The Flag of Freedom Read Free Page A

in this remark and was impressed.
    â€˜It would do no harm,’ she conceded, in a similar spirit, ‘if you feel the inclination.’
    She cocked each of the pistols in turn and sighted along the barrels. Then she took one in each hand and led the way to the upper deck with Louisa following close behind.
    She had reached the top steps when the hatch cover was thrown back and she saw a man staring down at her. His face was bearded and swarthy and he wore a turban. She raised one of the pistols and had the satisfaction of seeing the face withdraw.
    Her satisfaction did not last long. There were shouted commands in a foreign tongue and the barrels of severalguns appeared over the edge of the hatch. Then she heard a voice she recognised.
    â€˜Whoever you are, you must come on deck – and without your weapons.’ It was the voice of the Captain, though somewhat more subdued than usual. ‘I regret to have to inform you that the ship has been taken.’
    Caterina swore an oath.
    â€˜What are we to do?’ Louisa hissed in her ear.
    â€˜There is not much we
can
do,’ Caterina admitted. ‘Save to make the best bargain that we can.’
    She mounted the last few steps of the ladder. In spite of Captain Fry’s instructions, she kept the pistols with her.
    To her considerable annoyance, she discovered the deck to be filled with men in beards and turbans, all staring at her and waving an assortment of weaponry. Their vessel was drawn up alongside. It was smaller than the
Saratoga
but more men lined the rails and clung to the rigging, all similarly attired and armed to the teeth.
    Caterina caught the eye of the
Saratoga
’s Captain. He looked suitably contrite. ‘I am truly sorry,’ he informed her, ‘but to avoid bloodshed I have surrendered the ship. Do please give up your pistols.’
    There was another man at his side. Though he wore a turban, his face was fair-skinned and his beard was reddish-blond. Caterina kept her pistols levelled.
    â€˜Kindly inform him, in whatever language he speaks, that I am a nun,’ she told the Captain. ‘A woman of God,’ she added, in case it lost something in the translation. ‘And that I will be treated with respect – or I will blow his brains out.’
    The man grinned widely. ‘A nun, is it? Then I am Sinbad the Sailor.’ He turned and said something in a foreign tongue which caused some amusement among his fellows. Then, turning back to Caterina, he told her: ‘I’d be the more inclined to believe ye, lass, if you was to put those irons down and conduct yourself as befits a woman of God.’
    Caterina frowned with displeasure, for she was not used to being laughed at.
    â€˜I take it you are English,’ she addressed him sternly. ‘And a renegade.’
    â€˜English be damned,’ said he, ‘and as to t’other, ye may take me for what ye like. Now put them down like a good lass, afore ye do yourself some harm.’
    â€˜Only when I have your assurance,’ she insisted, ‘that we will be treated with respect.’
    Ignoring this request but giving a wide berth to her pistols, he peered past her into the shadows below the hatch and reacted with exaggerated astonishment when he saw Louisa peer ing back up at him. ‘Well, damn me for a bampot,’ he declared obscurely, ‘there is another of them.’ And then, stepping back a pace and bowing low to Caterina, ‘Ye have my word on it, lass. If the word of a renegade has any value to ye.’
    Caterina considered for a moment, but in truth she had little choice in the matter. She raised her right hand high into the air and pulled the trigger. The subsequent explosion rather surprised her. She had not been at all sure that she had loaded them properly. She did the same with the other. A little theatrical, admittedly, but then she was still, in her heart, an actress – and besides, she had notbeen too