Peter The Great, of Orange. Usurper on the Throne. Sergey Soloviev

      ISBN 978-5-0064-8678-2

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      PROLOGUE. The Last Case of Pirate Peter

      Peter van Mush stood on the forecastle, at the helm of the ship. His brig “Red Tulip” was sailing in a strong wind, listing slightly to port. Yes, too many sails were raised, but the desperate captain was not afraid. His navigator saw a Spanish ship on the horizon, and he did not want to lose the prey. Money was needed, and a lot of it, to patch up his beloved ship, and please the crew with the ringing of silver and gold coins.

      – Joachim! Load the guns at the sides with grapeshot, and the two bow ones with cannonballs!

      – Got it, Peter! Hey, guys, get to work quickly! – shouted gunner Joachim Lang.

      And although the gunner was already fifty-four years old, he was very dexterous and quick, and had a sure eye. And what is important, Joachim got used to the brig’s carronades, and they to him. Every landlubber thinks that it is so easy to fire a ship’s cannon. No, it is easy to fire, but not easy to hit. But the sea is not land… And any ship rocks on the waves. There is pitching and rolling, and the cannon sometimes rises up, as if aiming at the moon. Sometimes it dives down together with the deck flooring, as if it wants to shoot a whale or a dolphin! But Herr Lang had become accustomed to firing from a cannon over the years of service on the brig, and with a broadside of six cannons, even with strong rolling, he managed to hit the enemy at a distance of a mile with one cannonball. From the bow he hit with one cannonball out of three fired! Peter appreciated and loved the gunner, and he loved his cast-iron carronades. Yes, these guns came from distant Russia, the land of cheap bread and caviar. Many cast iron products came from there. After all, there were plenty of forests in the distant kingdom.

      Herr van Musch once tried black caviar, no, he really liked it, although, of course, it was no better than lobsters, as it seemed to him…

      The ships continued to approach each other, and good Joachim hit the stern rig with the second shot. The first cannonball raised a high column of water in the sea near the enemy’s side

      Peter heard the carronade shot, but he did not hear the screams and breaking boards on the Spaniard’s deck, and did not want to hear it. The only thing spinning in his head was how many thalers these three shots cost him… Cast iron cannonballs, half a thaler, and gunpowder, a thaler per lare, and that’s four and a half thalers! They fired at them twice from the merchant’s stern, but the cannonballs missed. But then the Spanish flag began to crawl down, and was replaced not by a white one, but by the Union Jack, the flag of Britain.

      – It can’t be, Peter, they’re lying! – Jaan Michels, the ship’s navigator, cried out in despair, – order them to stop!

      On the mast of the brig “Red Tulip” the flags began to crawl, ordering them to stop. On the former Spaniard, now British, a flag was raised, indicating agreement. And indeed, the sails were lowered.

      – I don’t care who it is, but they’ll pay the ransom! We’ve been chasing them all day! A thousand thalers, nothing less! – the simply enraged pirate captain whispered under his breath.

      – Peter, they’re signaling that they want to send a boat to us! – the navigator shouted, looking through the telescope at the signals.

      – Answer that we will accept the parliamentarians! Boatswain! Lower the gangway!

      – We will do it! – and Anton Priest whistled his pipe.

      The crew quickly began to carry out the boatswain’s commands, and the rope, but not the ceremonial, ladder appeared at the side of the brig. Well, Peter van Musch deigned to put on his ceremonial doublet. But he also hid a pair of double-barreled pistols on his belt. The captain lived by the principle: “You should not trust anyone.” And he was never wrong about this.

      But from behind the side of the merchant ship, “The Seagull”, as van Musch finally saw, came out a rowboat, with eight oars. Two officers stood on the bow, one of them holding a white flag. Here, two parliamentarians came aboard the brig.

      – Jacob Cooper, the ship’s captain, and Gabriel Twice, the navigator, – both introduced themselves, – and you, the notorious Peter van Musch, a Dutch privateer?

      – That’s right, – the pirate grinned, adjusting his cat’s whiskers, – let’s go to my cabin, have some coffee and rum?

      Van Mush noticed that his boatswain had persuaded the sailors from the launch to get up as well. And he had already passed them all clay mugs of rum. Herr Priest was a smart and efficient guy, which the captain of the Red Tulip always liked.

      Cooper and Twice calmly entered the Dutchman’s cabin, and Vert Peter had to bend over hard so as not to crack his head. He was seven feet tall, after all, no less.

      – Sit down, gentlemen, he’ll bring us some coffee and rum now… – the hospitable host suggested.

      – And yet, Sir Peter, will we be forced to file a complaint against you with the Admiralty if you, shall we say, don’t give us a hundred sovereigns for the inconvenience?

      – And that’s all… – Van Mush whispered.

      And these were the last words the English heard. Peter instantly fired two pistols at the English gentlemen. He was slowly searching his waistcoat when the cook entered the cabin.

      – See, my friend, how it all turned out? Put away the extra utensils, but leave the rum and coffee.

      Peter looked at the bodies, freed from their outerwear and shoes. He drank his coffee slowly and smoked tobacco from his favorite pipe. There was no need to hurry, he just had to wait until evening.

      ***

      – Anton, you are the captain today! – and he threw Jacob Cooper’s waistcoat and trousers to him.

      – Peter, a hole? – and the navigator stuck two fingers into the hole.

      – Well, forgive me.. I didn’t watch closely enough. Jaan, you are the assistant!

      The navigator just shrugged and began to put on Gabriel Twice’s clothes. The bodies of the dead sailors from the Seagull lay at the side, also naked. An axe and a block lay nearby. Peter grinned, trying out the grippy handle of the axe.

      And his pirates began to carry the bodies to the deck, where Herr van Musch quickly decapitated the dead. Peter looked at his work, rinsed his hands.

      – Everything overboard, so that the “Chaika” wouldn’t see anything. And my axe in the boat!

      Van Musch had difficulty dressing in a sailor’s outfit, and rowed with everyone else, and Jaan Michels and Anton Priest stood at the bow of the boat. Each had four pistols. And, as often happens in these latitudes, it was getting dark quickly, so a lantern was burning at the stern of the boat. They moved slowly, measuredly, and the “Chaika” crew did not notice the catch.

      The pirates immediately scattered throughout the ship, sowing death and horror everywhere. But the English did not think about resistance, the poor things did not understand what was going on. Peter dragged the five survivors to the upper deck: the cook, the boatswain, the navigator, the owner of the cargo, and the junior officer. They were all sitting tied up near the captain’s cabin. Michels and Twice took all the navigation instruments and maps, and the box with money.

      “The Red Tulip” moored alongside the English merchant, and the pirates busily lifted the cargo from the hold with a crane beam and lowered it onto their deck. Work was in full swing.

      – It’s time to leave, Peter, – Michels reminded in a dull, hoarse voice.

      – Don’t interfere, Jaan. I won’t miss what’s mine, – Peter answered angrily, grabbing