Revolution (Book 2 in the Rise Trilogy)

Defending a Tiny Ship, Some Mines, and a Freaking Fake Broken Fort

Defending a Tiny Ship, Some Mines, and a Freaking Fake Broken Fort

“Ah, it's good to be at sea again! But I don't much like that sky.”

Connor chuckles. “Even a pretty sunrise is a bad omen to you, Mister Faulkner.”

I smile as I brush faded blue and yellow hair away from my eyes that fell from the long braid draped down my right shoulder. That was probably from placing my black captain’s hat back on my head. I tug on my sword at my belt and feel the urge to tighten the laces on my hidden blades again. I’m not quite sure why I’m so fidgety this early morning. Maybe I’m worried about little Connor back on the homestead, maybe about Biddle, or about the events soon to come. It’s probably all three.

The sun is just now rising over the blue horizon of the East Coast. The golden rays cast a glow across the Aquila and our faces and reach out to color the ever-blue water. There’s a warm breeze flowing through the white sails and makes the morning already seem cooler. The winter months aren’t for a while but it feels like they’ve already arrived.

We left early this morning with some protest form little Connor, of course. I knew this would be more than just a fun and simple boat ride on the water. I also forgot how badass I feel and look in my captain uniform. Not to mention Connor in those pants…

“Where are these raiders?” Connor’s question to Faulkner brings me back to the present. We are on the hunt for some British raiders causing trouble in the Vineyards nearby. Amanda called us to inspect the situation.

“By guess and by God an Easterly course - t'wards the coast,” Faulkner says to Connor. “Miss Mandy reports of some British boats gathering somewhere in these rocks, threatenin' the Vineyard.”

“Is it Biddle’s doing?” I ask.

“Where would you get that idea, Riley?” Connor asks me turning his head to look at me as he controls the wheel of the Aquila. I don’t reply.

“We’ve only heard of the British causing problems here,” Faulkner says. “And Nicholas Biddle sails for the Patriots, not the Loyalists.”

“You never know,” I mutter.

“Sails ahoy!” a crew member calls out.

We all turn our heads towards the British gunboats sailing our way. Or more towards the small merchant sloop we are trying to guard for safe passage back into the Vineyard.

“British gunboats after one of the Vineyard's ships captains!” Faulkner calls to us. “We must protect her! Draw their fire, captain! We need to keep the gunboats off 'er till she reaches the Vineyard pier!”

Connor steers the Aquila around a huge rock in the middle of the small bay before calling to the men, “Get ready to fire, men!” The gun officers order their men to take positions for the swivel guns.

“FIRE!”

The crew shoots a spray of small swivel cannons into the three small sloops preventing them from sinking the small merchant boat and blowing them up instantly.

“Nice shot,” I say with a triumphant grin.

“What is next?” Connor asks glancing at me from the captain’s wheel.

“Follow the merchant ship,” I reply calmly. “There’s trouble ahead.”

As we follow the ship, the Aquila takes out a few more small gunboats before we come into view of some mines bobbing in the water formed into a line blocking our path.

“Mines, captains!” Faulkner says to us. “Destroy 'em or use 'em to our advantage. Either way, avoid the blasted things!”

“To our advantage? How?” Connor asks as he turns the Aquila away from some nearby rocks.