Read Online Sebastian Darke: Prince of Pirates by Philip Caveney - Free Book Online
Authors: Philip Caveney
Ads: Link
grabbed his sword and followed him. They ran side by side in silence, neither of them wanting to believe what was happening. But they only had to travel a short distance to confirm their worst fears. The caravan was burning. Everything they owned was going up in flames.
When they finally reached the blazing shell, it was too late to save anything. The flames were too powerful, leaping up as though trying to claw at the sky. They found Max wandering agitatedly round the fire, shaking his head and apologizing to anyone who would listen.
'I'm so sorry,' he said. 'It's not my fault. I was having a wonderful dream in which I was eating my way through an entire field of sweet berries, and then I woke up and the caravan was already burning. I couldn't find you two and I had no way of putting it out. I tried weeing on it, but I couldn't produce enough. Oh dear! What's going to happen to us now?' He thought of something. 'Oh no! The barrels of pommers – I was looking forward to those!'
Sebastian couldn't find the words to reply. He stood there watching in disbelief as a large part of his young life was destroyed. It wasn't just the food and supplies they'd brought for the expedition, though that was bad enough. All his father's props and costumes had been in the caravan; his journals, his boxes of souvenirs and mementos from the glory days when he was jester to the king's court. Such treasures had little material value but were irreplaceable.
Cornelius made a sound of disgust and spat onto the earth at his feet. 'Still think so highly of your precious Leonora now?' he growled. Lit by the glow of the fire, his face looked positively diabolical. 'She's been creeping around in the dark again.'
'Just as you were,' snapped Sebastian. 'Only you had cold-blooded murder on your mind. She merely wanted to deprive us of our comfort.'
'Think so? For all she knew we could have been sleeping in there.'
Sebastian sighed and shook his head, realizing that it was pointless to stand there debating the matter. He glanced at Max, who was still pacing anxiously up and down.
'Well, one thing's for certain,' he said. 'For some time now I've been talking about the possibility of making a career change. Looks like I no longer have any choice in the matter.' He took off his jester's hat and threw it into the blaze. The fabric caught fire immediately and went up in a flash of sparks.
The three of them stood there in silence and watched the burning caravan. It went on blazing all through the night.
C HAPTER 9
ON FOOT
When the wooden embers of the caravan were finally reduced to a pile of grey ash and blackened timber, they set about rescuing whatever they could. It was precious little. A few metal tools and knife blades had survived, along with a handful of coins and a couple of stone pots, but everything else had perished. Refusing to be downcast, Cornelius set about making backpacks out of the bedrolls, telling the others that maybe it was all for the best.
'That old caravan was only slowing us up,' he said as he stowed his few remaining belongings in his pack. 'It's better this way: we'll travel faster and we can easily buy more provisions when we get to Ramalat. I'm told that the markets there are the finest in the known world. Luckily the treasure map was here at my breast the whole time. If that had been in the caravan, then we really would have been in trouble. So things aren't as bad as they may seem.'
'You are the eternal optimist,' observed Sebastian. 'If somebody had cut off our legs in the night, you'd say it was all the better for us to walk on our hands.'
'Oh, it's not so bad. What was in that caravan anyway?'
'Well, let me see now. Tools, cooking implements, weapons—'
'That's not what I meant. I'll tell you what was in there – a bunch of old memories, tying you to the past. Now you are free to concentrate on the future.'
Max looked particularly unconvinced by this.
When they finally reached the blazing shell, it was too late to save anything. The flames were too powerful, leaping up as though trying to claw at the sky. They found Max wandering agitatedly round the fire, shaking his head and apologizing to anyone who would listen.
'I'm so sorry,' he said. 'It's not my fault. I was having a wonderful dream in which I was eating my way through an entire field of sweet berries, and then I woke up and the caravan was already burning. I couldn't find you two and I had no way of putting it out. I tried weeing on it, but I couldn't produce enough. Oh dear! What's going to happen to us now?' He thought of something. 'Oh no! The barrels of pommers – I was looking forward to those!'
Sebastian couldn't find the words to reply. He stood there watching in disbelief as a large part of his young life was destroyed. It wasn't just the food and supplies they'd brought for the expedition, though that was bad enough. All his father's props and costumes had been in the caravan; his journals, his boxes of souvenirs and mementos from the glory days when he was jester to the king's court. Such treasures had little material value but were irreplaceable.
Cornelius made a sound of disgust and spat onto the earth at his feet. 'Still think so highly of your precious Leonora now?' he growled. Lit by the glow of the fire, his face looked positively diabolical. 'She's been creeping around in the dark again.'
'Just as you were,' snapped Sebastian. 'Only you had cold-blooded murder on your mind. She merely wanted to deprive us of our comfort.'
'Think so? For all she knew we could have been sleeping in there.'
Sebastian sighed and shook his head, realizing that it was pointless to stand there debating the matter. He glanced at Max, who was still pacing anxiously up and down.
'Well, one thing's for certain,' he said. 'For some time now I've been talking about the possibility of making a career change. Looks like I no longer have any choice in the matter.' He took off his jester's hat and threw it into the blaze. The fabric caught fire immediately and went up in a flash of sparks.
The three of them stood there in silence and watched the burning caravan. It went on blazing all through the night.
C HAPTER 9
ON FOOT
When the wooden embers of the caravan were finally reduced to a pile of grey ash and blackened timber, they set about rescuing whatever they could. It was precious little. A few metal tools and knife blades had survived, along with a handful of coins and a couple of stone pots, but everything else had perished. Refusing to be downcast, Cornelius set about making backpacks out of the bedrolls, telling the others that maybe it was all for the best.
'That old caravan was only slowing us up,' he said as he stowed his few remaining belongings in his pack. 'It's better this way: we'll travel faster and we can easily buy more provisions when we get to Ramalat. I'm told that the markets there are the finest in the known world. Luckily the treasure map was here at my breast the whole time. If that had been in the caravan, then we really would have been in trouble. So things aren't as bad as they may seem.'
'You are the eternal optimist,' observed Sebastian. 'If somebody had cut off our legs in the night, you'd say it was all the better for us to walk on our hands.'
'Oh, it's not so bad. What was in that caravan anyway?'
'Well, let me see now. Tools, cooking implements, weapons—'
'That's not what I meant. I'll tell you what was in there – a bunch of old memories, tying you to the past. Now you are free to concentrate on the future.'
Max looked particularly unconvinced by this.
Similar Books
The Bitter Road to Freedom: The Human Cost of Allied Victory in World War II Europe
William I. Hitchcock
