Read Online Vampirates: Tide of Terror by Justin Somper - Free Book Online Page B

she had felt she could make a home for herself on The Diablo .
    Remembering this brought tears to her eyes. She fished in the pocket of her coat and found a lacy handkerchief. Wiping her eyes, she glanced over at Connor. He smiled back at her faintly. He was trying to be strong, she knew. But she saw there were tears in his eyes too. Devoid, as always, of a handkerchief, Connor simply lifted his hand and brushed the tears away.
    “Well, then,” Molucco said softly, bringing the spell of silence to a close. “We come to the next part of our proceedings. Jez’s longtime comrade — and great friend — Bartholomew Pearce, will now say for us the Pirate’s Prayer. Bartholomew...”
    Molucco turned. Bart stepped slowly forward, clutching a piece of paper in his hand. He lifted his eyes to the assembled and began to speak.
Mother Ocean, Father Sky,
Send this pirate to his rest.
He was one among the best —
Set his spirit free to fly.
Brother Sun and Sister Moon,
Bathe him in your balmy light.
Now no longer need he fight —
The one you called back far too soon.
Lightning, thunder, wind, and rain,
Let his cutlass blunt and rust,
As his body turns to dust —
Free from every mortal pain.
Spring tide, neap tide, morning, night,
All you things that frame our days,
Carve him out a resting place —
Wherever will his cares be light.
Creek and harbor, gulf and reef
Waters shallow, waters deep,
Grant him now eternal sleep —
And anchor us who reel with grief.
    Bart hadn’t had to look once at the piece of paper in his hands. Grace guessed that it was an old poem, but the way Bart spoke it, each word seemed fresh and potent.
    There had even been a temporary lull in the wind, as if the elements themselves were paying heed to the pirate’s pleas for his lost comrade.
    Now, Bart turned and signalled to Connor and the four other pirates beside them. The six men, all wearing black armbands, arranged themselves around Jez’s coffin. On a quiet count, they lifted it as one and walked slowly and somberly to the prow of the ship. The skull and cross-bones flapped in the breeze.
    They held the coffin aloft for a moment and then let it drop down into the waters below. It met them with a terrible thud. Grace’s heart wrenched at the sound. But the noise was soon overwhelmed by a volley of cannon fire, during which Bart, Connor and their fellows resumed their positions.
    At the close of the cannon fire, Molucco Wrathe turned to his crew.
    “This has been a sad day, my friends, but there are two halves to mourning a death — first, the sadness and then, the celebration of a fine life. Tonight, we shall direct ourselves to Ma Kettle’s Tavern to drink a toast or two to Mister Stukeley.”
    There were sounds of approval across the deck — and although they were more muted than usual, the noise was a sign that things would soon return to normal about The Diablo . It seemed terribly sudden to Grace, but perhaps this was just the way things had to be aboard a pirate ship.
    “And now,” said the captain, “go about your business. Let no man say that The Diablo isn’t the finest pirate ship on all the seas.”
    Connor stood with Bart on one side and Grace on the other. He needed them now, more than ever. He had always known that the life of a pirate could be brief. His first night aboard ship, Bart had told him, “I’ll be lucky to see my thirtieth birthday.” Connor had registered the words, but only now did he really understand how true they were. The Three Buccaneers were supposed to have been invincible. Jez was only twenty-three — far too young to die. But, thought Connor, when you sign up to be a pirate, you accept that you are never too young to die. He was only fourteen, but he could just as easily lose his own life during the next battle. He couldn’t risk leaving Grace all alone in the world. He’d have to smarten up and stop day-dreaming. And he’d have to watch Captain Wrathe a little more carefully, too. He couldn’t