Page 3 of Tides of Fire

Are we about to be similarly entombed?

Moments later, the waters behind the ship swelled up, as if a great sea beast were surfacing and closing upon them.

“Hold tight!” Hemple bellowed to the crew.

The surge lifted the stern high, before rocking it down again, teetering the ship over the swell until she fell heavily back into the sea behind it. Afterward, theTenebraecontinued to jostle hard, waving masts and whipping sails.

Macklin returned his attention to the last of the fleeing rowboats. Only now it had swung away and had begun striking off, as if the pirates had finally noted the flag waving high as the masts flailed in the air.

But that was not the reason.

Hemple rushed to his side. “Smoke, sir. Rising all around us.”

Macklin had noted the thickening pall, but he had attributed it to the burning pirate ship.

A boatswain and his mate burst out of the quarterdeck and hollered to all. “Fire in the bilge!”

Hemple directed several of the crew. “Sand buckets and water! Go!”

Macklin frowned at the sea, at the burning pirate ship.

Stoepker leaned over the rail and looked down. “What are those?”

Macklin followed his gaze. A tide of black stony branches clung to the lower hull. With each rock of the boat, more appeared. Smoke billowed around them, as if the branches were red-hot irons branding into the ship’s planks.

Farther below, seen through breaks in the ash, something flashed and flickered down in the dark depths, like streams of glowing lights passing beneath and around theTenebrae.

Macklin shuddered at the ungodly sight.

“Full sails now!” he ordered. “Get us out of these waters!”

As he shouted, he never took his eyes from the sight below. Those burning branches continued to spread, climbing higher, as if the fiery claws of some briny monster had nabbed theTenebrae.

He now understood what had panicked the pirates.

Before theTenebraecould truly gain speed, flames burst along the hull and swept along those branches, encircling the ship. Even a roll into the ashy water failed to douse the fire.

Behind him, Hemple bellowed and spread the commander’s orders. Shouts and curses rang out everywhere as desperation and terror gripped theTenebrae.

Macklin searched across the thickening pall toward the Bugi ship. The pirate vessel slowly sank into the ash-covered sea. He knew the same fate likely awaited theTenebrae.It was only then that he notedMister Stoepker and the ship’s cabin boy had vanished from his side, but he had no time to ponder their disappearance.

As smoke shrouded his ship and flames rose to the rails, his heart pounded in his throat. He remembered the last time he had attended a Holy Week mass at the church in Batavia. A song had been sung, composed by Gregorio Allegri centuries before, marking the Tenebrae service, those last three days of Christ’s torture.

He recited the title now, “Miserere mei, Deus.”

It was as apt as the ship’s name.

Have mercy on me, God.

April 23, 1815

Batavia, on the island of Java

Stamford Raffles, the lieutenant-governor of the Dutch East Indies, followed the captain of the Indiaman cruiser, theApollon, through the recovering ruins of the town’s port. Captain Haas was accompanied by his ship’s surgeon, Swann.

The two had appeared at the governor’s palace with some urgency, carrying a letter from a man whom Stamford trusted. So, despite the late hour, with the sun sitting low on the horizon, he had set off with the men in a carriage to the docks. The group now crossed briskly down a long stone pier, one of the few still intact following the damage over the past weeks.

Hammering and sawing and shouting echoed all around the port. But, at least, the skies had mostly cleared of ash, though a thick haze persisted that turned the sun into an angry red orb and created a perpetual twilight. The early evening’s breezes still sweltered and carried the reek of sulfur.

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