The Coast of Barbary (eBook)

A Cape pirate adventure, Book 17

Gerrie Radlof, Pieter Haasbroek (Autoren)

Pieter Haasbroek (Herausgeber)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
81 Seiten
Pieter Haasbroek (Verlag)
9780000727497 (ISBN)

Infos

He escaped the life of a pirate, but the sea never forgets.

Plunge into the Golden Age of Piracy (1690-1720), where the treacherous waters of the Cape of Good Hope are just the beginning of a worldwide adventure.

Captain Oloff van Wagenaar thought his days of plunder and bloodshed were behind him. In Paris, he found peace, respectability, and a noble fiancée who offered him a new life far from the lawless seas. But when a mysterious message bearing the name of his lost love appears, Oloff is pulled back into a world of danger he can no longer escape.

Abducted and taken to the ruthless Barbary Coast, Oloff is forced into the service of the beautiful yet merciless Princess Shammar. She commands him to lead her pirate fleet on a bloody campaign to build a new empire on the ashes of old kingdoms.

Within her palace walls, Oloff makes a shocking discovery. His former love is alive, imprisoned, and a pawn in Shammar's deadly game. Now Oloff must choose. Surrender to the will of a princess who holds his fate in her hands, or risk everything to save the woman he cannot forget.

As alliances shift and betrayal waits in eery shadow, Oloff must unmask the true power behind the throne before he becomes the architect of his own destruction.

A swashbuckling historical pirate adventure filled with betrayal, romance, and high-seas intrigue.

Perfect for fans of Captain Blood, seafaring epics, and action-packed tales of pirates, courts, and kingdoms.

Step aboard and discover the unforgettable Oloff the Sea Pirate series and read this seventeenth book in the series today!

Textauszug

Chapter 2

But Oloff had merely stood up, and before the threatening pistols, he had not made any attempt to reach for his own weapons. He followed every movement of Ben Suliman while the Arab slowly rose ominously.

Some of the people sitting near the Arabs’ table realized that something interesting was happening. They turned in their chairs, and some stood up and came closer to watch the spectacle. They made no attempt to interfere, and there was silence among them because they had not followed the events up until then.

Ben Suliman glared at Oloff furiously. The short, thick fingers opened and closed.

“As I have said,” he eventually began, with emphasis on every word. “First, I am going to make you look as small as you really are. You will crawl at my feet!” There was a grin on his lips. “They say you are such a master swordsman, this will be the beginning of your humiliation, Hornak!” he barked at one of the Arabs, “he most likely has a pistol on him too. As soon as he reaches for it, you shoot!” And with these words, Ben Suliman pulled a sword from beneath his cloak. “Let’s see, Oloff. Let’s see what you are capable of.”

Oloff did not move. His hands hung loosely at his sides. His blue eyes did not leave the hands of the Arab.

The group of onlookers still did not understand what was happening, but they did realize that a fight was in store for them. They began to make excited comments. Apparently, they did not care that a degree of unfairness had crept into the proceedings.

But Oloff was fully aware of it. Up to now, Aurek’s motives were obscure to him. He refused to accept without further ado that the man had lured him here to avenge pirates who were completely unknown to him. This did not correspond with Oloff’s knowledge of the pirate mentality. But he did not try to analyze the matter. He focused his attention on the problem he was facing. Aurek was challenging him to a sword fight, but his comrades stood ready with their pistols. What would it benefit him to give Suliman a pasting? Most likely, he would only bring his death upon himself with it.

“Look, Ben Suliman,” said Oloff slowly, “I do not feel like this nonsense. Think what you will of it, but I refuse to waste my time with a pointless fight.”

The Arab hesitated. It almost seemed to Oloff as if he had suddenly become unsure of himself. But then, without the slightest doubt, he showed that his intentions were entirely positive in nature. He jerked the sword up horizontally before him.

“In that case, you will die like a dog!”

With lightning speed, as when he had leaned over the table and struck at Oloff, he charged. The sword point plunged down towards Oloff’s chest.

Oloff did not move. He was standing diagonally behind the chair on which he had been sitting. It was as if his upper body was unaware of the movement of his right leg, but he hooked his foot under the chair, and it shot up from the floor, and the sword sliced through the seat. The weight of the piece of furniture pulled the blade towards the ground.

The crowd screamed with delight. Ben Suliman bellowed with rage. He jerked the sword out of the chair, and Oloff realised that the Arab would not give him a breather again.

However, he had expected it. His rapier was in his right hand. He had brought it out so quickly that some of the closest onlookers recoiled as if they thought he had conjured the weapon into his hand.

Lightly, his fingertips clasped the sword pommel. But so powerful was the grip and so strong his wrist that the first thrust that Ben Suliman delivered, apparently still before he realized that Oloff had drawn his sword, swished more than a foot to the left of him. In that moment, the Arab’s chest was an open target for Oloff.

Ben Suliman shrieked, and it was a scream of fear, for the point of Oloff’s rapier cut past here in front of him, and it appeared as if he was going to deliver a mortal blow. But when he stood back with a dismayed expression in his black eyes, the crowd cheered. The top of Ben Suliman’s cloak was neatly cut open so that his hairy chest was clearly visible.

Oloff’s eyes flashed to the Arabs on the side of the table. He had delivered that blow out of reckless bravado, although he had realized that the Arabs might attack him because they thought that he was going to kill Suliman. And it seemed to him as if a look of admiration had crept into the eyes of the young slave, but he had looked at him so fleetingly that he could not be completely sure.

“You low scoundrel!” Ben Suliman hissed now. “Tonight, you will die!”

“You have said that before,” Oloff calmly retorted. “You talk too much, fellow.”

That was enough. Again, the Arab charged. From the beginning, Oloff had noticed that the man’s sword was longer than his rapier. In addition, the Arab, despite his short, corpulent stature, had exceptionally long arms. Ben Suliman therefore apparently thought that he would easily penetrate Oloff’s defence, but with effortless ease, Oloff repeatedly parried his sword aside. This drove the Arab to fury. He alternated his blows with a relentless regularity. He slashed at Oloff’s sword, and then he tried to deliver a thrust with his long arm.

Oloff noticed that Ben Suliman was not becoming careless. Often before, Oloff had seen his opponents become blind with rage, but although the Arab was showing the same reaction, the gaze of the black eyes remained clear and fixed on Oloff’s blue ones.

Still, Oloff remained on the defence. Still, he remained occupied with the problem of the pistol muzzles that were aimed at him. If there had not been a table between them, he would have tried to get into a position so that Ben Suliman was between him and the other Arabs. But all that he could then do was to burst through the crowd and flee up the stairs. He would not manage that, for they were standing packed together in a dense circle, and behind them, the group had clambered onto chairs and tables to get a better view.

“Tell me, Captain Aurek,” Oloff asked after a while, and he saw the flicker of surprise in his opponent when he heard how composed and unhurried Oloff’s voice was, “if I now put you out of action, what will your yappers there with the pistols do?”

“That... is... is for you... for you to find out.” He was out of breath. The sweat rolled over his round face.

“That is not really very fair,” Oloff remarked indignantly.

“I... I will show you... what fair is!” Ben Suliman snapped at him. “Hornak!” he then called.

Oloff stepped back slightly. Ben Suliman did not charge at him immediately. The last outcry had surprised Oloff. The Arab who had been called by Aurek stuck his pistol into his belt and then drew a sword from its sheath. He walked around the table and joined Ben Suliman.

Oloff smiled slightly. Then, there were now two of them. Even in that moment, it struck him that Hornak must have a particularly good understanding, or else this matter had been discussed beforehand, quite possibly, that was the case, for Oloff assumed that Ben Suliman had decided in advance how he was going to act.

“I see you need help!” he exclaimed, and this evoked laughter from the onlookers. In Oloff’s outward appearance, there was not the slightest sign of the seriousness with which he regarded the matter. Still, the whole business was a mystery to him, from the note that he had received that afternoon to the current behaviour of the Arabs.

They did not answer. Like one man, they leapt at Oloff. The pale light of the oil lamps was dimly reflected on the rapier blade. Oloff had changed his grip. It was no longer the fine accuracy of the blow that counted now. Rather, it was the strength with which he pushed aside the weapons of the others. He did not step backwards. Lightly, he swayed on his toes, although it appeared as if his heels barely left the ground. However much his opponents charged forward, it was as if they were coming up against a wall of steel.

But Oloff realised that he would not be able to withstand the attack for too long. He saw the compressed lips of the other two. They had only one goal. They wanted to drive him to his knees before all the people.

And while he was still warding off their blows, he watched their methods with meticulous care. Each had his own pattern. Oloff waited until they both delivered a thrust at the same time, and then he broke free with an unexpected whirlwind of parrying, slashing, and thrusting blows that caught the two so off guard that they only came to their senses again five steps backwards. There, they retaliated with everything they were worth, but Oloff kept them pinned down.

“Perhaps they still need help,” he remarked.

To his left was a dull bump and clinking of coins. It appeared as if the young slave had dropped the sack of money.

“Stand back!” Ben Suliman commanded sharply, and he gasped for breath before he continued, “Back, or we will shoot!”

Oloff stepped back. He lowered his sword point, but his eyes remained on the two Arabs. He heard the shuffling behind him, and a few of the onlookers shouted warnings. Before he could turn around, however, he was grabbed by both arms on either side, and a pistol pressed against his back.

“Just stay still!” Ben Suliman barked.

The blood roared in Oloff’s ears. Rage boiled up in him. The scoundrels were too bad to be able to finish him off with their swords while he was at liberty, now he had to be held down to receive the death blow.

But Ben Suliman was busy putting his sword back into its sheath. Surprised, Oloff looked at Hornak, but he was doing the...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 27.8.2025
• Übersetzer: Pieter Haasbroek, Ai
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9780000727497 / 9780000727497