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.

Jasper and his crew head back to Goldcaster

Back in Goldcaster Professor Paragon was having considerable difficulty at the church. He was not short of manpower – Will Nudd, and half a dozen others were clustered at the foot of the bell tower and Barnaby and Umbrage were perilously perched half way up. No, the problem was gaining sufficient access to the belfry and the beams to raise and set the bells.

The stairs up from the ground had been badly damaged with few banisters left to provide safe and secure hand holds when climbing. The railings on the belfry floor had been smashed and the floor taken apart, and the ladders to the belfry beams were so broken that they were both useless.

More ladders were now being brought into the church and makeshift scaffolding was being erected so that the pulleys and hoists brought from Castle Crab could be put in place. Ropes were already attached to Godolphin (which Boswell thought seemed to be twinkling a little in anticipation) but it would be some while yet before it could be raised, let alone set and rung.

The Professor looked at his watch. ‘It is essential that this bell is ready by the time Scabbard returns. Where is he now?’ he asked Boswell.

‘Only about two miles up the coast, but the gulls report that he doesn’t seem to be moving very fast. Many of his men are in poor shape and he probably thinks that the bells are aboard by now and all is well in Goldcaster, as far as he is concerned…’

* * *

Jasper was making his way with Rathbone back to Goldcaster along the seashore road. He was leading his horse which now carried two afflicted pirates, both still moaning. Other members of Rathbone’s party still suffering badly were either lying in the carts, or hunched up on the remaining trolley now towed by two of the Captain’s troop who were, after all, unaffected by Aunt Hetty’s luncheon delicacies.

‘Just a minor point Mr Mate, touching but lightly upon the details of your progress today, but what happened to the musical instruments that were in your care? At least they were worth something.’

‘Oh Gawd! We must have left them back at that Tumblegill Mill place where the snake attacked us.’

‘What a pity. We could have made our way back – I nearly said marched – playing a dirge. The Dead March from Saul, perhaps. I’d have quite enjoyed that, in the circumstances.’

‘Give over Captain. Today may have been a bit of a bummer but we’ve still got the booty from the town. And probably your bells will be aboard by now.’

‘My bells? Do you think so? Those bells seem not only reluctant to be taken, but determined to thwart us.’

‘Now don’t you start talking like that Sir J. It’s you that keeps us going.’

‘Thank you Rathbone, but you see that herring gull hopping from rock to rock, apparently keeping us company, the one with the black spot on its beak and the flecks of white upon its wing? It may surprise you to know that either it or one of its companions follows me wherever I go. They report back to our enemies. All we do is known to them.’

‘You’d better have a drink of water Captain. Better still have a swig from my emergency hip flask. It’s a white rum from Haiti. I know you prefer the more delicate sort.’

‘Thank you. Ah, that’s a little better. Forgive me.’

‘They follow us as well. After scraps I expect.’

‘Not much luck today with us then. I had great hopes for this enterprise but it seems to be going rather sour. This seems to be a land of plenty of nothing. The greater bulk of any profit will now depend on the gold of the bells and it looks as though even if we have got them aboard we will have considerable difficulty melting off the gold and may have to sell them on. All that takes time and the men will be considerably disappointed. Do you sometimes feel the attractions of retirement?’

‘How long have we been together Captain?’

‘Since you were wrongly accused of theft and jumped ship at the Cape – must be seven years ago now. A pity that, you had a good skipper, a worthy task, and no scurvy.’.’

‘But it wasn’t Captain Cook to blame, was it? It was that bastard Bligh who was serving under him who fitted me up. Right sod, but a good navigator. I wonder what became of him?’

‘Rising up the ladder in the Royal Navy I understand. I heard talk of him planning another South Seas expedition – to look for bread fruit would you believe.’

‘Well, I don’t envy his crew – you can only stand so much abuse. Anyway, I was in dead bother there. If you hadn’t picked me up I’d have been a shark’s supper. So whatever you decide is alright with me, and if you want to retire I’ll join you if you like. But if you abandon the profession we ought to go out on a high. You don’t want it to get about that we were bested by the peasants. You’ve got your reputation to think of.’

‘You feel our image might leave something to be desired if we do not totally succeed? Fancy yourself an expert in Public Relations do you?’

‘What’s public relations when it’s at home? Sounds rather vulgar to me. I prefer a bit of privacy for my relationships. I like to concentrate on the matter in hand without a lot of leering onlookers if you take my meaning…’

‘No, no, no! Public Relations is the distortion, suppression, or manipulation of the truth in the best interests of whoever pays the fees.’

‘What a filthy trade. I’ll stick to straightforward thieving thank you. Whilst I have to.’

‘Anyway all is not yet lost in this endeavour. And what is this? I see a sail – it’s one of our dinghies and yes, the Cook is steering it – quite well. Mr Speke must have deprived him of alcohol. What now I wonder?’

‘You’ve certainly got pirate’s eyes Cap’n. I can barely make out the rig. There’s your seagull again, perched on the cart.’

‘Now bird, ‘ said Jasper. ‘Is that boat bringing good news or bad news? For us I mean, not your lot.’

Rockall, for it was he, cocked his head first on one side, then on the other, shrugged his shoulders, and then flapped his wings in an indecisive manner.

‘Bit of both, eh? I’m obliged to you for that honest opinion. Well, don’t let me keep you… Off again are we? Doubtless to advise Madam Paragon of our progress? Please give her my regards.’

Rathbone looked at him askance. ‘You’re beginning to worry me Sir J. What is it with you and these gulls?’

‘Allow me my little foibles, old friend. All will doubtless be revealed before the day is out.’

The Cook, with the breeze behind him, and Jasper’s party heading south, soon met.

‘ “What news on the Rialto?” ‘ asked Tantamount, as they beached the boat and extracted the Cook on to the shore.

‘Well ?’ asked Jasper.

‘Begging your forbearance Cap’n, but the town has been recaptured.’

‘What ?’

‘But all is not lost Cap’n. We was on the verge of being buggered, but now we ‘ave an ‘ostage once more.’

‘Who?’

‘The boy Tom. Again. And Mr Speke says he-would-normally-have-cut-an-ear-and-sent-it-to-‘em-to-make-‘em-sheer-off-but-given-you -was-on-your-way-back-as-it-were-and-might-have-other-plans-he-thought-it-best-to –er – hurry you up – er – that is he’d-be-obliged-if-you-could-make-haste-and-return-as-soon-as-maybe-so-as-to-recapture -the-town-and-get-the-bells-aboard. Oh, and they’ve got a huge armoured steam machine that ran over Carnage’s foot. That’s about it Cap’n. Steerings ‘ard work when you aren’t used to it. I ain’t half thirsty. Any rum about?’

‘Never mind your ruddy rum. So the bells are still on shore?’

‘Well we hadn’t even got the raft made when they hit us.’

‘Any casualties?’

‘None of the ones they captured was badly hurt, and we got ‘em back when we threatened the kid.’

‘Right, men.’ snarled Jasper. ‘Pull yourselves together. We’re going back as fast as possible, and we’re going back angry. I will double the share of the gold on the bells and there will be free nostrums for the gut ache once we are back on board. We have all to gain and nothing to lose. We are invincible, we are evil, we are ruthless – What are we?…’

‘Without Ruth?’

‘Don’t be awkward. We are determined – What are we?’

‘Determined – well, a bit.’

‘I don’t know about that.’ said Clarence, sniffing. ‘The way I feel right now.’

‘There is no ‘I’ in the word TEAM!’ hissed Jasper.

‘There’s no F in HOPE either.’ muttered Clarence.

‘I heard that and I’ll have you keelhauled if you don’t show a more positive attitude.’

‘That’ll cure his hay fever!’

‘Haw – haw – haw!’

‘Double our shares, eh?’

‘Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,’ said Archibald. ‘But I’m totally cheesed off. I could do with a bit of a punch up.’

‘And I’m positively fuming with disappointment, me.’ said Morry.

‘Let’s kick ass and kick it now!’

‘That’s more like it – Up guards and at ‘em!’

They won’t forget us in a hurry!’

‘ “We are the Sweeney and we haven’t had our dinner.” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘Alright, alright, let’s get a move on then.’ said Rathbone. ‘Come on you slovenly lot – weapons primed, sort yourselves out, get a grip for Gawd’s sake…’

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

A Grave Situation. Bad news for the Prof and disappointment for the pirates

‘This is a very grave situation, my fine feathered fellow.’ said Doctor Johnson to Fastnet at the Water Mill. ‘Let me read this message from Mr Boswell brought by Biscay…’

My dear friend,

As you know young Tom is once again a hostage and this time in a most desperate situation. We have been obliged to release our prisoners and allow them to return to their ship. We have also had to agree that the bells should not be taken away or hidden, that they should not (as the pirates see it) be rung to summon reinforcements, and in fact that they should be left at the forge until Sir Jasper returns.

However when Professor Paragon and I returned to the forge after releasing the prisoners from the Town Hall, we found that our well intentioned colleagues had already managed to load the two smaller bells on to the brewer’s dray and had in fact conveyed them to the church.

The Professor and I hope that it may be likely that when he returns Sir Jasper will want to bring Tom ashore to most effectively deter any resistance. Tom will then be in a safer and more intelligent custody. We therefore propose, despite the pirate Quartermaster’s terms, and since the two bells are at the church already, to discretely hang the smallest and therefore be ready to use its power to help free the boy at the first opportunity.

We believe that this is the only way we can achieve not just Tom’s release, but any chance of wider success. If you agree please have this note passed to the Professor’s Aunt together with the assurance that she will be advised when the bell is about to be rung so that she can also act most effectively. (I believe her broomstick may be involved.)

In haste. J.B.

And so, as Jasper and his yawning crew left Lower Rumble, Malin came swooping over the roof tops to Aunt Hetty with the news.

‘Sod, damn, and buggerit!.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘Well, there you are Elisabeth. Can’t leave him alone for a moment. All going absolutely as planned, and he cocks it up completely.’

‘Oh, Aunt Hetty,’ said Elisabeth. ‘It’s not your nephew’s fault. I’m sure he couldn’t help Tom getting caught again. (I do hope he’ll be alright…)’

‘He’d better be, or some pirates, (and maybe a relative) had sooner not be born.’

‘What was that about the broomstick?’

‘You’ll see girl. If a bell ever does get rung.’

‘I’m sure that with all his experience…’

‘All his experience? He’s only two hundred and forty. Well, older when he’s in the future, obviously.’

‘Er, yes. Of course.’

‘He spends so much time there no wonder things get a bit out of kilter in a crisis. If we ever manage to finish this business let’s hope he keeps the end game in this century…’

* * *

Luther Speke was toying intently with his worry wart and studying the local chart. Even now with the five released prisoners returned aboard his working strength was not even adequate to defend the ship. And of the five only two could be relied upon to be disloyal to the captain if it came to it. No, he must wait for Scabbard and the rest of the crew, secure his share of whatever booty had been taken from Summerdale, get the bells aboard, leave this place with the others, and bide his time.

So the Captain must be warned about the situation and urged to return as quickly as possible. But where was he likely to be by now? Whilst the navigation chart was fully informative about the coast and indicated the few principle roads in Summerdale, it did not have the other details available on the map being carried by Sir Jasper.

Speke had not been involved in the planning of the expedition beyond knowing it would strike up into the area by way of the main route and then split up to cover as many hamlets as possible. Scabbard would be most likely first of all to go north on the higher ground to get the best view of the potential, then probably work back down towards the coast. If that was the case by now at least one party should have reached the road that ran back along the shore to Goldcaster.

There was a light south west breeze, so perhaps he could send a messenger up the coast. He would have a gaff sail rigged on one of the dinghies which were on the lee side of the Leopard out of sight of the town. But who to send? He needed those most fit to fight on board, and best have Tadmartin stay with the boy to keep him calm. He would have to send the cook. He wasn’t drunk yet and could manage a dinghy perfectly well…

* * *

Having left Lower Rumble Jasper was musing on the implications of his most recent encounter. What chance would he have if that witch and possibly others could use supernatural powers at will? But it did seem that for some reason such a resource might be a danger only at that School House place. He had apparently touched a nerve when he mentioned nightfall. If only he had her wonderful communication system… On reflection it certainly looked as though the advantage she was waiting for was not some magic speciality but the arrival of outside help. But how could that be imminent within the time available to obtain it since the sacking of Goldcaster? No, such material assistance was out of the question until at least late tomorrow night. The Black Leopard should be safely out in the Irish Sea by then.

By now Speke would have completed the construction of the raft, and possibly be already loading the bells. All he himself had to do was to catch up with Rathbone, return to the ship, and sail away.

A pity really, he rather liked Summerdale. In other circumstances this could have been the place to retire to… Heigh, ho.

‘Nice enough countryside.’ said Archibald. ‘I wonder what we’re going to find next?’

‘There is pleasure in the pathless woods,’ said Tantamount.

‘Not today there wasn’t,’ said Jasper.

‘ “There is rapture on the lonely shore.’

‘There had better be.’

‘I wonder how the First Mate’s getting on.’ said Archibald. ‘There were some tasty looking targets on his route – the Shopping Mall and the Bonded Warehouse and the Earthly Delights and that… He should have a good haul anyway.’

‘Don’t start salivating yet Archibald. Anyway, we shall soon see. Oh dear…’

They had come up to the crest of a small hill and below them the road ran down towards the sea. There was an arch across the road that was faced with faded and rotting plywood. On it in peeling paint it bore the legend WELCOME TO SUMMERDALE WORLD.

Somewhat bemused Jasper and his crew surveyed the scene before them. The road, well pitted with potholes, curved down until it ran southwards along the edge of a rocky pebble beach. On the landward side was a grim row of buildings and behind them sand dunes on which scrappy marram grass struggled to survive. There was a settlement of corrugated iron clad ramshackle huts, mostly ruinous, and either side of the road grew sparse vegetation, windswept weeds, and stunted shrubs, interspersed with broken glass, and tar encrusted rubbish. The strong stench of decaying seaweed and rotting remnants along the high tide line wafted up the hill towards them.

“Ruins in demesnes deserted, bog-surrounded, bramble skirted.” said Tantamount

‘Oh dear, oh dear…’ groaned Jasper again.

‘The sands and yeasty surges mix in caves about the dreary bay…’ said Tantamount.

‘Yes, quite.’

“Tired waves, vainly breaking…”

‘For heaven’s sake! There’s no need to keep on about it. I think we’ve all got the message.’

The first building they came to was apparently the Reception Office. It was closed but bore the helpful notice:

Summer Huts for Sale or to Let

No pets, No ball games, No mixed parties, No music

Children under strict control, Lights out 9.0pm

Out of season apply to Goldcaster Town Hall

They slowly made their way along the promenade. There was a toilet block for Ladies, Gents, Disabled, and the Uncertain, but they were all locked. But there was a notice here as well: ‘When the toilets are closed a key may be obtained from the Information Centre’.

There was the standard peeling paint on the hut which housed this Information facility, where sun bleached unreadable notices remained in the window. Here also a CLOSED card was prominently displayed.

All the other buildings had what once had been gaudily painted frontages with various ornamental pillars, pediments, and mouldings, but at the back they were uniformly plain single story rectangular blocks with heavily barred windows, overflowing rubbish bins, and bits of greasy paper blowing about. A solitary mangy foraging fox was rooting amongst the refuse.

Jasper’s depression deepened.

Of course, there was no Arndale Centre Shopping Mall. There was however ‘Phil the Greek’s Souvenir Centre and Amusement Emporium’. Set on the apex of the fascia here was a whirring little windmill which presumably powered the clockwork mechanism for the almost life size automaton in the centre of the window of the establishment. This figure had the staring eyes of a ventriloquist’s dummy, wore a sailors hat, and prompted by the varying breeze on the windmill above its head jerked from side to side whilst its jaw snapped open and shut. The equally jerky barrel between its hands carried the revolving legend ‘Roll up! Roll up! Everyone’s a winner! You’re only young once but in your case madam we’ll make an exception! Spend now, weep later! Roll up! Roll up!’

Beyond it one could see clearly that the premises were empty of stock, activity, or even of any interest. In the window was a rack of faded postcards – views of Goldcaster harbour, the bridge over the Rowan river, King George the Third paddling at Weymouth, a First Rate ship of the line in battle with the slogan ‘Hearts of Oak’, and some very vulgar prints by Mr Gilray and Mr Rowlandson.

There also remained a display of Lucky Summerdale Pixies, Lucky Summerdale Rock, Lucky Goldcaster Bells, Kiss-me Quick tricorne hats, and a cracked plaster garden gnome baring its buttocks.

The only consolation was that the lock had been freshly forced and that the door was lying on its side. Rathbone’s men must have got something here.

Between this building and ‘Harry Ramsbum’s Fish and Chip Shop – Finest Rock Salmon, fresh this year’ lay not the Bonded Warehouse, but a dilapidated lock-up, empty and open, with the door swinging on its hinges.

The sign above read: ‘D. and D. International – Import/Export. Barnabas Trim – Proprietor’ A flapping notice was pinned to one of the doors – ‘Closing Down Sale – everything must go! We would like to thank all past patrons. We have now relocated and correspondence should be addressed care of Professor Paragon, Castle Crab’.

Jasper had just passed by when he blinked and reined in his horse. He dismounted, stepped back, ripped the notice from the door, and studied it. So… there was another Paragon. An unusual name, too much of a coincidence. This must be the witch’s nephew to whom she referred. Apparently an academic or professional person, presumably with considerable resources if he owned a castle. Such a place appeared on no map of the area he had found and so must be some way off. He shivered a little, screwed up the notice and threw it in the gutter.

It began to appear increasingly probable that she had not been bluffing. Her nephew would presumably be as well informed as herself because of the seagull system, but would take some while to come to her assistance, hence her delaying tactics and her anticipation of the odds against himself increasing greatly later. He smiled wryly. How ironic – the only bit of information he wasn’t supposed to discover today only increased the likelihood of major problems.

‘Alright Cap’n?’ asked Archibald.

‘Oh yes. Bloody marvellous. By the way, did you know your hair has…? Oh, never mind. Good lad. Where the devil’s Rathbone?’

With his party peering about them with increasing dismay, he made his way past ‘So Today – Beach and Designer Wear’ (closed), past ‘Madame Arcati – Palmistry, Tarot Cards, Jobbing Forecasts – You never know what lies around the corner’ (closed), past (at last) ‘The Garden of Earthly Delights – Ring twice and ask for René – Testimonials available’ (closed), and so eventually to the final building on this run down promenade, no, not a Customs House, but the tiniest of the offices of His Majesty George the Third’s Collector of Taxes.

On a brass plaque beside the door was stated: ‘Open 12.0 to 1.0 p.m. every fourth Friday. All payments to be made in cash, not kind.’ Chalked on the door was written ‘Yah Boo pirates – we closed even earlier today.’

There was by now a general air of dejection about his party. There was no more moaning or grumbling, they just shambled along, staring about them in disbelief. At least Clarence had appeared to have some respite from his hay fever and had stopped sneezing when the ozone hit – the only bright spot in an otherwise dismal day.

At last they rounded a curve in the coast road and came upon Rathbone and his men. The First Mate was wandering about the beach, turning over stones with his cutlass and peering under rocks.

‘What are you doing Rathbone?’ called Jasper politely.

‘Oh, hello Cap’n. I’m beachcombing.’

‘Oh, how very enterprising. We’re really pushing back the frontiers of piracy today aren’t we? Possibly a touch of mission drift perhaps?’

‘Found anything?’ said Archibald.

‘Not a lot. Three dead sheep and an abandoned corset.’

‘Not a totally wasted day then?’ said Jasper.

‘Can’t be helped.’ said Rathbone, picking up a flat stone and skimming it across the gentle wave tops.

‘Oh, well done Mr Mate.’ ‘I think that was a niner. I do so enjoy these moments of rest and recreation when one is so low on the feel good factor.’

‘Oh! Gawd almighty!’ exclaimed Archibald.

‘What on earth’s the matter now?’ said Jasper.

‘Look at my boot!’ Archibald raised one dog dung encrusted foot. ‘It’s diabolical! See that notice – “No dogs allowed on this beach. Penalty for fouling two guineas.” The way some people flout the law. There’s rancid coils everywhere – it’s absolutely disgusting.’

‘Your public conscience does you credit.’ said Jasper. ‘But please stop waving your odorous limb about.’ He turned to Rathbone. ‘How fared your day – or shouldn’t I ask?’

‘Letting out giant snakes and mad elephants, then hallucinations, disappointments, and the screaming squitters. That’s about it.’

‘Just a normal buccaneering day then – another dream shattered. Snakes and Elephants?’ Do forgive me, but it must have slipped my memory – I don’t recall liberating a zoo being on the agenda? Or have we joined the Animal Liberationists?’

‘They just happened Sir J. How about you?’

‘You tell him Archibald. I’m losing the will to live…’

‘Well,’ said Archibald despondently, ‘In a word – sod all.’

‘I see you have now only one trolley.’ said Jasper. ‘And, like our own, your horse drawn cart is empty. Why is that Rathbone?’

‘Well, what with the elephant and then the Mill place, no, tell a lie, that was first, and then the… No, no, it was… I dunno. And then the watsit with the thingy… Where was I?’

‘Never mind. Mr Dictionary seems to have deserted us again. But I understand. I see that your two surviving conveyances are now adorned with souvenirs. The only plunder obtained I presume?’

Rathbone nodded sadly. Well, it wasn’t much to brag about, just a few stickers; ‘My other cart’s a Mercedes’, ‘Pirates do it with a Swashbuckle’, ‘Casanova’s 1775 “Lock up Your Daughters” Farewell Tour ’, ‘Tony Vivaldi Lives’, and ‘I’ve been to Summerdale World – and Survived.’  Just about, thought Jasper.

‘And what spittle flecked clotted misery have we here, crawling out of the dunes? Is it the Green Hand Gang?’

‘ “Oh horrible, horrible, horrible – most horrible!” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘Well that old woman at the School House made us all wash our hands before she gave us anything to eat. After a while all our fingers went green, and then our wrists and then our arms – all tingly and twitching. And by the time we got here and we found the toilets locked and we were desperate for a …’

‘Yes, yes, I get the picture. Ah – Leading Seaman Dancer. I take it that your day hasn’t been solely given over to pleasure either then? You look like a bereaved tapeworm.’

‘Yeah, what a sight.’ said Rathbone. ‘Where’s lean, mean fighting machine, the crack shot dapper Dancer we know and dread? You’re sloping about like an unmade bed.’

‘Don’t get batey with me matey – I’ll come round to your cabin and criticise your curtains.’

‘Ah, bless…’ said Jasper. ‘Hello Eustace. That Goldcaster Globetrotters baseball cap is quite fetching. But you look pretty rough.’

‘I got the dire rear and the heaving guts Cap’n.’

‘How very jolly.’

‘Oooh…’ moaned Eustace. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

‘Let go of my leg. You can’t be sick on me.’

‘Can’t I? Sorry… Uuurgh!’

Jasper looked down at his spattered boots. ‘Thank you for sharing that. It’s people like you that give piracy a bad name.’ He looked at his pocket watch and then turned to R.athbone. ‘Whilst you gather the men together, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, this being such a lovely day I think there’s enough time for a little paddle. For the good of the now noisome boots you understand. I have long since abandoned the pursuit of any simple personal pleasures.’

‘The men are already gathered – well collapsed – in an orderly manner. My feet are bloody hot. Mind if I join you?’

‘Be my guest. Oh, look – more flat stones. Slate outcrop of the Jurassic period I believe. Much weathered of course and structured by the work of the waves…’

‘Whatever. Don’t half bloody skim though, don’t they? Well done Sir J, that was a good twelver…’

‘Thank you, old chap. You know, today, for the first time, I am beginning to feel that I may be approaching my bury by date.

‘Tell me about it, tell me about it. But you’ve got to look on the bright side…’

‘Please don’t try to cheer me up.’

‘ “I can take the despair. It’s the hope I can’t stand.” ‘ said Tantamount.

‘True. Oh, so very true…’

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

Jasper learns more about his opponents

The dust began to settle.

The toilet at the back of the building which was still standing creaked and crumbled and then fell apart. Mr Bagley stepped out of the rubble. ‘Hello again.’ he said to Jasper. ‘Nice afternoon for it…’

‘Do I know you sir?’ coughed Jasper.

Mr Bagley shook flakes of plaster from his mortar board and gown and wiped his face. His stick-on waxed moustache fell on the floor.

‘Ah – the Mayor of Goldcaster. What a pleasant surprise.’ Jasper straightened his own moustache, brushed debris from his hat and coat, checked his pistols and his sword, and turned towards Aunt Hetty who was smiling rather smugly and leaning with her arms folded on the teacher’s desk. ‘That was a bit over the top wasn’t it?’ He coughed again. ‘Still, I have to hand it to you madam, you have proved your point – in spades.’

‘Yes,’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘I did groove there a bit, didn’t I?’

Tantamount emerged from what remained of his desk, flapping his wings free of fallout. ‘ “You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!” ‘ he squawked

‘I haven’t heard that before.’ said Aunt Hetty.

‘Some English actor in the twentieth century.’ said Jasper. ‘I think the name is Micklewhite. I don’t know where Tantamount gets these quotations from the future from. It baffles me.’

Elisabeth, covered in dust, gingerly emerged from the remains of the stationery cupboard, realised Sir Jasper had seen her and tried to hide again.

‘Don’t bother young lady,’ he said. ‘I rather thought that when you and your brother escaped me you might have fled away to safety, but given today’s frustrations I’m not surprised to find you somewhere in the thick of things. Are you alright my dear?’

‘Er, yes,’ said Elisabeth, blowing the dust off her spectacles, shaking chalk and paper clips from her dress, and looking at him doubtfully.

‘Don’t be alarmed.’ he said. ‘In the unlikely event that you might now have anything to fear from me, that cannot possibly apply with such an accomplished chaperone by your side. I suppose you’ve been Trundling all over Summerdale today have you?’

‘Well, er, yes, I have – a bit.’

‘Damned good job you made of it too. If I had ever reached Summerdale Towers what would I have found?’

‘It’s quite a nice old house, but it has been empty for a while.’

‘And its “Health Hydro”?

‘Well, it has got a pond…’

‘How about the Gold Mine and Jewel Cavern?’

‘A worked out tin mine with very dangerous shafts. But there are some quite pretty lumps of iron pyrites on the spoil heaps.’

‘Dunplundering, bed and breakfast?’

‘I made that up, I’m afraid.’

Jasper sighed. ‘Heigh ho, another entrancing creature destined to be my foe.’

‘Are you alright?’ asked Elisabeth.

‘I believe so, Miss Trundle. But certainly both shaken and stirred.’  He turned again to Aunt Hetty. ‘I feel that you were rather hard on poor Archibald. After all, I am your enemy, he was merely a minion. I shall miss him. He was loyal and hardworking, and as Purser he looked after my accounts – a good man, despite my previous observations, with a fine singing voice. I shall really miss him.’

‘No you won’t. I ain’t finished yet.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look over there at that oak tree on the green. You’re a seafaring man – where does the sun lie in relation to it?’

‘Why – about two degrees to the west I suppose.’

‘Right. Hold that thought. Now, I said before no permanent harm would come to him, didn’t I?’

‘Well, yes, but…’

‘Never mind “but”. You would like you Purser back wouldn’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well it will cost you.’

‘I thought it might.’

‘No! Not advantage – bit of dignity, that’s all. Are you prepared to hold the hand of a witch, trust me, and close your eyes for a moment? You need to be in my time slot you see – to appreciate the difference. No harm will come to anyone, I give you my word.’

‘That’s good enough for me madam. It will be a privilege to take your hand. I don’t pretend to understand what you are about, but I’ll give it a whirl – I imagine that would be the appropriate expression for this particular form of magic?’

Aunt Hetty laughed. ‘You’re quite a charmer aren’t you? With plenty of guts. I like that in a man. Reminds me of Doctor Dee… Where’s me crystal? Right. All’s ready. Here we go then. Close your eyes, hold on tight – there will be quite a lot of wind noise but no explosions. One, two, three…’

Her grip was surprisingly strong. He was aware that with her other hand she was swinging the pendulum around. Then she screeched out ‘TEMPUS REVERTI!’ There was a sound of a breeze which rapidly became a powerful wind, then a rushing, irresistible gale of noise, like a hurricane tearing out the sails, ripping the rigging apart, bending a vessel into mountainous waves… Then all was quiet once more.

‘May I open my eyes now?’

‘Indeed you may.’ She released his hand. Was it his imagination, or was there a trace of a friendly squeeze…? He found himself looking at a wall of the class room, completely undamaged, the curtains still against the unbroken window through which he could see the oak tree on the green.

‘Where stands the sun now, Jasper Scabbard?’

‘Back east behind the tree, Mistress Paragon. When it should be further west.’

He looked around. The class room was intact. Exactly as it had been before, indeed unblemished, apart from the existing scratched graffiti on the desks (‘Seth Starkadder is a swot’, ‘“Ada Doom wears red knickers’, ‘Miriam Crutch-Ebbing loves Caleb, Ahab, Jethro, Jesus, The Reverend Mr Poste – for ever’)

An untouched Tantamount was peering out from his hiding place as before, and Archibald was back in his trance upon the platform.

‘What happened to my men?’

‘I put them to sleep in the orchard. They’ll be starting to wake up now.’

‘Where are the Mayor and Miss Trundle?’

‘Don’t know who you’re talking about. You must have imagined them.’

He smiled ruefully and nodded his head. ‘Of course I must have. I am sure she is not crouched in that cupboard and he is not lurking in the lavatory. Well, I am at your mercy madam. You can apparently not only harness elemental forces but can also take us back in time. So today is the Autumn Equinox. It’s also a full moon, isn’t it?’

’You catch on fast, don’t you?’

‘Well, I not only understand Newton’s gravity and how magnetism influences my compass, but I acknowledge the subtle forces that effect the tides, and the seasons. You appear to have access to less known elements, or is that only at certain times? And you implied that your powers were limited for the moment, but if you’re only operating at half cock, as it were, I’d hate to be in the vicinity when you had all guns blazing.’

‘You did ask for a demonstration.’

‘Yes, I did, didn’t I? We’ll at least I now know where I stand. Up to the armpits in quandaries, I think.’

Aunt Hetty’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re a clever bugger, aren’t you? Once you realised who I was you not only had to test the opposition, but now you’d like to learn more about my limitations. Well I’m not falling for it. I can always pull something out of the hat if sufficiently provoked. I’ve got me own local powers see, don’t need the …’ She bit her lip. ‘Enough of that.’ She smiled again. ‘Well, Mr Clever Clogs, if I could do that to your man, why are you still standing?’

‘Why? Well, I rather think you need me madam.’

‘I need you?’

‘I believe that to be the case. You have demonstrated your skills most effectively, but whether or not you might have even greater power in different or later circumstances, I don’t think that factor places me beyond present danger. I believe that it is your knowledge of the situation of my crew and the wisdom that leads you to forego a possible satisfactory short term triumph in order to achieve your principle objectives – yes, therein I suspect my present safety lies.’

‘What is the situation of your crew?’

‘In other circumstances you would not ask that questions because you know I would not tell you, but now you know that I know how you know – (if you follow me), your seagulls being such an effective force, there is no harm in my confirming your intelligence. My men are split into four groups.

I here, with those disgruntled layabouts lying on the green, my First Mate’s men no doubt sightseeing along the seashore, those in Goldcaster attending to our interests, and those on board my vessel, guarding our resources.’

‘You’re right, I did know that. But you speak of my objectives. What are they then?’

‘Many here in Summerdale must be seeking revenge, but being rid of us must be a greater priority, and recovery of booty and recompense for damage must be very high on their agenda. Whilst we are split asunder by circumstance, if any of us were to panic and flee, we might, albeit separately, be gone. Those left on land would be desperate and dangerous, those on board the Leopard might sail away before you could touch them. Where then would be the prospect of recovery and the resolution to this affair that you and your associates must seek?’

‘Very shrewd, Sir Jasper.’

‘If my surmises are correct madam, it follows that you have so far confined your obvious magic actions to myself, since Archibald is still unaware of anything untoward and as my men were oblivious my group may moan but will not panic. Why can that be? Why not destroy us, each group apart from the other? You might say that it is because you want your possessions returned and you might frighten off those on board the ship. But surely with your special powers you could secure the vessel, raise that wind of which you spoke, drive it on to a sand bank, say?’

‘Bit of a teaser isn’t it?’ said Aunt Hetty, tight lipped.

‘What is apparent is that I find myself delayed. Are you expecting conventional help from outside Summerdale that could not arrive until very late tomorrow night at the earliest, given the distances involved and the primitive nature of the only route? I had allowed for that, even if someone had set off seeking assistance the night we arrived. I am a pragmatist and loathe as I am to admit it, I now believe that it is your special power here that is the danger. Perhaps your frightening abilities are even greater after nightfall perhaps, and I might find myself pinned down in Lower Rumble until militia attacked my leaderless men?’

‘I’m not saying.’ snapped Aunt Hetty.

‘Of course not, and I do not expect you to illuminate me, but I am not about to wait in this place until the full moon rises or the clocks strike midnight or whatever. I am lingering no longer here madam, and shall now return to the safety of Goldcaster town. This has been a most instructive interlude, but I must rejoin the rest of my crew.’ He bowed low to her. ‘Goodbye Madam Paragon.’

‘Goodbye.’ said Aunt Hetty. ‘For the moment.’

‘Ah – you expect that we shall meet again?’

‘Quite possibly, Sir Jasper.’

‘Only possibly?’ He smiled. ‘Well, I have to give this enterprise my best shot, as we shall one day say. I owe that to myself and my crew. You appreciate that I am sure?’

‘Of course I do. Don’t forget young Archy.’ Aunt Hetty snapped her fingers and Archibald blinked, shook his head free of the dunce’s cap, and stepped down from the platform, much confused.

Jasper smiled. ‘And if the time comes, you will be gentle with me, won’t you?’

‘Fat chance. Goodbye.’

‘ “Farewell, goodbye, we wish you all adieu.” ‘sang Tantamount. ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow.” ‘

As they left Aunt Hetty flicked her finger at Archibald. A streak of silver light shot up his back to his head and then faded. His hair turned white and stood on end and stayed that way as Jasper remounted his horse and they rejoined the crew upon the green.

Peering from the stationery cupboard Elisabeth stifled a giggle. ‘Was that really necessary?’ she said.

‘Not strictly, no, but it gave me a great deal of satisfaction.’

‘You were tremendous.’ said Elisabeth. ‘You don’t need the bells.’

‘Oh, but I do – for the full package here in Summerdale. Elsewhere one either makes do or taps into whatever is appropriate. But he was quite right, there is something beneath these floorboards. A quartz packed standing stone is buried beneath the foundations. This was once the site of pagan rituals and lies where two ley lines cross. I just couldn’t resist the provocation.’

She rubbed her hands together with satisfaction. ‘Things are definitely starting to improve. I think I’ve given Sir Jasper the impression that he’s not in danger away from here. And we don’t want him getting back to Goldcaster before the bells are hung. I wonder how Alfred’s getting on?’

She was about to find out.

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