* * *
Again, there were explosions of gunpowder in unison and along the Magnifique’s lowest gun deck. The force of the propelled shots blasted holes on the starboard side of the Tempest and sent men and cannons flying into the deep waters of the ocean through other shattered gaps on her larboard side. A violent brawl had broken out aboard her and as if to show her annoyance with this incursion, she crashed into the Magnifique with a loud thud.
Matthew and Nora literally stepped over the small opening between both ships and impulsively ran towards the British warship’s quarterdeck, bravely facing any soldier who opposed them together but refusing to kill in this process. Many vagabonds followed the path they were creating.
“We must search the ship for Owen!” Matthew insisted as they left the officer’s mess hall. Heaps of clothing and boot pairs littered their path. “Told you he’s up to something!” he exclaimed and jumped over a fallen sailor.
“I just hope we are not late!” Nora prayed, following her brother over the seaman. Perhaps Owen did actually return to the Tempest and use the book on those whose names he knew. This was the only plausible reason for the heaps of seaman clothes and military red, boots and rifles they ran past as they looked in the berths for him. Perhaps those now trying to repel Blackbeard and his fellow pirates had quickly agreed that a heavy curse had befallen the ship’s crew leading to the mysterious disappearance of these men and had consequently made Owen their captain when he finally came on board. They must have discovered that their captain had also vanished before this, and could have attributed it all to the severity of his judgment on Matthew and his foster sisters.
“He’s not here!” Nora breathed, coming out from the last cabin. A fat soldier lumbered out from nowhere and towards her, and she sidestepped to wound his flank with her sword. “How did I do that?” she asked her companion as the fellow staggered to the ground, clutching his side.
“No time to waste!” Matthew hurried her. “We must check the forecastle!”
“Blown away, remember?” she ruled out.
“Then to the gun deck!” Matthew proposed, hurrying out before his sister could protest.
Fighting still went on outside. The screams and yells of those dying and killing mutilated the terrible shrieks of thunder tailing flashes of lightning in the pounding torrential.
“Matthew, they’re coming this way!” Nora warned and her foster brother pushed open a trapdoor when he realized she was right. The British sailors and Royal Marines were being pushed back towards the stern by the pirates and Matthew pulled Nora in behind him before the worst could happen!
The gun deck was in shambles. Dead and dying bodies littered it amidst acrid gun smoke and the smell of copious blood. The Magnifique’s cannon muzzles directly faced them through the uneven holes on the Tempest’s starboard side. There was no sign of Owen.
“The hold!” Matthew cried, dropping to a trapdoor with much uneasiness to pull it open with clammy hands. He climbed down ahead of Nora and thankfully looked around him with the dim light coming from a distant lantern.
“At last!” a voice that was rapidly becoming familiar growled near the source of light. “I knew you would come to look for him! I was right about your real identities!”
Nora stopped behind her brother, breathing hard.
“We just want it back,” Matthew said, and the old one-eyed man laughed heartily. Owen groaned at his feet and Matthew started forward.
“Don’t you dare,” the voice warned. The boy’s eyes were becoming accustomed to the light and he saw that ‘Dr. Brooks’ covered them with two pistols. “Don’t you dare,” the man threatened him again. “I’ve spent a year here and wouldn’t want to spend another without some reprieve, you hear? But that aside, guess who I met while fighting today! My dear Steve back in the days! Served with me in Gulf War Two, and now calling himself Owen. Hmmm...nice name, though, but guess what I saw with him today? The black book!”