The Rapier

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

When I was sure Elena was safe below the deck of the newly made Fortuna, I turned from the stairwell and back towards the main deck, surveying the damage carefully. A man had fallen to his sudden death on the deck near the main mast. Both his legs splayed out awkwardly from beneath him at odd angles, and his face was a bloddy mask of horor. His was the only death on board, however.

Men were still picking themselves up from the deck, pulling sharp shards of woods from their arms and legs like giant splinters, and wiping the remnants of ashes from the smouldering sail that had taken the brunt of the canon fire. Beyond the sails and the wooden railings of the port side, naught else was damaged. I hurried to the helm to set the direction, towards the incoming fog bank with all haste. If we were to survive with the governor's own ships after us, it wouldn't do to meet them in battle, three to one. Outrunning the brigades was much more plausible, and as long as the wind stayed in our favor we would fare well.

I strode the deck nervously, calling to the men who had taken posts as helmsmen, the ship falling into a natural order that only men who made a trade of sailing knew how to form. Still it all felt odd without Smythe by my side; the old Irishman was worth ten of the soldiers around me. After the loss of my ship to Callahan only days ago I hadn't expected he survived. Smythe would go down with his ship like any captain should, and like I hadn't. But for my cowardice I had been awarded a goddess by the gods who sat on high, and for that I was thankful. After all, no one ever bet on a pirate's honor.

An hour later, two of the pursuing ships had gained nearly a dozen boatlengths, and soon would be within firing range for at least their forward cannons. I considered a plan of action alone, and called to two of my new helmsman to join me.

Callahan's Relentless had been known for its manuverability on the high sea. As a point of style Callahan would appear out of nowhere and then fire off repeating rounds of cannon fire, aiming to disable the ship with blows to its steering. But the governors own would be second rate sailors at best, and if the governor himself were aboard and in command, he no doubt would be too proud to retreat from an attack. I hoped I could use this to my advantage.

Jamison and Holmes stood before me with wide grins. Both I had known since they were lads too short to see over the sidewalls of the Fortuna. "Glad to see you made it out alive,Captn Remy," said Holmes with a wink. "After Callahan destroyed the Lady we all thought you was a goner."

"Come now Mr. Holmes," I scoffed, "You know good and well it'll take more then a surprise attack to be rid of me. Now tell me, how many guns do we have?"

"I counted sixty on either side last I was below deck, Captn," answered Jamison. Holmes gave a nod.

"And the crew? Have we enough men for each?"

"More'n enough, Captn," Holmes answered, "We can be ready to fire in twenty minutes I reckon."

"See to it then, Mr Holmes. I want every man not tending to rigging below deck on a cannon. I mean to spill the wind from her sails until they've caught us and then spin around give them hell. Prepare three teams of twenty spaced evenly along the port side, and have lads ready to run the cannons back and reload them. Hurry now."

"Aye!" Holmes called with a tip of his cap. He turned away, calling the names of several dozen men as he quickly disappeared below deck.

"Mr. Jamison, can you fight?" I asked the young standing before me. He was in his prime, maybe twenty or twenty one, his sun tanned skin and dark flashing eyes confident. I shook the curls out of my eyes and looked .

"Aye Captn, I'm as good with a musket as any man and can grapple against three men unarmed. Don't think I would stand a chance against your sword, though."