Artemis

pig!’ before swiftly assuming the safety of his sister's skirt.

The cry was repeated by others, and more, until a regular chant began, 'Pirn-pig! Pini-pig! Pini- pig!’

The other sailors had come up with Kydd at the sight of the children, but now they growled in exasperation. 'Oo are they callin' a pig, then?' a tough able seaman snapped.

'Take a strap to 'em, I will,' said an older seaman.

Kydd advanced on them but they kept up their chant, baiting the sailors. Suddenly Pinto appeared, followed by Goryo. Kydd had not heard their noiseless approach in the bangkha.

'Tell 'em they're in f'r a hidin' if they keep it up,' said Kydd, but already Goryo was shouting at them, in a curious tongue, more like the babble of river-gravel in a stream. It had little effect.

Goryo turned to Pinto and spoke to him, sheepishly.

'He say, el ninos very rude to foreigner,' Pinto relayed on, 'an' he want t' apologise for them.'

The sailors glared.

'He say that when island traders come, they always give pini-pig, children think you are big, you have many pini-pig?

Pinto prodded further to discover that pint-pig was the basis of a much prized delicacy of Visayan children, dispensed in the form of a bamboo tube stuffed with pounded toasted young rice flavoured with coconut milk and palm sugar.

Laughing, Kydd unknotted his red kerchief. 'No pini-pigs,' he said softly, 'but this is f'r you.' He held it out to the older sister, who advanced shyly and accepted it with a bob, delightedly trying it on in different styles.

Goryo's face softened, and he murmured a few more words to Pinto, who looked at him sharply. 'He say - plis excuse, they are all excite because tomorrow Christmas.'

'You will, of course, be aware that this Spanish colony must be papist,' Renzi said. 'No heathens these.' As if in confirmation, the little ones' eyes sparkled and the chant changed to '' Chreestmaaas! Chreestmaaas!’

Kydd stared at the happy bunch: their careless joy was identical to what must be happening on the other side of the world, in England. Time had passed unmarked for Kydd, but at home there would now be the frosting of December cold, stark leafless trees and bitter winds. Here there was brilliant sun and exotic colour, outlandish feast-foods - and an unknown tongue.

When he turned to Renzi his eyes had misted. So much had happened in the year since he had been torn away from his own family by the press-gang, and he knew he could now never return to that innocent existence. He had changed too much. He cleared his throat and bawled at his men, 'Stap me, y' sluggards, I'll sweat some salt out o' y'r bones!'

'It's monstrous!' spluttered Hobbes. 'There is no time to lose, sir.'

Powlett rubbed his chin. 'It is clear, sir, you have no knowledge of the Sea Service. Before we may begin our venture upon the Great South Sea we must rattle down the fore-shrouds and, er, sway up the mizzen topmast.' He turned to the boatswain. 'That is so, is it not, Mr Merrydew?'

'Aye, sir,' he confirmed, bewildered.

'And this will take us until near sunset tomorrow,' Powlett went on.

'If'n you says, sir.'

'And therefore I see no reason not to grant liberty ashore to those hands not required.' He looked squarely at Hobbes. 'You may go ashore if you wish to, sir.'

Hobbes snorted and stalked off.

'Pass the word for the purser. We will see if fresh fish and greenstuff can be got while we have the chance.' 'Sir—'

'Mr Fairfax?'

'Sir, the Spaniard, will you—'

'Hang him, the scurvy rogue? Do you think I should?' It was a nice problem: without question he had been instructed in the deed, so who was the more guilty? 'Well, sir, I—'

'He has failed. He did not succeed in his purpose. We leave him to return and explain himself — punishment enough?'

'But, sir, he will implicate the savage.'

'Not if it is explained to him that in such an event we will have no other recourse than subsequently to express our deepest gratitude to his superiors for his safe pilotage through the Strait, for the merest pittance in gold.'

The next day most of the ship's company of Artemis padded down the jungle path, Captain Powlett and the first lieutenant leading with Goryo and Pinto, the rest following respectfully behind, all in their best shore-going rig. Stirk shouldered a sea-chest, and was flanked by Kydd and Crow, who also carried small bundles.

There would be no danger from the indolent Spaniards on this holy day and so far from the provincial centres; Powlett could rest easy with his men ashore for a few hours — a cannon fired from the ship would have them back in minutes.

As they walked the familiar sounds of the sea fell behind, replaced by the curious cries of geckoes, the swooping mellow call of the oriole, the screech of parrots. Sudden rustles in the undergrowth were perhaps wild pigs or other, unknown, species.