BOOKS BY WAYNE THOMAS BATSON
THE DOOR WITHIN TRILOGY
THE DOOR WITHIN
THE RISE OF THE WYRM LORD
THE FINAL STORM
PIRATE ADVENTURES
ISLE OF SWORDS
ISLE OF FIRE
Wayne Thomas Batson is the author of five best-selling novels: Isle of Swords, Isle of Fire, and The Door Within Trilogy. His books have earned awards and nominations including: Silver Moonbeam, Mom’s Choice® Silver, Cybil, Lamplighter, and American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year. A middle school reading teacher in Maryland for eighteen years, Wayne tailors his stories to meet the needs of young people, whom he cares so deeply about. Wayne writes adventures set in imaginative locales because he believes that on a deep level we all dream of doing something that matters and long for another world. When last seen, Wayne was tromping around the Westfarthing with his beautiful wife and four adventurous children.
© 2008 by Wayne Thomas Batson
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
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Scripture references are from the King James Version of the Bible.
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[email protected] Interior art and layout by Casey Hooper.
Map by Peter Glöege.
ISBN 978-1-4003-1512-3 (trade paper)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Batson, Wayne Thomas, 1968–
Isle of fire / Wayne Thomas Batson.
p. cm.
Summary: With eighteen-year-old Anne Ross at this side, Cat takes over as captain of the monks’ fleet to find the legendary villain known as the Merchant, but they, the pirate hunters, monks, and Commodore Blake, have been betrayed by King George and a once-trusted advisor.
ISBN 978-1-4003-1216-0 (hardback)
[1. Stowaways—Fiction. 2. Pirates—Fiction. 3. Vikings—Fiction. 4. Buried treasure—Fiction. 5. Christian life—Fiction. 6. George I, King of Great Britain, 1660–1727—Fiction. 7. Spanish Main—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B3238Isf 2008
[Fic]—dc22
2008010533
Printed in the United States of America
09 10 11 12 13 RRD 5 4 3 2 1
MY CAPTAIN, THANK YOU FOR GUIDING ME . . .
EVEN ON DARK AND MOONLESS NIGHTS
WHEN THE SHIP’S BELL STRIKES A LONELY TOLL,
AND THE WIND AND WAVE BUFFETS.
AND MAY ALL WHO SAIL THIS LONELY SEA REALIZE
YOU ARE THE REAL TREASURE . . . AND THAT
YOU ARE WITHIN REACH OF ALL.
CONTENTS
PRINCIPAL CAST
NAUTICAL TERMS
MAP
CHAPTER 1 SHADOWS OF THE PAST
CHAPTER 2 THE SEA WOLF GOES HUNTING
CHAPTER 3 THE CITADEl
CHAPTER 4 THE WHISPERING GALLERY
CHAPTER 5 THE NIGHTWALKER
CHAPTER 6 DIPLOMACY
CHAPTER 7 THE JUDGMENTS OF COMMODORE BLAKE
CHAPTER 8 AMONG THE RAUKAR
CHAPTER 9 THE BEARPIT
CHAPTER 10 CHASING GHOSTS
CHAPTER 11 EDMUND BELLAMY
CHAPTER 12 THE PORT OF LONDON
CHAPTER 13 A SLIPPERY CATCH
CHAPTER 14 A DEAD MAN’S TALE
CHAPTER 15 ELDREGN
CHAPTER 16 TREASURE IN THE SPIDER’S DEN
CHAPTER 17 COMMODORE BLAKE STANDS ACCUSED
CHAPTER 18 LA ISLA DESVANECENTE
CHAPTER 19 HACK AND SLASH
CHAPTER 20 MUTINY ON THE OXFORD
CHAPTER 21 WHEN ALL BECOMES DARKNESS
CHAPTER 22 ONSLAUGHT OF THE BERSERKERS
CHAPTER 23 AWAKENINGS
CHAPTER 24 TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCE
CHAPTER 25 CLUES AND COLD TRAILS
CHAPTER 26 SHADOWS
CHAPTER 27 ST. ALFRED’S DAY
CHAPTER 28 LIBERATION DAY
CHAPTER 29 SIEGE OF THE CITADEL
CHAPTER 30 THROUGH THE SPYGLASS
CHAPTER 31 DESPERATE MEASURES
CHAPTER 32 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH
CHAPTER 33 THE HURRICANE’S EYE
CHAPTER 34 OUT OF THE GRAY
CHAPTER 35 NO REGRETS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PRINCIPAL CAST
ANNE
Declan Ross’s adventurous daughter.
Anne has hazel eyes, red hair, and a fiery temper.
She longs to captain a ship of her own.
BARTHOLOMEW THORNE
The former captain of the Raven and an evil pirate; lost and presumed dead after the New Providence tsunami.
BJORN INGALAD
A champion Raukar warrior known for his deadly prowess in battle. He wears a triple necklace of sharp bear teeth.
CAT
Griffin Lejon Thorne, the son of Bartholomew Thorne.
His memory is just beginning to return.
He goes by his nickname “Cat.”
COMMODORE BRANDON BLAKE
The leader of the British naval forces in the Caribbean;
commissioned to lead the pirate-hunting Wolf fleet.
CUTLASS JACK BONNET
A renowned pirate and captain of the Banshee.
DECLAN ROSS
A Scottish pirate-hunter; captain of the Robert Bruce;
often called the Sea Wolf due to his notorious pirate past.
DMITRI
A dark-skinned Brethren monk. He is mischievous,
clever, and wields a weapon with lethal precision.
DOLPHIN BLAKE
The wife of Commodore Blake. She desperately wants to solve
the mysteries surrounding her parents and her birth.
EDWARD TEACH
The young quartermaster aboard the Raven’s Revenge; a beardless,
tall, broad-shouldered man who longs for a command of his own.
EDMUND SCULLY
A spy formerly for Bartholomew Thorne and now for the Merchant.
EZEKIEL JORDAN
A friend of Commodore Blake and
new quartermaster on the HMS Oxford.
FATHER BRUN
The abbot of the Brethren Order. He has built a fleet
to go after the Merchant.
GUTHRUM
The door warden and right-hand man for Hrothgar, king of the Raukar.
HEATHER
Thorne’s first wife who died in a fire but still haunts his mind.
HROTHGAR
The steward of the Raukar, who longs to resurrect Viking glory.
JACQUES ST. PIERRE
The chief gunner and blacksmith aboard the Robert Bruce;
has a penchant for explosives, fire, and business.
JULES
The massive, barrel-chested security officer and deck hand aboard the Robert Bruce.
KING GEORGE
The German-speaking king of England who speaks very little English. Later known as King George I, one of the greediest kings ever to reign in Britain.
LADY FLEUR
The wife of Hrothgar and queen of the Raukar.
NATHANIEL HOPPER
Left orphaned by the New Providence tsunami, he dreams of returning to England.
NUBBY
The cook and doctor on the Robert Bruce.
RED EYE
A powder monkey on the Robert Bruce w
ho is blind in one eye.
SIR NIGEL WETHERBY
An English naval officer. He disappeared after the tsunami at New Providence and is presumed dead.
STEDE
Ross’s quartermaster on the Robert Bruce.
He is from the West Indies. Stede is Declan Ross’s closest friend and most loyal crewman.
THE MERCHANT
A legendary villain sought by the Brethren.
ULF
Lady Fleur’s brother. After becoming a Christian, he left the Raukar and moved to Västervik, Sweden, where he and his family built a church. Soon many of the Raukar followed him, and they established a Christian community.
NAUTICAL TERMS
Aft: the back of the ship.
Bow: front of the ship.
Bowsprit: long pole extending forward from the bow of the ship.
Crow’s-nest: a small lookout platform usually high on the mainmast of a ship.
Forecastle: the front of the ship, often where the crew’s quarters are located.
Halyard: rope used to pull a sail up.
Hull: the body of a boat or ship.
Jib-rigged: ship’s sails that are triangular in shape.
Keel: the structural spine that runs along the bottom of the ship.
Mast: tall pole that supports all the ship’s sails.
Poop Deck: rearmost deck of the ship.
Port: if standing on the deck and facing the front of the ship, port is left.
Quarterdeck: raised deck behind the mainmast where the ship’s wheel is found.
Spar-collar: (sometimes known as a gooseneck) a moveable iron collar used to hold horizontal spars to the mast.
Spar: long horizontal pole that a sail is attached to.
Square-rigged: ship’s sails that are square in shape.
Starboard: if standing on the deck and facing the front of the ship, starboard is right.
Stern: the back of the ship.
The watch: a four-hour period when a sailor is on duty.
1
SHADOWS OF THE PAST
Dead leaves swirled across the cold stone as Cat approached the deepest corner of the empty cobblestone courtyard. He could feel the sentinels watching from hidden places within the surrounding walls and towers. His eyes darted about for any sign of a threat. Behind the ever-sleeping volcano, the sun struggled to midday height in the steel-gray sky.
Without warning, a fierce cry came from the parapets above. A shadow passed overhead, and Cat ducked. Instinctively his grip tightened on the quarterstaff as he prepared to defend himself against one of the most peculiar men he’d ever seen. His skin was very dark like the islanders, but his hair, eyebrows, and moustache were whiter than the sand on Aruba. He wore a silver ring in the lobe of his left ear and a small gray cross on a thin black cord around his neck. He held a quarterstaff of dark wood that was at least a foot longer than Cat’s.
“I am Dmitri,” said the man, removing his robe. He was shirtless beneath but wore an odd, baggy kind of breeches that bunched at his waist and ankles. His gaze was dark and seemed to smolder like volcanic rock. The warrior slapped his staff hard on the cobblestone and stepped forward menacingly.
Cat held up his own staff. He thought he was ready.
Dmitri’s strike was swift and heavy. His dark staff crashed into Cat’s staff with such force that Cat reeled sideways. Cat didn’t see the second stroke, the one that swept his feet out from under him. He felt a sudden jolt on his backside as he hit the ground and found himself staring at the sky.
Cat swallowed, tightened his grip on his staff, and levered himself to his feet. He rolled his shoulders and his neck and then brought his staff up hard to his chest. He’s toying with me, Cat thought. Determined not to let Dmitri strike first, Cat feinted with a sweeping right-handed attack to Dmitri’s body. The moment Dmitri showed a vertical guard, Cat brought a furious left-handed stroke at Dmitri’s right thigh. But Dmitri’s initial guard was itself a feint. He turned in a blur, batted down Cat’s attack, and shoved the left end of his staff into Cat’s shoulder. Cat staggered backward, his weapon clattering to the ground.
The pain was sharp and throbbing. Cat tasted bile in his throat. He grunted indignantly and picked up his staff.
Dmitri swung at Cat’s left shoulder and followed it with a swift poke at Cat’s chest. Cat didn’t block it but turned to let the blow glance off. Cat jabbed the end of his staff at Dmitri’s legs, but Dmitri countered too quickly. Cat grunted. He grew fatigued and increasingly frustrated. It was like dueling Red Eye with a sword—Cat knew he was overmatched and hated it.
Cat grunted again, trying to clear his head and make himself think. He knew he needed to slow Dmitri’s countermoves, needed to buy time. He had to think ahead—way ahead. Then he had it: a combination of attacks he felt sure he could pull off. It began with a high feint. Cat went at Dmitri’s left ear with a strong, hacking stroke, but instead of bouncing off Dmitri’s guard and spinning back inside, Cat stepped away and let his staff slide off. He spun quickly outside of Dmitri’s sweeping reply, brought his staff under his arm, and stabbed it backward into Dmitri’s midsection. As Cat expected, Dmitri parried away the jab. Cat used the momentum to spin a second time. This time, as Cat came around, he used both hands to deliver a crushing high-to-low chop at Dmitri’s head. It was like splitting wood with an axe—just aim for the center. Cat knew Dmitri would have to block the blow with the center of his own staff, between his hands. When Dmitri did so, Cat kept the pressure on, momentarily pinning Dmitri. But in the span of a heartbeat, Cat jerked back with his left hand and wrenched a sudden upward thrust with his right. He meant to bring the right end of his staff under Dmitri’s left shoulder, a devastating blow . . . if only he could connect. But he could not.
Dmitri ignored the coming attack. He simply let his own high block collapse down to shoulder level. Then he exploded both fists forward, burying them and the center of his staff into Cat’s chest. Cat flew backward, his feet scrambling for ground but to no avail. He sprawled onto his back, and in a daze, he blinked at the sky. His ears rang, and he tasted blood.
Cat wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, grabbed his staff, and tried to stand. He had been beaten soundly, and as he gained his feet, he found himself shaking. But it was not from fatigue. Rage boiled up inside of Cat such that every breath felt hot in his nostrils. Energy surged into his muscles, and his heart raced. He approached Dmitri with singular purpose.
Dmitri did not know Cat, did not recognize the intensity of Cat’s glare. Thinking the battle was over, Dmitri dropped his guard. Cat lunged and cracked his staff against Dmitri’s left wrist. Dmitri dropped his weapon, clutched his hand, and began to backpedal.
“Cat, NO!” shouted Father Brun. But Cat heard nothing but the thunderous cadence of his own heart. Cat slammed Dmitri’s right shoulder. Then he spun and drove the end of his staff into Dmitri’s gut. Dmitri doubled over, and Cat went to finish him off. He raised his quarterstaff high and brought it crashing toward Dmitri’s head. But a dark staff caught the blow and flung it away.
It was Father Brun. Quickly, he stepped between Dmitri and Cat. His eyes glinted as he stared at Cat. “What’s the matter with you?” he shouted. He took a step toward Cat.
“No!” said Dmitri as he stood. He grabbed his own staff back from Father Brun and gestured for him to stand aside. “The lesson is not complete.”
Father Brun reluctantly moved, but stood ready to intervene. Dmitri glared at Cat. Cat wanted to look away, but found he could not. “Is that the man you are?” Dmitri asked. He held up his staff and then cast it aside. “I am unarmed, you see? Would you like to strike me again?”
Cat’s lips thinned. He swallowed, and all at once the rage drained away and he felt empty . . . and ashamed. He threw away his staff and sprinted back across the courtyard. He ran clumsily up a flight of steps, half stumbling as he reached the top. He raced back to his chamber and slammed the door shut behind him.
Cat
turned and saw the mirror. He’d meant several times to ask one of the Brethren to remove it—to make his room as austere as their own, but the almost constant training had pushed the mirror from his mind. Until now. Now, it taunted him . . . drew him with the treacherous gravity one feels looking over the edge from some great height. Despondently, he drew near and gazed at himself in the glass.
Blue eyes, gleaming intensely beneath thickening brows, high angular cheekbones sliced by sideburns, a narrow tapering nose, and thin frowning lips—in all but the hair, the visage of his father.
“I . . . I am just like him,” Cat whispered. Bartholomew Thorne’s cruel image lingered like a scornful ghost. Cat wished he’d never remembered his father’s face, his sickening voice, his heinous deeds. And worse yet were the newest memories to return, the ones concerning Cat himself. A horrifying image from the island of Roseau flickered in his mind. “NOOOOO!!” In a rage, Cat picked up a chair and flung it. The mirror shattered, scattering shards of glass all over the room.
Cat fell to his knees and grabbed a jagged knifelike piece of the mirror that lay nearby. He clutched it so hard the glass bit into the flesh of his palm. He dropped the shard and looked at the blood glistening on his hand. Cat wondered at the irony and felt the cold finger of fear on his spine. Blood on my hands. If only I could remember.
2
THE SEA WOLF GOES HUNTING
That’s Cutlass Jack Bonnet, or I’m an eel,” said Declan Ross, handing the spyglass to Stede.
“Uh-huh . . .” The quartermaster of the Robert Bruce nodded. “Him b’ the only pirate this side of the Barbary Coast sailing a xebec. Him b’ calling it the Banshee.”
“Quicker than a sloop,” said Anne, who stood at their side. “But not quicker than the Bruce, right, Da?”
“Yes,” he said with a smile that conveyed a mixture of pride and affection for his daughter and her love of ships. Then he shouted, “Mister Hack, more sail!”
“Aye, sir!” called the musical voice of the ship’s new master carpenter from some unseen nook on the main deck. A huge, square sail dropped down on the mainmast and filled with wind. The Bruce, a formidable Portuguese man-of-war with three masts loaded with square sails, lurched forward and gained on the smaller Banshee. Cutlass Jack’s sleek xebec had three long shark-fin sails that allowed it to outrun or outmaneuver most vessels, but even with a gale wind it could not escape. The two ships raced along the northern coast of South America.