The woman sat up at the mention of another ship, wincing in pain as she did.
“What colors does it fly?” she asked opening her eyes further with a gleam of hope flashing through them. Will hesitated a second, if the approaching ship was in concert with this woman, they likely wouldn’t take kindly to the man who had sunk their sister ship.
“I saw no colors, only full sails rigged on a three masted ship, a frigate class approaching from the south.” Will answered.
“That’ll be the Maiden and there will be hell to pay at her hands,” she shot back with a smile breaking through her pained expression. “There may be some goodwill for rescuing me. But you killed two dozen others Captain James will want an answer for.”
“If there is a price to pay for fulfilling my duties, then I will face that as well.” Will said locking his eyes onto hers in a grim stare.
Lieutenant Shelton leaned against the framing of the empty fantail window, stretching to catch a glimpse of the approaching ship. His head snapped back into the cabin as Will spoke his last reply to the woman.
“She sails with a black banner Will and they’re close, now is as good a time as any.” Shelton was already sheathing his sword into its scabbard at his waist and slinging a musket around his shoulders.
“Alright lad, up you go. When you get to the helm, call out and we will join you on deck. Likely you’ll catch them off guard and if that pirate crew boards it is going to be utter chaos out there.” Will said in a low tone. “Keep your head about you Lieutenant.”
Will followed him to the fantail windows and assisted each man trying to shimmy out the window and scale the stern up onto the aft castle deck. He handed out muskets and braced their legs while each climbed out into the dark night. Once the last man was away and they had scurried out of sight up onto the deck above, Will hurried back to the cabin hatch. He strained to listen through the steady drum beat of impacts against the wooden door separating him from the mutinous crewmen. Thump, thump, thump had been the dreadful steady death toll for hours since they had barricaded themselves inside the cabin.
The absence of a beat made Will’s heart race. His thoughts flashed, too fast to grasp hold of individually. Had they spotted Shelton up on the decks? Was he alive? Were they engaged right now? Will strained to hear. Shouts muffled through the bulkheads sounded, he heard running footsteps and then a volley of shots. More shouts followed and again several shots thundered through the wooden bulkhead. Then Will could hear Lieutenant Shelton’s voice distinctly, “We’ve got them on the run! For the Captain boys!” Will’s smile spread uncontrollably across his face and he turned to the marines in the cabin. “Move this riff raff lads, we’re going out to join the fray.” He stepped over and knelt next to the woman on the cabin floor.
“Can you move on your own?” he asked.
“Aye. I hurt, but it will take more than this to keep me from a fight,” she replied, wincing as he helped her to her feet. “Are you going to arm me then?”
“I’m not in the habit of slitting my own throat miss, nor handing a blade to one who would put it in my back.” Will was taken aback at her request.
“You’ll have to get over your damned self. You spared my life, at least let me defend it for what I can,” she snapped back. Will reluctantly opened a trunk near the bench seat on the fantail and looking in found the sword belonging to Admiral Sharpe.
“Its last owner was an honorable man. It is yours for the fight, but I will want it to turn over to his next of kin,” he sighed and handed the weapon over. She looked back at him with a puzzled frown, still wincing as she moved.
“Yeah. If we live, I’ll be sure to return it soaked in sailor guts and blood. Next of kin is going to cherish that,” she retorted rolling her eyes.
The marines pulled back the last reinforcement against the cabin door and Will moved to open it. Both marines stood shoulder to shoulder, muskets at ready with stained bayonets attached. Will grasped onto the latch and prepared to open the door into chaos when a jarring impact rocked the ship. Everyone in the cabin lost their footing and one of the marines discharged his musket into the ceiling of the cabin. Will slammed into the bulkhead where his arm had been grazed, firing a bolt of pain down his arm and into his fingertips. Struggling to his feet he didn’t even give a glance over his shoulder as he threw open the cabin door and stepped out onto the deck.
Shelton and the marines above on the aft castle let another volley of shots fly into a gaggle of sailors as they struggled to their feet on deck. The helm stood between him and a retreating mass of sailors and Will could see masts from the vessel that had collided into the warship, throwing everyone violently to the deck boards. A lantern hanging from the main mast had been knocked to the deck, spewing oil and flame into a race across its wooden surface. The flames threw up a bright orange partition separating him from the mutineers and casting a ghostly glow against the fluttering slack sails of the assaulting vessel off the bow. Shots and screams carried back from the ensuing fight against the boarding pirates. It was as if hell opened its gates and sent a band of demons to
