Marina didn't bother to rein in her mood while she changed her clothes. She was pissed off, period. With those Ken and Marshall morons. With that Robin moron. With that other moron that maybe commanded the war brigantine in merchantman disguise. She went back to the bridge and checked everything was ready for the upcoming battle.
"We're crossing behind her, De Neill," she said, her tone clearing any doubt about her mood. "We'll get the weather gage by larboard. Maxó, tell Jean that if that ship turns out to be the New Lion, I want him to not only shred her rudder, but also to sink her."
"Aye, aye, pearl!" the pirates replied, swallowing a chuckle.
"You know the ship?" asked Robin.
Marina rolled her eyes and refused to answer.
Morris decided to stretch his already-thin patience a little more. "Maybe. We think her captain could be the Lion, who used to be the star of the Windward Fleet."
Robin's lips shaped a silent exclamation.
From the Phantom, the pirates watched how the light Jamaican pataches soon got the brigantine in range. But they didn't open fire. They tried to catch up and run alongside her, hoping to board her with minimum damages to the prey they thought they already had.
"Ahoy! The brigantines' rigging!" Oliver warned, his top taken over by sharpshooters with muskets.
The filibusters watched the brigantine's sails shift to lay parallel to the wind. Marina snarled a curse that surprised those around her. Maxó was the only one who dared to laugh.
"It's the blockhead! He's copied our trick!"
Robin was wise enough to wait before asking more questions. And he only had to wait a few minutes to see what they meant. The brigantine slowed down, letting the pataches catch up. Then the red plank came up and six cannons showed out the gunports. The broadside hit Marshall's ship, shattering her bow. The foremast broke in two and fell on the deck, crushing and injuring most of the crew.
Ken Brannalagh's patache, shielded behind his partner's, was spared. Trying to take advantage of the brigantine's loss of speed, he ordered to turn alarboard to cross before her bow, intending to break away from those unexpected guns, and maybe even catch one of the other merchantmen.
But while her cannons still fired, the brigantine's sails were trimmed again, and she sped up. The Jamaican patache crossed only a few yards before her keel.
On the Phantom, everybody turned to Marina, who nodded, grunting under her breath.
"Hold on," Morris said to Robing.
Hearing Briand's only shout, the filibusters unfurled all the jibs and auxiliary sails, and their swift coordination made the Robin gape. The Phantom gained speed, starting on a dizzy race toward the brigantine.
Meanwhile, Ken was enough of a full to stay on his southwest course, instead of turning south to get the hell away. That way, the brigantine didn't need to maneuver to show him her larboard side, with all her guns still loaded. The second broadside wasn't as effective as the first one, but it damaged the Jamaican patache seriously.
The Phantom's course was too slanted to get a good shot with its fore chasers, so Jean ordered to fire the larboard battery. In a desperate attempt to keep from sinking with his boat, Ken ordered a bold maneuver: he stayed on the brigantine's wake to try to board her by the transom.
"Son of a sloop full of bitches!" Marina snarled, surprising the pirates again with her unusual lewdness.
"There goes our wake crossing," Morris grunted.
"Thrust the bowsprit behind her waist, De Neill!" the girl commanded. "Everybody, hold tight! Shooters ready! The rest with me!" She turned to Robin. "You stay here."
"Like hell!"
Marina fought back her urge to slap Robin. "That's the best master and commander of the Caribbean! And you've never been in a fight! I can't save your moronic privateers if I have to babysit you!"
Before Robin could argue, Marina jumped over the handrail with Morris and they ran together to the bowsprit.
Alone on the bridge, Robin wielded his sword and stood there, breathing heavily, struggling between humiliation and excitement.
Ken had made it. His men had thrown hooks at the brigantine wherever they could, and climbed up the transom to the taffrail, letting their patache be dragged by the brigantine. De Neill turned west, only enough to get a better position, and then turned south again, on a collision course.
At the bow, Marina, Morris and a dozen pirate climbed up the bowsprit and held to the stays, pistols in hand. At the girl's command, all the pirate shooters fired against the brigantine's crew. The Spaniards responded with a musket discharge. Jean fired the chasers, just in time to crack the brigantine's starboard side before the Phantom's bowsprit rammed into it.
The Spaniard had a moment of utter surprise when they saw Marina and her men jump on them from the bowsprit. And while De Neill maneuvered to lay the Phantom alongside the brigantine, the rest of the filibusters threw hooks from the gunwale to keep both ships together.
But the girl noticed they were ready to face an attack on two fronts, and they were positioned to fight on the starboard side and the stern. She also saw that even if they didn't wear military garments, they wore something like a uniform.
"TORTUGA!" she shouted, charging against the swords that replaced the unloaded muskets in her enemies' hands.
Ken and his men understood the filibusters' plan and fought their way to the Phantom. But they whole Spaniard crew stood between them and their goal.
Appreciating the irony, Marina acknowledged that the Spaniards fought like lions, with much more courage and drive than anything she'd ever found on the Burgundy Cross warships. The battle was thick, and the filibusters had a hard time breaching in. Soon the fight spread below deck, where the Jamaicans repelled the gunners trying to join the battle in deck.
"Pearl!" Morris called then, nodding to the Phantom's bridge.
"Darn idiot!" Maxó snarled when they saw Robin jump to the Spanish ship.
The Englishman joined the Jamaicans, and was dragged with them down the aft hatch. Marina and Morris, leading the charge hardly past the mainmast, saw him go down backwards, defending himself with sword and knife.
"I'm going for him. You finish here," the girl grumbled.
The fight below deck was just as thick as in the open. From the companionway, Marina spotted Robin's frizzy hair as he moved behind a cribbing, apparently fighting against a Spaniard that had the upper hand.
"Robin!" she shouted, seeing him get an ugly slash along his left arm, that made him drop his knife.
She rushed to him, pushing Spaniards and Jamaicans out of her way. She reached the cribbing at the exact moment when Robin staggered back. She clasped his arm and yanked him further back to take his place, just in time to block a blow meant to split his head open.
The Spaniard stepped back with a surprised interjection and Marina met Castillano's blue eyes, gaping at her like she were a ghost. Loose the golden mane, his face sprayed in blood, the shirt open on the chest nobody but her had ever hurt.
The girl ignored her own shock, her racing heart beating in her throat, the chill running down her body to shake her knees. She took advantage of his bafflement to disarm him in two strikes, and she turned to Robin, who tried to stop the blood gushing out his wound.
"Let's go, Robin!" she cried, circling his waist with her arm to guide him to the companionway.
Morris had sent Jean with a large number of filibusters to clean Marina's way. They met her and surrounded her and Robin, allowing them to reach the weather deck safely. The girl ordered Gerrit and two more to take Robin back to the Phantom and ran back down the companionway, determined to end that bloodshed.
Castillano had retrieved his blades and was fighting against Jean. Marina hurried to them.
"Jean, stop!"
The pirate pushed Castillano back against a cribbing and put the tip of his sword on Castillano's chest to keep him from attacking again. Marina added her own sword to her master gunner's.
"Surrender or I'm killing every one of your men," she said, holding his furious glower.
Castillano clenched his teeth, agitated and sweaty but unharmed. His voice filled the crowded space, overcoming noises and yelling. "Men of the Lion! Stop!"
Spaniards and Jamaicans hesitated, and Jean deployed his men all over the deck. Marina kept her blade under Castillano's chin and raised her eyebrows.
He dropped his blades with an angry growl. His men did the same, as surprised and furious as their captain with that defeat. Until a voice yelled among the cannons.
"The New Lion doesn't surrender! Kill the who—!"
A shot cut the shout off, making the Spaniards cringe. The man dropped dead, a reddening hole between his eyes. Marina turned to Castillano, the smoking pistol still in her hand.
"No wonder. The crew reflects the captain," she said scornfully. "Jean, take them up."