victim went down under the blow but Aboli's blade snapped off at the hilt. He tossed it aside, stooped and picked up a pike from the dead hands of one of the fallen English seamen.
As Hal and Sir Francis ran up beside him, he hefted the long oak shaft and thrust at the belly of another musketeer who rushed at him with his sword held high. The pike head caught him just under the ribs and transfixed him, standing out half an arm's length between his shoulder blades. The man struggled like a fish on a gaff, and the heavy shaft snapped off in Aboli's hands. He used the stub like a cudgel to strike down the third musketeer who rushed at him. Aboli looked around, grinning like a crazed gargoyle, his great eyes rolling in their sockets.
Sir Francis was engaged with a white Dutch sergeant, trading cut for thrust, their blades clanking and rasping against each other.
Hal killed a corporal with a single neat thrust into his throat, then glanced at Aboli. 'The men from the boats will be on us in an instant.' They could hear wild cries in their rear as the enemy seamen swept over the gun pits dealing out short shrift to the few men hiding there. Hal and Aboli did not need to look back they both knew it was over.
'Farewell, old friend,' Aboli panted. 'They were good times. Would that they had lasted longer.'
Hal had no chance to reply, for at that moment a hoarse voice said in English, 'Hal Courtney, you bold puppy, your luck has just this moment ended.' Cornelius Schreuder pushed aside two of his own men and strode forward to face Hal.
'You and me!' he shouted and came in fast, leading with his right foot, taking the quick double paces of the master swordsman, recovering instantly from each of the swift series of thrusts with which he drove Hal backwards.
Hal was shocked anew at the power in those thrusts, and it taxed all his skill and strength to meet and parry them. The Toledo steel of his blade rang shrilly under the mighty blows and he felt despair as he realized that he could not hope to hold out against such magisterial force.
Schreuder's eyes were blue, cold and merciless. He anticipated each of Hal's moves, offering him a wall of glittering steel when once he attempted the riposte, beating his blade aside then coming on again remorselessly.
Close by, Sir Francis was absorbed in his own duel and had not seen Hal's deadly predicament. Aboli had only the stump of the pike-shaft in his hand no weapon with which to take on a man like Cornelius Schreuder. He saw Hal, his immature strength already spent by his earlier exertions, wilting visibly before the overwhelming force of these attacks.
Aboli knew by Schreuder's expression when he judged his moment and gathered himself to make the kill. It was certain, inevitable, for Hal could never withstand the thunderbolt which was ready to loose itself upon him.
Aboli moved with the speed of a striking black cobra, faster even than Schreuder could send home his final thrust. He darted up behind Hal, and lifted the oak club. He struck Hal down with a crack over his ear, rapping him sharply across the temple.
Schreuder was amazed to have his victim drop to the ground, senseless, just as he was about to launch the death thrust. While he hesitated Aboli dropped the shattered pike-shaft and stood protectively over Hal's inert body.
'You cannot kill a fallen man, Colonel. Not on the honour of a Dutch officer. ''You black Satan!' Schreuder roared with frustration. 'If I can't kill the puppy, at least I can kill you.'
Aboli showed him his empty hands, holding up his pale palms before Schreuder's eyes. 'I am unarmed,' he said softly.
'I would spare an unarmed Christian.' Schreuder glared. 'But you are a godless animal.' He drew back his blade and aimed the point at the centre of Aboli's chest, where the muscles glistened with sweat in the sunlight. Sir Francis Courtney stepped lightly in front of him, ignoring the colonel's blade.
'On the other hand, Colonel Schreuder, I am a Christian gentleman,' he said smoothly, 'and I yield myself and my men to your grace.' He reversed his own sword and proffered the hilt to Schreuder.
Schreuder glared at him, speechless with fury and frustration. He made no move to accept Sir Francis's sword, but placed the point of his weapon on the other man's throat and pricked him lightly. 'Stand aside, or by God I'll cut you down, Christian or heathen.' The knuckles of his right hand turned white on the hilt of his weapon as he prepared himself to make good the threat.
Another hail made him hesitate. 'Come now, Colonel, I am loath to interfere in a matter of honour. If you murder the brother of my bosom, Franky Courtney, then who will lead us to the treasure from your fine galleon the Standvastigheid?'
Schreuder's gaze flicked to the face of Cumbrae as he came striding up to them, the great blood-streaked claymore in his hand.
'The cargo?' Schreuder demanded. 'We have captured this pirate's nest. We will find the treasure is here.'
'Now don't you be so certain of that.' The Buzzard waggled his bushy red beard sadly. 'If I know my dear brother in Christ, Franky, he'll have squirrel led the best part of it away somewhere.' His eye glinted greedily from under his bonnet. 'No, Colonel, you are going to have to keep him alive, at least until we have been able to recompense ourselves with a handful of silver rix-dollars for doing God's work this day.'
When Hal recovered consciousness, he found his father kneeling over him. He whispered, 'What happened, Father? Did we win?' His father shook his head, without looking into his eyes, and made a fuss of wiping the sweat and soot from his son's face with a strip of grubby cloth torn from the hem of his own shirt.
'No, Hal. We did not win.' Hal looked beyond him, and it all came back. He saw that a pitiful few of the Resolution's crew had survived. They were huddled together around where Hal lay, guarded by green-jackets with loaded muskets. The rest were scattered where they had fallen in front of the gun pits or were draped in death upon the parapets.
He saw that Aboli was tending Daniel, binding up the wound in his chest with the red bandanna. Daniel was sitting up and seemed to have recovered somewhat, although clearly he had lost a great deal of blood.
His face beneath the grime of battle was as white as the ashes of last night's camp-fire.
Hal turned his head and saw Lord Cumbrae and Colonel Schreuder standing nearby, in deep and earnest conversation. The Buzzard broke off at last and shouted an order to one of his men. 'Geordie, bring the slave chains from the Gull! We don't want Captain Courtney to leave us again.' The sailor hurried back to the beach, and the Buzzard and the colonel came to where the prisoners squatted under the muskets of their guards.
'Captain Courtney.' Schreuder addressed Sir Francis ominously. 'I am arresting you and your crew for piracy on the high seas. You will be taken to Good Hope to stand trial on those charges.'
'I protest, sir.' Sir Francis stood up with dignity. 'I demand that you treat my men with the consideration due to prisoners of war.'
'There is no war, Captain,' Schreuder told him icily. 'Hostilities between the Republic of Holland and England ceased under treaty some months ago.'
Sir Francis stared at him, aghast, while he recovered from the shock of this news. 'I was unaware that a peace had been concluded. I acted in good faith,' he said at last, 'but in any event I was sailing under a commission from His Majesty.'
'You spoke of this Letter of Marque during our previous meeting. Will you consider me presumptuous if I insist on having sight of the document?' Schreuder asked.
'My commission from His Majesty is in my sea-chest in my hut.' Sir Francis pointed into the stockade, where many of the huts had been destroyed by cannon fire. 'If you will allow me I will bring it to you.'
'Please don't discommode yourself, Franky my old friend.' The Buzzard clapped him on the shoulder. 'I'll fetch it for you.' He strode away and ducked into the low doorway of the hut that Sir Francis had indicated.
Schreuder rounded on him again. 'Where are you holding your hostages, sir? Governor van de Velde and his poor wife, where are they?'
'The Governor must still be in his stockade with the other hostages, his wife and the captain of the galleon. I have not seen them since the beginning of the fight.'
Hal stood up shakily, holding the cloth to his head. 'The Governor's wife has taken refuge from the fighting in a cave in the hillside, up there.'
'How do you know that?' Schreuder asked sharply.
'For her own safety, I led her there myself.' Hal spoke up boldly, avoiding his father's stern eye. 'I was returning from the cave when I ran into you in the forest, Colonel.'
Schreuder looked up the hill, torn by duty and the desire to rush to the aid of the woman whose rescue was, for him at least, the main object of this expedition. But at that moment the Buzzard swaggered out of the hut. He carried a roll of parchment tied with a scarlet ribbon. The royal seals of red wax dangled from it.
Sir Francis smiled with satisfaction and relief. 'There you have it, Colonel. I demand that you treat me and my crew as honourable prisoners, captured in a fair fight.'
Before he reached them, the Buzzard paused and unrolled the parchment. He held up the document at arm's length, and turned it so that all could see the curlicue script penned by some clerk of the Admiralty in black indian ink. At last, with a jerk of his head, he summoned one of his
