Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [62]
He led the way out of the room.
‘”Come into my custody,” said the spider to the fly,’
whispered the Doctor to Jamie.
The young Scot was not amused. ‘What’re we going to do now?’
The Doctor put his hands behind his back. ‘Don’t worry.
I’ve got an idea. If that works out, then...’
‘Then?’
The Doctor ran his hand through his untidy black hair.
‘Then I think it’s time we got out of here.’
Ben and Winter raced across the rolling deck, the latter clutching at Ben’s arm to prevent herself toppling over.
The crew of the Demeter were already racing to their stations as their captain pulled a battered telescope from her huge green coat and jammed it against her eye.
She squinted, then nodded feverishly. ‘I see her.’
Ben leaned over the side and peered through the spray.
‘Pirates?’
Winter offered him the telescope. ‘Talk of the devil.’
Squinting to see through the crude instrument, Ben made out the lines of an all-too-familiar ship, racing through the waves towards them.
‘It’s the Teazer!’ he gasped.
Winter nodded her massive head. ‘Aye, Ben. It seems the Pole’s not content with this secret package. He wants to return to port with booty from us!’
Ben handed her back the telescope. ‘What do we do?’
Winter looked at him in surprise. ‘Do? Do, lad? We do what any self-respecting mariner does in times such as these.
We fight!’
Ben swallowed nervously. ‘Yeah, I thought you were going to say that.’
Winter swung round, her great bosom jostling, her coat flapping like a sail around her.
‘To your posts, men!’ she bellowed. ‘Let’s give ’em a taste of our Cannon!’
So saying, she drew her sword and tottered off across the deck her wooden leg hammering on the planks. She pulled open the door of her cabin and emerged a moment later with a brace of cutlasses. Tossing one to Ben, she made for the entrance to the lower deck, where the cannons were located.
Ben caught the sword and tested its weight in his hands. It was surprisingly heavy and he curled both hands around its hilt to give himself courage.
There was a loud report close by, followed by a plume of white water as the Teazer‘s cannons fired their first salvo.
Ben raced down the wooden stairs to the second deck where Winter and her men were already hard at work. Hugh, the cabin boy, was ramming wadding and powder into the closest of the great iron guns while a small man, stripped to the waist, was doing the same with its twin.
Winter clapped the telescope to her eye again and thrust it out of the square porthole that enclosed the cannon. ‘She’s fast. I’ll give her that!’
There was another tremendous boom and Ben felt the Demeter rock as the percussion echoed around her hull.
Winter staggered and almost fell, then, with a twinkle in her eye, struck a flint and lit the fuse of the first cannon.
‘Back!’ she roared and Ben jumped out of the way as the fuse hissed and spluttered.
Then the cannon reared backwards, a great cloud of smoke and fire belching from its mouth..
Ben raced to the porthole and looked out. The cannonball had missed Stanislaus’s ship by a wide margin. Winter cursed and flapped her great arm at the next cannon along.
Fire!’ she croaked. ‘Keep firing until we get the bastards!’
The second cannon spoke with a belching roar but this time Winter didn’t wait for the outcome. Spinning around on her wooden leg like a crazed ballerina, she began to hobble back up the stairs to the top deck, brandishing her cutlass and bellowing with rage.
Instinctively, Ben followed, resisting the urge to carry his own cutlass between his teeth. He pulled at the handholds and propelled himself up the stairs.
On the deck, all was confusion. Smoke from both ships cannons enveloped everything and Ben could only just make out the crew, tearing from point to point on the slippery surface.
The Demeter rolled again as another cannon shot from the enemy vessel thundered into the sea by her side.
Winter clattered towards the ship’s wheel and pushed the pilot out of the way with a tremendous shove.
‘By God!’ she screeched,