Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [65]
He jumped down from the rope and grabbed desperately at its tarred end. Keeping low, he managed to loop it around O’Kane’s legs and pulled with all his strength.
The pirate crashed to the deck with a roar of anger.
At once, Ben snatched up his cutlass and raced forward, clutching the hilt in both hands. Beneath him lay O’Kane, his big face pale and sweating. Still, the gunpowder in his beard sizzled and burnt, but he looked somehow pathetic, like a great sun god brought to earth. His expression was filled with dumb appeal and Ben hesitated as he prepared to thrust his cutlass into the pirate’s throat.
It was the chance O’Kane needed.
He slid across the wet planks and got to his feet with surprising agility, hurled the rope around Ben’s neck, and dragged him to the deck.
Ben let out a throaty gurgle as he fell and was instantly winded. O’Kane appeared, towering above him, his glittering cutlass poised to deliver a killing blow. Ben closed his eyes, seeing, for an instant, images of Polly, Jamie, and the Doctor.
He would never see them now, never have a chance to say goodbye...
There was a deep percussive crash and Ben’s eyes flicked open.
Captain Winter was swinging on a rope from the mast and had landed her feet squarely in O’Kane’s back.
‘Sal!’ cried Ben delightedly, struggling to his feet.
Winter dropped from the rope and gave Ben a reassuring smile. Then her cutlass flashed from its sheath and she advanced on O’Kane, who was on his knees, his head sunk on his chest, breathing stertorously.
‘Get up!’ barked Winter, jabbing O’Kane in the back with her sword.
The pirate got slowly to his feet and placed his hands upon his greasy red hair.
Winter and Ben positioned themselves some distance away, next to the gunpowder barrels, before Winter instructed O’Kane to turn around.
‘Now,’ bellowed Winter. ‘Tell us what your captain has brought back from Amsterdam.’
O’Kane merely grunted and looked out across the decks, which still hummed with battling men.
‘Tell us!’ barked Winter. ‘Or, so help me, I’ll have your lights for supper!’
O’Kane smiled ghoulishly. ‘Nay, lass. That’s a delicacy not fit for the likes of you!’
With a roar, he propelled himself forward. Caught off guard, Ben still managed to lash out with his cutlass, cutting O’Kane across the hamstring. The pirate howled with pain as he tried to get his big hands around Winter’s throat.
Winter smashed her fist into the pirate’s face and pushed him across the deck.
O’Kane tottered, slipped, and fell headlong into one of the open gunpowder barrels.
Ben looked at Winter. They paused for a second and then hared away towards the poop deck just as O’Kane’s sparking beard connected with the deadly powder.
There was a colossal explosion and barrel staves flashed though the air like curved wooden javelins.
Ben and Winter ducked down and waited for the smoke to clear. When it did, there was a big, headless pirate slumped on the deck beneath them.
Winter let out one of her characteristic throaty laughs and got to her feet.
‘We’ve not beaten them yet, Sal,’ croaked Ben. ‘Come on!’
He began to move off but Winter held him back. The big woman scanned the deck with her good eye and frowned.
‘Hold on a moment, Ben,’ she muttered. ‘My crew is battling well and young Hugh has the ship arights. What say you and me nip over to the Teazer to see what we may see?’
Ben was astonished. ‘Are you mad? Your ship’s being attacked! If we go over there we might not have anything to come back to!’
Winter tapped the end of her silver nose. ‘I have a score to settle with Stanislaus, my lad. Everything else can go hang!’
‘And what about the package from Amsterdam? We know they’re up to something. We can’t just let it go because you want Stanislaus’ guts for garters.’
Winter considered this, her beady black eye disappearing under her furrowed brow. ‘His guts would have to be wide to clap around these thighs!’ she cackled. Then she laid her hand on Ben’s arm and spoke more quietly. ‘I might never get a better chance, Ben. Me against him. On the open sea!