Read Online The Angel's Command by Brian Jacques - Free Book Online

for their water. Ned stopped at the back of the canvas-sheet galley, alerting Ben with a swift thought. “Don’t make any noise, mate. Come and listen to this.”
    Ludon and Grest were whispering to a man named Ricaud as they served him water. “When we were moored at Santa Marta, Thuron kicked me, just because I tried to stop that cur from barking!” Ben overheard Ludon complaining. He also heard Ned’s indignant mental reply.
    â€œCur? Huh! Listen to that scurvy mongrel!”
    Grest was in agreement with Ludon. “Aye, if that lad an’ his dog are so lucky, then why are we runnin’ from a privateer, with hardly a bite to eat nor a drop to drink? Call that lucky?”
    Ricaud was a whiner, Ben could tell by his voice. “A drop is right. How can a man survive on only this lousy dribble of water? How much is left in that barrel, Grest?”
    They heard Grest swish the water as he tipped the barrel. “Not enough to get us through tomorrow. We might be sightin’ land about then. I’ll tell ye one thing, though, Thuron’s out to cause trouble for me. I’m not staying aboard this ship. Once I’m ashore I’ll be off. There’s plenty more vessels lookin’ for crew round those two islands.”
    Ludon’s voice answered him. “Let me know when ye jump ship. I’m not stayin’ aboard to be kicked around. How about you, Ricaud?”
    There was a chuckle from Ricaud. “The great Cap’n Thuron wouldn’t be so high’n’mighty without a crew. I’m with ye, an’ I’ll put the word round. I wager there’s more’n a few among us who’d be wanted by the authorities back in France.”
    Ludon sounded cautious. “You’re right, mate, but don’t let Pierre or the Anaconda know, they’re loyal to Thuron. Just ask around, easy-like, but make sure you talk to the right men.”
    Ned stared at Ben, transmitting his thoughts. “You go and see the cap’n. I’ll keep my ears and eyes open around here. Tell him what you’ve heard, Ben.”
    Thuron was scanning the horizon through his telescope and had his back to Ben. On hearing the boy’s footsteps behind him, the Frenchman turned. Ben felt embarrassed at having to tell his friend what he had heard. “Cap’n . . . I . . . er . . .”
    The buccaneer stared into his companion’s mysterious blue eyes: he saw ageless honesty mingled with storm-clouded distant seas. He smiled to ease the boy’s discomfort. “Speak up, lad. What’s troubling you?”
    Ben tried again. “It’s the crew. They’re . . .”
    The Frenchman nodded knowingly. “Planning to desert the Marie when we make landfall. Don’t look so surprised, Ben—it doesn’t pay for a captain to be ignorant of his crew’s feelings. No doubt you’ve heard the muttering and spotted the hard glances. I’ve watched them, too, for a while. Ah, they aren’t bad men, really, but they get like that from time to time. Well, look at it their way. We’ve run from Rocco Madrid, been attacked by the privateers and now we’re about to run out of rations. What right-thinking seaman wouldn’t want to leave such a vessel? The Caribbean isles are friendly and sunny, and there’s other ships in their harbours for a man to make his berth in. Besides, some of this crew are wanted men in France, most in the pirating trade are.” He laughed. “I probably am myself, but I’m rich and willing to take my chance.”
    Ben could not help but admire his friend’s wisdom and easygoing outlook. Even so, he felt bound to ask the question, “What do you plan on doing about it, sir?”
    Thuron faced the sea and put the glass back to his eye. “Oh, I’ve made my plans, lad. The first is to sight land and get all hands ashore in a place where I can keep my eye on them. Not some waterfront