The Reaper

next target. Because the schooner alongside was a smaller ship, Drakkar’s marines were having a heyday firing down onto the pirates below them. The last volley cleared a mob of pirates that had gathered in the waist.

“Boarders, away!” Anthony had his sword out, as did Buck. Bart had armed himself with a tomahawk and his cutlass. The freshly sharpened blade glinted in the sunlight. Grapnels had locked the ships togetheer and Drakkar’s boarders half-slid, half-jumped down on the schooner’s deck.

Anthony landed with a grunt. He slipped and, peering down, saw he’d landed on a dead pirate’s innards. A huge pirate took his mind off the gore by screaming obscenities and attacking him with a boarding pike. Bart dispatched the pirate with his tomahawk, but no sooner was the man down than Anthony found himself facing two more pirates. One was a foul-smelling, hawkish man. Anthony shot him at point blank range with his pistol. As the man’s face turned to a bloody pulp, his mate was upon Anthony with a boarding pike and cutlass. The man was strong, but slow. He reeked of rum, perspiration and death. Fighting the brute, Anthony found himself in the center of a melee. He was being bumped, prodded and lashed from a number of directions. A wounded pirate fell from the rigging and slammed into Anthony, causing him to fall to one knee. As he did, he raised his blade to deflect a blow from another pirate’s cutlass. The shock numbed his shoulder. However, swinging with such force threw the big oaf off-balance, opening his guard. Anthony thrust upward, driving his sword through the man’s neck. A fountain of blood gushed out, spraying Anthony. Shouts, groans that turned into screams, the thud as a boarding pike crushed a skull, gunshots, and metal against metal as men fought with blades. Desperate men fighting to live.

Drakkar’s boarders now had the upper hand. They had pushed the remaining pirates to the alt rail. Lt. Dunn’s marines held them at bay with muskets and bayonets. The defeated pirates finally threw down their weapons in surrender.

***

The two schooners were LeFoxxe and LeCroix. Both were French-named, but crewed by a motley group of various descriptions. Some wore jackboots while others were barefooted. A few sported colorful sashes tied about their waist while others were naked from the waist up. All appeared to be vicious brutes, now doomed for the hangman’s knot. The barque was a private ship, The Royal Chatham, bound for Barbados. Her captain, officers and many of the crew and passengers were dead. Anthony could still recall the look of dismay on their faces as Gabe and Earl described the scene they’d encountered as they boarded the ship.

The deck was soaked in blood. The pirates were in a frenzy and had not only killed but had mutilated the bodies. The ship owner’s wife, “Lady Deborah McKean,” had been forced to watch as her husband and servant girl were murdered. The servant girl had been stripped, repeatedly raped, then had her breasts cut off. Two pirates had joked as they fondled the breasts, remarking on what fine “purses” they’d make.

Anthony had inquired, “Is the lady well?”

“Aye,” replied Earl. “As good as she can be after that.”

“Gutted Lord McKean like a mackerel,” Gabe had said.

“It’s a good thing we arrived when we did. Otherwise…The surgeon is doing what he can for the survivors now, sir,” Gabe volunteered.

“Good,” said Anthony. “When they’re able to be moved, have them brought on board Drakkar.”

***

Anthony walked to the starboard side rail. He’d heard the quartermaster’s whisper to warn the watch “cap’n on deck.” Anthony peered over the rail and into the Caribbean waters. The sparkle of the phorphorus on the black water, with the moon shining down, made him melancholy. It had only been thirty-six hours or so since they’d engaged the pirates and captured the two schooners. Time had been taken to make needed repairs before proceeding on to Antigua. The sound of the carpenter’s saws and hammer still seemed to vibrate in Anthony’s head. Looking aft, he could barely see the nearest prize as it followed in Drakkar’s wake. From the time Lady McKean had come on board he’d felt a strange tightness in his chest. It was like something he’d never experienced. He was uneasy with this new sensation. He was a King’s officer, and shouldn’t be moping like a schoolboy. The poor woman had gone through so much. He should be feeling sorry for her-feeling sympathy. But dammit, she stirred him, and they’d barely even spoken. As would be expected, he offered her his cabin-a gesture appropriate for a lady of her status. It was the least he could do given the tragedy and horror she had just experienced. Silas had fussed over her proper like. She had been Anthony’s dinner guest this evening. Silas had prepared a simple, but tasty supper, the first they had taken together since she came aboard Drakkar.

Silas first served a light wine with cheese and nuts to create the appetite. He then brought out a ragout of pork, carrots, and pureed potatoes. The butter was starting to taste a little old but it was still good with the bread Silas had kept warm by putting a hot block wrapped in a cloth next to it. Anthony knew he was doing his best to impress the lady when for dessert he surprised them with a dish of his special apple tarts. These were almost as famous as his coffee and the two went well together.

The meal had been very subdued-polite, but quiet. Yet there was something there, drawing him to her. He could still smell the faint odor of her perfume as it lingered on the night air intermingled with the familiar scents of the sea. Anthony found himself peering aft again. Buck had taken command of the barque. Mr. Earl had one schooner, and Gabe-with a master’s mate-had the other.

What a sight they would make entering harbor. The Royal Chatham would be recognized immediately. This would start tongues wagging. He could envision the signals from the flag officer already. Questions would certainly be raised. Was it simply bad luck the Royal Chatham would fall into the clutches of two pirates working together? Some would wonder if there might be an accomplice ashore-a traitor, who had sent word so that the pirates would be lying in wait for the barque and its rich cargo. Someone who was getting rich from his share of the booty, but without endangering himself in open battle. If there were such a person, he was obviously shrewd, and dangerous. Anthony’s mind drifted back to the “prizes” and Gabe.

Gabe had reported a large sum of gold, silver and jewels, as well as other valuables, in the captain’s cabin on board the schooner he had boarded. Anthony couldn’t help but feel some of the “treasure” may not have made it aboard Drakkar. When Gabe had been asked how much loot had been found, his answer seemed somewhat evasive-“too much to count sir.” Dagan had spoken up, an act which was rare in itself. “Aye, too much to count, and no record to go by, sir.” Anthony thought that without proper records, he had nothing to account for. The Admiralty would be very grateful for what he had recovered. Still, he wondered if Gabe and Dagan didn’t profit from a wee bit of larceny.

Chapter Six

Antigua was a small island, but was great in regards to the needs of the Royal Navy in the West Indies. As dawn’s light lit the sky the master’s predictions came true. The island seemed to creep up over the horizon until it was in plain view. This made old Peckham strut like a peacock. Anthony never doubted the master’s prediction, and was just as excited as he at having made a perfect landfall. It had been nearly six weeks since they had left England. Not a speed record by any means, but the time had been well used. The crew’s sail handling had been tested in all kinds of weather conditions. They had become proficient with the guns, and now Drakkar was battle tested. Not much of a battle to be sure-but for a first action Anthony was more than pleased. The crew had been seasoned, and had grown together and now was a fighting unit. There had been one flogging, but this was expected. On most ships there would have been many more. Except for Witzenfeld, the passage had been a perfect training exercise.

As the sun rose, the sky became cloudless. The deep blue Caribbean seemed to invite and welcome the frigate