The venom of the scorpio.., p.1
The Venom of the Scorpion, page 1
To Caroline and Gary Smailes
for starting the adventure!
CONTENTS
Cornwall, 1816
Chapter One: Pirates
Chapter Two: Sea Beast
Chapter Three: Dancing
Chapter Four: Murderer!
Chapter Five: Prisoner
Chapter Six: Trial
Chapter Seven: Flash Company
Chapter Eight: Death Chase
Chapter Nine: Night Crawler
Chapter Ten: Persuasion
Chapter Eleven: Dragged to the Depths
Chapter Twelve: Ibrahim
Chapter Thirteen: Desert Flight
Chapter Fourteen: Stowaway
Chapter Fifteen: Sky Battle
Chapter Sixteen: Blood and Sand
Chapter Seventeen: Serqet
Chapter Eighteen: Marek’s Plan
Chapter Nineteen: Sacrifice
Chapter Twenty: Poison Priest
Chapter Twenty-One: Fire from Above
Chapter Twenty-Two: Pursuit through the Clouds
Chapter Twenty-Three: Death Plunge
Chapter Twenty-Four: Slaughter on the Sea
Chapter Twenty-Five: Dark Suspicions
Chapter Twenty-Six: Treachery and Fear
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Crawlers from the Deep
Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Mystery Deepens
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Confrontation
Chapter Thirty: The Truth
Chapter Thirty-One: Vengeance
Chapter Thirty-Two: Friends and Forgiveness
A Note from the Author
Also by Jon Mayhew
Praise for Jon Mayhew
‘The horrid scowl with which he died was fixed on his features. Having lived but for vengeance, his hate still survived.’
Jules Verne, The Steam House
CORNWALL,
1816
CHAPTER ONE
PIRATES
Dakkar clung to the knotted rope that stretched up the stern of the pirate ship. His hands felt numb with the cold and damp and his world rocked about on the rolling waves, making it hard to keep climbing.
‘Why can’t we just ram this bloomin’ wreck and sink her?’ Fletcher hissed behind him. Fletcher was Dakkar’s friend, a cabin boy who often fought alongside him. The boy gripped his own rope and was struggling as much as Dakkar. His dirty mop of blond hair clung to his wet skin.
‘Keep quiet!’ Dakkar said through gritted teeth. ‘You know we’ve got to free the prisoners on board.’
Commander Blizzard, their leader, had brought them to this place after a pirate ship had been spotted. The pirates weren’t after gold, though; they were after slaves. A whole village of men, women and children had been taken from the Cornish coast. Dakkar and Fletcher had to rescue them.
Dakkar inched his way up the rope, his feet pressing against the wet planks. Above him, a dim light glowed from some small windows, probably the captain’s cabin. The Barbary pirate ship was an old girl, taken years ago but crewed by tough sailors from North Africa. Dakkar found it hard to believe that these men would travel so far to take people for slavery, but here they were. Commander Blizzard had told him that raids as far north as Iceland had been known.
A comet of light jerked Dakkar from his thoughts as a cannonball arced from the darkness, turning the night lurid red.
‘Come on!’ Dakkar snapped. ‘The commander’s started firing. We should have those prisoners out of the ship by now!’ He dragged himself up the rope, hand over hand, until his shoulders and arms ached.
‘Wait for me!’ Fletcher called after him.
Shouts echoed across the ship, underscored by the stamp and thud of feet on deck, as men ran to ready the cannon for battle. Dakkar came to the rear window and glanced inside to see a sumptuous cabin, strewn with furs and rich fabrics. Golden goblets sat on the table and charts lay spread across the room. Otherwise it was empty. Dakkar grinned. ‘Let’s go in through here,’ he said.
Another boom from the cannon on Commander Blizzard’s ship, HMS Slaughter, told him to get a move on. ‘They’ll hit their target any minute and then things will get interesting.’ Dakkar kicked hard against the stern of the pirate ship with both feet and swung away from it. Then he came swinging back, putting both feet through the window.
Offering a silent prayer of thanks for his thick boots and tough canvas trousers, Dakkar crashed through the glass and landed on his feet in the middle of the cabin. Fletcher clambered in after him.
‘Blimey, Dakkar, no need to make such an entrance.’
‘We can’t waste time.’ Dakkar grinned. ‘This is the most direct route.’
‘You’re the boss.’ Fletcher smiled. ‘Beat you to the door!’
They both glanced at each other then raced for the cabin door. But it swung open itself, helped by a huge bald man with a long drooping moustache. A scorpion tattoo on the man’s bare arm seemed to move whenever he flexed his iron muscles. He stared down at Dakkar and Fletcher with a creased brow, as if trying to work out where these two boys had sprung from. Dakkar didn’t give him a chance to speak but jabbed him sharply in the stomach with his fist. The man doubled up and Fletcher brought both his hands down on the back of the man’s neck. The pirate crumpled to the ground.
‘Finished him off for you,’ Fletcher panted, jumping over the body and out of the door.
‘I could have dealt with him alone!’ Dakkar called and then slipped out after him.
Fire raged on the deck where a third cannonball had hit a powder keg. Men scurried about, readying cannon, but a large crowd pushed a capstan, a huge block of wood with handles sticking out of it; the capstan wound up chains and winched up anchors. The men yelled urgently in Turkish to each other. A loud, metal, grating sound screeched through the air.
‘Are they getting ready to leave?’ Dakkar frowned. ‘Or winching something up from the bottom?’
‘Never mind that,’ Fletcher yelled. ‘Come on before we’re spotted!’
Dakkar hurried to a huge square grate that sat in the centre of the deck. The ship was quite small and this hatch led to the hold where the prisoners were kept.
He gripped the metal grille and yanked it aside. The dank smell of the sea and unwashed bodies drifted up and he peered into the shadows to see frightened faces of men, women and children staring up at him.
‘It’s all right,’ Fletcher said over his shoulder. ‘Mr Fletcher, His Majesty’s Navy!’
Dakkar gave him a sidelong glance and extended a hand. ‘Come on, follow us. We have a rescue boat at the back of the ship!’
Another explosion rocked the deck and Dakkar nearly plunged headlong into the hold. The prisoners looked fearfully at him.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Fletcher said, grinning. ‘He’s one of us! Now come on!’
A woman began scrambling up the steps out of the hold and quickly others followed. They looked ragged and bruised by their ordeal. But Dakkar was still taking in Fletcher’s comment.
‘One of … ?’ Dakkar stared in disbelief.
A cry distracted him and he turned to see one of the pirates pointing at them. Dakkar pulled his pistol and shot the man in the kneecap. But others turned now and drew their swords.
‘Get them to safety. I’ll keep these men occupied,’ Dakkar said, bundling Fletcher towards the stern.
‘Aye, aye, sir,’ Fletcher said.
Dakkar grinned and pulled out a pouch of powder from his pocket. Dakkar had lived with a man called Franciszek Oginski for many years and the man had taught him many things, including how to design ingenious weapons that helped make escape possible. ‘Get going!’ He hurled the pouch in front of the approaching men and it exploded in a choking cloud of smoke. Dakkar launched into the fog, stabbing one man in the arm and kicking another’s legs from under him.
Another cannonball buzzed over his head and crashed into the mainmast, sending splinters of wood across the deck. The mainsail drifted down like a blanket over them all. Dakkar punched the heavy canvas away and rolled from under it.
He thumped the hilt of his sword into the three heads he could see under the sail and then backed away, following Fletcher and the retreating prisoners.
Fire had taken hold of the pirate ship now, and the crew that remained hurried to douse the flames or were trying to return fire on HMS Slaughter with the cannon. The capstan lay abandoned and a tall, bare-chested man with his hair tied in a topknot strode towards Dakkar, swinging a curved scimitar. Dakkar shivered. The scimitar was a hacking blade, like a butcher’s cleaver. It would slice through flesh and splinter bone with ease. The man’s muscled body gleamed in the firelight as he made a few practice strokes through the air.
Dakkar kicked a small barrel towards him, hoping to trip him up, but the man easily sidestepped it with a smirk. He was close now; Dakkar could smell the stale sweat on his body and see a glint of gold in his yellowed teeth. He swung the blade, forcing Dakkar to throw himself backward. The scimitar hummed above Dakkar’s head. The man gave a grin and raised the blade high. In that fleeting moment, Dakkar noticed a scorpion tattoo on the man’s arm. Another one, he thought, then turned his attention to survival.
More explosions rocked the ship and the deck tilted, sending the man stumbling away for a second. Dakkar leapt to his feet. The cabin door was open behind him and he could see the prisoners climbing down the cargo net that Fletcher had brought up to enable them all to escape.
If Dakkar joined them, the man would likely follow and probabl
The man saw his predicament and climbed to his feet, stumbling back across the angled deck towards him. He swung the sword and Dakkar parried the blow. Sparks flared off his blade and the shock ran up his arm, numbing his muscles. Dakkar hissed with pain and fell on to the deck.
‘You die now, boy.’ The man grinned. He straddled Dakkar’s body and raised the sword with both hands.
Instinctively, Dakkar kicked upward, catching the man between his legs with a powerful blow. The man gasped and dropped the blade, swinging his hands down in a pointless attempt to defend himself. He doubled up, groaning in agony. It would have been comical if the ship hadn’t given another lurch, sending Dakkar and the man sliding to the starboard side of the ship.
‘We’re sinking, Fletcher. Is everyone on the Nautilus?’
The Nautilus, Dakkar’s submarine, waited directly behind the pirate ship and Fletcher guided them down the stern of the ship on to its deck.
‘Just a few more!’ Fletcher yelled back.
Dakkar turned and began to climb the steep incline that had once been a level deck. Barrels and boxes bounced past him into the encroaching sea.
Then the water exploded and a huge shrieking roar split the air. Dakkar rolled on to his back, pressing himself against the deck, and stared at a huge pair of yellow eyes, glowering from a head the size of a carriage. The only other thing Dakkar could see was row upon row of razor-sharp teeth and a blood-red jaw opening wide to engulf him.
CHAPTER TWO
SEA BEAST
The creature reared up, its long neck snaking out of the foaming water that splashed against the tilting deck.
‘Now, what on earth are you doing here?’ Dakkar muttered and scrambled backward, crab-like, towards the cabin door.
Ever since Dakkar had become entangled in Franciszek Oginski’s battle with the evil organisation known as Cryptos, he’d faced all kinds of fearsome beasts and monsters. Cryptos was run by Oginski’s six evil brothers and they delighted in using terrifying creatures and ingenious machines to further their evil plans.
The long-neck snapped at him, narrowly missing his boots. The smell of rotten fish and the sea washed over Dakkar. He glanced around for a weapon and saw the scimitar glimmering in the light of the fire that blazed about them.
Once more the creature shrieked and bit down at Dakkar. With a yell, Dakkar rolled and snatched up the scimitar. He sliced down, gripping the sword with both hands. The steel bit into flesh and a loud shriek rewarded Dakkar as the snout pulled back. At first, Dakkar had thought it was some kind of sea serpent, but now he saw a muscular body and broad flippers behind the snake- like neck.
The monster slapped a massive flipper on to the deck, hauling itself after him and sending the ship lurching downward into the sea. Water rushed up the deck towards Dakkar and he lost his footing. The creature’s head snaked behind him and bit at his neck but Dakkar whirled the blade round, the steel grating on sharp teeth.
Seawater swirled round Dakkar’s knees. Barrels and boxes and bodies floated everywhere, thumping into each other in the boiling water. Dakkar could feel the pull of the sea on his legs and the creature had dragged more of its huge bulk on to the deck. He glanced at the rear cabin door but the water poured in through it, making that exit impossible. I just hope Fletcher got everybody out in time, he thought.
Panting for breath, Dakkar waded towards the quarterdeck at the stern of the ship, above the flooded rear cabin where Fletcher had been.
The beast shrieked again and Dakkar cut an arc through the air with the butcher’s blade. This time it crunched into the side of the long-neck’s head, carving a deep, bloody furrow in the slimy skin.
The creature backed off and reared up high above Dakkar. He stood on the steps that led to the rear deck, facing the monster and holding the scimitar with a weakening grip. He was in a terrible position and exhaustion was beginning to take hold of his body.
This is it, he thought. I’m going to die.
Then suddenly a loud buzz filled the air, followed by a distant muffled boom, and the monster’s head vanished in an explosion of blood and brain. Dakkar’s vision blurred and faded and he thought he heard distant cheering. The lifeless neck slapped down, smashing timbers and throwing up a tidal wave of bloody water.
With legs like wet paper, Dakkar staggered up the steps on to the rear deck, closely followed by the rising water. The ship was sinking fast now and the bitter cold sea gnawed into Dakkar’s thighs, then his waist, making him gasp. The water boiled and hissed as it doused the burning wreck. He looked up and saw another huge shape blot out the night sky.
‘I’ve got him, Georgia.’ Fletcher’s voice sounded distant but a firm hand caught Dakkar’s collar. ‘I tell you, this boy’s becoming a liability.’
Dakkar felt himself being lifted on to the deck of the Nautilus. He could feel its snug-fitted boards, the polished wood and the slightly rounded surface. He shook his head and coughed up a gutful of bloody seawater.
‘Thank you, Fletcher,’ he said, clambering to his feet and falling down almost straight away. ‘I’ll be fine now.’
A crowd of prisoners huddled on the deck, staring at him warily.
‘You don’t look fine.’ Fletcher grinned. ‘You look a mess! And what have you clung on to that for?’
Dakkar looked down. He was still holding the scimitar in his hand. It felt good, though, heavy and powerful. ‘Well, I did win it fair and square.’
‘Come on, let’s get you inside,’ Fletcher said.
They stood at the front of the Nautilus, which was, in effect, a streamlined wooden tube with a tower set in the middle. The crowd on the deck stepped back as Dakkar approached, some of them preferring to almost fall into the sea than to touch Dakkar.
‘What’s wrong with you all?’ Dakkar snarled at the nearest woman. ‘Have I grown an extra head or something?’
‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir,’ the woman said, trying an awkward curtsy. ‘We thought you was one of them.’ She gave a nod to the water, indicating where the last traces of the pirate ship bubbled to the bottom of the sea and a dead pirate rocked, face down in the water.
‘Thought I was a pirate?’ Dakkar frowned, dumbfounded.
‘It’s your dark looks, and that sword doesn’t help things along.’ Fletcher nodded at his scimitar.
‘Nonsense.’ Dakkar barged past them, climbing the tower to get inside. ‘I’m Prince of Bundelkhand in India, not some North African pirate! You’re lucky I came to save you. I wonder if you deserve it at all now.’
The warmth of the Nautilus soaked into his bones as he climbed down the inside of the tower and into the control room at its base. Georgia sat in the captain’s chair, a wheel in front of her and various levers, dials and switches surrounding her. She smiled as Dakkar came down the ladder. Georgia Fulton and Dakkar had been firm friends since their first adventure, when they had to rescue Franciszek Oginski and her uncle, the American inventor Robert Fulton, from Cryptos two years ago. They’d had many adventures since.
‘Managed to find something big and hungry to play with then?’ she said, spinning round on the chair. ‘What was that critter?’
‘Critter?’ Dakkar shuddered. ‘The way you Americans mangle the English language! Anyway, it’s not funny, Georgia. That thing could have killed me and what does it suggest to you?’
‘I know: it says Cryptos, loud and clear,’ she said with a sigh.
Cryptos was run by the brothers Oginski, seven brothers who had sworn vengeance on the world after their family home was destroyed by a Russian invasion. Franciszek, Dakkar’s mentor, had finally turned against his brothers and renounced the evil aims of Cryptos. Sadly, he’d died defending Dakkar.
‘How do you know it’s Cryptos then?’ Fletcher said, joining them from above.
‘Only Cryptos has the knowledge and ability to breed these monsters,’ Dakkar said. ‘That one probably came from the underworld that Stefan Oginski tried to rule. The pirates must have held it in a cage under the boat and released it when they were attacked. Did you see those men at the capstan when HMS Slaughter opened fire? I think they were winching the cage up to let the monster free.’
‘Yeah, that makes sense. But that Stefan chap, he’s dead,’ Fletcher said. ‘You kicked his backside last year.’
