No time to congratulate himself on finding the true method of successful rat fighting. He slammed sideways trapping the rat on his arm against the barrel, slamming it repeatedly. It fell into the sand and Harry stood, ignoring the blows aimed at his head, and stamped on it before it could recover. The third rat was still clinging to his back, and he fell away from a particularly vicious swipe and felt the creature go into a frenzy of biting as it was crushed against the side. He rolled his body to and fro, trying to get extra purchase with his feet in the sand. It stopped biting, and as Harry pulled himself away it fell to the ground, twitching. It wasn't dead, but it was hurt enough to leave while he fought the others.

  The other four had stayed out of the battle, and as luck would have it, two of them were now fighting each other, trying in their starvation to make a meal of their fellow creature. Harry ignored them and threw himself towards another one which adopted the same pose as the first, freezing in its position as it stared him in the eye. Again that pause before the rat leapt. This one was quicker, or he was slower. No matter, Harry felt the thin skin of his eyelid tear as he jerked his head to get rid of it. The rat landed on all fours and turned to face him again. He saw out of the corner of his blooded eye that the two others were still fighting. He tried to locate the last one but he couldn't see it. Then he felt it running up his back. He ignored that and faced his opponent again. This time, when it leapt, he was the quicker, but he didn't get it right for its head went right into his mouth. He bit hard through its neck until he felt the bone, keeping up the pressure till it went limp.

  It was still in his mouth, its blood running down his chin, when he stomped on the two who were fighting each other. The last rat was savaging the back of his neck and he spun and twisted to dislodge it. The sound outside the pit had reached a crescendo, mingled cheers and cries of unfair. Finally he managed to jerk it off and Harry dropped back on to his knees, following it down as it twisted and fell. He didn't go for it, knowing that if he did it would simply scurry away, wasting valuable time. He waited, inching closer and looking it in the eye.

  This one was not to be tempted so easily, and they stared at each other for several seconds. Harry reckoned that if he blinked it would attack, trying to get him in the fraction of a second his eye was closed. Time? How much had he left? He went for the rat quickly, and this seemed to surprise the animal, for it was slow to try and get out of the way. But it did succeed in leaping sideways and attacking his exposed cheek. Again Harry had to raise himself and shake his head to dislodge it, losing another half an inch of skin. Then he was on his knees again, holding its gaze. This time the rat didn't wait, but went straight for him. Harry caught it beautifully, and in one sweeping movement dispatched it. It went limp, but he held its fur in his teeth while he killed off the other rats that lay wounded around the arena. Again he stood up and looked Bartholomew in the eye, thinking there was a neck he like to get his teeth into.

  "Seven minutes for seven rats, Ludlow. There was no admiration in the voice, more irritation. He looked over the pit towards Beldeau. I think you claim too much for your creatures, Beldeau. You'd better sort out something more ferocious for the morrow.

  Bartholomew turned his attention back to Harry, glancing at his watch. We shall begin earlier tonight, Ludlow, and rest assured that we shall carry on until the game is done. For I must sail on the ebb the day after, and when I do, you shall be either blind or dead."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Harry's head ached abominably, both from the blows he'd received and those he'd inflicted on himself by bashing his head against the side of the barrel. At least they'd untied him, although that had led to a painful period as the blood rushed back into his hands. He was drifting in and out of sleep as he tried to think of some way out of this prison. Nothing came. The sound of voices made him jerk himself into life and his heart sank. Surely his time hadn't elapsed so quickly? Harry pressed his ear against the staves. Voices yes, but not the sound of a crowd. Two people, perhaps three, in quiet conversation. The thud was quite audible, and Harry heard the scrabbling sound as someone tried to open the door. He braced himself to attack, and as the door swung open his fist was half-way to Fairhairn's face. By the time Harry had pulled his punch, the strength was out of the blow. But it was still sufficient to knock the skeletal surgeon flat on his back. Harry, carried forward by his momentum, followed him out through the doorway, landing right on top of the man and driving the wind out of his body. Looking sideways he found himself staring into the sightless eyes of a sailor, no doubt placed to guard him. His body was sprawled untidily on the floor, the back of his skull a bloody mess. A cooper's hammer lay beside him.

  Fairhairn was trying to get to his feet, and Harry instinctively grabbed at him to help. He then picked up the hammer, looking around to see if there was a more potent weapon laying about. The surgeon was shaking like a leaf, and as he pointed towards the sailor on the floor his fin trembled alarmingly. He spoke in short bursts, gulping great breaths of air as he did so. Couldn't let it pass. Barbarians. I fear I've killed the poor fellow."

  He was no poor fellow to Harry; more likely he was one of the people who'd stood on the step and swiped at him in the pit. He grabbed Fairhairn, who seemed to have frozen, staring at the corpse, and dragged him towards the doorway that led into the alley. Pulling it open, he pushed Fairhairn through. Hands grabbed him immediately. So did Harry, catching the surgeon by the collar and attempting to drag him back into the warehouse. Fairhairn became the object of an uncomfortable tug of war which Harry, in his weakened state, was bound to lose.

  He swung the hammer, knowing that he was as likely to harm his rescuer as those holding him. He caught one of the hands gripping the surgeon, causing the man to let go with a cry of pain. But he was still being hauled out into the alley. He would either have to surrender Fairhairn, or take his chances in the open. The choice was taken from him. Another, much larger, pair of hands grabbed the surgeon, and gave him such a powerful tug that Harry was catapulted out through the door, tripping and falling to his knees.

  "Christ Almighty, cried Pender. Let the poor bastard go! "

  He grabbed Harry and hauled him to his feet. No time for words to explain what his servant was doing here. Lubeck, who had pulled both of them out of the doorway with apparent ease, hoisted Fairhairn easily and then ran off down the alley, not stopping till they were well away from the warehouse. Harry, gasping for breath counted the rescue party. It was still dark but he could see their faces in the moonlight. Ten men. Where were the rest of his crew?

  Pender must have guessed what was in his mind from the look in his eye. That's all we could muster, Captain. The rest were swayed by Sutton."

  "Sutton?"

  "Ay. He said that what happened to you was none of their concern. You worked them hard for a couple of square meals. It took more'n a bit of grub to get him courtin a row with Bartholomew."

  "What the devil are you doing here?"

  Mr.. James Ludlow's instructions, your honour. He said, begging your pardon, that you were safe enough at sea, but that you was like a child ashore, and shouldn't be let out of sight. He told me to keep an eye on you, an only to make my presence known if you seemed about to leave."

  Harry gave a rueful smile, and silently thanked his brother. He looked round as his eyes lit on the surgeon, who was still being held up by Lubeck. Fairhairn, are you all right?

  "No, sir, I am not, the surgeon gasped, for the big German, not sure what was going on, still had him round the throat.

  "Gently, Lubeck. The blond giant looked at him, then let Fairhairn go. He dropped to his knees holding his throat, and Harry staggered over to help him to his feet.

  "The Principessa?"

  Pender pointed to Lubeck. This fellow took her out from the quay side after she'd finished loading stores. That's why it took so long to get a rescue party together. She's anchored outside the harbour."

  "Do we have a boat, Pender?"

  "We do."

  "Come, Mr. Fairhairn. I fear that Ma Thomas's inn is not a place you should return to."

  "The cutter is moored near the Customs Fort, said Pender.

  "Let's go. He led the way north along the quay side stumbling as he ran, for Harry was on the verge of collapse. His head was throbbing, and each bite and scratch seemed to have a painful life of its own. Pender, who must have wondered at his condition, took him by the elbow to help him, and Harry turned to give his servant a smile. He saw the teeth flash in the moonlight, and that one sign that Pender was confident made him feel that the situation could be rectified.

  They were in the boat, pulling hard out of the harbour with the first hint of dawn in the sky. Pender, now that he had time, was anxiously examining what he could see of Harry's face.

  "I damn near missed you. When you went off in that sedan chair, I took my time, thinkin I knew where you was goin'. These alleys all look alike, specially in the dark. I got well lost. And then when I found that villa there was none of those hands outside like last time, it seemed that you set off back to the ship. I was just deciding to make my way back to the quay, when you came out."

  Harry leant over and touched Pender's arm. You saw them take me?"

  "Ay, though I heard more'n I saw. But there were too many to tackle, even though I had pistols. I stood as much chance of hittin you as them."

  Tired as he was, Harry was thinking of what he needed to do next. That he was going to kill Bartholomew, he didn't doubt, and everything else would take second place to that. How was he going to accomplish it was a mystery. He didn't have enough men to attack Ma Thomas's or Bartholomew's boats, even if he could personally muster more than Pender and Lubeck had managed. If he waited until Bartholomew put to sea, he would be facing odds of five to one. Lightly crewed they might be, but with his four-pounder cannon, it would be suicide to try and take them all on. If only he had those twelve pounders sitting uselessly on the Dido. And what about those carronades?

  "Lubeck. Put the cutter about and head for the Dido."

  There was a moment's pause while the German slowly translated this. Another while he considered it. Then he did as Harry asked.

  "Whatever for, Captain?"

  "We're going to steal her, Pender."

  "What, that useless tub?"

  The boat lost some of its speed, as the rest of the men pulling on the oars exchanged looks and murmurs. They hadn't signed up for this when he took them on as crew, and they'd already done more than their share. Harry felt that, as his rescuers, they were entitled to an explanation. But ingrained habit made him contrive an excuse. Two ships are better than one, even a hulk like the Dido."

  They weren't satisfied, for the cutter's speed dropped even more. Harry cursed softly. I'm going to take and destroy Bartholomew. If I have to fight them all, I intend to. But him I want more than anything. I can't explain everything to you all right now, but I know I can do it. And I also know that he's heading for a rendezvous with some prizes. I intend to take those as well, and since there will only be one ship's crew, I dare say each share of the booty will amount to a tidy sum."

  His little speech hadn't quite done the trick. Money excited them. Death didn't. It was Pender who supplied the words that tipped the balance. One thing at a time, lads. Let's do as Captain Ludlow says for now, cause that looks easy. Then we can put our minds to the future in the light of day."

  The speed of the cutter increased immediately, and they sped towards the side of the Dido, racing past the other ships of Bartholomew's little squadron. No one was awake as yet, and if they had a man on watch, he wasn't paying much attention. Bartholomew hadn't bothered to put anyone aboard to guard the ship. He knew, as did Harry's boat crew, that it wasn't worth stealing. It wallowed in the gentle well, creaking alarmingly, and smelling of tar and rotting timber.

  Harry was first aboard, his energy restored by necessity. The others followed. The men who'd volunteered were the best of his new crew, and they ran quickly to carry out Harry's whispered instructions. There would be no time for hauling up anchors, and Harry gave Lubeck an axe and told him to stand by to cut the cables. A scrap of canvas was all Harry needed at this point, and he called out to the men to let the main course fall.

  The Dido strained on her anchors, with the sound of protesting wood coming from beneath Harry's feet. He called to Pender to organize the sailors who'd come down from setting the sails. Get some turpentine, some big wads of tow, and a couple of flints and tapers. Put two of them with axes to stand by on the stern anchor. As soon as Lubeck cuts through the bower, tell them to go to it. And fenders! We'll need fenders. Use the capstan bars if you have to.~ Harry nodded to Lubeck, who stood by the bows. The German swung the axe with all his might. The noise seemed to thunder out across the whole harbour as the man hacked away. Ten times he swiped at the heavy cable before it parted. The Dido's head swung round, and Lubeck ran down the deck to join the others hacking at the other, smaller, cable. It gave way with a loud crack and whistled into the water. The ship was clear, and Harry spun the wheel to take her out past the stern of the nearest of Bartholomew's ships. He had to lessen the odds, and he intended to start that right now.

  "Lubeck, take the wheel. The German rushed to his side. Steer me across the hawse of that polacre."

  "That's the Bella, a voice said. Captain Freeman! "

  A pity it wasn't Bartholomew's, but that couldn't be helped. Harry grabbed a hefty bunch of tow and (lashed it to a capstan bar, calling to the others to do the same. He then stove in the cask of turpentine that Pender had fetched from below. The tow was dipped in the turps, soaking it up. By the time that Lubeck had them close to the Bella, they had a dozen of these missiles ready.

  Harry lit a taper with the flint, then a lantern. He knew he was taking a risk, for turpentine from the barrel had spilled all over the Dido's deck. But it was risk he was prepared to accept with a ship he didn't really want. As they sailed by the little flotilla, Harry lit the first bundle of tow. It flared up immediately. He stood like a Greek athlete with a javelin, aimed it at the Bella's rigging, and threw. It caught in the mizzen shrouds. These, covered in tar, and dry as under in this climate, flared up. Pender and the others followed his example. Soon the ship was covered in pricks of light. As they sailed by the stern, they snagged through the anchor cable with the Dido's bows. Harry and Lubeck leapt out on to the bowsprit. Straddling it, they hacked at the Bella's cable till it parted. Then it was fenders out to avoid the two ships colliding as the Dido drifted past the Bella's stern lights Harry threw his final missile through the open window of the main cabin.

  He could hear the cries of panic, for sailors feared fire aboard their ships more than anything else. It would have pleased Harry greatly if one of his missiles had gone down the main hatchway and set the magazine alight, but that was asking too much. The Bella was nevertheless beginning to burn merrily, and in enough places to cause those trying to fight the fire a lot of trouble. Reduced to one anchor, the burning ship swung round on her single cable and crashed into its neighbour.

  "Whose ship's that? he called out as he eased himself back on to the deck.

  "Frome's. The Ariel."

  "What's Bartholomew's ship called?"

  One of his hands reeled off the names. Daedalus. The others are Mercury, Captain Chittenden, and the other is Cromer. That useless sod Pilton has her."

  He saw the flames licking their way out of the Bella's main cabin. He must have landed his burning wad on some furnishings for it to ignite so quickly. It might not burn the ship to the waterline, for they'd likely put it out before that. But this polacre, damaged, would not sail with Bartholomew, reducing the odds by twenty per cent. Men from the Ariel were fending off the burning threat, ignoring the cries for help from their mates on the Bella.

  "Steer for the Principessa, he shouted to Lubeck. The Dido wallowed across the harbour, with Lubeck struggling to hold a course as it threatened to fall off with the leeway. Harry made his way to the small cabin.

  "Are you all right, Mr. Fairhairn?"

  The surgeon looked at him with his pale blue eyes. Where's Broadbridge?"

  "Dead, Mr. Fairhairn. But I don't have time now to tell you of the circumstances. The surgeon was still staring at him. I was not the cause, sir, my word on it."

  "Bartholomew?"

  "I don't rightly know. But after what happened tonight, it certainly wouldn't surprise me."

  Harry ran back on deck. Lubeck, as we come alongside, I want you to go aboard the Principessa. All hands about ship and get her out to sea. I'll need a dozen more men to sail this. That is if she doesn't sink on us first. I doubt you'll have much difficulty in catching us up.

  He turned to Pender and explained in English what he'd just told Lubeck in French. Some of the crew might not like it, your honour."

  Harry turned back to the German. Any signs of dissent from the crew, Lubeck, you have my permission to sling them over the side."

  The blond man grinned, his scarred face lighting up in the morning sky. The sun had yet to appear over the top of the mountains, leaving the port still in shadow. Harry looked back to where the Bella still blazed; it looked as though the crew were winning. He suddenly felt utterly exhausted, and he had to hold on to the bulwark to stay upright. Pender took his arm and led him towards the small cabin.

  "You'd better lay down now, Captain, afore you fall down."

  Fairhairn stood up as they entered. Harry flopped on to the cot, and the surgeon leant over him to examine the cuts, bites, and bruises that covered his face, shoulders and neck.