked a little woebegone was the local Vicar.

‘No criticism,’ said Jasper to Rathbone, ‘ But what got into you?’

‘I don’t know. Mistress Paragon was staring at me and nodding her head, muttering away and waving her hands about.’

‘I see. I was a bit concerned with the prospect of having to improvise a sudden sermon.’ said Jasper to Aunt Hetty. ‘But you weren’t worried at all, were you?’

‘Not after we arrived at this Wool Hall.’

‘Ah – goes back a bit does it? A bit special for your profession?’

‘You catch on pretty quick now, don’t you? Yes, the building itself is only two or three hundred years old, but it’s on a bit of a mound, isn’t it? And I was getting some good vibes from the foundations, ancient, they are. This place has been a meeting place and probably more for thousands of years – it’s on the same ley line that passes through Summerdale, just what I needed to charge up me ‘fluence.’ Leading Seaman Dancer was almost taking off. Where’s he got to?’

‘Don’t fret, chuck – I’m over here.’ called Morry, making his way back to them through the crowd and waving a bucket. ‘Seeing we went over so well I thought howsabout taking up a collection? That sort of thing’s expected, isn’t it?’

‘Any luck?’

‘Pretty good really – twenty eight shillings and ninepence farthing, two brass buttons, an Isle of Man groat, and an voucher for a round of drinks from the potman at the inn. We ought to come here more often.’

‘Sadly, I think not Brother Dancer.’ said Jasper. ‘Ah, Doctor Johnson, Mr Boswell – we’d better be leaving now, whilst our luck still holds.’

‘No, no, Mr de Quincey ’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘The weather is changing, it has become colder and is growing misty. Rain is likely I think, and you must rest. All has been arranged. Even though the Inn is almost full a quiet room has been arranged for you where you will not be disturbed. We have rather enlarged on the nature of your infirmity and so adjoining you will be Sister Paragon to nurse you and to keep any awkward enquirers at bay.’

‘What about my men and the Bashem brothers?’

‘The Inn keeper is also an important farmer and behind the Inn is a very large barn, with many bales of wool, hay, and straw. Boswell has arranged for the others to all be provided with blankets and made very cosy there. They will have the use of all the Inn’s conveniences but will not have to keep company with any dragoons or curious locals, so there should be little risk. The Inn keeper will ensure that everybody has more than sufficient food and drink, Captain Russell has explained that you have all had an arduous and exhausting time and that he wants you all to have an undisturbed rest, and he has insisted on defraying all expenses.

‘What about yourselves?’

‘Boswell and I have been offered lodgings with the Mayor. This will give us an admirable opportunity to reinforce the understanding every one is being given about your innocent occupation, and the natural circumstances of our presence in these parts.’

‘I must confess I shall be very glad to rest a while and cannot thank you both enough for taking charge of matters here so efficiently.’

‘Nonsense, it was the logical role for us to play. Now I suggest that Madam Paragon and I see you to your room, and that you dine as soon as possible and retire early. We will be sure to see you off safely in the morning, preferably after a hearty breakfast so we can talk further then.’

‘Mr Rathbone,’ said Boswell, ‘May I offer my congratulations on your exhortation? Come and let me introduce you to the Inn keeper, and then we can lodge everybody as comfortable as maybe in the barn.’

Within the hour Jasper had been fed, had his wound dressed, and was drifting off to sleep, with Aunt Hetty sitting in a rocking chair beside him, thumbing through an early but already dog eared copy of Wainwright’s guide to the Northern Fells. The Quinceyites and the Bashems were enjoying a hearty feast, the Bashem brothers very considerately sharing their frequently topped up ale with the poor temporary tee-total Quinceyites, and the Quinceyites were looking forward to a profitable evening teaching the Bashems the joys of gin rummy, black jack, and five card brag.

Somewhat further north Luther Speke had already set out on his own mission…

* * *

Luther Speke believed that he had thought of everything.

A barrow had been quite openly and reasonably taken to the forge with tools and material to mend the roof. If the treasure chest could be dug up from beside the Tingle Stone it could now be wheeled back to the harbour in the dark to be loaded on to the longboat. Their own sea chests, together with carefully concealed sails, now covered with casually thrown tarpaulins and various bits of tackle, had already been stowed under the thwarts of the barrow when the last of the stolen booty had been brought ashore.

It helped that surveillance in Goldcaster appeared now to have been virtually suspended as far as himself and his two henchmen were concerned, presumably because he was more than honouring his commitments.

The plan this time was to head straight out to sea under cover of darkness and then sail for Ireland and Belfast. There one small boat would hardly be noticed amongst so many others. Fishing and trading vessels of all shapes and sizes were forever busy about the many settlements nearby, and others were entering or leaving the harbour at all hours. Once ashore Speke would become a retired merchant who, with his two servants, would take secure lodgings where they could prepare for the next stage of their prosperous future…

The weather had changed during the day, and although the clouds had momentarily cleared, what with an on shore breeze bringing in a sea mist during the morning and the occasional shower of drizzle in the afternoon, it had been a soggy day in Goldcaster town.

Now Speke was striding along in the darkening evening, the high collar of his long black leather coat turned well up and in his action mode, committed and determined, with no more wondering or plotting or persuading to be done, lips no longer twitching, wart no longer picked at, fingers still and eyes blazing with eagerness at the profitable prospect before him.

Steelclaw and Blackheart were taking turns to push the barrow which now also held shovels, picks, and a crowbar. With their sacking covered shoulders hunched, they complained about the weather.

‘This suits us fine, you fools. It’s more likely to keep the peasants indoors.’

By now, with the ever present seagulls discretely circling above, they were making their way up the track that lead through the trees towards the low hill surmounted by the Dancing Sisters stone circle and the target Tingle Stone.

Suddenly it became very still in the wood.

The late September air ceased to even stir the long grasses on either side of the track. The background of birdsong died away. Tendrils of mist hung motionless. The watery sun sank lower. Trees dripped.

The stillness was broken by the sharp clamour of a jay, defiantly strident as it chattered away through the trees. His two companions shivered but Luther Speke seemed oblivious to the subtle change in the atmosphere.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ he snarled.

‘Bit creepy ain’t it?’ sniffed Steelclaw.

‘I’d as soon not be up here after dark.’ said Blackheart.

‘You both do as you’re damn well told if you want your share. And keep a sharp lookout. Kill anyone sniffing round – we want no witnesses.’

‘We know, we know…’

‘All pistols primed?’

‘All primed in case, Mr Speke.’

The Quartermaster himself was armed with his special Griffin breach loading carbine with one cartridge already loaded and ten more in his belt.

They continued along the track.. The unusual stillness was vaguely disconcerting. There was a marked chill in the air and despite himself Speke shivered. Insensitive as he was normally, it was somehow disturbing for them to be alone in this eery place.

But not quite alone…

Through the thickening mist they saw something separate itself from the darkness of the trees and cross swiftly over the track a short way ahead.

‘A bloody snooper…’ hissed Speke. ‘Get him!’

They started to run forward but the track was becoming uneven and they slipped and lurched on the patches of clayey earth in the ruts and between the tussocks of grass. Speke began to sweat, and was soon panting with frustration and the unaccustomed effort.

They reached the point where he judged that the intruder had crossed. Here there was the wide ride on the right that lead up from the track to the crest of the hill and the stone circle.

Pausing here, at first they could see no one. No furtive prowler, nobody scurrying away, no other occupant to share the ever darkening twilight.

But then a brief gold glow illuminated the sky above the hill, a final weak glimmer from the watery setting sun. It was enough to distinguish a tall dark figure, not furtive at all, but striding purposefully up to the top of the crest and then turning, slowly, to look silently down the ride towards them.

‘Heh! – You…’

Speke’s voice sounded dull and strangely flat, as though muffled by the mist.

For a long moment the tall figure just stood there, looking at them, his features unclear, silhouetted against the dying light, as though savouring the situation.

They were now, if anything, even further apart from their quarry, but he was still within the range of the Quartermaster’s carbine. Speke tried to raise the gun but a kind of dreadful lethargy seemed to fall upon him. His arms felt weak and heavy, the simple effort assuming the dimensions of a major task, and it was as though time was almost hanging still, each second passing with icy slowness.

He stood transfixed, and could only watch with growing apprehension as the stranger slowly raised his arms and put on some sort of head dress. Multi-horned and horrible it appeared to Luther, even at that distance.

The arms were then stretched out to their fullest extent either side of the body. The fingers were spread wide and the head then laid back, as though the creature, gazing up at the darkening sky, was receiving some sort of blessing, some special strength…

There was a moment of utter stillness in which even the tendrils of mist seemed frozen. Then the horned figure looked down the ride at them again, and those outstretched arms were brought slowly and deliberately downwards, inwards, and forwards, in a ritual gesture, as though to scoop up the air from the ground beneath its feet and deliver it down into the wood.

Two, three, four times, this was done, and then the creature was still again, the head bowed, as though patiently waiting.

To their horror the scene before the three men began to blur, at first just at the edges of their field of view but then right across their vision, with a kind of rhythmic oscillation that grew to an almost unbearable level before it gradually died away.

There was a pause.

Steelclaw and Blackheart turned and ran, stumbling and tripping, but managing rather well in the circumstances, now totally determined to escape into the open countryside, to abandon their master, whatever the outcome, and to get away, as far away as possible, from the menacing terror welling up behind them.

Speke tried to yell at them but his throat felt dry and choked and no words came.

Then, faintly in the distance could be heard the sound of Goldcaster’s greatest bell as it chimed the hour of eight.

Now, to Speke’s mounting dread, the ride started to ripple. Grass, plants, shrubs, the very ground itself, undulated and heaved in a series of shallow waves originating from where the figure stood, each wave coming further and further forward, until there was a pulsing path of menace flowing from the crest of the hill inexorably down to the foot of the ride.

As this drew closer and closer the area it covered became clearer than the thickening darkness all around, and at first, to his horror, all colours were leached from the scene, everything before him only visible in streaks of black and shades of grey and leprous white. But then colour returned. Every conceivable colour, at first surging and whirling and mixing in rhythmic rainbows, but then melting away as green began to dominate, viridescent green, glowing obscenely bright with a kind of terrible beauty, and then came all the shades of green to match the texture of every ingredient of the view before him.

And preceding the colour came something else, something dreadful, like a buffer zone of impacted air, malevolent and heavy with menace as it passed over the ground, rustling as it came, and sending terror into Luther’s heart.

He cried out, and turned to escape, desperately lurching and stumbling along the track, a track that now seemed like a sodden sponge, sucking and clutching at his feet.

Ten, fifty, a hundred yards he staggered, panting, looking over his shoulder and sobbing with despair as he saw the menace spill out from the ride like an evil stream, swirling and washing against the trees before the flow steadied and it set off again, surging relentlessly now along the track behind him.

He reeled onwards, even praying out loud, and for a while it seemed as though his prayers were answered. It wasn’t gaining on him. He was holding his own – perhaps he could even outrun it…?

Then his heart almost stopped.

Ahead of him, gushing down the hill through another gap in the trees, a further ghastly cascade of green havoc had hit the track and had turned back in his direction. He twisted around. Now the original abomination was gaining on him. He was trapped.

Or was he? Perhaps this hideous thing ran only in the open? He turned to the trees. On his left at this point the wood was not very wide. If he could just get through to the field beyond, and to the lower ground, and to the road that ran between Goldcaster and the water mill… That way, perhaps, lay safety?

He leapt clumsily over the ditch at the edge of the track, grasping at the undergrowth in front of him. And dropping his gun.

His palms wet with panic, but managing to hold on to a branch with his left hand, he groped with the other in the long wet grass. His right hand closed on to the barrel and he snatched up the gun, but as he did so and straightened up, the stock struck the craggy side of a rock half hidden in the bracken and the briars. His slipping fingers slid up the gun and on to the trigger…

The sound of the shot thumped across the track.

The gun had been pointing downwards as he had fired it. The shot ripped down his leg, tearing open cloth, sending the bullet deep through the skin, splitting leather, bursting open his boot, driving through gristle and cartilage, and splattering blood and flesh and splinters of bone across the ditch.

Before the pain came he was still, leaning back, gazing with disbelief at blood welling out of the white flesh of his leg and the mangled remains of what had been his foot.

He raised his eyes to the track.

Both streams of the hideous horror were now almost upon him. The ground was writhing as the ripples rolled over the edge of the ditch and reached him at last. And as the terror hit so did the pain. Screaming in agony and looking down he felt the loathsome waves lapping on to him and saw his bare and bloodied skin actually rippling as the invisible foulness crawled slowly up his leg.

Almost deranged now, he turned and flung himself away from the ditch, clawing his way forward, clutching at tree trunks, trying to pull himself upright, but failing, and falling into the dense scrub.

Years of neglect had rendered the undergrowth here almost impassable. Maimed as he was, he could barely crawl, and struggled helplessly to break through the thicket of saplings and matted briars, retching at the rank smell as he disturbed the decay beneath him, at first impervious to the needle pricks of the brambles, lost in the greater pain and then in the awful fear as a dreadful lime-green light finally flowed right over him.

All around the vegetation began to glow and seemed to swell and fill with obscene life, suckers starting out of the ground, tendrils looping and twisting, the briars clutching and scratching at his body, their thickening snakes of thorn wreathing him in coils and tightening their grisly grip.

Now something was curling around his neck…

His whole body shuddered as he tried to jerk his head free, but that very action brought the great barbs cutting into his skin, ripping open the flesh of his throat. He fell back, twitching, choking, and then lay still at last with the bright red blood slowly pumping and oozing from his wounds.

Luther Speke took a long time to die. There was still the faintest flicker of life in his eyes when the dawn came.

But with the morning came the crows…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

The ‘Mission’ sets off

Early on Saturday morning, a bright if somewhat hazy autumnal day, Doctor Johnson and James Boswell bid their farewells to the friends they had found in Summerdale.

‘I may be denied the advantages of a formal education,’ said Elisabeth, ‘But this last week has convinced me that the experience of a full life can be perhaps an even greater advantage if one aspires to be a writer. I may even become a reasonable novelist if I apply myself diligently enough.’

‘I am delighted to hear that, my dear. Work at the craft and send me early samples of your work, fragments and ideas, in however draft a form.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘And if you wish, I shall send you my thoughts and my advice. I shall also ask my friend, Miss Burney, to give you the benefits of her experience and her suggestions. And what are you going to do, Tom?’

‘I don’t know about the future, sir, but today, now all is well again, I feel like celebrating, even though I am a little sad that you are leaving us.’

‘And how shall you celebrate, Tom – I see your sister frowning!’

‘I think I shall roll down Church Hill, sir. No one will mind me doing that.’

‘I should think not, indeed. One of the great pleasures in my life has been to roll innocently down hills with boisterous young companions. Will you permit me to join you Master Trundle?’

‘Why, with great pleasure, sir.’

‘Take care I do not roll upon you – I might squash you flat!’

‘Fear not sir, I shall twist out of your way, and if you go astray be sure I shall steer you straight.’

(‘Is this not rather unwise for Doctor Johnson?’ whispered Mr Bagley.

‘I think not.’ said Boswell. ‘He knows his limitations and this is not one of them!’)

‘I will not race you up to the top, Tom,’ said Doctor Johnson, ‘But I shall race you rolling to the bottom.’

‘I believe you will beat me, sir, for with more to roll with you may go faster.’

‘Why, you impudent young dog!’ laughed Doctor Johnson.

‘Do be careful Doctor…’ said Elisabeth.

‘I’ll look after him.’ said Tom, and off they went.

Jasper now emerged from the Town Hall to lead the expedition.

He had a bible under his arm, and was clad in a long black Geneva coat, with a high clerical collar around his neck from which hung wide white strips, and with a black broad brimmed flat shovel hat on his head. There was no sign of the red wig, and his moustache now drooped in a suitably solemn manner. He bowed to Aunt Hetty, who came across the square from the Inn.

‘Ah, Sister Hepzibah.’

‘Well, here I am. And I don’t pretend to like it – all got up like a superannuated nun.’

‘I particularly like the wimple and the lappets.’

‘It’s the closest I could get to a pointy hat. And I’m not wearing sandals for no one.’

‘Of course not. Those boots look fine to me. They could be part of a penance, perhaps.’

Then five members of the crew appeared, shuffling self-consciously forward, some running their fingers around the inside of their rather stiff collars and all looking rather embarrassed.

‘Good God!’ said Aunt Hetty.

‘So we understand.’ said Jasper. ‘Despite the evidence to the contrary.’

‘What are we supposed to be?’ asked Aunt Hetty. ‘Baptists?, Anabaptists?, Latitudinarians?’

‘No, no…’

‘Covenanters?, Congregationalists?, Presbyterians?, Episcopalians?, Quakers?’ I give up.’

‘Well, following my make-over, allow me to re-introduce myself. I chose my second name as almost the perfect brand fit, so am now the Reverend Mr De Quincey, and we are consequently the Quinceyites.’

‘What do you believe in?’

‘Tomorrow – who knows?, but today we certainly don’t believe in making people’s lives worse by giving them needless fears, worries and burdens in order to control them.’

‘Different to most religions then?’

‘Just a little. We do however believe in helping, smoothing the way, and spreading contentment.’

‘No change there then.’

‘And I do so hope to limit the sarcasm as much as possible…’

‘Sorry. Where did you get all this gear?’

‘Some of it belongs to the choir and the Mayor in his capacity as Churchwarden, but most of it we found in the Vicarage which has had a rather sombre series of incumbents for many years past.’

‘What’s my role going to be?’

‘I thought the feminine touch – bringing sweetness and light, and grace and compassion to our outlaw brethren in the forest who are so in need of forgiveness.’

‘You must be confusing me with someone who gives a toss.’

‘Ah, woe is me. We’ll just have to thrash them then as part of our mission to bring redemption through submission.’

‘You are really enjoying this, aren’t you?’

‘I believe in being as thorough as possible in all I undertake.’ replied Jasper, a trifle smugly. ‘Allow me to introduce my acolytes, all crack shots, I assure you. Despite their names we are not real Puritans – we none of us have that all consuming fear that somewhere, someone, somehow, is in danger of being happy… This is Deacon Strike-them-hip-and-thigh Rathbone.’

‘Mornin’ Ma’am.’ smiled Rathbone. ‘You look, er – impressive…’

‘And this is Brother Beware-for-tribulations-cometh-upon-thee Archibald.’

‘Hello Miss. Sorry about yesterday – being rude to you, and that…’

‘I’m sure you are, Archy lad.’

‘And here we have Brother Woe-unto-sinners-who-repenteth-not Clarence.’

‘Do you believe in a god Clarence?’

‘How could I Ma’am? I come from Hackney. Anyway I think that Sid Arthur got it right.’

‘Sid who?’

‘Sid Arthur – you know, that Buddha bloke. He reckoned that it depends on how good you’ve been in this life as to how you get on in the next. Well, I’ve been very good at piracy so live in high hopes for when I die.’

‘I don’t think it works quite like that.’ said Jasper. ‘But you’re on the right lines. And you remember Tembo? I think he’s a Rastafarian Quinceyite.’

‘Halleluia Ma’am. We noh reach Mount Zion yet, but we am mekkin all de right moves.’

‘Where’s your friend Twiga?’

‘He wid de escort party for Doctor J, Ma’am.’

‘And this of course is Brother Maurice Bend-down-for-the-Lord-and-be grateful Dancer.’

‘Well, hello Missis. May I call you Sister?’

‘I suppose so, but don’t push your luck.’

‘What do you think of my canonicals?’

‘Yes, very fetching, but hardly low church, are they? Not with the pink tippets.’

‘Oh, dear me – everyone’s a critic these days.’

‘And I think the flares are a bit over the top as well…’

‘Well it was either them or gaiters, and I just do not do gaiters – they are so last season.’

‘So, here we have our congregation.’ smiled Jasper. ‘All of them devout nutters, I promise you.’

‘ “Sure, isn’t it grand to be a priest, Ted?” ‘squawked Tantamount. ‘Pleeeese…’

‘I’m sorry Sir Tantamount.’ said Jasper. ‘But we’ve been through it thoroughly, haven’t we? And you agreed – it would just not look right for us to have such a colourful, intelligent and unusual creature as yourself on a Mission like this. You would just excite curiosity and doubt and quite likely imperil our plans. You’ll be with Tom and Elisabeth and I need you to keep an eye on Mr Speke as well.’

‘So there’s only six of you…’ said Aunt Hetty, doubtfully. ‘You’ll be well outnumbered if what Mr Boon said was correct.’

‘That is deliberate.’ said Jasper. ‘They will feel far more at ease when faced with such a small and apparently harmless party which can be captured without resistance. By the time we have reluctantly unloaded our apparent provisions of food and ardent spirits and started to pay out the ransom (which is dispersed amongst several panniers), they should be well off their guard, with some possibly already at a disadvantage, maybe with a leg of chicken in one hand and a jug of rum in the other.’

‘And that’s when we take ‘em.’ said Rathbone.

‘Exactly.’ said Jasper. ‘And, of course, we have the huge advantage of your company and skills in case something unforeseen happens, together with Fastnet and some of his seagull cousins to ensure excellent communications, and the very strong escort for Doctor Johnson and Mr Boswell following behind out of sight.’

‘But suppose they are so desperate that they just leap out as soon as they see you and attack without warning?’ said Aunt Hetty, still rather worried. ‘I’d better have a quick fix ready in case – a sudden swarm of bees or blinding flashes of light, or something similar… Bit of a problem if you’re all fighting – to pick ‘em out without hurting you.. There’ll be no time for preparations for anything major. The power works best when linked to a location you remember…’

‘I do understand.’ nodded Jasper. ‘But we are unlikely to be surprised, even if they are so well hidden that the seagulls don’t see them. We shall be well in front of the pack horses and you on your donkey, and will be walking on our 2-2-2 foraging formation, which is our ‘Naïve innocent visitors admiring the scenery whilst wandering along picturesque pathway’ mode. Close together Rathbone and I will take point, two yards behind and slightly wider apart Morry will be left half and Clarence right half, and a further two yards back Tembo will be on the left wing and Archibald on the right. Each of us will have two primed pistols concealed under our coats, some double barrelled, and all will have clear shots at the nearest of any deranged buffoons who leap out from whatever side and actually looks like seeking to do us damage there and then.’

‘I am impressed, Mr de Quincey.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Such military competence in a man of the cloth.’

Jasper smiled, and then bid goodbye to the others now gathered at the Town Hall to see the expedition off. He shook hands with Professor Paragon, Mr Bagley, Barney, and Umbrage, kissed the hands of Esme Trundle and Elisabeth, and then crouched down to talk to Tom (who had actually beaten Doctor Johnson down the hill by half a yard by twisting round at the last moment and sticking out his legs).

‘Tantamount’s in your care again, young man. Don’t give him too many sweets – they make his feathers fall out.’

‘He hasn’t got many to lose.’

‘Exactly. And we don’t want him catching a cold, do we?

‘You will come back, won’t you sir?’

‘You can be sure I shall do my very best to do so Tom.’ replied Jasper. ‘Not just because I’ve promised you all my service in this matter, but also because I feel there could be much at stake for me, here in Summerdale.’ He glanced quickly at Esme Trundle, and then turned to the crowd of townsfolk and crew members who were being left behind. ‘Do your best for these people, men. Remember, you are lucky to be still alive. I know you won’t let me down. Particularly since I shall return within the week and expect to see major progress in the repairing and renovating of Goldcaster and I would really hate to be disappointed. And you know how unreasonable I can become when that happens…’ He raised his hat to everyone and they gave him a rousing cheer.

The Quartermaster, saluted, and ground his teeth together as he watched the expedition leave.

* * *

By the time Sunday morning dawned Luther Speke was beginning to feel rather exhausted. Not only had he been driving his men and himself as hard as possible with their tasks in order to ingratiate himself with his captors, even working partly through the preceding night, but the need to ensure the summoning of what he thought was a warm and friendly smile whenever any resident of Summerdale crossed his path was wearing out his face muscles. He had not yet realised that this was what was causing everyone to twitch and shy away from him whenever he appeared, and attributed their behaviour to fear and respect.

His mental torment was also intolerable. He had been racking his brain trying to work out where the Captain’s chest might have been concealed, and surreptitiously searching for a clue to its whereabouts without any success whatsoever so far. All he knew for certain was that the Professor, his aunt the so-called witch, the Mayor, the dwarf, and that Barney Trim person, had all been nowhere to be found in the middle of the night. Trying to keep track of them had been one of the reasons he had worked into the small hours. And much good had it done him.

And this magic business was really a great worry. Hardly what one would want to have lurking in the background when searching for a treasure chest, stealing it, and getting out and clear away as soon and as fast as possible.

And just what was this Paragon creature really capable of? Speke had seen the colours when the bells had been rung and had suffered from the storm, but different members of the crew who had experienced other effects first hand had all sorts of conflicting ideas about the extent of this power and what it could achieve.

‘Anyone about?’ he whispered from inside one of the Town Hall cellars, halfway through Sunday morning.

‘Nope.’ said Blackheart who was sitting on the passage floor having his elevenses, exhausted, and morosely drinking a mug of very sweet tepid tea, with not a trace of rum in it.

‘Sod all down ‘ere.’ agreed Steelclaw, examining the contents of what he had hoped would be a decent bacon sandwich but which had turned out to be some sort of triangular cucumber concoction with trimmed crusts. And no salt. ‘Bloody Cook gone on strike, has he?’

‘He’s got the shakes and can’t get off the floor.’ said Blackheart. ‘They haven’t allowed him any rum since Friday night and that Tupman woman’s in charge of our grub today. She hates pirates.’

‘Never mind that.’ said Speke. ‘We’ve got to get out of here before Scabbard gets back. He knows which side his bread is buttered and I believe he’s going over to them to save his skin. Know what that means? Those who don’t suck up to him, and certainly we three, will be right out on our ears – either strung up here or handed over for trial. So we’ve got to escape. And if we go I don’t intend to go empty handed. His chest is here somewhere and we’ve got to find it. So you’ve got a choice – stay here and die – probably painfully, or help me get the treasure again, have it away, and live like lords for the rest of your lives. What’s it to be?’

‘Not dying.’ they both said together.

‘How do we find out where the chest is?’ asked Steelclaw.

‘The Mayor knows.’ said Blackheart. ‘Let’s torture ‘im.’

‘It may come to that but we’d have to kill him afterwards.’ said Speke. ‘And if he disappeared all hell would break loose. They’d be watching the hiding place like hawks and probably suspect us anyway and torture us. No, it may take a day or two longer but I favour getting into their good books, getting that Barney bloke or the dwarf drunk, and teasing it out of them.’

‘Why them?’

‘They went missing with the others last night. I reckon they helped hide it.’

‘But getting the treasure and getting away – who’s to say that this Professor feller won’t use his magic to stop us?’

‘That could be a problem.’ agreed Speke. ‘I wish I knew how he works it.’

‘It’s all to do with them bells, innit?’ said Blackheart. ‘They say he can only do the business when they ring…’

‘Well the bloody things are ringing all the time, aren’t they?’ said Steelclaw.

‘No they aren’t.’ said Speke, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together. ‘I do believe that for once Blackheart, you’ve said something sensible. There’s one rings at sunrise, another at sunset, others peal for the quarter and half hours on Sundays, but only the largest strikes on every hour. If you’re right that means that generally most of the time his powers are probably limited.’

‘What about the birds?’ said Steelclaw. ‘They say he talks to them.’

‘They are saying all sorts of stupid things.’ snapped Speke. ‘What does it matter? Let him chatter to the blasted birds – he can talk to the trees for all I care, as long as he doesn’t talk to me too much.’

‘We’ve still got to find the chest. I don’t like having to rely on getting those two drunk – they still might not tell us. We could certainly do with a bit of luck right now.’ said Blackheart.

‘I don’t believe in luck.’ snarled Speke. ‘I make me own.’ He raised his finger to his lips. ‘What’s that?’ he whispered. ‘Be quiet – there’s someone at the top of the stairs…’

Keeping to the shadows he edged his way silently along the passage. Near the bottom of the stairs he could clearly hear voices coming from the floor above.

‘I still wonder if it will be safe up there?’ said Barney Trim. ‘Things get quite rowdy once they get going.’

‘But it won’t be the real thing, will it?’ said Umbrage. ‘Friday midnight was the peak of the Equinox, so they’ve missed the proper ceremony. By the time they’ve got everything ready it will just be a celebration.’

‘Yes, you’re right. And anyway, nobody will go near the Tingle Stone. They’ve far too much respect for something so sacred…’

Their conversation continued about other matters, so Speke tiptoed back along the passage to his minions, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together.

‘I take back what I said about luck…’ He whispered, then continued in a much louder voice. ‘Right you two, that will do for now. We don’t want the cellars too crowded so just stay on guard here for a moment while I see if I can find our friends.’

He walked smartly away along the passage again and started to climb the stairs.

‘Ah,’ he leered. ‘Mr Trim, Master Umbrage… I wonder if you would be kind enough to advise the Mayor that we have arranged as many belongings as practicable in the cellars already. I don’t want to fill them up otherwise people won’t be able to examine them properly. Perhaps Mr. Bagley would like to make arrangements for his citizens to view the goods we have brought ashore so far? Once they have been reclaimed I shall bring over more.’

‘Er, yes, of course.’ said Barney. ‘I must say you’re certainly very efficient.’

‘You’re very kind, but I feel most sincerely that it is my bounden duty to make amends as fully as possible if we are to earn forgiveness. Now if you would excuse me, I must get over to the Forge to see how the repairs are proceeding. I do so want to get that roof back on whilst the weather remains clement.’ Speke turned and shouted down the stairs. ‘Mr Trim is here, so you can lock up the cellars and return the keys to him…’

Barney and Umbrage watched Speke and his henchmen leave, and then looked at each other and smiled.

‘Do you think he took the bait? said Barney.

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

Plans to rescue Rowley

‘I am so sorry for this afternoon’s misunderstanding.’ purred Luther Speke. And whilst my esteemed Commander considers with you our future, and how additionally you should be recompensed, I can assure all here this evening that I am totally at your service, and you can entirely depend on me to instantly set in hand the most efficient and effective operation for the return of those goods and artefacts so erroneously removed from your lovely town.’

He was addressing those gathered in the Town Hall, desperately trying to ingratiate himself, licking his lips, wringing his hands, and hopelessly seeking to force what he thought was an amiable expression up as far as his eyes.

‘Furthermore, not subsequent upon this urgent work, but concurrent with it, I shall immediately arrange to assess all damage done, and tomorrow initiate replacement and repair measures that will bring back to their previous state, nay even enhance the attractions and comforts of your delightful dwellings and places of business. You need not be burdened with any of this arduous and stressful work and may therefore henceforth proceed about your normal affairs and enjoy your well deserved pleasures without any cares, exertions, nor concerns about the difficulty of the tasks before me. Leave all to me. I shall not spare myself, nor rest my weary limbs until you are satisfied and all has been made good once more… May I take it we can proceed on this basis? You have my word on it – what do you say?’

‘Bollocks.’ said Will Nudd, for whom, like most of those present, this address had gone down like a mug of lukewarm vomit.

‘Mr Speke,’ said Jasper sternly. ‘I think our captors will require more than a verbal undertaking. We shall have to prepare a written programme of work, showing priorities, responsibilities, timings and much else for discussion and agreement.’

‘I have such a proposal.’ said Speke triumphantly, pulling a document out of his coat. ‘ I laboured over it whilst others were enjoying their supper.’ He gave it to Jasper who scanned it and then handed it to Mr Bagley.

‘ “I have in my hand a piece of paper signed by Herr Hitler.” ‘ squawked Tantamount.

Speke shot him a glance of puzzled venom and then forced the leer back on to his features. ‘Of course, if our industrious captors would prefer to oversee operations, indeed provide labour, be party to detailed plans and construction, be more or totally involved, howsoever… Then, well – yes, what can I say? I am here but to serve you as you wish, to ensure no further mistakes are made, and simply, good people, to do my best for you, as would, in other circumstances, have always been my prime desire…’

‘Don’t over slime it…’ hissed Rathbone.

‘You’re the one who wanted to torture us.’ accused Nathan Boon.

‘No, no – you must have misunderstood…’ said Speke.

‘You were in charge of them as guarded us, weren’t you?’

‘Well, er yes, perhaps I was.’

‘You owe me a meal then. I never did get a proper supper.’ said the hungry one.

‘Please, I promise you – all that is in the past.’

‘How do we know we can trust him?’ asked Will.

‘We don’t have to.’ said Professor Paragon. ‘I shall remain with you until all is resolved and shall ensure that all members of the pirate crew do as we require.’

The sound of Magnus chiming the hour of eight o’clock could now be heard in the Council Chamber.

‘That reminds me – some pirates are still in the cage. Stand aside from the door please, Mr Speke…’ He snapped his fingers and a bolt of fire shot through the Chamber and out into the square. There was the sound of clanging metal, followed by a muted cheer.

‘You see,’ said the Professor, ‘I can reach out wherever I wish. Now let us get on. Perhaps Will, you and Barney could examine his proposals with Mr Speke, and then direct him in the most urgent tasks, while some of us adjourn with Sir Jasper to discuss the matter of Mr Buckram.’

‘What are we going to do with this?’ asked Jasper, pointing to his tarpaulin covered treasure chest on which Will Nudd was sitting. ‘With respect, I hope that you do not propose to lock it away in one of the Town hall cellars. They leak like colanders in my experience, and are about as effective as a gossamer corset.’

‘No, no.’ said the Professor. ‘That will be most securely confined. And believe me, I have the very place in mind, it being the Autumn Equinox, the moon about to wane, and the chest’s protection so important…’ He raised his eyebrows and looked at Aunt Hetty and Mr Bagley.

Speke bent earnestly over his document, looking down, but biting his lip, with his ears twitching.

 ‘Oh, yes!’ Aunt Hetty said, smiling smugly.

‘Er…? Ah! Oh… Right. Just so.’ agreed Mr Bagley. ‘Ideal, absolutely ideal.’

‘Are you content for us to take care of this matter?’ asked the Professor.

‘Certainly.’ said Jasper rather ruefully. ‘Provided you can obtain access to it should you so require?’

‘No problem, sweetheart.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘We will be able to obtain access to it, and you too, with our help, but others might be in for a nasty surprise if they got too nosy.’

Speke, apparently totally occupied with his proposal but with his mind racing, almost managed to keep smiling as he silently ground his teeth together.

In the Mayor’s parlour Jasper was told about the capture of Rowley Buckram by the outlaws.

‘Their leader recognised him as a rich merchant from when he was with the East India Company.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘They want a thousand guineas ransom.’

‘Then they shall have it.’ said Jasper. ‘The contents of my chest are worth very much more than that – although as to actual English guineas… I believe I have rather less than a thousand. Would they accept other gold specie? Spanish doubloons? Maria Theresa dollars? Ducats? Pieces of eight? Pistoles? Gold bullion perhaps…?’

‘Thank you, Sir Jasper.’ said Esme Trundle. ‘But I am Mr Buckram’s sister, and hold most of his capital at the farm. The actual guineas will not be a problem.’

‘I see…’ said Jasper. ‘So Richpickings is not a ruin?’

‘By no means. Its real name is High Furlong Farm, but Elisabeth thought Richpickings sounded more enticing, and it is very fertile and prosperous. The Buckrams have owned it for centuries. Most of my brother’s possessions are there. Your men will have found very little money at the bookshop.’

‘But, please forgive me, I am a little confused – your surname is Trundle, is it not?’

‘She is my aunt twice over.’ explained Elisabeth. ‘There were two Buckram sisters. One is my mother who married my father, George Trundle, and Aunt Esme married his brother, Harry.’

‘But now I am a widow Sir Jasper.’ said Esme rather softly. ‘I trust you are no longer confused?’

‘I am so sorry.’

‘There is no need to be. My husband died many years ago.’

‘I see. Er, yes. Well, with regard to the ransom – even if you provide the actual guineas, you must allow me to compensate you for their value.’

‘But that is only part of the problem.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘The outlaws demanded the ransom within the week so they will be expecting it in the next few days.’

‘And if we try to rescue him they told me they’d kill him.’ said Nathan Boon. ‘And they will.’

‘What’s to stop them killing him even if they get the ransom?’ asked Rathbone. ‘That’s got to be considered. He will know their faces and could give evidence against them if they’re ever caught.’

‘Yes, yes.’ sighed Professor Paragon. ‘We are aware of that danger.’

‘What is known about this gang?’ asked Jasper.

‘Not a lot.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘We didn’t even know they were there.’

‘I think they may be escaped prisoners.’ said Nathan. ‘Some still had bits of shackles on. They were a rough looking lot and pretty desperate. They called their leader Charnock. He was a great greasy bloke with only one eye and scars down the side of his face. He smelt like a fish. Well, they all smelt pretty horrible. And gave me a right going over, they did.’

‘I’ve heard of this creature.’ said Jasper grimly. ‘Charnock the slaver. Fearsome reputation for murder and extortion. Used to boast that no gaol could hold him. I’m surprised he hasn’t been hung by now.’

‘Sounds like a nice boy.’ said Aunt Hetty.

‘How many of them were there?’ asked Rathbone. ‘And how were they armed?’

‘Well, about ten, a dozen perhaps, I suppose.’ said Nathan. ‘Only a few had guns, but the rest had clubs and daggers and that – yes pretty well armed I’d say. And they looked hungry. There was the remains of a deer and some rabbit skins lying about, but they took our supplies and pretty well polished them off before they sent me back.’

‘Did they say anything about their plans?’

‘Well, they seemed to argue a lot, but, no, nothing specific. Although this Charnock did ask me about Summerdale.’

‘Did he indeed?’ said Jasper.

‘Oh, no.’ sighed Mr Bagley. ‘Not another load of villains thinking of raiding us. Begging your pardon, but you know what I mean.’

‘A perfectly reasonable observation, Mr Mayor.’ smiled Jasper. ‘Only this time we would be on your side if they attacked.’ He turned to Doctor Johnson and Boswell. ‘Gentlemen, I expect you had planned to return by this now threatened route?’

‘That had been our original intention sir.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘Although that pack-horse path is already difficult enough. I understand that even itinerant preachers on their missions, men proud of mortification, shun Summerdale because of the difficulty of access. And I am much loathe to commit myself once more to the perils of a sea voyage in these blustery waters, either in these brave people’s tiny fishing vessels, particularly at this time of year when we can expect the weather to worsen, or, for different reasons, without your protection on board the Black Leopard.’

‘In the quarters we normally frequent we will not yet have been missed.’ said Boswell. ‘But we should soon show ourselves again to allay any fears or speculation, and so would not wish to wait for the next packet boat in November.’

‘But with this intelligence the way by land now excites painful apprehension.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘Even though Mr Boswell is not altogether untinctured with martial competence, as was evinced in this afternoon’s engagement. No, such a journey with the possibility of confrontation by these bandits would be reckless, nay, foolhardy indeed.’

‘Dodgy by boat and deadly by land. But what about this magic caper?’ said Rathbone to Professor Paragon and Aunt Hetty. ‘You’ve totally trounced forty eight of the toughest and most experienced pirates in the western hemisphere. Surely you can make mincemeat of a clutch of mangy outlaws?’

‘It’s not that simple Percival.’ said Aunt Hetty.

‘Please…’

‘Sorry.

‘You have only seen and experienced the effects – the reality is far more complicated.’ said the Professor.

‘Using our power is like being a swimming swan.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘All appearing serene and calm and beautiful on the surface, but having to paddle away like buggery underneath in order to get anywhere. And what we have to work with depends on where we are.’

‘And the principal strength of the bells of Goldcaster extends only as far as they can be heard.’ said the Professor. ‘As the church is situated on top of the hill, and because of the prevailing south west wind and the high range of mountains on the east, the chimes often reach far up the vale of Summerdale. I have installed concealed amplifiers along the ley line that runs to Castle Crab in order to harness the power. There I have an arrangement of batteries from which I draw extra energy for certain complex major activities. But the high hills to the south limit the range of the bells in that direction. To achieve the same effects elsewhere it is often necessary to work with other ley lines, standing stones, and that sort of thing, in which the earth energy has accumulated because of continuous use and cultivation.’

‘But immediately to the south there’s hardly anything to work with at the moment.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Plenty of circles and stones and water and that, but the power has seeped right back into the earth and takes a hell of a lot of raising. What with the Lancashire Pendle business and the persecutions elsewhere in Cumberland and Westmoreland there’s scarcely any witching been done, nor proper use been made of things for years. And if you don’t look after your garden, it won’t look after you.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘That’s not to say that I couldn’t get up to plenty of mischief if needed, but no huge effects down there at present, no, I have to admit it. I’d have to go far further afield to even get me broomstick airborne.’

‘And there are other limitations.’ sighed Professor Paragon. ‘It is damned hard work, and we do not always get results totally as planned, as I think you may have realised. (There’s no need to nod quite so vigorously, Aunt Hetty.) Generally we have to take great precautions when using our powers because of what is known as the Triple Effect.’

‘It’s quite simple, so don’t look so puzzled Percy – sorry, sorry – Mr Rathbone.’ said Aunt Hetty ‘It works like this – think of a pond and bung a brick in it… Waves spread out don’t they? Your stone may have clouted a trout in the middle, but your drinking dog got his nose splashed on one side, and you got your feet wet on the other. Same with magic. It splashes about something terrible if you’re not careful. Use it to help and there will be some pleasant unpredictable side effects, however small. But if you use it to hinder or hurt (and we often have to), then you and your mates had best watch out, unless you’ve got it completely harnessed – but no one can never think of everything, and one of the problems with magic is that if you get too cocky and abuse it, it can turn on you…’

‘But in Summerdale there are huge advantages because of the totally positive effect of the regular ringing of the bells. That virtually nullifies the Triple Effect.’ said the Professor.

‘I now understand your craft a little better.’ said Jasper. ‘But even with the limitations you have explained, it would still be a great advantage to have your help in any enterprise against these outlaws, would it not? And of course I appreciate that you, Professor, must remain in Goldcaster to ensure all here proceeds properly, but would you, Mistress Paragon, be able to accompany such an expedition if undertaken by myself? Not just to ensure my good behaviour, but primarily as an invaluable, if even slightly limited, resource?’

‘Well, I suppose I can spare a bit more time away from home. Me cat’s in charge of the cottage so no one dare go near it, and the kitchen garden harvest is mostly gathered – just a few mandrake roots need pulling, and the crab apples to get off. The eyebright and feverfew are long since in and sit as juice and syrups in my potions larder. The salamander seeds didn’t germinate this year so I won’t have to catch the little devils when the buds burst – no, nothing will hurt for waiting a bit longer for my return. I have to give a lecture to the local W.I. at the end of October though…’

‘What’s the W.I.?’ asked Elisabeth.

‘The Witch’s Institute dear. Oh, and my cousin Aquilegia is coming for her annual visit soon so I’ll have to get the spare bedroom weeded – unreasonably particular she is. But I’ve still got a couple of weeks to spare to help Alfred out.’

‘Oh, good.’ sighed Professor Paragon.

‘Well, there are two very urgent reasons to go south over that pass as I see it.’ said Jasper. We have to rescue Mr Buckram, and to deliver Doctor Johnson and Mr Boswell past danger and set them safely on their homeward journey. I think that these two tasks are not incompatible. We need to convince this Charnock creature and his gang that we are no threat to him, to steer proceedings to suit us by taking advantage of their hunger, curiosity, and greed, to show that we have the ransom but that it is in his interest not to harm neither us nor Mr Buckram, and to capture them and deliver them to the authorities without arousing suspicion as to the identity of myself or any of my crew involved.’

‘Is that all Cap’n?’ said Rathbone. ‘Easy-Peasy then.’

‘How is all this to be accomplished?’ asked Doctor Johnson.

‘Well, with Mistress Paragon’s assistance I think it can be done. Your reference to itinerant preachers prompted my plan. But we shall need real gunpowder rather than pepper in our pistols. This is what I propose…’

* * *

‘I’m surprised they let you and me back on board tonight.’ said Rathbone. ‘Are they testing us?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. We can hardly sail away can we, even if we were prepared to break our parole and abandon our life savings?’ said Jasper. ‘And we’ve only the team getting prepared for tomorrow with us. Our wounded have all been made comfortable in the infirmary set up by Doctor Johnson and that Mrs. Tupman woman in the Harbour Inn, and the rest of the crew are bedded down in the Town Hall.’

‘Speke didn’t look too happy, having to muck in with the others.’

‘ “His body looks, a mind distracted show, and envy sits engraved upon his brow.” ’ said Tantamount, now returned to his master, rather reluctantly, by Tom.

‘He’ll just have to put up with it and do what they tell him. He has no choice.’

‘You didn’t believe him – about your treasure, did you?’

‘Not for a minute.’

‘What do you think will happen when the job’s done and things are made right again in Summerdale?’

‘That will be largely up to the victors, won’t it? said Jasper. ‘I think that they trust you and me, anyway. This outlaw problem has given us the chance to do a bit of community service. I hope that we can then reach a stage where they will be sufficiently satisfied to allow the crew to leave, empty handed maybe, but alive and not yet facing trial. Some might care to settle down here if they were allowed. There are far worse places to finish up.’

‘Yeah, true enough. I might consider giving it a go myself. You that way inclined Cap’n?’

‘I certainly might be. Not too cold for you then?

‘Well, now you mention it, no. Pleasantly surprised – quite sheltered really, isn’t it? And nice enough people, when you’re not robbing them. Then there’s this special power they can call on – does give a bit more security than most places… And what are the alternatives?’

‘Well, a management restructuring programme would be pointless – there’s only you, me, and Speke. There’s no need to give the stakeholders a profits warning – they’ve already lost everything. And I can hardly sell the business can I? Even if it wasn’t a co-operative there’s not a lot of goodwill left in an empty pirate ship with no weapons and a disaffected crew, and as we know already it’s quite high on the search and destroy list of half a dozen navies.

And suppose, by some strange chance and initiative we carried on and were able to prosper again? What would be our future with the navy after us? Admittedly piracy has given us certain life skills that we would not otherwise have been able to acquire in any other single profession – seamanship, gunnery, combat, lying, theft, robbery, grand larceny, kidnapping, exploitation, murder, criminal deception, and travel administration, to mention but a few. My life so far has been one of steady career development, progressing from being a mercenary in wars, invasions, and other forms of tourism, to fraud, highway robbery, smuggling, gun running, privateering, and so to piracy. What next I wonder? How low can a man sink? Slave trading? Politics? Or even worse, the ultimate betrayal of one’s fellow man – privatised Public Service Management?’

‘Or finishing up half flayed, covered with wild honey and staked out for the ants outside a primitive spiked stockade garnished with mouldering heads in the Madagascar jungle?’ suggested Tantamount helpfully.

‘Alright, alright!’ said Jasper. ‘But you get the point? The way things are these days, and with now so few prospects, it is very unlikely that any one of us will end our days full of years, lord of all we survey, surrounded by weeping naked dusky maidens on some beautiful unspoiled south seas island, is it? Is it, Rathbone?’

‘What? Sorry – sorry, I was miles away there for a minute. No, no, very unlikely. Pity, though.’

‘I had hoped to totter into my dotage with some dignity in my land of birth, but the laws of England are somewhat prejudiced against those of our persuasion. There are a hundred or so minor and not so minor unresolved legal issues which a little time, a century perhaps, might straighten out, but being a proscribed pirate is rather a total bummer, I must confess. But here in Summerdale, with a new identity, and even possibly the remote chance of finding someone with whom to spend one’s declining years… Well, perhaps…’

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

Speke’s escape frustrated

‘Have you got all our gear aboard?’ hissed Luther Speke, looking over the side of the Black Leopard.

‘Yes, Mr Speke. And we’re ready to hoist sail.’ whispered Mad Max, from the longboat.

‘Good. Just one more thing to attend to, and then we’ll be away…’

Speke crossed the deck to check the situation. Yes, a few of the townsfolk were now coming on to the quay. He had best be quick. The current was in his favour and the rising tide would help as would the freshening southerly wind. MacCroon might have trouble walking, and Murgatroyd limped badly, but they could both row with the other two until the wind caught the longboat’s sail. If they could just get up the coast out of sight by nightfall they could strike out to sea during the dark and be well away, headed for safety, and out of reach by dawn. Then he planned to throw MacCroon and Murgatroyd overboard

‘Right, you two.’ he said to Steelclaw and Blackheart. ‘Time to liberate – er, save – the Captain’s treasure chest. He wouldn’t want it falling into the hands of the enemy, would he? So I’ll look after it for him until he can claim it.’

‘How will he know where it is?’

‘Well, you’ve got a point there, granted, but it can’t be helped. If we don’t meet up with him again it will be very sad, but at least we’ll have the consolation of knowing that we’ll be more than well set up for the rest of our lives. I take it you’re in agreement with this course of action?’

‘Oh, yes, Mr Speke.’

‘Not half.’

‘Good. Now as little noise as possible – nice and gently up to his cabin. And if anyone gets in the way kill them as quietly as you can.’

‘How are you going to get in?’

‘I’ve got this special key – it’s called a muffled crowbar…’

Rathbone had left the Town Hall with instructions to return not only with Jasper’s chest, but also to bring back the Quartermaster and the cook and sufficient food to feed the crew on shore, since it was proposed that they should spend the night in the Council Chamber whilst arrangements were made for the work to be done the next day.

He and his companions had barely left the square when they came running back bringing with them Spud Tadmartin, who was soaking wet, out of breath, and sweating profusely.

‘What has happened?’ demanded Jasper.

‘Quartermaster sent us all down below.’ said Spud. ‘But from my cabin I couldn’t see what was going on. I started to come back on deck – saw Speke and Steelclaw and Blackheart and Carnage and Mad Max lowering their sea chests and gear over the port side, that being out of view from the town. They’re going to use the longboat to get away – rowing until they catch the wind and then sailing northwards… Once away from the harbour they’ll be completely out of sight… I slithered over the side and swam for the quay.’

 ‘Damnation!’ snarled Jasper.

‘And that’s not all – Speke was about to break into your cabin Cap’n, and take your treasure chest.’

‘Was he indeed? Professor Paragon, if I am to honour my obligations sir, I shall need your help.’

‘And you shall have it, Sir Jasper, oh yes, you certainly shall.’ The Professor drew a large gold watch from the folds of his cloak. ‘Ah, the Six Bob is about to be rung – most opportune. They want to catch the wind do they? Well, so be it. I shall raise such a wind as they will never forget…’

‘Well, don’t go wrecking the ship or you’ll have to dredge the harbour for the belongings.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘And you’d better keep that longboat intact as well, or the Captain’s treasure could be washed to kingdom come.’

‘Well, yes, yes, of course I am aware of that. Perhaps, dear Aunt Hetty, with your perceptions so acute, you could ride with the wind and steer its force specifically at our target, driving them somewhere safely on to the shore? And of course overseeing the capture and return of the miscreants.’

‘There’s a nice handy sand spit the other side of the mouth of the Rowan River.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘On horseback it can be reached quite quickly.’

‘Ideal.’ said the Professor. ‘We’ll use Barney’s cavalry.’ He turned to Jasper. ‘We have a number of strong horses just behind the Town Hall. In the circumstances I expect you would like to be part of our force? I thought so. Would you take Snowy once again? Perhaps Mr Rathbone could also join us? And these other two gentlemen – Mr Clarence and Mr Archibald I believe? Do you ride?’

‘I’ll give it a go guv.’ said Clarence. ‘I always said that bastard Speke took pride in being a gobshite.’

‘I belonged to the Tunbridge Wells Pony Club when I was a lad.’ said Archibald proudly. ‘Admittedly only because they paid me to do the mucking out. But I never got kicked.’

‘Good, good.’ said the Professor impatiently. ‘And Mr Boswell, perhaps yourself, and Barney, with Will Nudd leading as he knows the area, and the Bashem brothers at the back to add a dash of menace? I think that would do very well, if you agree? Best get mounted and on your way then. I shall be very busy here, but you can be sure that my aunt will direct matters on the ground with enthusiasm and relish. Perhaps Umbrage would hitch a cart to Berengaria please – we will need to bring their cargo back. Ah, all the bells have started to peal… Excellent!’

The Goldcaster Six Bob Change was quite straightforward, but very impressive. Firstly came the bass boom of Magnus, then up the scale for Abelard and higher still for Godolphin, to descend to Ignatius and down to Calabar. Then Magnus pealed again, as though to hammer home the message. This night the bell ringers, led by Mr Trundle, were really celebrating and intended to ring until nightfall, if their muscles managed to survive, and their arms were up to it.

There was satisfying symmetry to the simple refrain, a fullness and formality, but with an air of assurance and celebration, as though all would be safe and secure in Summerdale now the Bells of Goldcaster could ring out their benefits once again.

For those in the square the Six Bob Change this day was like a magic light show. The green glow of the great bell would lie upon the stones and walls as the bright blue of Abelard and the golden glow of Godolphin washed over the rooftops, and as the rose red of Ignatius and the orange of Calabar flowed through the streets and lanes, to be succeeded by the green again. It was as though as the peals rang out a rippling rainbow was being laid time after time upon the town, with the dominant colours changing all the while.

Elisabeth brought Snowy up to the Town Hall steps and Jasper swung himself into the saddle.

‘Good luck!’ she said.

‘Thank you, my dear, but for the first time for a long while I feel I am on the righteous side at last…’ He patted Snowy’s shoulder. ‘Here we are again, old fellow.’ he said, and then rode over to join the other horses now entering the square and being mounted by the eager riders.

‘Mr Boswell, gentlemen… Mr Nudd, we meet again. I recall your brave performance the night we arrived. Well now we are at your service, sir.’

‘Right. Follow me then…’ grunted Will.

‘Tally yoicks!’ said Clarence to his steed. ‘Hark for’ard! Hut, hut, hut!’

‘Don’t show us up!’ hissed Jasper. ‘It’s not a confounded camel!’

‘Well, I dunno, do I?’ grumbled Clarence. ‘Mush, mush, mush, then…’

‘We’ll need something to bring back what they’ve stolen. There’s an undamaged cart by the bridge.’ Rathbone called out to Umbrage. ‘We didn’t use it for the barricade.’

‘Thank you pirate.’ said Umbrage. ‘And Mr Tadmartin, would you care to join us for a traction engine ride? You could help us hitch that cart.’

‘Yes, come on Spud,’ said Elisabeth. ‘You’ll enjoy it.’

‘Hello Spud.’ said Tom. ‘Tantamount and I will come as well. You will be on parole to us this time. You can help me stoke the boiler – you’ll soon dry out.’

The cavalry galloped off, their hooves striking sparks from the cobbles as they crammed through the narrow lane leading out of the square, some of them rather bruising their elbows against the stone walls either side. Then they thundered down the quay, leapt clear of the remains of the barricade, and surged over the bridge and up the shore road down which Jasper and his men had returned earlier.

As they left Professor Paragon appeared behind the parapet on the roof of Town Hall with Mr Bagley and Doctor Johnson behind him. Standing back. Well back.

The Professor took from his robes a primitive bone whistle, once white but now scarred, chipped, weathered, and worn, the strange markings on it now unclear. He blew a phrase upon it, an eerie, sinister trill, a sound that made Mr Bagley and Doctor Johnson shiver.

‘Come Thunor… Come Cardea…’ he whispered softly. ‘Come close and serve my needs…’

He blew the whistle phrase twice more, and then extended his arms and looked upwards through the colours of the chiming bells. It had been really a rather nice autumn afternoon, but now great clouds started to form and the sky began to darken to a gunmetal grey.

‘Come Thor – red and raging –and blow out the bristles of your beard – Blow!, blow!!’ he cried. ‘Come Bel in thunder and show your fire!’’

Now the Professor blew the whistle three times once again, more loudly now, and the shrill notes echoed harshly around the square, as the first rumble of a storm came out of the now lowering sky. He raised his arms again, but this time with his fists clenched, and then he punched the air above…

‘COME YOU ALL, AND GIVE FOR US – TEMPESTAS POENA!’’

‘What does that mean? whispered Mr Bagley, apprehensively.

‘The storm of retribution.’ replied Doctor Johnson, looking decidedly worried. ‘I hope these Gods of his can be a bit selective.’

The rapid strengthening of the wind could be not only felt but seen, because the colours of the bells were caught up in the gusts swirling all around the Market Square. Mini rainbow whirlwinds started to form in all the corners and nooks between the buildings, only to be succeeded by a great rushing noise as the gale took hold. Every shred and scrap of debris was lashed by the colours, then sucked up and vanished high in the air as the wind burst up and out and over the town.

The scudding rain was being blown with such force that it passed horizontally overhead with only a few drops falling on the frightened crowd below. The rain was so dense that as it struck the Church hill to the south, sudden torrents poured down and into the town with streams and rivulets running through the lanes and alleys and forming a lake washing around the ankles of those in the square, before escaping out on to the quay and flowing in waterfalls into the harbour.

But there was a tiny problem. If the longboat was to be blown ashore on to the sand spit up the coast, a north wind coming from that direction was hardly helpful.

Aunt Hetty, being an experienced aeronaut, normally took off on her broomstick with the wind behind her, but now found herself blown over before becoming airborne.

‘Oh, heavens forfend!’ muttered Professor Paragon as she looked up at him from the square, shaking her fist, and screeching something unintelligible but certainly threatening and probably rather rude, as Esme Trundle struggled in the gale to help her get upright.

 ‘No, no! From the South, Cardea, From the South! ‘ implored the Professor. ‘Boreas, Boreas!’’

The gale rapidly eased off, then stopped completely.. A flurry of raindrops whirled down and then up into the air and then all was still for a breathless moment. The lake trickled away, the crowd came out of doorways and from under overhanging eaves, shook themselves, and breathed a united sigh of relief. And Aunt Hetty revved and puttered, drops of water and steam spat from her bristles, and then she got properly airborne at last. But now the storm hit again, only this time from the right direction.

Soaring high above Goldcaster, Aunt Hetty could see to the south of the harbour the waves of the rising tide begin to batter the shore. Flashes and stabs of lightning illuminated Summerdale, and northwards along the course of the Rowan trees were bending and branches snapping off.

A whirlwind came up the coast towards her and she suddenly found herself flying through a shower of shrimps. Feeling safer in the air rather than on the rooftops, the seagulls had taken off and flown before the storm. Seeing her as he passed, Fastnet tried to turn and join her, but was being blown backwards before she was able to grab him and place him safely in the folds of her tightly secured cloak.

‘Stick with me kiddo.’ she said. ‘You’ll be safe enough with the old Black Hag – I hope…’

On Berengaria Umbrage was finding it very hard to see where to steer through the driving rain, and his height didn’t help. Spud and Elisabeth were leaning out either side, trying to be as helpful as possible – ‘Right a bit, left a bit – left, left left!’, ‘Starboard a bit, port a bit – port, port, port!’

‘ “Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Thou art not so unkind as man’s ingratitude – blow, rage – blow your cataracts and hurricanos!” ‘shrieked Tantamount helpfully, as they crossed the bridge, scraping the wall on one side and sending stones splashing into the river, with the smoke from the traction engine chimney billowing away before them.

The cavalry’s progress, already at a gallop, became more like a stampede as they fled before the gale. There were flaring nostrils and streaming flanks everywhere. And the horses were much the same.

Rathbone was well forward on his mount, his arms clutched tight around her neck with his head buried in her mane. All she could hear was ‘Good girl oh christ! good girl oh christ!’ over and over again, interspersed with the occasional obscenity.

Archibald’s horse, buffeted like the others, slipped on the wet road and he slid over her head and into a ditch. His Percheron, being a caring sort of mare, paused in her flight, took hold of his collar, and pulled him out, covered in mud. She knelt down, licked his face, and he scrambled back up.

Clarence had managed to stay on his Suffolk stallion but had assumed an unusual posture, hanging as he was upside down from the horse’s neck with his feet locked over the pommel of the saddle. He was praying devoutly that his grip would hold otherwise his head would smash on the ground and he would be trampled by the thundering hooves. If it hadn’t been for the din of the storm his companions might have heard his screams, but at least in that position he had some protection from the rain and the sudden flurries of hail stones.

The only members of the troop almost at ease were the Bashem brothers, who rode their horses bareback without stirrups, and whose feet consequently paddled on the ground nearly as often as the hooves struck down.

‘Bloody hell!’ screeched Jasper, struggling to calm Snowy before his headlong career became an undignified bolt.

‘That’s not like you Sir J.’ panted Rathbone.

‘Well, does it have to be so drastic? – for heavens sake! Can’t these Paragons show some sense of proportion?’

‘I heard that… And I’m doing my best!’ shrieked Aunt Hetty from above.

‘Doesn’t your nephew use a check list or a recipe or something?’ shouted Jasper.

‘Well, he’s not so much your cordon bleu, he’s more your inundation expert.’

‘That much is apparent Madam. Well, we look to you to save us from disaster.’

‘You’ll be alright – perhaps. Just hold on tight while we get things under control…’

Aunt Hetty was much concerned about the effects of so strong a storm on the poor old Black Leopard. It was swaying to and fro and starting to heel over and drag its anchors. Then a waterspout came shrieking from the south and whirled into the harbour, momentarily sucking it dry. The ship grounded and began to tip, before the sea rushed back in a great wave, lifting up the Leopard and saving her, but breaking with terrific force against the quay, splashing up over the buildings, and drenching the nearest people in the square, including especially those pirates who had been imprisoned in the cage near the quay lane and so received the full effect. Of the small Goldcaster fishing boats which had been tied to the ship, two had been torn away and smashed to splinters against the harbour wall.

Aunt Hetty swooped back and down to the Town Hall roof. ‘Ease it off a bit you stupid bugger!’ she shrieked. ‘We could lose everything!’

‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…’ muttered Professor Paragon, desperately waggling his fingers and tugging at his beard.

‘Wouldn’t a moderate gale be sufficient?’ pleaded Mr Bagley, now crouched down in the lee of one of the Town Hall chimney stacks, and holding tightly on to Doctor Johnson.

‘With perhaps just the occasional strategic gust?’ suggested Doctor Johnson, holding tightly on to Mr Bagley. ‘I had hoped not to meet my maker quite so soon.’

‘Yes, YES! Just let me concentrate… Er – Deminuere… Yes, that’s a bit better… and perhaps Coartare? – Yes, yes…’

The wind began to lessen and became narrower in its effect, but was still tempestuous and wilful, blowing the tiles off the roof tops of the town one minute and then rampaging up the river valley the next.

‘Nearly right,’ said Professor Paragon, ‘Here we go – ‘Donare ad Saga!’ – Give it to the Witch!’

The storm now narrowed and rose up towards Aunt Hetty. She swooped towards it, ushering it out of the town with her hands, steering her broomstick with her clenched knees, and then flying over and under the wind, and along each side, stabbing at it with her bony fingers, as though she was harnessing it by stitching an invisible but controlling net about its strength.

Now in the forefront of this still roaring force whose multiple colours were somewhat fainter the further it blew from the church, she drew it northwards once again until the mouth of the Rowan came in sight, with the cavalry pounding along the coast road, and the longboat, its sail billowing well, heeled half over as it cut its way north through the waves.

As Aunt Hetty came abreast of the boat she gestured the wind downwards and blew lightly towards it. The longboat sail promptly ripped and shredded itself.

‘Avast below you lily livered lubbers!’ she cried. ‘Belay your bilges, batten your bollards already… Trying to row your way out of trouble? Oh, shame – there go the oars. Rake your ratlines you gombeen marauders, careen your cleats… Now let’s have a little gustipoo here… and perhaps there… Lovely, lovely. Are we being driven ashore? How annoying for you. Still, it’s only a sandbank – you’ll survive to be hung. Just another little puff methinks. Oh dear, man overboard. Can’t he swim? Well he’ll just have to wade won’t he? I dunno – pirates who can’t swim. No wonder you’re in such deep sh… Ah, here comes the cavalry… Didn’t they get here quickly? Whoops a daisy – another one in the oggin. At least he’s swimming. Nice to see one of you has got a sense of porpoise…’

By the time they had crawled or been swept ashore there was no fight left in the crew of the longboat. Battered by the wind, soaking wet, and feeling lucky just to be alive, they merely lay exhausted sadly on the sand as the cavalry surrounded them. Even the Quartermaster staggered with fatigue as he tumbled out of the bow of the beached boat, his long black coat snagging on the rowlocks, and looking forlornly behind him at the sea chests so carefully stowed between the thwarts, and especially gazing wistfully at one particular item.

‘Betrayal, Luther Speke?’ said Jasper coldly. ‘Off to the flesh pots of the Solway Firth, were we?’

‘I do not ride with my enemies Sir Jasper.’

‘We have been totally defeated by powers far beyond our previous experience. I have pledged my treasure as a token of good faith, in return for which the crew remain at least alive and on parole. You, however have put that agreement in peril by making off and stealing my only bargaining advantage.’

‘There has been a total misunderstanding Captain. From what I was told I was lead to believe that you had been captured. It’s my job to look after our resources. My only course, by way of serving you, was to save your chest and take it somewhere safe where we could hide, whilst I established how best you could be rescued. That was the way of it, wasn’t it lads?’

‘What? Yeah. My leg don’t half hurt…’

‘If you say so – whatever… ’

‘Eh? Oh… Aye…’

‘I nearly bloody drowned that time…’

‘You see?’ said Speke.

‘What about the rest of the crew? You just abandoned them.’ accused Rathbone.

‘I had to.’ lied Speke. ‘There was a dangerous atmosphere on board. Whenever I drew near they ceased their chatter and shifted away. I feared a mutiny brewing, and of course I and these loyal men would have been outnumbered. I had no choice but to slip away secretly, in your best interests.’

‘ “The devil damn thee black, thou cream faced loon…” ’squawked Tantamount, shaking his feathers free from rain.

The wind had now died away and Aunt Hetty flew gently down, her broomstick skidding a little on the wet sand as she landed.

‘Who is this slimy creature?’ she asked.

‘May I present Mr Speke, our Quartermaster.’ said Jasper. ‘He tells us that he was only seeking to save the treasure until such time as he could establish what the exact situation was.’

‘Oh, yeah? Sounds like a river of drivel to me. Well there will be more than one eye kept on him, I can assure you. What did you say his name was? I have trouble remembering names – I’ll just call him Arsehole. And who are these two with the faces like over-ripe tubs of condemned offal? They appear to rather fear the Bashem boys.’

‘Don’t let ‘em hit us again Missis – keep ‘em off for gawds sake…’

‘Steelclaw Hawkins and Blackheart Luke. They are Mr Speke’s assistants. They surge round him like glue.’

‘Well, they’ll regret it if they try and surge around me. Ah, I know this one. You’re the Murgatroyd boy aren’t you? I gave you a special lunch and this is how you repay us.’

‘Special was right miss. Hello – it was you, wasn’t it, Mr Boswell. You stabbed me in the thigh, you bugger. Still, no hard feelings eh?’

‘And who is this, groaning and massaging his feet?’

‘Ah, this is Ordinary Seaman MacCroon. They call him ‘Carnage’. He’s rather a loose cannon short of the full bombardment if you take my meaning. I’m afraid you would find normal conversation with him rather difficult. His broad Glaswegian accent is embellished with an inarticulate vocabulary of only about fifty words, most of them beginning with ‘F’.’

‘What have you to say for yourself, oh bandaged one?’ asked Aunt Hetty.

‘Effing sorry. Ah dinna ken wa was goin’ doon.’

‘You Hibernian git.’ spat Rathbone.

‘Dinna patronise me.’ moaned Carnage.’ Wha’s to effing treat ma wee footies by the way?’

Berengaria now crunched to a halt on the edge of the beach, and Luther Speke and his longboat crew were pushed and heaved on to the cart together with all their cargo, and set off back to Goldcaster, guarded by Will Nudd and Barney, with an armed escort riding alongside.

‘Thank you, er, Hepzibah.’ said Jasper. ‘May I address you thus? For a while there I thought all would be lost to the elements, but you have saved the day.’

Just call me Hetty, Jasper.’ she smiled. ‘I’ve been scrying forwards, and we’re allies now.’

And so they all left the sandbank, Berengaria complacently puffing back along the coast road to Goldcaster with her cargo of miscreants, the great horses of the cavalry trotting gently alongside, still steaming but now also snorting with satisfaction, their riders patting them and praising them, and even Clarence, now upright once again, grinning with triumph and relief.

On the shore the longboat had now been hauled above the high tide mark to await collection, and once again redshanks pattered past the drying seaweed, etching their spider prints in the wet grey sand.

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

Jasper proposes peace terms

Jasper rode slowly into the Market Square followed by his small party of so far unharmed men.

As he entered there was almost total silence and all eyes turned towards him. He stopped to take in the grotesque spectacle.

There were traders, stall holders, and Summerdale residents, all smiling smugly. Rathbone’s men were intermingled with the defenders, close to a stage with candles in shaded holders as the footlights and the proscenium arched with red velvet curtains. A handsome if somewhat plump woman was leering at him from the stage, there were various livestock performing their bodily functions amongst the stalls, sheep droppings and yellowing cabbage leaves were squashing underfoot, poultry were pecking between the cobblestones, and a discarded broken cutlass was lying nearby.

An unwashed long haired creature, presumably a leftover from some previous manifestation, clad in a kaftan, with grimy bare feet in thonged sandals, carrying some sort of mandolin and smoking what smelt like hashish, lurched past him, eyes glazed, leading a mangy mutt on a string. ‘Moody the threads man…’ he muttered approvingly. ‘Rock on daddyo…’

On the Town Hall steps across the square stood the Mayor of Goldcaster, now quite magisterial with his official robe, tricorne hat, and staff of office, but nowhere nearly as impressive as the tall, severe looking, bearded gentleman beside him, who was clad in an ermine edged midnight blue cloak decorated with silver and gold symbols, and who was wearing a floppy velvet burgundy bonnet edged with gold braid, of the sort favoured by sixteenth century aristocrats.

Nearby in the square stood James Boswell and Doctor Johnson, neither obviously in any further danger whatsoever from himself

At that moment, almost upright on her humming broomstick, Hepzibah Paragon came flying sedately over the rooftops. She inclined her head and gave a royal wave as she passed above him and then settled gently down near her nephew on the Town Hall steps.

A dozen herring gulls also now flew in and perched upon the parapet of the Town Hall roof. Nearby were several grim looking crows, their heads twitching as they peered about, looking at the square below.

Jasper waved the men behind him back to the edge of the square, and then rode cautiously forward alone between the stalls and shambles all about him. As he did so some things dissolved and vanished, but others took their place.

‘Evening paper m’lord? Read all about it – amazing scenes in northern seaside town. None dead – yet…’

‘Somewhere for your holidays your grace? One way trip to Wapping with a quick trial thrown in and the three tide ducking of your tarred and tattered corpse for free…?’

‘Retirement home sir? Prestigious remote and humble hovels for outlaws and fugitives in all parts. Deserts, jungles, and arctic wastes a speciality…’

And then the great bell Magnus tolled at last.

A deep green emerald tide of colour spread over all of Goldcaster with each peal, as though a new life for Summerdale was springing forth, cleansing every corner and sharpening every facet of the beams and timber frames and stone faced walls of the buildings in the square, and every twig and leaf and gnarled branch of the trees in the corners. And as the colour began to ebb something strange happened up on the Town Hall steps. A rather shabby bulging canvas bag on the floor beside Professor Paragon began to glow and then to smoke.

Suddenly what appeared to be a small red toy dragon burst through the zip along the top. But it was alive. It spread and flapped its little wings, then coughed and snorted loudly. Stabs of flame shot from its nostrils, at first tiny, but then increasing as the creature itself began to swell and grow. Soon it was the size of a small dog, and its fiery breath was shooting out a yard of flame each snort.

‘Whoops-a-daisy!’ exclaimed Barney, grabbing it by the ears, and running into the square.

‘Mind your backs please ladies and gents – coming through – if you’d be so kind – I thank you – sorry about that – only a singe – quickly now, out of the way – must get to water!’

Holding his burden at arm’s length Barney disappeared through the lane that lead to the quay. Jasper heard the sound of an explosion and a column of steam rose up above a warehouse roof. After a moment Barney came back, with the dragon once more its original size, looking rather bemused, on a lead, and shaking drops of water of its back..

‘Er, excuse me…’

‘Who are you then?’ asked Barney.

‘Leading Seaman Dancer, and I’m not best pleased. You may call it a singe – I call it a bloody liberty. The whole right side of my best doublet is burnt to a cinder.’

‘Can’t be helped squire. At least your eyebrows still work. If you can’t take a joke you shouldn’t have joined.’

Jasper coughed, covered his mouth, and managed to keep a straight face.

Tantamount settled on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. ‘ “A sight so gay, by fire now much impaired…” ‘

‘Indeed. Even in these dire circumstances a jot of light relief is welcome.’

Seeing Jasper, Rathbone made his way, with some difficulty, across the square.

‘Ah, Mr Mate, you appear uninjured. Good. How about the rest?’

‘Mainly cuts and bruises and loss of dignity.’

‘It turned out not to have been the sort of conflict we are used to.’

‘Er, no Captain. Not quite what we had in mind. In fact we had sheer bloody chaos inflicted on us right from the off. Bit of light relief at the end, granted, but our powder turned to pepper and there were all kinds of colours and illusions and obstacles and difficulties to contend with, in addition to a spirited defence. We’ve been battered to bits by adversity, physically and mentally. No way are we going to beat this lot. I’m gutted.’

‘I’m not exactly made up about it myself.’

‘ “At the end of the day, in the beautiful game of two halves on the field of dreams, we gave it our best shot – sur ma tete, son, and so it’s early doors, and all about being as sick as a parrot.” ‘ said Tantamount sadly. ‘ “The long days task is done…” ‘

‘Not quite.’ said Jasper.

‘What are we – and more to the point – what are you going to do Sir J.?’ asked Rat bone. ‘They’re being very patient but that can’t last for ever. And what about the future?’

‘Never mind the future – I’m up to my eyes with the present right now. I hope to persuade their leaders to allow us to return the booty and let the crew go free if I remain as surety.’

‘You’re on dodgy ground there.’

‘ “His steps are as upon a thin crust of ashes, beneath which the lava is still flowing.” ‘sighed Tantamount doubtfully.

‘Very apt.’ said Rathbone. ‘With this paranormal bollocks they’ve got total control. They can get everything back and then turn us into slaves, or kill us, or whatever.’

‘The contents of my chest will more than compensate for the damage done. And there may be some way I can be of service, or at least calm them whilst you get away.’

‘Excuse I, ‘ said Archibald, who had also struggled through the square towards them. ‘You stay, we stay. If they let us.’

‘Atchooo!’ sneezed Clarence, also now nearby. ‘No, it’s not hay fever – it’s the stress. Psychosomatic symptoms you see, and I’m not leaving either. And begging your pardon, but if we don’t have you we might not get Mr Rathbone. The Quartermaster will demand an election and all hell would break loose on the Leopard.’

By now several of the crew, even some walking wounded, had made their way to Jasper’s side.

‘Not going to serve under Speke – him as bad as enemy, nearly.’ said Eustace.

‘I’m quite cosy the way things are, thank you very much.’ said Morry

‘You da man, Cap’n, no one else.’

‘Yeah. Me and the QM – we’re hardly on Speking terms…’

‘Har, har, har!’

‘Thank you once again gentlemen.’ said Jasper. ‘And I admire your stoicism. Being able to laugh at a time like this – that’s either courage or stupidity. Whichever it is I’m proud to be in your company.’

‘ “Pity the man who cannot shed a tear, but pity more the man who cannot smile in adversity.” said Tantamount.

(‘What’s this “stoicism” then?’

‘Well… It’s yer skill stowing things away… Ain’t it? Like being tidy or something.’

‘Well Eustace ain’t tidy. He’s more like a Tracy Emin bed.’

‘What’s that then?’

‘Ask the parrot – he said it…’)

Some other members of the crew had been edging nonchalantly towards the lane that lead to the quay, peering about them in carefree manner and whistling tunelessly through their teeth. Jasper saw the mayor whispering to the witch’s nephew who then pointed towards this group. His fingers snapped, a flash of fire shot across the square, there was a crash and a clanging, and the errant pirates were immediately encased in a cage, the bars of which must have been rather hot since they all quickly huddled together in the centre.

‘Ah…’ said Jasper. ‘It looks as though we are all staying anyway. But I mustn’t keep them waiting any longer. The rest of you remain here.’

‘Walk on…’ he said to his horse, and moved slowly forward towards the Town Hall, the defenders falling back on either side of him, and the Professor’s market day makeover vanishing as he passed.

The square suddenly appeared much more empty and ordered. His adversaries were now confidently ranged before him, some smiling with a degree of smugness, others relieved and sighing as befits people from whom a great burden has passed, and yet others, on a more secure footing, who, whilst relishing their part in the triumph over him, were prepared to treat with him as equals.

He came first to Elisabeth and Tom, who had hastened from the church, now together with their Aunt Esme.

He dismounted, and bowed low to Esme Trundle.

‘I have the honour to meet you once again, Madam. Thank you for taking the pains to be present at my downfall. I hope I shall acquit myself as you would expect?’

Esme, her heart fluttering a little, bobbed her head rather formally. ‘I am sure you shall, Sir Jasper.’

‘Elisabeth, my dear,’ he said, handing over the reins, ‘Would you look after the horse for the moment? He needs returning to his owners – my men borrowed him for me from a farm near yours. Perhaps you would kindly return him?’

‘Of course, Sir Jasper.’ said Elisabeth, sniffing a little and with the suspicion of a lump in her throat. ‘Hello, Snowy.’

‘Ah…’ said Jasper. ‘I thought of him more as Bucephalus – but merely a delusion of course. No empire for him to share with me.’ He stroked the horse’s head and patted his shoulder. ‘Thank you for your service, old fellow, I hope you enjoyed our strolls together. I certainly didn’t. Hello again Tom.’

‘Hello, sir. I’ll still be your Midshipman if you like.’

‘That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, old chap, but I don’t think it’s very practicable at the moment. I tell you what – would you take care of Tantamount for me? With regard to food and water and shelter? He’s a great companion and it would comfort me to know he was in safe hands…’

‘I’d be glad to sir.’

‘Not leaving.’ sniffed Tantamount, tossing his head and turning away.

‘Just while matters get arranged?’ pleaded Jasper.

Tantamount looked at him with his head on one side, then nodded. ‘Suppose so. For the moment, you understand?’ He looked at Tom and raised a friendly, if patchy wing. ‘Very well. Nice lad. Could do with a bit more education, and “I am a scholar, and a ripe and good one.” ’

‘Thank you my friends.’ said Jasper. ‘That sounds a bit odd, doesn’t it? Well, I’d best pay my respects to your colleagues…’ He turned and started walking toward the Town Hall. Snowy snorted and pawed the ground, but Jasper looked back for a moment, raised his hand to calm him, and then turned away again, and strode on through the crowd who parted before him.

He then came to Doctor Johnson and James Boswell who were standing at the foot of the Town Hall steps.

‘Doctor Johnson – I am so glad to see you well sir, may I say almost exuberant? Perhaps I need not have worried so much about you after all?’

‘My health has been stimulated by the challenges of this affair and the exceptional climate of this spot, and indeed the welcome outcome – Virtuti paret robus…’

‘Well sometimes virtue does overcome strength, but generally it’s a damned long haul, and often takes centuries by which time many rogues like me have prospered and been gathered before retribution can be delivered, or indeed remorse expressed or recompense obtained. And in this instance virtue has had remarkable assistance has it not Mr Boswell?’

‘It decidedly has, sir.’

‘Very true.’ smiled Doctor Johnson.

‘We three have had to accommodate ourselves to things totally beyond our previous experience, have we not?’ said Jasper. ‘But I only this afternoon became aware that I was trying to achieve my objectives with a sensation not unlike having one hand tied behind the back whilst trying to swim through seaweed, being opposed as I was by a portfolio of paranormal obstacles frustrating my every endeavour.’

Fastnet flew down and alighted on Boswell’s shoulder.

‘Hello gull.’ said Jasper. ‘I see your intelligence team are present up on the roof. I congratulate you on your efficiency. I am now aware that you have been privy to my every move.’

‘Doctor J organised it.’ said Fastnet. ‘I was just the Wing Commander.’

‘Good heavens.’ said Jasper. ‘No wonder it worked so well. And I see you also have crows….

‘They’re nothing to do with us. They’ve come down to peck the eyes from the corpses, but they’re out of luck today. Shame really, they don’t often get that treat around here, not with humans. With your sheep and your rabbits and that sort of thing, of course, yes, all the time, but with your lot, no, not often.’

‘Quite. What a relief anyway.’

Jasper mounted the Town Hall steps, doffing his hat and bowing to Aunt Hetty. ‘Well, here we are again Madam Paragon. Forgive me for ever doubting you. I presume this is your extremely accomplished nephew? I am honoured to make your acquaintance sir.’

‘Sir Jasper Scabbard…’ nodded Professor Paragon sternly.

‘With the wonderful powers of yourself and this good lady, what could we accomplish jointly if we strived for something good?’

‘I doubt that event likely.’ sniffed the Professor. ‘I presume you have come to surrender?’

‘I see no alternative and accept that such submission will be entirely on your terms. But whilst I appreciate that you have been the prime mover, I feel an obligation for the formalities to be observed…’ Jasper turned towards Mr Bagley, and bowed low.

‘Mr Mayor, I congratulate you on your choice of allies. I have done you and your people a great wrong. Will you accept the surrender of myself and my men?’ He drew his sword and offered it, basket hilt forward.

‘Er, yes. Er, of course. Thank you.’ said Mr Bagley, taking the sword rather awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with it. He handed it to Professor Paragon who passed it on to Barney.

‘What beautiful craftmanship.’ said Barney. ‘A Toledo blade if I’m not mistaken? Steel tempered in the blood of tortured heretics I’ve heard.’

‘I didn’t know that.’ said Jasper. ’I acquired it from the Marquis of Cordoba. He – er, no longer had a use for it…’

Arnold the toad looked out Mr Bagley’s top pocket with interest. ‘Ribbit?’ he said.

‘Ah!’ exclaimed Aunt Hetty. ‘I’d forgotten you’d still got him. Come here Arnold.’

Arnold hopped out of Mr Bagley’s pocket and on to Jasper’s shoulder.

‘Don’t try to brush him off!’ shouted Aunt Hetty. ‘You could turn into something. Just pick him off gently… That’s right… Nice and easy… There we are.’

Jasper handed Arnold over to Aunt Hetty, stroking the back of the toad very carefully with his index finger. ‘That’s one of the things I like about Summerdale.’ he said. ‘Every other moment offers a new and challenging experience.’

‘Can we please get on?’ asked Professor Paragon impatiently. ‘I hadn’t intended to stand here on these steps exchanging pleasantries all night. We have certain requirements to be met.’

‘May I speak?’ asked Jasper.

‘Yes, but you must understand your submission is unconditional. We shall decide what has to be done next.’

‘Of course. My prime concerns are how to make reparation and amends, to look to the welfare and future of my crew, and consider how best I can show and prove good faith. I have at my disposal on board the proceeds of my profession prior to this engagement. In gold and coin alone that treasure should be far more than sufficient to compensate for any loss, inconvenience, or injury. If you will grant parole to me and my men I shall ensure that necessary work is undertaken to repair and make good all damage as quickly as possible, and of course all goods taken from the town and elsewhere in Summerdale will be returned. I shall also ensure that my men fully understand the peril that could befall them if any one of them should give cause for concern. After what I have seen today I am in no doubt that you can administer prompt and severe incapacity to any of us should you so wish.’

Mr Bagley looked at Professor Paragon, Professor Paragon looked at Doctor Johnson, Doctor Johnson looked at James Boswell, and they all looked at Aunt Hetty.

‘Well?’ she said. ‘What are you waiting for? That’s what we all wanted isn’t it? I know him well enough by now – if he says he’ll do it, he will. And if he don’t they’ll all suffer far worse than the squitters.’

‘Umm, yes..’ pondered Doctor Johnson. ‘But what about compensating for a life of crime?’

‘I do not suggest that your ultimate decision would depend on financial advantage,’ said Jasper, ‘But suppose I gave my total treasure into your care, either to doubly ensure my compliance with your instructions, or possibly permanently made over to you in return for the avoidance of imprisonment and execution of my crew by other authorities. I only wish that there was some major endeavour where my skills could adequately provide an element essential for your needs so that you would allow us then to go our separate ways, or maybe even in some cases to settle here in Summerdale, and show by our contribution to your community real commitment and reform…?’

‘Your proposals go a long way to meet our requirements.’ said Professor Paragon approvingly.

‘And there is an issue where Sir Jasper might be of service.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘With regard to Mr Buckram’s situation…?’

‘Ah, yes…’ pondered the Professor. ‘We need to retire for a moment Sir Jasper. Would you wait here please? Mrs. Trundle, Elisabeth, Will, Barney, Umbrage – would you join us? It is only right that you should contribute to our decisions.’

‘I’ll guard Sir Jasper shall I?’ said Tom.

‘I shall be proud to be your prisoner.’ smiled Jasper.

The council moved through the entrance to the Town Hall and into the foyer. Jasper’s hearing was as good as his eyesight and he could make out certain words and phrases.

‘Reasonable… Trust him?… Nothing to lose… Uncle Rowley… Outlaws… Ransom… Escort for Doctor Johnson and myself… Don’t know about having the buggers living with us… Some sort of document?… Try him out first… Let’s get on with it then – my moke needs feeding.’

The gathering came back out on to the steps.

‘Ahem, yes…’ coughed the Professor. ‘It appears that the ladies present are prepared to trust your word, as are the Mayor, Doctor Johnson, and Mr Boswell. The others have some reservations but are prepared to give you an opportunity to prove your good faith, at least in the short term. I don’t have to trust you of course as you and your men will be under my total control at all times, but nevertheless I am prepared to work with you in a civilised manner. Oh, yes, and there is a matter which gives us great concern where you may be of some assistance, and we shall explain that situation shortly. We accordingly grant you the parole that you offer. Barney, please give Sir Jasper back his sword.’

‘I am most grateful. You will not regret this.’

Jasper turned and called across the square. ‘At ease, men. You are all safe but on parole. And if you break that parole you’ll be turned to stone or worse. You will receive my instructions presently. All quite clear? Good. Mr Rathbone – would you join us please?… ‘Professor Paragon, this is my First Mate. He is totally trustworthy and extremely reliable.’

‘Howdy do.’ nodded Rathbone, and turned to Mr Bagley. ‘You always were the Mayor, weren’t you? Marvellous – I’m sorry I trod on you on Monday. No harm done I hope?’

‘Er, no, no. Just a minor bruise or two.’

‘Evening Miss.’ said Rathbone to Aunt Hetty. ‘You were brilliant with that broomstick, if I may say so, but I didn’t go a lot on that soup you gave us – well I did in a manner of speaking, it was very effective…’

‘Thank you Percival.’

‘Please don’t call me that Miss…’

‘Very well. As long as you behave yourself.’

Rathbone turned to Barney. ‘Your lot were doing well, even without the magic stuff. Will you shake hands with a pirate?’

‘Certainly.’ said Barney. ‘There we are… You won’t mind if I count me fingers? Only joking.’

‘I need to send word to tell my Quartermaster and the few, mainly injured men aboard the Black Leopard about what has happened.’ said Jasper. ‘I also suggest that at the same time my treasure chest is brought ashore and placed in your hands as the most practical first step in our joint proceedings. Perhaps that would help to make us feel more at ease with each other? If you agree Mr Rathbone could take a couple of my best men for that task. You need have no fear that they, with the others, would sail away with your belongings still aboard – there are far too few able bodied men on the Leopard to rig and sail the vessel.’

‘I have no fear of that whatsoever.’ said Professor Paragon, rather smugly Jasper thought. ‘In a few minutes time all five bells will be ringing the special Summerdale power peal – the Goldcaster Six Bob Change. Thereafter the powers of my aunt and I will be even greater and wider than at present – no, I have no concerns about any of you escaping, and indeed everything is going exactly according to plan.’

Er, not quite…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

The Church Yard—the pirates give in but Speke has other plans

Jasper arrived at the church yard to find the empty brewers dray abandoned behind the yews, and the great cart horses grazing in the field behind the church.

As he rode through the lych gate a new note rang out from the tower above. Now Calabar, the second largest bell, was free to peal once more. Orange and amber radiance spread out into the sky, illuminating the early evening clouds, and then flooded over the town and the surrounding countryside in waves as each chime rang. From where he stood Jasper could see the first shooting shaft of colour soaring across the land towards the stone circle on the hill where it seemed to explode against the tall stone in the centre, sending a fountain of every shade of orange, from yellow red to ochre with golden flashes in between – sending that fountain high into the sky to splash across the landscape and then softly fall away.

In that moment Jasper sensed that little hope was left.

‘Ring out wild bells, to a wild sky, ring out a slowly dying cause…’ sighed Tantamount.

‘Sometimes you’re so negative – do you know that?’

‘But now with reason, Jasper Scabbard!’ Aunt Hetty, at top of tower, called out to him below.

 ‘Ah, Madam Paragon. I should have expected to find you here. So the bells hold the power you needed. What a fool I was not to realise that, given all the aggravation that they have caused me and my men. The most simple member of my crew suspected it from the very first.’

‘Hindsight is a very valuable asset, Sir Jasper. Unfortunately it is never available when we need it most – before we are committed to the rash acts that so confound us. May I ask what you had in mind – trudging up here to the church?’

‘I had intended to stop the ringing of the bells but now, finding you in command, I sense my intentions may be frustrated.’

‘You’re so right – remember this?’ She leant out from the tower and waved her crystal pendulum in a circle above him, and then appeared to simply bless the churchyard below.

An orange glow simmered and then flamed within the yew trees as though fire was burning behind the dark green needles thickly cladding the many gnarled trunks and stems. Then skeins and coils and strands of coppery coloured wire writhed forth, some thick, some fine, but all rapidly encircling and binding Jasper’s men, not painfully tight but sufficiently restrictive so that they could no longer move. He alone was spared this indignity.

‘I see.’ sighed Jasper. ‘What next?’

‘Only one bell, Magnus the mighty, is not yet ringing but it is being set as we speak.. When that can be pealed then not only his power, but the power of the special Goldcaster Six Bob Change can be rung – you’ll enjoy that, I promise you!’

‘I very much doubt it. And pray tell me, why am I not encumbered with your magic copper coils, Madam Paragon?’

‘You already know my powers, Sir Jasper, your men do not, and I would not wish them to come to unnecessary harm by foolish actions before they realise their disadvantage.’

‘That consideration is appreciated. I saw some of your effects taking hold in the Market Square. I presume my men’s efforts there have been frustrated and our enterprise is now ended?’

‘Not quite yet, but the conclusion is inevitable. And I have not been responsible for any sorcery in the town. My nephew, Professor Paragon, has been in charge down there. No doubt chaos has reigned, but hopefully in our favour. What do you plan to do now Sir Jasper Scabbard?’

‘If you will permit me, I would like to see to the welfare of the rest of my men, pay my respects to your nephew, and if necessary go down fighting…’

‘I judged you rightly Jasper. Return to the town then.’

‘ “Wild horses on bended knees wouldn’t get me down there.” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘Please yourself, parrot. I thought better of you.’ snapped Aunt Hetty. ‘What if your master needs a cheering quote?’

‘I don’t blame you, Tantamount.’ said Jasper. ‘Normal conflicts are one thing, but hope-shattering phenomena are something else.’

‘But perhaps I’ll fly above you… Just in case.’

‘What about my men here?’

‘I give them back to you – Resolvere!’’ exclaimed Aunt Hetty.

The copper coils fell from his men, they staggered back, and then stood close to him, as though believing he could protect them from the witchcraft.

‘It seems we have been bested, lads.’ said Jasper. ‘I am going back to see if I can help the others. They must be having a tough time by now. You are free to try and reach the Leopard if you wish…’

‘Sod that Cap’n. If we go down, we all go down together…’

Working under considerable pressure and in hectic circumstances the Professor added more stalls…

RETRIBUTION UNLIMITED

‘Get your come-uppances here – They’re fresh, they’re ripe, they’re lovely, they’re well overdue. Only four groats a pound today, tuppunce a hundredweight. Here we are sir – want yours now do you? Certainly, my pleasure… That punch hard enough? Oh dear, we seem to have become recumbent.’

RUST NEVER SLEEPS

‘Come along gents – quality parts and service, swords sharpened, muskets mended, ramrods repaired, faulty flints fixed. What have we here? Oooh, well, I dunno, this cutlass is a model E isn’t it? Can’t get the flanges these days. Had it seen to before have we? By a cowboy by the look of it. Leave it with me – I’ll see what I can do.’

‘But I’m in a fight! I need it now!’

‘Best push off then, a bit sharpish – Look out! What a pity, too late…’

RENT A SWINEHERD – HIRE A MINION

‘No lobdoterels, no fartiplungants, no scrag buttocks. Villeins without vices, serfs without attitude. Get yer pliant peasants ‘ere. Milking and mucking out a speciality. Guaranteed entirely impotent – no inter species crossover likely. And, just in case, no wellingtons worn when stock in heat. New staff often required.’

‘Er, got any openings for ex-pirates? Just in case…’

‘Might have. Got any references? No? Well let me see your CV later.’

BUNNIES FROM HEAVEN

 ‘Breed for pleasure and profit. Healthy hutches for randy rabbits, confined but not denied. Buy two, have twenty before you blink. Ideal for the pensioned pirate – sweet little pets to entertain and bite the kiddies. When bored with that you can let ‘em loose to overwhelm a continent or chop ‘em up for the choicest of casseroles.’

‘Ta muchly mush, but I’m not retiring just yet.’

‘That’s what you think…’

McFERDY’S FAST FOOD

(In and out of you before you blink)

‘All vores catered for – herbi, carni, omni, – come one, come all,

fill your gut with rubbish here.’

‘I’m a vegan.’

‘No challenge. How’s about a Chef’s Special tasteless washing up water onion soup, slice of condensed smog cheese in a ghastly soggy bun with the usual vile gherkins, tasteless cardboard mini chips, and a pseudo strawberry shake to go?’

‘Er, no thanks – cheese comes from cows.’

‘Not mine don’t matey – it’s GM modified muck.’

‘Oh, no… I’ll give it a miss if you don’t mind.’

‘Our men are still getting hurt.’ fretted Professor Paragon. ‘We need something more effective to stop the fighting.’

‘Can’t you just turn them all to stone or something?’ said Mr Bagley.

‘It’s not that simple.’ snapped the Professor. ‘It would be all of them – including our lot. Ah, good – Ignatius has started to ring…’

A rose pink sheen and vivid scarlet beams now lit up the square with each new chime.

‘Just the ticket!’ said Professor Paragon. ‘We’ll distract them with entertainment and music.’ He snapped all his fingers at the scene before him. ‘ACROAMA!… MUSICA!…’

Suddenly the Professor and Mr Bagley were pushed aside as bright lights and gantries and backdrops and a stage appeared on the Town Hall steps.

‘Mind the cables sweetie, watch out for that camera… Can we check the sound level Jeremy? Lovely, lovely – that’s it babycakes. Everybody ready? O.K. darlings – break a leg. Pan with number four. And cuuuue – Joccy!….’

‘Well, hello, good evening, and once again welcome. I’m Jocular Banter – your genial host, and in a packed programme tonight I have as my guests the very best representatives of modern entertainment – yes, we have Stiff Pilchard and the Shudders with their views on the Coffee Bar culture, Slush Runway with his twinkling fingers giving it ‘Sidesaddle’ on his ivories, and our high spot this evening, all the way from the wonderful U S of A – yes, we have specially for you, alive and writhing, here in groovy Goldcaster, the great, the one and only, the King of Rock and Roll himself – Elbow Greasely!

‘No, no, No!’ shouted the Professor,waving his hands dismissively ‘INUTILIS! – DIVERSUS!’

The television chat show disappeared and the square was filled with festival. A full fledged hippie festival with light shows, strobes, acoustic guitars, multi-coloured robes, ropes of beads, afro wigs, half naked nutters lurching about, the smoke and smell of skunk spliffs wafting upwards, overflowing toilet tents, and mud and blood and a deafening din…

‘Yeah man, yeah… Dig that groovy chick… Moody the vibes… Way out… Get on down-oh, you are down… Cool, man, cool…’

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ sighed the Professor. ‘Please – not the ‘60s. Let’s try again…’ And the mini Woodstock was replaced by a disco in the Market Square.

‘Greetings pop pickers! Here we are again with all the latest sounds of the seventies. On the  hour, every hour – it’s happy hour with the DJ with the mostest. Fantabulous… Cringetastic… Grungemungous… Mould breaking discerama… That happening type feel dontcha think? Truly brill – hang loose. Howsabout that then guys ‘n gals, not ‘arf, me old mates. Stay bright, it’s all shite – this is your old fart Fluff saying tara for now, tara!’

‘Who is that?’ said Mr Bagley.

‘I have seen him before, but not in a century you’d like to be in. And yes, ‘tara’ it certainly is…’ He waved his hands about again and muttered angrily once more.

The DJ disappeared, and suddenly there was a bus stop, a cash point, traffic lights, No Waiting signs, telephone boxes, satellite dishes on the buildings, double yellow lines around the perimeter of the square, an ambulance with blue light flashing and siren blaring trying to make its way through the crowd, a police helicopter hovering overhead, and everybody present staring doubtfully at the mobile phones that had arrived in their hands.

The Pirates and defenders were totally bemused.

‘Where are we?’

‘Who are we?’

‘When are we?’

‘What’s going down man?’

‘It dat tall shaggy daddy – he’s biggin it with de voodoo jive, innit…’

‘Curses!’ exclaimed Professor Paragon. ‘It’s even further into the future.’

‘How many futures have you got?’ sighed Mr Bagley.

‘Far to many today it seems. I’m trying to get something they can relate to – preferably not bear baiting or cock fighting…’

Rathbone’s crew members were in fact now hardly hurting. With four bells ringing Professor Paragon at last was able to provide entertainment appropriate for all his audience.

The Boxing Booth proved popular as did the Try Your Strength stand, but the Ugliest Pirate competition was not such a success because they were all far too shy, (although Eustace was nearly persuaded to enter.) However the Music Hall was a great hit with pirates and defenders alike.

The stage appeared just as plump, trilby hatted comedian wearing a bright check suit strode on to a roll of drums and crashing cymbals.

‘Hello, hello, hello! My, what a lovely audience, I say what a lovely audience. Here we are again – the roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd… I really appreciate you coming here this afternoon – I really appreciate it. How did you both get away at the same time?

No, seriously – is he with you dear? Never mind, never mind, you’ve only got one of them – no, not you sir, not you. No, no – don’t mock. – it might be one of your own.

Now then, now then – do you want ‘em from the red book or do you want ‘em from the blue book? Oh, like that eh? Going to be one of those evenings. Righteo then, let’s talk about women – what do you mean, he does nothing else?

No, seriously, take my wife – please – no, no, no, be fair – married for forty years. Just goes to show – the human being can get used to anything. No, you see, I didn’t realise what a rotten cook she was. No, I didn’t. Not until last week – that was when the dustbins went on strike…

No, don’t laugh – Oh, you’re not laughing. (They’re all in tonight madam…)

No, listen, listen – It’s been a terrible week.. I’ve lost the wife. All together – Aaagh… Yes, lost her I have – she ran off with my best mate. Oh, I do miss him…

And that’s not all, no… You know our house is so damp we’ve got herrings breeding behind the sideboard? – No, it’s true… The old ones are the best ones missus, aren’t they? – Oh, – you’ve tried ‘em all have you?

No, really…Now I was going to finish with that famous Rogers and Hart song– ‘The beds are alive around at my Aunt Elsie’s….’ but no, no – I thought keep it light, so we ‘ll have a little number entitled ‘It may be only a brick built shed at the bottom of the garden to you but it’s a great relief for my little Willy.  Dance…’

Surprisingly light footed he tripped to and fro across the stage.

‘I’m in love with Mary from the dairy…. Good eh? Be honest – come on…’ Great applause.

‘Must love you and leave you now – Miller’s the name – laughter’s the game – there’ll never be another one lady, there’ll never be another… Aye thank you, thank you so very much…’

There was a standing ovation only subdued by a Master of Ceremonies.

‘And now, my lords, ladies, gentlemen, and those of an indeterminate gender, we have for your effervescent exultation… (Ooooh!), your ineffable euphoria… (Aaaagh!),  your contrapuntal cordiality… (Ooooh! again), the skylark of Shadwell, the song thrush of Stoke Newington, the linnet of Lambeth…’

‘The hen of Hackney?’

‘I shall ignore that. I give you your own, your very own, the one and only – yes –Miss Marie Lloyd!’

‘Hello, my darlings! Are you all enjoying yourselves?’ ‘YESSS!’

‘Do you want a good time tonight boys?’ ‘NOT ‘ARF!’ Huge applause.

‘Very well then, you cheeky lot!’ And away she went…

“I’m one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked abaht a bit… Abaht a bit!…”

“I’m in love with the boy in the gallery …”

“My old man said follow the van…”

“Put your hand out – you naughty boy…”

“Wiv a ladder and some glasses you could see across the marshes, if it wasn’t for the houses in between…”

‘And now, especially for those gallant lads, the crew of the Black Leopard, who’ve had it hard all day (and can it get harder boys? – you’d better believe it), that dear old favourite (and I don’t mean your Captain)… One you can all join in – all together now, just watch your little ball a-bouncing on the line…

“Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside, I do like to be beside the sea… (Come on, come on – let’s hear everybody…) I do like to walk along the Prom, Prom, Prom, with the brass band playing tiddly-om-pom-pom (pity you lost the instruments…)

The pirates were cheering and so were the townsfolk. In fact the only slightly jarring note was struck by Statler and Waldorf from the Muppet Show jeering from the Town Hall roof, and the presence of Kermit and Miss Piggy applauding from the edge of the stage.

* * *

Luther Speke was feeling increasingly frustrated because of his isolation from the proceedings in the town. One of the advantages of his position as Quartermaster was that generally, when action took place ashore, being in charge of resources and reserves he was most likely to be safe aboard and so was not as frequently exposed to personal danger as other members of the crew. No way was he a coward – he could hack and thrust and dismember and kill with sadistic satisfaction given half the chance, and had brought to desperate situations rage and skill that had turned near defeat into triumph in the past, but he preferred not to imperil himself unless absolutely necessary to preserve his interests.

After Rathbone’s men had left the quay for the Market Square and Sir Jasper and his party had gone off out of sight as well, he had no means of knowing what was happening.

Simmering with suspense, his worry wart almost bleeding, he had been drumming his fingers on the taffrail and grinding his teeth, when he heard the first bell chime. For a moment or two there had been an illusion of yellowness over everything – some trick of the light probably as the sun sank lower in the west. The sounds of fighting and cursing had come faintly across the water, but strangely no gunfire was heard nor smoke seen rising.

Then, as more bells began to peal, waves of different colours succeeded each other and the sounds of battle gave way to calls of market traders, bleating sheep, even a moo or two and a honking pig. Different types of music were heard, a strange whirring flying machine appeared briefly, and at last there was cheering, applause and loud singing before the din died away, and there was almost silence once again. But no sign of any of the crew coming back on to the quay nor, come to that, of any of the defenders. High up on the stern where he stood Speke chewed his nails and drummed his fingers on the rail. So, the bells had been not only taken to the church but re-hung and rung. And something decidedly odd had been going down out of sight. Amongst the invalids he had on board there were mutterings about magic and fearful forebodings, as they stared with anxious eyes across the harbour.

At that moment four sad creatures could be seen edging their way furtively along the wall of the road at the north of the quay, squeezing themselves under and around the obstacle of the steam machine, scrambling as best they could over the remains of the barricade, and then crawling quickly across the open cobblestones and slipping down the steps and into the longboat.

It was obvious that they had some difficulty rowing as the vessel lurched over towards the Black Leopard.

‘Get round to the port side – out of sight!’ hissed Speke

With many groans and curses Steelclaw Hawkins, Blackheart Luke, Mad Max Murgatroyd, and Haroun the Damned, climbed up on board.

‘What the hell is happening?’ snarled Speke.

‘Magic ! Gunpowder turned to pepper – chaos everywhere. Market stalls, fantastic sights, fearful sounds… Overwatsit odds. We pretended dead. Then, when all watching stage show – crawled down alley, got away…’

‘I’ve been clubbed.’ complained Haroun. ‘I think my shoulder’s broken.’

‘My thigh was badly gashed.’ said Mad Max. ‘I think it was that Boswell bloke.’

‘Couldn’t have been.’ said Speke. ‘What happened to you two?’

‘Huge thugs.’ growled Steelclaw.

‘Bloody trolls, more like.’ moaned Blackheart.

‘I didn’t like what I heard…’ said Haroun.

‘What was that then?’

‘One of them in charge shouted “Don’t disable them – they’ve got a lot of work to do!” ‘

‘Bloody confident. Sounds as though they knew what the outcome would be. Where are the First Mate and the others?’

‘Struck down by magic by now I expect.’

‘What about the Captain and those with him?’

‘No idea.’

‘The tides making.’ said Steelclaw. ‘Why don’t we up anchor and away?’

‘What about the rest of the crew?’ said Haroun.

‘Sod ‘em!’ said Blackheart.

‘And who’s fit enough to man the capstan, hoist eight sails, and get offshore so fast the shitizens won’t know we’ve gone?’ snarled Speke. ‘Even with you lot we’ve only eleven men on board and all except Tadmartin and the Cook are disabled, some quite badly. And what about these powers the enemy have obviously now got? Do you know how far they reach? Just within their eyesight? As far as the shore or the mountains? Or out across the sea and over the edge of the horizon? The only thing we do know is that we’re buggered. Best most of you get right down below out of sight until we find out more. I don’t want to aggravate them. Steelclaw, Blackheart, and er, you – MacCroon and Murgatroyd – stay with me – I’ve got work for you.’

‘Right,’ he said when the rest of the crew aboard had gone below. ‘I don’t know what the enemy have got in store for us, but I’m not staying to find out. Here’s the plan…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

Amazing Scenes in the Square

 ‘What can I do to help?’ asked Tom.

‘’Not get scrobbled again.’ snapped Elisabeth, impatiently waiting for Abelard to be set ready for ringing.

‘You could make us some tea, Tom.’ said Mr Trundle. ‘Ringing tonight is going to be thirsty work.’

‘And a jug or two of cider wouldn’t go amiss.’ said one of the helpers. ‘There’s a barrel in the vestry.’

No wonder the bell ringers are such a happy bunch, thought Elisabeth. ‘How close are we to being able to ring Abelard, Aunt Hetty?’ she called up the tower.

‘How close? I’ll tell you how festering close I am girl… No I won’t, you’re still too young for such language. The doobry’s seized against the wafflegambit or something. Whatever it’s called, it’s giving us gip in the belfry. These blasted buccaneers are a cak-handed bunch – they’ve left a hell of mess behind. Keep ringing Godolphin Mr T – I need all the help I can get.’

‘I had hoped to have sufficient power by now to be able to avoid the shedding of blood.’ grumbled Professor Paragon, down in the Market Square.

‘I don’t mind that too much, as long as it’s not ours that’s shed.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘But we have to consider what we hope will follow this confrontation. We want the pirates to return what they have stolen and make good the damage they have done – not to have them malingering on stretchers or clogging up your church yard with their graves.’

The pikes and spears were surprisingly effective at keeping the pirates at arm’s length, and Will Nudd, bellowing in a voice like a rutting elk, was setting about them with an oaken club.

Boswell and Umbrage emerged from the narrow lane at the other end of which Berengaria still blocked the main road leading to the forge. They came up behind the pirates and Umbrage cut Hawser Trunnion’s belt with his dagger. Trunnion whirled round and Boswell used his rapier to slit both his braces. Trunnion’s baggy breeches then fell down and he dropped his cutlass as he tried to hold them up. Unable to walk properly he staggered for a moment and then fell as Umbrage kicked his legs and pushed him on to the cobbles. They rolled him over and trussed him up with his own braces, bundled him into a doorway and left him with his breeches still down around his ankles and his kerchief stuffed in his mouth to shut him up.

Despite their warlike appearance several of Rathbone’s men were still not fully recovered from Aunt Hetty’s lunchtime specials, and those whom Berengaria had driven into the harbour were still slippery of foot and sodden of shirt, so the fighting was not totally one sided.

Boswell attacked with light and fancy sword play, pricking and nicking several pirates, whilst Umbrage nipped around Boswell’s targets, teasing and confusing them, and shouting encouragement to the other defenders. ‘Go to it, lads! Bash the bleeders! Bonk the berks! Kick ‘em in the crunchables!

And so it went…

‘Who are you then?’

‘I’m Haroun the damned.’

‘You are now, matey – try that for size.’

‘The enemy am fighting back.’ complained Eustace.

‘That’s alright.’ said Rathbone. ‘They’re allowed to – it’s in their job description. Look out…’

‘Hello, I remember you – you’re the ducky one, aren’t you?’

‘Watch it, you saucebox. You must tell me how you got out of that cellar when this is over. How’ve you been managing?’

‘Oh, you know, mustn’t grumble – bit of a forced holiday in the woods. Wife and kids went up High Summerdale to stay with the mother-in-law, so I had a bit of peace for a change. How’s about yourself?’

‘Oh, my dear, you wouldn’t believe the problems we’ve had…’

‘Do you mind?’ bellowed Rathbone. ‘This is a punch up, not a party – belt the bugger.’

‘Just a cotton pickin’ second here…’

‘You’m saying dem words jus ‘cos me’s a black man innit? Racist you – No respec’…’

‘Sorry – no offence meant. Take that instead…’

‘Aw, shucks…’

Steelclaw Hawkins and Blackheart Luke were pinned in a corner by two of the Bashem brothers.

‘Urrgh, Urrgh.’

‘Sterrrewth!’

‘Urrgh, Urrgh!’

‘Jesus wept!’

‘Urrgh, Urrgh!’

‘Ouch!’ ‘Aaah!’ ‘Ohhh!’ ‘XXXXing XXXX!’

‘Urrgh, Urrgh, Urrgh!’

…and then both were laid low by fist related face disorders and multiple mangling.

Jasper had paused on the rising ground at the point where the road forked. Up the track it wound through the trees leading to the church, but carrying on before him the way sloped down again to pass around the back of the town.

Above, huge yew trees obscured the churchyard entrance where the brewer’s dray now stood out of sight near the lych gate, with the bells still being unloaded.

But looking down into the town Jasper could see into the Market Square rather well. He could not see the archers in the south west corner who were hidden by a building. And neither could he see Professor Paragon nor Mr Bagley who were shielded from his sight by the pillars of the portico of the Town Hall entrance. And he couldn’t see the Bashem brothers either. At first they had only stood in the north east entrance to the Square and now were mixed in with the confused melee below. But he had clearly seen the charge lead by Rathbone and the mayhem that ensued.

‘ “All day long the noise of battle rolled…” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘I do so hope not.’ said Jasper. Well, Rathbone was certainly getting stuck in. He hadn’t heard any gunfire or seen any smoke but that was as all too the good. Needless slaughter would be best avoided if objectives could be achieved without it. In fact he was feeling increasingly concerned about the inhabitants of Summerdale…

‘The pirates are more agile than us.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘There is too much room for them to chase our men and dodge the stronger ones. If only it were market day – the whole square would be crammed full of stalls and they wouldn’t know which way to turn. We would have a definite advantage then. Ah, that’s the half hour bell ringing now – can you do any more with that to help?’

‘Of course I can.’ snapped Professor Paragon, clapping his hands as Abelard’s silvery blue haze pulsed over the rooftops and across the cobblestones. From the recesses of his cloak he brought out a handful of sapphire and turquoise crystals.

‘Market day, you suggest? Very well, so be it…’ He rubbed the crystals together in his hands and then threw them high out above the fighting throng to shatter into thousands of slithers of light as he cried out ‘MACELLUM FACERE!’’

Jasper had just started to move off on the route that would take him to the forge, when he heard the second bell begin to ring out and found himself and his men illuminated by the azure waves of sound, passing over him and across the town, deep dark blue shot with silver sparks within the shadows of the buildings, and sky blue with frosty streaks where the bright sunlight still shone.

At the foot of the hill, within the market square, the whole complexion of the battle changed. Suddenly tradesmen and pedlars were now joining the combatants, and stalls and canopies appeared, with carts and panniers full of wool, of hops, and of fruit and vegetable produce. Even a few sheep and goats and a rather bemused cow and an inquisitive pig were now present. More and more complications materialised before him, clearly linked with each chiming of the two bells now ringing, even though the colours had now ebbed away.

So that was the power the witch had wanted! The blasted bells were magic, but had to be rung before they could work. A market to hinder movement was a nuisance, but what next might she next accomplish given her performance before?’

‘ “And the clash and the boom of the bells rang into the heart and the brain.” ‘ complained Tantamount.

‘Indeed, and damnation!’ snarled Jasper. ‘Change of plan, men. Never mind the forge – we’re going to the church. It’s vital that we stop the bells already there from ringing any more!’

Jasper arrived at the church yard to find the empty brewers dray abandoned behind the yews, and the great cart horses grazing in the field behind the church.

As he rode through the lych gate a new note rang out from the tower above. Now Calabar, the second largest bell, was free to peal once more. Orange and amber radiance spread out into the sky, illuminating the early evening clouds, and then flooded over the town and the surrounding countryside in waves as each chime rang. From where he stood Jasper could see the first shooting shaft of colour soaring across the land towards the stone circle on the hill where it seemed to explode against the tall stone in the centre, sending a fountain of every shade of orange, from yellow red to ochre with golden flashes in between – sending that fountain high into the sky to splash across the landscape and then softly fall away.

In that moment Jasper sensed that little hope was left.

‘ “Ring out wild bells, to a wild sky, ring out a slowly dying cause…” ‘ sighed Tantamount.

‘Sometimes you’re so negative – do you know that?’

‘But now with reason, Jasper Scabbard!’ Aunt Hetty, at top of tower, called out to him below.

‘Ah, Madam Paragon. I should have expected to find you here. So the bells hold the power you needed. What a fool I was not to realise that, given all the aggravation that they have caused me and my men. The most simple member of my crew suspected it from the very first.’

‘Hindsight is a very valuable asset, Sir Jasper. Unfortunately it is never available when we need it most – before we are committed to the rash acts that so confound us. May I ask what you had in mind – trudging up here to the church?’

‘I had intended to stop the ringing of the bells but now, finding you in command, I sense my intentions may be frustrated.’

‘You’re so right – remember this?’ She leant out from the tower and waved her crystal pendulum in a circle above him, and then appeared to simply bless the churchyard below.

An orange glow simmered and then flamed within the yew trees as though fire was burning behind the dark green needles thickly cladding the many gnarled trunks and stems. Then skeins and coils and strands of coppery coloured wire writhed forth, some thick, some fine, but all rapidly encircling and binding Jasper’s men, not painfully tight but sufficiently restrictive so that they could no longer move. He alone was spared this indignity.

‘I see.’ sighed Jasper. ‘What next?’

‘Only one bell, Magnus the mighty, is not yet ringing but it is being set as we speak.. When that can be pealed then not only his power, but the power of the special Goldcaster Six Bob Change can be rung – you’ll enjoy that, I promise you!’

‘I very much doubt it. And pray tell me, why am I not encumbered with your magic copper coils, Madam Paragon?’

‘You already know my powers, Sir Jasper, your men do not, and I would not wish them to come to unnecessary harm by foolish actions before they realise their disadvantage.’

‘That consideration is appreciated. I saw some of your effects taking hold in the Market Square. I presume my men’s efforts there have been frustrated and our enterprise is now ended?’

‘Not quite yet, but the conclusion is inevitable. And I have not been responsible for any sorcery in the town. My nephew, Professor Paragon, has been in charge down there. No doubt chaos has reigned, but hopefully in our favour. What do you plan to do now Sir Jasper Scabbard?’

‘If you will permit me, I would like to see to the welfare of the rest of my men, pay my respects to your nephew, and if necessary go down fighting…’

‘I judged you rightly Jasper. Return to the town then.’

‘ “Wild horses on bended knees wouldn’t get me down there.” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘Please yourself, parrot. I thought better of you.’ snapped Aunt Hetty. ‘What if your master needs a cheering quote?’

‘I don’t blame you, Tantamount.’ said Jasper. ‘Normal conflicts are one thing, but hope-shattering phenomena are something else.’

‘But perhaps I’ll fly above you… Just in case.’

‘What about my men here?’

‘I give them back to you – Resolvere!’’ exclaimed Aunt Hetty.

The copper coils fell from his men, they staggered back, and then stood close to him, as though believing he could protect them from the witchcraft.

‘It seems we have been bested, lads.’ said Jasper. ‘I am going back to see if I can help the others. They must be having a tough time by now. You are free to try and reach the Leopard if you wish…’

‘Sod that Cap’n. If we go down, we all go down together…’

Working under considerable pressure and in hectic circumstances the Professor added more stalls…

RETRIBUTION UNLIMITED

‘Get your come-uppances here – They’re fresh, they’re ripe, they’re lovely, they’re well overdue. Only four groats a pound today, tuppunce a hundredweight. Here we are sir – want yours now do you? Certainly, my pleasure… That punch hard enough? Oh dear, we seem to have become recumbent.’

RUST NEVER SLEEPS

‘Come along gents – quality parts and service, swords sharpened, muskets mended, ramrods repaired, faulty flints fixed. What have we here? Oooh, well, I dunno, this cutlass is a model E isn’t it? Can’t get the flanges these days. Had it seen to before have we? By a cowboy by the look of it. Leave it with me – I’ll see what I can do.’

‘But I’m in a fight! I need it now!’

‘Best push off then, a bit sharpish – Look out! What a pity, too late…’

RENT A SWINEHERD – HIRE A MINION

‘No lobdoterels, no fartiplungants, no scrag buttocks. Villeins without vices, serfs without attitude. Get yer pliant peasants ‘ere. Milking and mucking out a speciality. Guaranteed entirely impotent – no inter species crossover likely. And, just in case, no wellingtons worn when stock in heat. New staff often required.’

‘Er, got any openings for ex-pirates? Just in case…’

‘Might have. Got any references? No? Well let me see your CV later.’

BUNNIES FROM HEAVEN

‘Breed for pleasure and profit. Healthy hutches for randy rabbits, confined but not denied. Buy two, have twenty before you blink. Ideal for the pensioned pirate – sweet little pets to entertain and bite the kiddies. When bored with that you can let ‘em loose to overwhelm a continent or chop ‘em up for the choicest of casseroles.’

‘Ta muchly mush, but I’m not retiring just yet.’

‘That’s what you think…’

McFERDY’S FAST FOOD

(In and out of you before you blink)

‘All vores catered for – herbi, carni, omni, – come one, come all,

fill your gut with rubbish here.’

‘I’m a vegan.’

‘No challenge. How’s about a Chef’s Special tasteless washing up water onion soup, slice of condensed smog cheese in a ghastly soggy bun with the usual vile gherkins, tasteless cardboard mini chips, and a pseudo strawberry shake to go?’

‘Er, no thanks – cheese comes from cows.’

‘Not mine don’t matey – it’s GM modified muck.’

‘Oh, no… I’ll give it a miss if you don’t mind.’

‘Our men are still getting hurt.’ fretted Professor Paragon. ‘We need something more effective to stop the fighting.’

‘Can’t you just turn them all to stone or something?’ said Mr Bagley.

‘It’s not that simple.’ snapped the Professor. ‘It would be all of them – including our lot. Ah, good – Ignatius has started to ring…’

A rose pink sheen and vivid scarlet beams now lit up the square with each new chime.

‘Just the ticket!’ said Professor Paragon. ‘We’ll distract them with entertainment and music.’ He snapped all his fingers at the scene before him. ‘ACROAMA!… MUSICA!…’

Suddenly the Professor and Mr Bagley were pushed aside as bright lights and gantries and backdrops and a stage appeared on the Town Hall steps.

‘Mind the cables sweetie, watch out for that camera… Can we check the sound level Jeremy? Lovely, lovely – that’s it babycakes. Everybody ready? O.K. darlings – break a leg. Pan with number four. And cuuuue – Joccy!….’

‘Well, hello, good evening, and once again welcome. I’m Jocular Banter – your genial host, and in a packed programme tonight I have as my guests the very best representatives of modern entertainment – yes, we have Stiff Pilchard and the Shudders with their views on the Coffee Bar culture, Slush Runway with his twinkling fingers giving it ‘Sidesaddle’ on his ivories, and our high spot this evening, all the way from the wonderful U S of A – yes, we have specially for you, alive and writhing, here in groovy Goldcaster, the great, the one and only, the King of Rock and Roll himself – Elbow Greasely!

‘No, no, No!’ shouted the Professor,waving his hands dismissively ‘INUTILIS! – DIVERSUS!’

The television chat show disappeared and the square was filled with festival. A full fledged hippie festival with light shows, strobes, acoustic guitars, multi-coloured robes, ropes of beads, afro wigs, half naked nutters lurching about, the smoke and smell of skunk spliffs wafting upwards, overflowing toilet tents, and mud and blood and a deafening din…

‘Yeah man, yeah… Dig that groovy chick… Moody the vibes… Way out… Get on down-oh, you are down… Cool, man, cool…’

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ sighed the Professor. ‘Please – not the ‘60s. Let’s try again…’ And the mini Woodstock was replaced by a disco in the Market Square.

‘Greetings pop pickers! Here we are again with all the latest sounds of the seventies. On the  hour, every hour – it’s happy hour with the DJ with the mostest. Fantabulous… Cringetastic… Grungemungous… Mould breaking discerama… That happening type feel dontcha think? Truly brill – hang loose. Howsabout that then guys ‘n gals, not ‘arf, me old mates. Stay bright, it’s all shite – this is your old fart Fluff saying tara for now, tara!’

‘Who is that?’ said Mr Bagley.

‘I have seen him before, but not in a century you’d like to be in. And yes, ‘tara’ it certainly is…’ He waved his hands about again and muttered angrily once more.

The DJ disappeared, and suddenly there was a bus stop, a cash point, traffic lights, No Waiting signs, telephone boxes, satellite dishes on the buildings, double yellow lines around the perimeter of the square, an ambulance with blue light flashing and siren blaring trying to make its way through the crowd, a police helicopter hovering overhead, and everybody present staring doubtfully at the mobile phones that had arrived in their hands.

The Pirates and defenders were totally bemused.

‘Where are we?’

‘Who are we?’

‘When are we?’

‘What’s going down man?’

‘It dat tall shaggy daddy – he’s biggin it with de voodoo jive, innit…’

‘Curses!’ exclaimed Professor Paragon. ‘It’s even further into the future.’

‘How many futures have you got?’ sighed Mr Bagley.

‘Far to many today it seems. I’m trying to get something they can relate to – preferably not bear baiting or cock fighting…

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

The Confrontation

There was a moment’s pause, and then the armoured door on the left hand side of Berengaria swung open.

James Boswell jumped down on to the quay. He coughed, straightened his hat and adjusted a sword belt from which hung a his rusty borrowed rapier. He then walked slowly and as confidently as possible towards the trio facing him. His task was initially to present a bold front and then to appear to succumb to Sir Jasper’s demands once Tom had been brought out in to the open.

Both he and Jasper bowed low to each other.

‘Well now, Mr Boswell. This really is a surprise. So you managed to escape from the island and join my enemies. I suppose that you have brought your experience and expertise to bear upon their predicament, and it is you I have to thank for this temporary setback to my plans?’

‘I have merely made a modest contribution to their efforts.’

‘And Doctor Johnson – is he well? I nearly said safe and sound, but now I have returned none of you are safe…’

‘Doctor Johnson was in good health when last I saw him, but he is elsewhere beyond your reach. As to our situation, we are very strong and the Militia will shortly be in the town. We know you have young Tom Trundle as I saw him in one of the boats approaching the quay. Return him to us now and we will permit you to leave forthwith to avoid capture.’

‘I think not sir. But that was quite good. Unless the Militia of which you speak are able to fly they could not be here before tomorrow night at the earliest even if your messenger sprang into action as soon as we landed on Monday. With regard to your strength, we have met your friends before and they put up a very feeble fight. Admittedly they were somewhat unprepared for our attack, but I doubt if any further action would have a different result. We are physically very strong, highly disciplined, our whole life is lived in continuous preparation for action and battle, we are braced by long familiarity with danger, and all our offensive movements have the precision of clockwork.’

(‘Who’s ‘ee talking about?’ whispered Eustace.

‘Us, you pillock.’ hissed Rathbone.)

‘We are also thoroughly armed, rather hungry, and not in the best of tempers.’ continued Jasper. ‘I would like to minimise customer dis-benefit, but if you do not do as I say we shall bombard the buildings on the quay and demolish them, slaughter any of you who do not flee, and slit the boy’s throat before securing the bells anyway. I can’t say fairer than that can I? Do I make myself clear?’

‘Er, yes. Perfectly clear. What then are your demands?’

‘Your people will construct a raft to the design and specifications that we have already prepared, you will bring the bells down to the quay from the forge, you will load them for us to transfer to my ship, you will endure supervision of these tasks by my men, and you will provide torch brands and lanterns so as to work through the night if necessary. Once the bells are aboard the boy will be returned, (unharmed if you obey our instructions implicitly) and we will sail off. Is that understood?’

‘Oh yes. With one proviso.’

‘What?’

‘I shall need to see and speak with Tom Trundle so that I can assure my colleagues that he is well. I think that not unreasonable?’

‘No, no, of course not. I was about to bring him forth myself.’ Jasper called down to Rathbone. ‘Mr Mate – be so kind as to bring young Master Trundle up on to the quay… Here we are Mr Boswell. This young man is safe and sound, aren’t you Tom?’

‘Oh, yes sir.’

‘Are you really alright Tom?’

‘Oh yes, Mr Boswell. I was scared of Mr Speke, but Spud looked after me and Mr Rathbone and Sir Jasper are very kind.’

‘Enough of that.’ snapped Jasper. ‘Tom is concerned about his sister and his parents. I have assured him that as far as I am aware they are well, but perhaps you can confirm that Mr Boswell?’

‘Oh yes.’ said Boswell. ‘We are –er- constantly in touch with them, and they are fine. Now I must return to our friends to give them their instructions. I have to fetch certain people to show them that you are unharmed and see that what I say is correct , so if you could stay with Sir Jasper on the quay for a minute or two, Tom… Would that be convenient Sir Jasper?’

‘I suppose so. But get a move on would you? I’d rather like to catch the morning tide.’

‘Of course, of course.’ said Boswell, removing his hat and smoothing his hair back. ‘What a relief to find him unhurt. Right, I’ll be off then. I will return presently with the leaders and then we can all get started on our tasks…’

The moment Boswell signalled by removing his hat Barney shot through the lane that lead into the Market square and waved to Will Nudd who was peering over the parapet of the Town Hall. Will scrambled up to the top of the roof and raised the Goldcaster Flag.

On the top of the tower of St.Jocelyn Without Professor Paragon rubbed his hands together, raised a similar flag, and then climbed back into the belfry and called down to the bell ringer waiting with the bell rope in his hands. ‘Right Mr Trundle – Tom is on the quay with Scabbard. Start ringing Godolphin please…’

‘Look!’ said Elisabeth. ‘The flag has gone up on the church tower. And you were right – there is colour…’

A golden glow began to spill out from the church, lighting first the churchyard and the hillside on which it stood, and then, as the sound of the bell began to reach them, spreading across the rolling pastures, farmsteads, woodland, lanes – spreading, spreading, spreading, – pulses of rich yellow with every chime, as though little Godolphin was rejoicing in the glad renewal of its power.

The colour became more diffused and lighter over the countryside, but then seemed to tighten into a golden stream which flowed out along the ley line, surging up into the stone circle, splashing on to the Tingle Stone, and bathing all the other stones in a honey and primrose haze, before easing and fading gently away again.

‘That’s a bit more like it.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Place your ear close to the stone, Elisabeth. What do you hear?’

‘Why, the whole stone is humming – it’s giving off the same note as the bell…’

‘Exactly. It’s picking up the sound of the signal and drawing the matching energy from out of the earth.’ Now we’re really cooking…’ Then she stroked her broomstick against the Tingle Stone and worked the throttle as it coughed and spluttered into life. There were two loud backfires and a puff of smoke from the bristle end, and then just a rather contented purring noise with an occasional hiccup.

‘Stick with me, Rockall.’ said Aunt Hetty, and then turned to Mr Bagley. ‘Will you look after Arnold, Mr Mayor?’ She didn’t wait for the answer but put the toad in his top coat pocket. ‘Right.’ she said. ‘I’m off – see you later.’

She snapped down the visor of her witch’s helmet and took off, rather jerkily at first, but then with considerable skill as she circled the stone circle once to ensure all was well, and then shot away down towards Goldcaster, with Elisabeth on the pony, and Mr Bagley on Horace the donkey and in charge of Arnold, cantering down the hill behind her.

‘Hell’s toenails!’ snarled Jasper, as the chimes echoed down the Quay. ‘They’ve actually re-hung one of the bells. All hands from the boats out and on to the quay – we’ll go to the forge to secure the others. Mr Mate – you take the men behind the barricade and attack from the north side. I’ll take the rest south and work around the houses to cut them off in case any of the other bells are being moved up to the church. Tom, you come with me – your friends know now not to offer any resistance whilst you are in my grasp. What the devil?…’

In order to maintain surprise Aunt Hetty had swooped into Goldcaster through the back lanes and alleys, swerving and twisting, ducking under arches with her cloak brushing the walls, skidding around corners, and zooming at last through the Market Square with a genial wave to the open mouthed townsfolk hiding in the corners. Now she shot out of the lane that lead to the quay just as the pirates from the boats poured on to it.

‘Out of the way, you buffoons!’ she screeched, peering about for Tom amongst the pirate horde. She soared up to get a better view and then saw him near the Harbour Inn holding Sir Jasper’s hand.

‘Geronimo already!’ she cried, swooping down on Jasper and snatching off his hat. Instinctively he reached up both hands and held on to his head.

‘So…’ screamed Aunt Hetty. ‘It’s a wig is it? Well, we’ll have that off too..’ and she twitched off the thick, long, bright red, beautifully curled locks to fall amongst the fish scales on the cobbles.

‘Bad hair day, Sir Jasper? Quick, Tom, get up behind me – hold on tight… Here we go…’

She shot off again along the quay, pirates falling back on either side, and bumping the bristles on the ground a bit until she got used to the extra weight, but then soaring up and over the warehouses and away with futile pistol shots echoing behind her.

The Gullnet quickly spread the news of Tom’s rescue to all concerned.

Rockall carried the report to Doctor Johnson and Fastnet. ‘Aunt Hetty has taken him to the church and she will soon be hanging the second bell. The power is getting stronger all the time. She has even got the ropes re-splicing themselves, and the fixings and brackets and pulleys and things all snapping into place, and bits and pieces screwing up and clamping down, and heaven knows what else – it’s like bedlam in that belfry.’

‘How soon will the other bells be at the church?’ asked Doctor Johnson’

‘They are on the brewer’s dray and being towed up the hill right now.’ said Biscay.

‘And the Professor?’ asked Fastnet.

‘Now Aunt Hetty is at the church, he is hurrying down to the Town Hall to join the Mayor who will be arriving any minute.’ said Portland.

‘Good, good, very good.’ said Doctor Johnson. ‘But what are the pirates doing?’

‘They are still recovering from Aunt Hetty.’ said Malin. ‘Having a bit of a conference on the quay. But Mr Boswell and Umbrage on the traction engine are about to give them a bit of a surprise…

‘That was the Black Hag of the Valley, wasn’t it?’ said Rathbone. ‘The one who gave us the trots. So she really is a witch…’

‘I am afraid she is.’ sighed Jasper, picking up his wig and hat.

‘And she can fly – on a bloody broomstick and all, can’t she?’

‘It appears so, yes.’

‘ “There I stood and humbly scanned the miracle that sense appals.” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘And I suppose the blasted bells are bewitched and the sodding seagulls can talk and we’re all going to be turned into toads any minute…?’

‘ “That old Black Magic has me in its spell…” ’ sung Tantamount.

‘Shut up!’ snapped Jasper. ‘I think turning into toads is unlikely. Using a her own broomstick is one thing, but from what I gathered when talking with her earlier – yes, I have met her as well – she needs some special power or help for greater effects and I believe that is not yet available to her here. Otherwise, rather than her making that rather risky solo attack just now in order to rescue young Tom Trundle, we would have all been struck down or otherwise incapacitated.’

‘So what are we going to do Cap’n’

‘Well our operational strategies may have to be re-calibrated if tangible contra resource effects superiorise.’

‘Pardon?’

‘We may have to change our plans if she gets help. But I still think we should go and get the rest of the bells from the forge – there is a hell of a lot of gold at stake. We will just have to fight for them now the hostage has escaped.’

‘Fair enough.’ Rathbone turned to the crew. ‘Did you here that you lot? We’re going to thrash the buggers and get the bells now – never mind some old crone with a death wish. She’s well gone anyway.’

‘I do so hope so.’ said Morry. ‘She gave me quite a turn.’

‘Let’s get on with it then.’ said Archibald.

‘Certainly.’ said Clarence. ‘But what do we do about that…?’

Hooting loudly and belching out smoke and steam, Berengaria was now thundering down the quay towards them.

‘Hold your fire!’ ordered Jasper. ‘It’s armoured. Don’t waste ammunition. Bunch along the edge of the quay. They may try to run you down but if you jump out of the way the damn thing may tip into the harbour…’

But Umbrage was apparently not to be lured from a straight course down the quay. At least not until he was passing the pirates standing along the edge. He then lurched towards them, spitting venom and curses, and several had to jump into the water to avoid being crushed. Cackling loudly he steered away again and headed for the barricade, smashing into it before the cannon could be fired, and demolishing it completely as the pirates stationed there scrambled for safety. He then manoeuvred to a halt in the lane at that end of the quay, puffing out steam and smoke, and completely blocking the most direct route up to the forge.

‘Oh, very handy.’ snapped Jasper, calming his horse as the soaking wet pirates scrambled back on to the quay.

‘No problem.’ said Rathbone. ‘I’ll just make my way up through the Market Square.’

‘Well I rather think that’s what they want. We could have the main confrontation there. So I’d better take that responsibility.’

‘Er, I don’t agree Captain. After all it won’t be much of a scrap. We’re armed to the hilt. They had to give back the guns they captured earlier and it’s unlikely they have more than one or two old blunderbusses – and look what happened last time? And if they had proper arms those look-outs in these buildings along the quay would be having pot shots at us by now. And if you were leading and they got lucky in the melee we could lose you and then everything would fall apart. You’re indispensable, I’m not, neither are any of the rest of us. Besides, if you go round the south of the town as planned you’ll be on the higher ground and be able to see the road up to the church, and what’s going down elsewhere, and judge what’s best as we get on.’

Jasper looked around at his men. Apart from the Quartermaster and the mainly injured hands left on the Leopard, the rest of the crew were on the quay – forty of them including himself, every one bristling with primed pistols, loaded muskets or carbines, cutlasses, swords, dirks, daggers, even a mace or two. Yes, a well experienced, thoroughly trained, and highly formidable force – some now very wet, yes, and trailing strands of seaweed certainly, but all definitely formidable.

‘Very well Mr Mate, and thank you for that assessment, though not even I am totally indispensable. But you had better take most of the men. I’ll just have a dozen to go around the back. And be very careful. And Tantamount – you had best fly back to the ship out of harm’s way now there’s likely to be a fight.’

‘No more leaving behind.’ said Tantamount. ‘ “Loyalty is still the same, whether win or lose the game.” I fly with you.’

‘There you go Sir J.’ said Rathbone. ‘Ideal pet for a pirate, that parrot.’

‘Thank you Sir Tantamount.’ said Jasper. ‘I am most touched.’

‘Not a pet!’ hissed Tantamount.

‘Sorry.’ said Rathbone. ‘I meant companion.’

* * *

‘No, no, gibbetting NO!’ screeched Aunt Hetty. ‘Abelard hangs on the left of Godolphin. And when, if ever, we get the others, Magnus hangs on the left of Abelard, Ignatius hangs on the right of Godolphin, and Calabar on the right of him. I thought everybody knew that… Where did you get these oafs from?’

‘Well they’re not all bell ringers, Mistress Paragon.’ said Elisabeth’s father. ‘I thought we’d best have strong men in here first to get the bells set.’

‘Oh, well, fair enough then. Sorry lads – you’re doing fine – Mind me broomstick!’

‘Why is they in that order Missis?’

‘Tell him please Mr T. I must get on with a bit of background spelling up here.’

‘It’s the order of the change you see, the ringing change for the master power – “Doh, Soh, Fah, Ray, Me.” – the Strike notes A, D, E, B, C – Up and down and up the scale to make the special phrase.’

‘I don’t think you’re getting through to him Mr Trundle. Never mind the notation of rhythm and the tonic sol-fa and all that cobblers. Listen my son – I’ve told you how the bells hang, so reading from left to right, take the first letter of the name of each of the bells, and it spells out what we’re all about today –M, A,G,I,C. Now I really must get on. Oh, hello Elisabeth. Well done girl, you’ll be ringing Abelard as soon as we’ve got it hung properly. And I think your dad could do with a hug.’

On board the Black Leopard Luther Speke was becoming increasingly concerned. He had been below when Aunt Hetty had rescued Tom, and on returning to the deck. he could not understand why an attack had not been launched. Now the steam machine had demolished the barricade and still the pirates had not responded. It was not like Scabbard to dither about, and besides, they were all very vulnerable, grouped close together there on the Quay.

At last Jasper mounted his horse and was moving off south with a rather small band of men whilst the main body were now cramming tightly into the lane leading to the Market Square. Bad tactics, thought the Quartermaster – I hope they know what they’re doing…

Rathbone was well aware of the possible danger He entered the Market Square with only Archibald, Clarence, and Morry behind him, leaving the rest of his party for the moment safe in the lane leading from the quay.

At first the square appeared deserted, with the chimes of a single church bell clearly echoing around the buildings, but then three figures emerged from the Town Hall and stood on the steps. Mr Bagley, now draped with his chain of office and wearing an scarlet velvet edged long coat, appeared familiar, but the dapper little plump man wearing a pork pie hat and the tall country gentleman with the trim beard and the very severe expression were strangers to him.

‘The tall geezer with the face fungus doesn’t look as though he’d be much good in a ruckus.’ said Archibald. ‘And who’s the prat in the hat?’

‘No idea.’ said Rathbone.

Barney left Mr Bagley and Professor Paragon and stepped down on to the cobbles. He signalled to either side of the square and several townsfolk emerged from various doorways and alleys and joined him in front of the Town Hall. Although carrying wooden clubs, sickles, one or two axes, and even ancient halberds, pikes, and spears, none of them had guns. Still no one spoke.

Rathbone waved forward a further dozen of his own men out of the lane.

Barney gave a whistle and more defenders appeared, blocking the south of the square. Still no guns, but rather ominously thought Rathbone, three of them had bows with quivers of arrows slung over their shoulders.

‘We’ll have to shoot them first.’ said Archibald.

‘Or get stuck in quickly so that they can’t get a clear sighting past their mates.’ said Morry.

‘Anyway, not much by way of opposition.’ said Rathbone. ‘Come on, out of the lane the rest of you. And there’s still a way clear through the north corner to the forge…’

Oh, no there wasn’t.

That street was now blocked by a clump of men built like oversized troglodytes, oaken thighed and beetle browed, their great boots caked in cattle dung, their matted hair and beards flecked with straw, and all with eyebrows so dense that they had generated their own dandruff. They looked as though their preferred occupations could be the pole axing of mad bulls or wrestling with grizzly bears, and they did not appear over endowed with either sartorial elegance or any air of sensitivity. In fact beside them a quintet of Mike Tysons would have looked like a family of fairies.

These were Bill, Ben, Bert, Broderick, and Bedivere, the five Bashem brothers, who were the strongest members of Esme Trundle’s work force at Richpickings Farm.

Like the other defenders they also had no guns. In fact they had no weapons at all, apart from huge clenched fists, grinding teeth, and eyes glittering eagerly with the prospect of imminent heavy duty ear ripping and limb rending.

‘Oo-er!’ squeaked Morry.

‘Them are enemy.’ said Eustace. ‘Real enemy!’

‘But with no guns…’ said Rathbone. ‘This could be a walk over.’

‘What’s that tall old git up to?’ said Archibald. ‘He’s putting on a cloak covered with signs and waving his hands about in time with the bell…’

Barney had turned and was looking at Professor Paragon with his eyebrows raised.

‘Nearly ready.’ said the Professor, who then closed his eyes and passed his hands in front of his face whilst muttering an incantation. ‘That should do it – ah, yes…’

A perceptible yellow glow pulsed across the square with one of Godolphin’s chimes and momentarily lit up all the pirates before ebbing away again.

Barney turned back to face Rathbone and then strolled calmly towards him.

‘Is he coming to surrender?’ asked Eustace.

‘I don’t think so.’ said Rathbone. ‘He looks too bloody confident.’ He stepped forward to meet Barney.

‘What do you want, shortarse, apart from a thick ear?’

‘I present the compliments of the Mayor of Goldcaster and Professor Alfred Paragon. I am instructed to tell you that if you wish to surrender now you will not be harmed.’

‘Do what? We can blast you all apart in a couple of minutes, you jumped up jessie. So tell your ape men to stand aside – we’re going up to the forge.’

‘I think not squire. And as to your firepower, I suggest you try a shot and see how effective it isn’t.’

‘Are you barmy? Clarence, blow his hat off.’

Clarence raised one of his pistols and fired at the top of Barney’s hat. At two yards range he could hardly miss but nothing happened. Well, the flint struck, there was a spark, and Clarence started sneezing, but there was no pistol shot. Just a very strong smell of pepper in the air.

‘See what I mean sport?’ said Barney. ‘Your gunpowder’s changed a bit, hasn’t it? Still, look on the bright side – quite handy when flavouring your food – you can always shake your muskets over your mutton stew. Special yellow pepper that – quite an expensive condiment. Professor Paragon is well known for his generosity. I expect you’ll want to check some other weapons? Don’t be too long… All done? Right then. Are we ready to surrender now?’

’No, we bloody aren’t!’ fumed Rathbone.

‘Want to make a fight of it? Fair enough. Are you going to charge at us or are we going to charge at you? Tell you what – why don’t we spin for it? Here, you flip the coin and I’ll call…’

Still reeling from the set back Rathbone meekly spun the silver ducat Barney handed him.

‘Heads!’ called Barney as it fell on the ground. ‘I win. Right, you can charge – just let me get back to my lines and then we’ll be at it…’ He bent down to pick up the coin but then felt Rathbone’s strong grip on his shoulder.

‘Hold hard clever clogs.’ said Rathbone. ‘Ah, just as I thought – a double headed piece, you crafty little bugger! Well now we have a hostage once again. Sod it, no we haven’t – grab him!’

Barney had twisted out of his jacket and now sprinted for the Town Hall with all the pirates thundering after him, roaring and cursing, and hard upon his heels. A clutch of arrows shot over their heads and clattered on the cobbles beyond them but only by way of deterrence for the archers could not risk hitting Barney.

The defenders then rushed at the pirates from all sides of the square and the battle commenced, but not quite as Professor Paragon had planned.

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.

Sir Jasper Returns

At the water mill Doctor Johnson was feeling anxious and rather frustrated.

‘Now cheer up Doctor,’ said Mrs. Tupman, interrupting his musings.

‘Would that I could, dear lady, but there are so many strands to this endeavour, most of which are vital and all of which have to be monitored and adjusted when necessary. I believe that now all are coming together and either contributing to the main objective or being held in equilibrium until matters can be resolved. But have I missed anything? Have all concerned been advised of every intelligence pertaining to their task?

However efficient this excellent Gullnet is, even seagulls cannot be everywhere at once, and if one strand twitchs badly the others have to be adjusted very quickly. I rather feel that as far as unremitting prolonged concentration is concerned this must be the most demanding task of my long and often arduous existence.’

‘If you say so, but you must eat. Shift those papers off the table – it’s nearly time for your cake. Made it specially to feed them millions of grey cells of yours.’

‘Thank you madam. I will take a slice although I do not usually eat at this time of day. Although when at home in Bolt Court I sometimes take a dish of tea about now with the lady who lives with me.’

‘Well, well. A bit of a naughty boy are you still? You old rogue you. I’ve seen that twinkle in your eye.’

‘You flatter me madam. I assure you that my days of dalliance have long since passed. The lady I refer to is Mrs. Anna Williams. She has been the friend of my late wife and myself and for many years has lived in my house. She is blind and now very sickly.’ (If he had been aware that whilst he was away Mrs. Williams had in fact died two weeks before, his grief would have been intense.)

Fastnet was perched on a rail by the map clipped to the wall. He had a number of coloured pins in a pot and would push them in with his beak and move them about. This part of the mill was rather like an aviary with gulls coming and going all the time, and by now he had managed to persuade most of his cousins that it was not wholly appropriate for them to defecate with pride on the floor every time they brought a message.

‘How do things stand at this moment?’ asked Doctor Johnson.

‘The Professor is has still got problems at the church, Doctor.’ said Fastnet. ‘With their power the bells had previously damaged most of the available ropes. Portland says the Prof is now having to use the magic of the little Miss Minima bell to get the small bell up the tower on a sort of makeshift scaffold. He can only use Miss Minima in short bursts, and the expression on her face is getting very strained and annoyed, but the bell should be hung and ready to ring very soon. Everything will get easier then. He already has the next bell waiting to be hung, and the three others are being loaded on the brewer’s waggon with the dray horses harnessed, ready to leave for the church.

Down on the ground the pirates have nearly reached the outskirts of Goldcaster, and the Professor’s aunt has returned fast by short cuts through the back lanes as well. Malin said that a few minutes ago she was going up to the Dancing Sisters stone circle on the hill overlooking the town. We think she is going to attack from there.’

 

Aunt Hetty on her donkey with Mr Bagley and Elisabeth leading the pony, and accompanied by Rockall, climbed up to the top of one of the rides in the woodland surrounding the low hill on the outskirts of Goldcaster. Directly below them beyond the trees lay the curving Rowan river, sweeping through the broad rich fields, with the thatched and slated roofs of the town and the Black Leopard in the harbour about a mile away to the south east.

‘Right. Let’s get to work.’ said Aunt Hetty, puffing slightly as she slipped off Horace, unstrapped her broomstick, and relieved him of sundry panniers and saddlebags. She placed Arnold the toad on one of the sun warmed standing stones where he could comfortably flick out his tongue and snap at any passing late afternoon midge. Then she took a grumbler of gin for herself from a rather large hip flask, and produced a small tumbler from one of the panniers, poured in some orange juice, added some shredded mint leaves and a generous shot of the spirit, and swirled the mixture around with her index finger.

‘Here we are m’dear.’ she said to Elisabeth. ‘Get that down your gullet. You deserve it. You’ve done really well. And as for you, young Bagley,’ she said to the Mayor. ‘What a performance! A glass of best ’79 tawny port for you, I think. Not by way of celebration, you understand, but to fortify us for what I hope will be the following final phase.’

‘What happens next?’ asked Elisabeth.

‘Well we haven’t come here just for the view, that’s for sure. As you know this is a very special place, and not because of the excuse to have a bit of a ceremony and howsyourfather from time to time. And you can forget the dancing wenches on a Sunday rubbish that you tell the tourists – these stones were set for more important things than flipperty gibberting.’

‘This circle is as old as Stonehenge isn’t it?’

‘Older, Elisabeth. And simpler too. Not a great show-off edifice for powerful chiefs, but basically still a practical sun and moon and star dial for harnessing the power and getting things done at the right times. And more. This place has seen some dark doings done my darlings, in the thousands of years it’s been at work. Here we have one ley line running through the middle from Castle Crab and then down to the Great Gannet rock on the south side of the harbour and another, the same one that passes through Lower Rumble School House, crossing it and then going on through St. Jocelyn’s church, and then south right down through England.’

‘They say that the horned god Cernnunos appeared here in druid times.’ said Mr Bagley.

‘He’s still about.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Him and his snaking thorns, and things even more dangerous from much further in the past. But I must get ready for the colours of the bells.’

‘The colours of the bells?’ said Elisabeth.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Calabar, the sunrise bell gives off an orange to copper haze, Ignatius a rose to scarlet at sunset, Magnus a shimmering green each hour, Abelard a bluish silver at the half hour, and little Godolphin, well, he’ll be sending us a golden yellow sign very soon I hope.’

‘But I’ve never seen those colours when they ring.’

‘Neither have I.’ said Mr Bagley. ‘And I ring two of them.’

‘Normally the colours are very faint and quickly dispersed in the air.’ said Aunt Hetty patiently. ‘But what with them all being pent up and unused you’ll see ‘em today – with luck, if Alfred ever gets them hung. When we get the signal everything should start to change in our favour. When that time comes I want you, Elisabeth, to make your way to the church to help with the ringing. Mr Mayor, you should join the others at the Town Hall – best get into the town by the back lanes. And don’t either of you dare get captured – we don’t want no more hostages. Now let’s get me besom ready.’

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Elisabeth.

‘I’m going to get your brother back – with luck and a following wind. And when I take off you and Mr Mayor best get going as well.’

‘So you’re going to fly!’ exclaimed Elisabeth. ‘Do you rub bat’s blood and deadly nightshade ointment and foxglove juice and boar’s grease all over yourself?’

‘No, dear. You’re thinking of shape changing. That may be a short cut to flying, but I prefer me broomstick. It may be a bit odd, but it’s not so cold or dangerous, and at my age it’s a damn sight better than flitting about with no clothes on. Now I must get ready – where’s me gear?’

Aunt Hetty dipped into one of her panniers and took out some pads. She pulled up her dress and fitted two around her rather bony knees, and then rolled up her sleeves and secured another two about her elbows. Then she drew out a sort of armoured bowl with straps.

‘Me crash helmet.’ she said. ‘But with appropriate adjustments.’ She pressed a button on the helmet and a black circular brim spread out around the sides. Then she pressed another button and a conical black crown sprung up to form the classic witch’s hat.

‘This adds considerably to the culture shock and dramatic effect when you come out of the blue and hit the gofers in the goolies. Now let’s fit up me broomstick…’

Where the bristles spread out from the handle Aunt Hetty screwed on a saddle. It was wide, deep, well upholstered, and covered with a very early Laura Ashley cotton print. Then, on either side of the front of the broomstick, she slotted in two multi-function handles.

‘What are they for?’ asked Elisabeth, wide eyed and amazed.

‘Well, obviously pushing them forward and back helps steer the bugger.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Moving them up and down together functions as a joy stick – well you wouldn’t know about that – just makes you go up or down. If I tightens the grip on the left one it acts as a brake, and the right one is the throttle – that what makes it go faster.’

‘That’s amazing!’ said Elisabeth. ‘It’s hardly magic at all.’

‘There you go again.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘As soon as you explain anything the wonder evaporates. Anyway this is just an ordinary working broomstick, not one of your Formula One Quidditch specials.’

‘What is Quidditch?’

‘I thought you was a well read girl? Oh no, sorry – wrong century. Harry Potter – marvellous stuff. I’ll get you the books when this is all over.’ She then screwed on two swivelling foot rests either side of the broom, and attached one wire cable to the top of the handle and another to the back of the broomstick in the midst of the bristles.

‘Jump leads.’ she explained. ‘Just to charge her up a bit.’

She walked across with the broomstick to the upright Tingle Stone in the centre of the circle. She pressed the end of one of the cables to the stone near its base, and rubbed the end of the other against it higher up. At first nothing happened and Elisabeth and Mr Bagley could hear her muttering and apparently cursing in several languages. Then a few sparks began to run up and down the handle, and some wisps of smoke and the smell of burning dust came from within the bristles where a dry leaf ignited. Aunt Hetty cursed again, and shook it off to blew away.

‘That’ll have to do.’ she said. ‘Now we can only wait for the signal…’

 

* * *

 

Jasper had now arrived back at the harbour.

The few able bodied members of the crew aboard the Black Leopard had been brought ashore. As had Tom, with the almost gentle arm of Rathbone around his shoulders as he was rowed across from the ship.

‘Keep your chin up old son. You’re doing well Tom, so grin and bear it. There’s a lot of us looking out for you and one way or another it will soon be over, and you’ll be back with your Mum and Dad. If all goes well…’

Jasper dismounted and tethered his horse to a bollard. ‘Well now, Master Thomas Trundle, here we are a hostage once again.’ he said, as he carefully helped Tom out of the longboat and on to the steps by the quay. ‘Do you propose to make a career out of it?’

‘Please sir, no sir. Not if I can help it.’

‘Very wise. There is not a lot of job satisfaction to be had, and there are considerable disadvantages to such an occupation, especially if ransoms are not forthcoming. But take heart, you are not in real danger, whatever impression I may give to others. You are the one bright spot in the encircling gloom that besets me at the moment.’

‘How is that sir?’

‘You Trundles don’t give up, do you? Always looking for an edge. Quite right too.’ Jasper waved in a friendly way at a passing seagull. ‘Hello fish breath. Not so cocky now, eh? I think I hold the ace…’

‘It’s all my fault Mr Scabbard. With so much happening I got a bit careless.’ said Tom. ‘I didn’t do what I was told and then I got too curious and then I…’

‘Er, just a little point, Tom.’ said Jasper. ‘The correct form of address is “Sir Jasper”. But don’t let it worry you. I have been called a lot of things in my time. But I have few comforts for the ego and they are rapidly reducing, so my name and rank are rather dear to me. As to it all being your fault – I refer to your companion’s situation – of course it is. It is always all our faults. Either we make mistakes or we do not see clearly what is happening. You cannot live without making mistakes young man. The key thing is being able to learn from them.’

‘I seem to be learning an awful lot this week.’

‘Well, take heart Tom, so am I. But, like your sister, you show great courage. My, what a partnership we would have, if you were my Midshipman. But now I must barter with your life – no don’t be alarmed, you and I know it’s only a bluff. Wait here on the steps out of sight for the moment whilst I see how the land lies…’

 

It was High Noon in Goldcaster Town. Well, high four fifteen on this particular afternoon.

With the prospect before him of not only failing to achieve the major outcome he had anticipated, but also the possibility of losing everything, Jasper, now once again determined, resolute, carefully calculating, and keen eyed, stepped on to the quay. Alone. Until Tantamount hopped up beside him.

At first sight the town appeared deserted, basking in the still mild warmth of the late September afternoon sun. To his left, at the northern end of the quay, beyond the demolished privy, his men had erected a barricade with their carts and trolleys to prevent access from the northern outskirts of the town and to provide cover behind which to muster. The mouth of a cannon could be seen poking out of the barricade and the occasional movement of his men behind it.

A sudden flutter of sparrows emerged from the shadows in the main lane that lead from the quay back to the Market Square and the Town Hall. Someone was now definitely lurking there. On the first floor of the Harbour Inn a curtain twitched. And there was an eye peering through the leaves of the aspidistra plant in the window of the Harbour Master’s office.

In what was left of the dying breeze a scrap of paper rustled half heartedly along the cobbles towards him, whirled feebly, and settled at his feet.

Towards the southern end of the quay was the huge machine of which the Cook had spoken. Strands of steam were seeping from its innards, and Jasper could smell pungent coal smoke, a thin column of which rose almost straight up into the air from the prominent chimney. He could also hear it, slowly and menacingly ticking over – Chuff,……. Chuff,……. Chuff,……. Chuff…

‘ “Do not forsake me, oh my darlin’…” ‘ said Tantamount, nervously.

‘Hmmm…’ said Jasper, and snapped his fingers twice behind him.

Archibald and Clarence slowly rose up from out of sight and stepped on to the quay, one either side of Jasper, both with muskets at the ready and looking carefully about and very closely at the buildings before them, and muttering to each other out of the sides of their mouths.

‘Corn merchant’s – second floor, top right…’

‘Got ‘im. Ship Chandler’s – left hand chimbley stack… ’

‘Where? Oh, yeah. What a stupid hat. And one over there – inside coach arch of Inn – crouched behind bollard.’

‘No. That’s a cat.’

‘Bloody big cat.’

‘Well, dog then.’

‘A dog’d be barking by now…’

‘I’ll be barking in a minute.’ hissed Jasper. ‘Will you two shut up? Anyway, the whole town’s seething. They are just waiting for us to make a move so let’s get on with it.’ He strode to the middle of the quay and stood with his hands on his hips.

‘Any one at home?’ he bellowed.

Author of Dangerous Chimes, read more about Michael Macauley over here.