Page 138 of Storm over the Caribbean
“I did.” Before I could stop him, Mr Rikkard Ambrose took another step forward. Lifting his chin, he fixed his icy gaze upon the pirate captain. “What are you going to do about it?”
The captain’s eyes narrowed. He was a big man, I realized. Bigger even than Cyclops. His skin was so rough and craggy from constant exposure to the salty sea air that it looked like a rocky landscape. His whole face was covered with a rough, jet-black beard, and his entire body was littered with scars.
No…
Not hisentirebody, I realized. There were scars in many places—arms, legs, knuckles—but in certain places, his skin wasas smooth as a baby’s bottom. The skin over the heart. The head. The liver. All places which just so happened to hide vital organs.
This man is dangerous. Very dangerous.
“What am I going to do about it, he asks!” Chuckling, the captain drew his cutlass and twirled the massive weapon like a toy. With a broad grin, he looked down at the figure of Gaptooth on the ground. “How amusing! You didn’t teach the new crew members a lot about respect and discipline, did you?”
Gaptooth gave a nervous chortle. “Aye, well…seems so.”
“Well then…” The captain’s smile widened. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
And he stabbed his cutlass downwards. With a squelch, the blade buried itself in Gaptooth’s throat.
All of a sudden, silence reigned over the beach once more. In the distance echoed the call of a gull. Somewhere, a coconut dropped from a tree. Nobody dared to move.
“Now…” Withdrawing his cutlass from Gaptooth’s unmoving corpse, the captain raised the bloody blade towards Mr Rikkard Ambrose. “Do you still plan on challenging me, boy?”
Oh my.
I felt my eyes widen ever so slightly. Boy?
He shouldnothave said that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Where, before, his eyes had been at arctic temperature, they now were at absolute zero. Reaching over, he held his open hand out to Jack the Jackal.
“Sabre.”
“Huh?”
“Give me your sabre.Now.”
Swallowing hard, Jackal gripped his sabre. “Hey, um…are you sure? You—”
“Your. Sabre.Now!”
Three words. Every single one of which made clear how very much he didnotlike to repeat himself.
With a gulp, Jack handed over his sabre. Snatching the weapon, Mr Ambrose stabbed it into the air. “Men! Friends! Compatriots!” He took three long strides forward, then whirled around and spread his arms to encompass the crowd.
Wait a moment! Was he going to…?
Impossible!
But…
He really was, wasn’t he?
Mr Rikkard Ambrose was going to give a speech. Oh my. This was going to be good.
“Listen to him!” Stabbing his sabre at the captain, he swept his gaze across the gathered pirates. “Is this the man you’ve chosen to lead you? Is this supposed to be your captain? Apiratecaptain?” He spat into the sand. “If that man is a pirate then I am a bird-of-paradise. Pirates are free! Fierce! Unrestrained by rules and regulations! You all…!” He swept his arm across the crowd. “You joined because you don’t give a crap about the laws! You want to do whatever the hell you want, and nothing and no one can stand in your way! Not the army! Not the navy! And most certainly not the man who is supposed to lead you all!”
Once more, his gaze moved across the crowd, capturing everyone’s attention.
“Are you going to stand for this?”
