S HIVERS
John Townsend bad and dangerous pirate stories 1o creepy tales
PIRATE Stories JOHN TOWNSEND
First published in Great Britain by Scribo MMXVIII Scribo, an imprint of The Salariya Book Company 25 Marlborough Place, Brighton, BN1 1UB www.salariya.com ISBN 978-1-912233-51-9 The right of John Townsend to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988. Book Design by Isobel Lundie © The Salariya Book Company MMXVIII Text copyright © John Townsend Condition of Sale This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Printed and bound in China
www.salariya.com Artwork Credits Illustrations: Isobel Lundie
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PIRATEY TALES TO SEND A SHIVER THROUGH YOUR BONES… 7.
9.
Introduction Kidnap
24. The Grisly Crimes of Captain Bartelmy 35. 51.
Escape from The Kraken Blackbeard’s Gold
62. The Mysterious Legend of Ocean–Born Mary 69. The Pearl of Neptune
83. Lady Killigrew’s Treasure 93. Ghost Ship
100. Key to a Dead Man’s Chest
121. The Lighthouse Keeper’s Secret 156. Piratey Facts 159. Glossary
PIRATE Stories JOHN TOWNSEND
Stories that dabble in swashbuckling
adventures at sea, hidden treasure, daring
raids and scary villains have been told with relish ever since the first sailing ships set off into the unknown. Getting the shivers through storytelling has long been part
of the seafaring tradition, and what could
be more shivery than pirates, man–eating sharks and danger lurking in every salty
shadow? After all, pirate tales can nudge us from our comfort zones, tingle our twitchy nerves and hook us into other worlds (yes, HOOK!) Either that or they’ll scare
your pants off. Hold on, me hearties…
PIRATE STORIES
KIDNAP
W
hen Breon fell with a thud on the cabin floor in the middle of the night, he knew either his hammock
strings had snapped or an intruder had tipped him from his slumbers. Unfortunately, it was the latter. “Get up, ye sleepy bones… yer comin’ ashore.” The silver glint of a blade flashed in the darkness. Horror-struck, Breon blinked up at a candlelit scrawny face with sunken cheeks and hollow 9
SHIVERS eyes – like a skull but with a matted grey beard flecked with festering fishbones. A cold, skeletal hand reeking of kippers covered Breon’s mouth. “Don’t make a sound, young fella. Yer comin’ with me.” Slowly the hand released its kippery grip as Breon gasped, “Who are you? What do you want?” A bent finger wagged on scabby lips. “Sshh, don’t breathe a word. I’m not ’ere to ’arm ye. You’ve nothing to fear if ye do as I say. There’s someone what wants to see yer and it could be to your advantage, me lad. I’ve been told to row ye ashore in secret on account that it’s a matter of life and death.” “But who are you?” Breon stammered. “Ask no questions and you’ll be told no lies. Just put it this way – your grandpa sent me.” “I haven’t got a grandpa. I’m an orphan. You’ve got the wrong boy.” The man brought his nose right up to Breon’s, 10
PIRATE STORIES wheezing crabby breath laced with rum. “You’re Breon O’Malley, right?” Breon nodded, gulped and blinked all at once. “Then you’ve got a grandpa still alive… for a little bit longer. Now, come with me.” The scraggy figure, with dagger clenched between rotting teeth, gripped Breon’s shoulder and pulled him up to the main deck. They scurried in moonlight under shadows cast by masts and rigging, across the small sailing ship anchored in the harbour – Breon’s home for the last six years. The air was still, the sea was silent, the night was warm. Once down a rope ladder into a waiting rowing boat bobbing on rippling waves, the stranger pulled on the oars, and Breon stared helplessly as they slipped away with hardly a splash. “Am I being kidnapped?” he dared to ask with a shiver. “Not exactly”, the man puffed, the knife now 11
SHIVERS at his side, “except ye have no choice but to come with me. I only get me pieces of silver when I’ve delivered yer so if yer try to escape I’ll fillet yer gizzard from sheer annoyance. I’ve a short temper and I’m a dab hand with a blade. I can fillet a herring in two seconds and a boy in five. That’s why they call me ‘Bones’.” Breon thought the name was more likely from the sardine remains in his beard or the fact that he looked just like a skeleton with hairy ears and an earring. “The captain and crew will wonder what’s happened to me,” Breon said as the silhouetted ship melted into the distance. “They’ve looked after me since my father was drowned at sea. I’ve been their cabin boy ever since. Please let me go.” “In time, me lad. Do yer do much smuggling on that there ship?” “No! Captain Fleece is honest. He got his name 12
PIRATE STORIES from all the wool we carry around the coast. That’s our trade.” Bones chuckled wheezily. “I be glad to ’ear it. Now, get up there.” Mooring the boat at the harbour steps, Bones clambered out and led Breon up to a tethered black horse on the quayside. “Up yer get.” Breon scrambled up onto the horse’s shoulders, with Bones gripping the reins before rattling up behind him onto a make-shift saddle. After a single ‘giddy-up’, the horse trotted up a cobbled street between fishermen’s cottages, before breaking into a gallop on a muddy track snaking beneath the moon through a hillside forest. Gripping tightly onto the horse’s mane, Breon feared where they were heading and if he would ever return to his ship again. He was now sure the smelly ribs poking him in the back and the fishy beard prickling his neck belonged to an old pirate called Bony Bridges – also known as 13