Pirate Mutiny

Time Hunters: Pirate Mutiny
Chris Blake

Travel through time with Tom on more

Gladiator Clash

Knight Quest

Viking Raiders

Greek Warriors

Pirate Mutiny

Egyptian Curse

Coming Soon!

Cowboy Showdown

Samurai Assassin

Outback Outlaw

Stone Age Rampage

Mohican Brave

Aztec Attack

For games, competitions and more visit:

www.time-hunters.com

With special thanks to Marnie Stanton-Riches

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1: Isis Makes a Splash

Chapter 2: Sun, Sea … and Salmagundi

Chapter 3: A Scary Teacher

Chapter 4: Shark Bait

Chapter 5: Playing with St Elmo’s Fire

Chapter 6: Hot Cross Guns!

Chapter 7: Sugar, Spice and All Things Nice

Chapter 8: The Crab’s Claws

Chapter 9: Ghostly Games

Chapter 10: Home and Dry

Who were the Mightiest Pirates?

Weapons

Caribbean Piracy Timeline

Time Hunters Timeline

Fantastic Facts

The Hunt Continues …

Copyright

About the Publisher

Five thousand years ago

Princess Isis and her pet cat, Cleo, stood outside the towering carved gates to the Afterlife. It had been rotten luck to fall off a pyramid and die at only ten years of age, but Isis wasn’t worried – the Afterlife was meant to be great. People were dying to go there, after all! Her mummy’s wrappings were so uncomfortable she couldn’t wait a second longer to get in, get her body back and wear normal clothes again.

“Oi, Aaanuuubis, Anubidooby!” Isis shouted impatiently. “When you’re ready, you old dog!”

Cleo started to claw Isis’s shoulder. Then she yowled, jumping from Isis’s arms and cowering behind her legs.

“Calm down, fluffpot,” Isis said, bending to stroke her pet. “He can’t exactly woof me to death!” The princess laughed, but froze when she stood up. Now she understood what Cleo had been trying to tell her.

Looming up in front of her was the enormous jackal-headed god of the Underworld himself, Anubis. He was so tall that Isis’s neck hurt to look up at him. He glared down his long snout at her with angry red eyes. There was nothing pet-like about him. Isis gulped.

“‘WHEN YOU’RE READY, YOU OLD DOG?’” Anubis growled. “‘ANUBIDOOBY?’”

Isis gave the god of the Underworld a winning smile and held out five shining amulets. She had been buried with them so she could give them to Anubis to gain entry to the Afterlife. There was a sixth amulet too – a gorgeous green one. But Isis had hidden it under her arm. Green was her favourite colour, and surely Anubis didn’t need all six.

Except the god didn’t seem to agree. His fur bristled in rage. “FIVE? Where is the sixth?” he demanded.

Isis shook her head. “I was only given five,” she said innocently.

To her horror, Anubis grabbed the green amulet from its hiding place. “You little LIAR!” he bellowed.

Thunder started to rumble. The ground shook. Anubis snatched all six amulets and tossed them into the air. With a loud crack and a flash of lightning, they vanished.

“You hid them from me!” he boomed. “Now I have hidden them from you – in the most dangerous places throughout time.”

Isis’s bandaged shoulders drooped in despair. “So I c-c-can’t come into the Afterlife then?”

“Not until you have found each and every one. But first, you will have to get out of this …” Anubis clicked his fingers. A life-sized pottery statue of the goddess Isis, whom Isis was named after, appeared before him.

Isis felt herself being sucked into the statue, along with Cleo. “What are you doing to me?” she yelled.

“You can only escape if somebody breaks the statue,” Anubis said. “So you’ll have plenty of time to think about whether trying to trick the trickster god himself was a good idea!”

The walls of the statue closed around Isis, trapping her and Cleo inside. The sound of Anubis’s evil laughter would be the last sound they would hear for a long, long time …

“Tom! Are you listening?” a deep voice shouted. “Or maybe you’re too busy talking to yourself?”

Tom looked up at his swimming instructor. His face was red. His T-shirt was red. Even the knobbly knees sticking out from under his shorts were red. “I am listening, sir.”

“Four lengths, front crawl,” the instructor said, swinging his arms in big circles to show the correct technique.

Tom nodded and tried to stop his teeth from chattering. He caught a glimpse of Princess Isis Amun-Ra standing by the poolside with her cat, Cleo. The Ancient Egyptian mummy was cheekily swinging her arms round, imitating Tom’s swimming teacher.

“And Tom,” the instructor said, “next length, keep your head in the water!”

Tom clung to the side of the pool, shivering as the cold water lapped over his ears.

“I really wish I could go for a swim,” Isis said, standing with her toes curled over the edge of the tiles. “You’re so lucky. I love swimming.”

“No! Don’t even think about it,” Tom said. “Your bandages will get all soggy.” He gulped at the thought. “The pool’s yucky enough as it is. And what would you do with Cleo? She hates water!”

“Alice, go! Veejay, go! Tom, go!” the instructor shouted.

Tom pushed himself forward and started to swim down the lane. Every time he lifted his head to the side to gasp for air, he could see Isis strutting along beside him, holding her mummified cat.

“That’s right, Tom! Kick your legs!” she shouted.

Tom put his head back in the water. I’m so glad nobody else can see or hear her, he thought. She’s so embarrassing!

Two strokes later, he came up for air again.

“You’re too slow!” Isis yelled.

When his instructor was looking the other way, Tom started to tread water. He glared up at Isis.

“Who made you a swimming expert?” he said.

Isis held Cleo to her chest and put one hand on her hip. “I learned to swim in the River Nile, I’ll have you know,” she said. “And if I’d swum as slowly as you do, I’d have been eaten by the crocodiles!”

“Oh, really?” Tom said, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. “Well, why don’t you just go back to Ancient Egypt and jump in the Nile right now?”

Isis let out a sigh of irritation. “I would if I could,” she said. “It’s your fault that I’m here!” She pointed a finger at him. “You were the one who smashed the statue and released me and Cleo!”

“Yes, but it was your attitude that got you stuck in the statue in the first place,” Tom said. “The fact that you can’t get into the Afterlife until you’ve found the amulets has nothing to do with me. I just got roped into all this by accident!”

“Tom! No slacking!” the instructor’s gruff voice echoed across the pool. “Backstroke now!”

Tom turned over and started to swim on his back. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the mummy walking along the edge of the pool.

Suddenly, Tom was hit in the nose by something spongy.

“Aargh!” he yelped.

Next, he was hit in the shoulder. Isis was standing beside a stack of swimming floats. One by one, she hurled them at Tom. They hit the water with a plop!

Breeet! The instructor’s whistle piped shrilly across the pool area.

“Oi! Tom!” he boomed. “No floats allowed.”

Tom gulped. Great, he thought. It’s always the same. Isis gets me into trouble wherever we go. He flung one of the floats back at Isis. But the mummified princess merely ducked and giggled.

As Tom finished his length, the water in the pool started to get choppy. Tom spluttered as he swallowed a mouthful of water.

He looked round to see who was splashing. But the other children in his class had already climbed out. All by itself, the pool was churning and bubbling like a witch’s cauldron.

An enormous wave rose up out of the centre of the pool. It curled over Tom’s head and came crashing down.

Isis and Cleo clambered up the lifeguard’s chair to safety.

“What’s going on?” Tom cried.

“It’s Anubis!” she yelped. “Who else would try to drown us?”

CRASH! Another wave slapped down. Tom bobbed up and down in the water, fighting to keep his head above the surface. Oh, no, he thought. I don’t want to go time travelling now! I’m all wet!

The water in the centre of the pool swelled higher and higher, until two pointed ears broke through the surface. Then two glowing red eyes appeared, followed by a giant black snout. It was Anubis, the Ancient Egyptian god of the Underworld. He had the giant body of a man, but the head of a jackal.

“Hello, you little water rats,” Anubis bellowed. “Are you ready for your next adventure?”

“I’m pretty sure dogs aren’t allowed in the swimming pool,” Isis called from the lifeguard’s chair.

Anubis shook his head from side to side like a wet dog, spraying drops of water. “I see you’re still as disrespectful as ever,” he growled at her. “So I’m going to send you to someone who will teach you a lesson or two!”

Tom scrambled out of the pool and stood on the edge shivering.

As Anubis disappeared back under the surface in a funnel of water, it looked like somebody had yanked a plug out of the pool.

An icy wind whipped up round Tom, Isis and Cleo. Tom felt himself being pulled through the tunnels of time.

“I wonder where we’re going?” Isis shouted, as they sped along.

“I don’t know, but we’re about to find out!” called Tom.

“Wheeeeeeee!” Tom cried with delight, wondering where they would land. Anubis had hidden Isis’s amulets in some amazing – but dangerous – places and times. They’d found the last one in Ancient Greece, and before that they’d travelled back to Viking times, medieval England and Ancient Rome. There were only two more amulets to find now, and Tom couldn’t wait to see where the next one would be.

The three time travellers shot out of the tunnel and tumbled through warm air. They landed on fine white sand with a flump.

“Ooooh,” Isis cooed. “Look!” She stretched out an arm and pointed to the horizon.

Tom squinted at her in the blinding sunlight. “What? You’ve got your normal body back?” he asked. “No surprise there! That always happens when we travel through time.”

Isis shook her head. “No, silly! I’m talking about where we are.” She waved her arm around. “It’s gorgeous!”

It was true. They had landed on a perfect sandy beach in a deserted bay. Palm trees heavy with coconuts nodded in a light sea breeze. The blue sea lapped gently against the sand.

She’s right, Tom thought, chuckling to himself. This place isn’t bad. Maybe Anubis has sent us on a tropical holiday.

Tom looked down at his linen shirt and baggy breeches. “Look! My trunks have gone!” he said.

Isis tugged at her clothes. “What are these ridiculous outfits, exactly?” she asked.

Tom felt the frill on his shirt. “Not sure,” he said, frowning. “I don’t like the girly ruffles, though.”

Isis lay back on the warm sand with her arms behind her head. She looked at Tom with sparkling brown eyes that were lined with kohl. “This sunshine is just like being back home in Egypt,” she said, sighing happily. “So much nicer than cold and rainy old Britain. Never mind the Afterlife. Let’s just stay here! We can relax all day long and eat fresh fish and drink coconut milk!”

Cleo mewed in agreement before running off to chase crabs.

Tom leaped up. “Not a chance,” he said. “Come on! Let’s go exploring!”

After an hour of wandering in the hot sun, Isis didn’t seem to be enjoying the heat any more.

“I’m thirsty,” she moaned, grabbing her throat. “You have to find me some water.”

But as the three of them came out of a cove, Isis suddenly fell silent. Tom stared at the row of shop fronts and inns that lined the next bay along. They were all painted in pretty pastel colours. In the distance, people hurried along the promenade.

“I wonder what kind of place this is?” Isis said.

Tom gazed out to where large ships were anchored in the deeper water. Suddenly he spotted their flags, showing skulls, crossbones and cutlasses.

“Pirates!” he gulped.

Isis’s eyes widened. “Pirates?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “We had those back in my day.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re not in Ancient Egypt,” said Tom. He sheltered his eyes from the glare of the sun with his hand. “Those ships look like French or Dutch galleons,” he said. “I’ve seen them in books and films.”

Tom was about to ask Isis if she had ever seen Pirates of the Caribbean, but he realised how silly that would sound to someone who had lived five thousand years ago.

“So where are we?” Isis asked, as she scratched Cleo behind the ears.

“I think we’re in the eighteenth century,” Tom said. “Pirates were a massive problem then. They were always attacking ships carrying things like gold.”

“Gold?” Isis asked, wide-eyed.

“You bet!” Tom said. “The Caribbean Sea was where all the big pirate battles happened.”

“How could anyone want to fight when they’re living here?” Isis said, looking at the beautiful view.

“Forget the scenery!” Tom said. “We need to ask your scarab ring for some help if we’re going to find the fifth amulet.”

Isis nodded and stroked the magical golden scarab that sat on her finger. On it was a picture of the goddess Isis, whom Isis was named after. The ring had given Tom and Isis clues about where the first four amulets were hidden. “Goddess Isis,” Isis began. “Please, please help us once more! Tell us where we can find the fifth amulet.”

Silvery words flew up out of the ring and hung in the air in a riddle. Tom read it out to Isis:

“To seek this jewel, shining greeny-blue,

In a Spaniard’s chest of bullion,

First you must join the ragged crew,

As the Teacher’s lowly scullion.

His whiskers threaten like a thundercloud,

He’s the high seas’ worst rapscallion,

But he’ll help you pinch it from the crab,

Within sight of the red cross galleon.”

Isis sighed. “I haven’t got a clue what any of that means,” she said. “I never do. Explain, Professor Smartypants!”

“Well, it mentions a Spaniard,” Tom said. “Most of the Caribbean islands were ruled by the Spanish. Not sure about the rest, but it sounds like we’ve got to look for a man with a hairy, scary face! Maybe the red cross means we’ll find him at a hospital.”

Tom, Isis and Cleo set off walking towards the busy harbour.

“What’s a ‘rapscallion’?” Isis asked.

“My grandad uses that word,” Tom said. “I think it means that we’re after a bad guy.”

Before they’d gone far, they crossed paths with a young man. He was running so fast, he almost crashed right into them.

“Watch it!” Tom said.

The young man adjusted the red scarf that was tied round his long, dark hair. He wore the same kind of breeches and shirt as Tom and Isis, except his were covered in stains.

“Sorry!” he said, frowning. “What’s a pair of nippers doing in a dangerous hole like New Providence?”

“Is that where we are?” Tom asked. He had heard about New Providence in his history books. It was a famous pirate port.

The young man nodded. “Of course! You two need to get yourselves home sharpish, before you run into trouble.”

“Oh, we can’t,” Tom said, thinking fast. “We’ve been, er … shipwrecked. Our parents were lost at sea, but we clung to some wood and floated to this island.”

Isis pulled a sad face and sniffed, adding, “We don’t have a home to go back to …”

The young man held out his hand. “Salmagundi’s the name. Sal for short. I’m sorry to hear about your troubles.”

Tom shook Sal’s hand. “I’m Tom, this is Isis, and her cat, Cleo.”

“Listen,” Sal said, leaning in. His tanned face made his green eyes look slightly wild. “Not everyone here on New Providence is nice. So stick by me, OK? I’ll take you to the Jolly Barnacle Inn. I do the cooking there. But one day I’m going to be a pirate.”