Free The Pirate's Revenge by Kelly Gardiner

that he will not be pleased that the boy has returned.’
    â€˜There’s no stopping him, sir. He believes he should be in Malta to fight the French.’
    â€˜Indeed,’ said Black. ‘His opportunity may soon arise. I had word this morning that the French are planning to sell off all the tapestries and silverware from one of the oldest churches on the island. They will be opposed. Duke de Santiago, amongst others, will be there to try to stop them, by force if need be.’
    â€˜I must tell Carlo,’ I said. ‘He will want to be there.’
    â€˜I guessed as much, and this is why I’m telling you. It could become a very ugly incident. The boy is impulsive, that much I know. His father does not know he has returned, and tomorrow may be the worst of all possible days for them to meet. I ask you and your men to escort Carlo back to the Old City and to make sure he comes to no harm.’
    â€˜Of course,’ I said. ‘We will do it.’
    â€˜What will we do?’ asked Ricardo, who had sneaked in close enough to hear. As I told him the plan, his face flushed scarlet.
    â€˜The blasphemers,’ he cried. ‘Auction off Our Lady’s sacred tapestries, and on a Sunday too? I will stop them. My brother and I will stop them.’
    He raced off to find Francesco, cursing in Maltese and shaking a fist at an imaginary French force.
    Uncle Ebenezer looked disconcerted. ‘Frankly, I was hoping for a somewhat more measured approach,’ he said.
    â€˜Don’t worry, sir,’ I assured him. ‘I’ll be there, with some of the Mermaid ’s trustiest men. Carlo will come to no harm, and we will deliver him safely home to his family. What could possibly go wrong?’
    Before dawn the next morning Carlo scampered ahead with the Vellas as I trudged with Jem, Moggia and Miller through the fields and grasslands towards the Old City. The path rose and wound along the top of the hill, narrowing and forcing us to walk in single file as fast as we could.
    â€˜Stay low,’ warned Jem. ‘There may be Frenchmen posted on the road.’
    I hunched over. In front of me, Miller crouched down, trying to make his huge frame into a tiny silhouette against the sunrise. Suddenly he stopped without warning. I heard a muffled gasp, and then the familiar sound of Carlo sprawling flat on his face.
    â€˜You don’t have to stay quite that low,’ quipped Miller.
    Carlo jumped to his feet and dusted himself off. ‘I thought I heard something,’ he said.
    â€˜Is that why you fell over?’
    â€˜There it is again,’ Carlo whispered. We all crouched down, listening. Sure enough, something was rustling in the scrub that lined the track.
    â€˜There it is,’ Carlo hissed, quietly drawing his dagger.
    Another sudden movement in the bushes made him jump, then he leaped to his feet and ran towards the noise. Miller put a hand on my arm to tell me to stay put, and flashed me a grin.
    â€˜Stand and fight, you coward,’ Carlo shouted at the bushes.
    â€˜Hey, keep your damned voice down,’ said Jem.
    Carlo, thrusting his dagger into the bushes, was too frantic to hear him.
    â€˜Saints preserve us,’ muttered Miller, and got slowly to his feet. He grabbed Carlo’s sword arm.
    â€˜That’s enough.’
    â€˜I have discovered a spy!’ Carlo exclaimed.
    â€˜You have discovered a goat,’ said Miller. ‘Stop jumping about and shouting, and you’ll hear it clear enough.’
    Just at that moment a feeble bleat came from somewhere in the dark. The Vella brothers sniggered loudly.
    â€˜Poor old goat,’ said Francesco. ‘What has it ever done to you to deserve such treatment?’
    â€˜Can you skewer it for our dinner with your little knife?’ Ricardo teased.
    Carlo sheathed his dagger, crestfallen, but trying to maintain his dignity.
    â€˜Never mind,’ I said. ‘Perhaps it is a specially