H.M.S Valor Read online

  “Why would Lieutenant Pike join in with pirates?” a sailor in the crowd shouted over, red faced and visibly irate. “I manned helm on his watch, and I was there next to him when it was pirates that fired on us! It’s hog spit, it makes no sense. But what I have seen, Cobb, is I have seen this bastard push three men who were trying to rescue him back into a feeding frenzy in the water! I say we toss his arse over and watch while they rip him to ribbons!” Several shouts of agreement rose from the crowd that was now encroaching on Tim’s position on deck. Cobb shifted his gaze back to the pitiful looking American who had fallen to his knees.

  “There is gold at stake here. The payment from the Company is a massive amount, all the profits from India and the Caribbean over the course of the last year. The Admiral’s treasons were an attempt to seize that payment. They are pilfering riches from the East India Company,” Tim pleaded, hoping the mention of gold would pique their interests. Cobb smiled broadly as a fortunate coincidence hit his mind.

  “Who here remembers the flag signal we flew before the pirates fired on us?” Cobb shouted over the crew.

  “Captain Grimes inquired the Admiral for tea,” a sailor called back in reply. “Could he have been alluding to the East India ships?” Faces in the crowd of sailors suddenly shifted expression, trading knowing looks and shrugged shoulders. Cobb could see them drawing the conclusion he had aimed them toward.

  “Snap to on deck,” Cobb barked, “Ready on the main! I want full sail and taut sheets; we have a ship of traitors to hunt down!”

  Chapter 12

  H.M.S Endurance

  26 Sept 1808

  17 Degrees 32 minutes N, 76 Degrees 12’ W

  The incessant pounding and hacking at the barricaded doors of the aft castle cabin had gone on for hours. Near midnight, Lieutenant Shelton had come up with the idea for a sortie to buy time if not retake some of the ship. He and several of the marines who had taken refuge inside the cabin would climb out the fantail windows and up onto the stern, from there they would counter the assault and attempt to regain control of the helm. Will sat on a wooden bench rubbing his temples while Shelton spelled out his intent. He looked down where the unconscious woman lay on the deck and considered how much of their predicament could be accounted to his decision to aid her.

  “It is our best chance, Sir. If we sit in here and cower among ourselves, eventually they will break down the door, barricade be damned. We cannot hold out forever.” Shelton pleaded.

  “Neither can they, with another ship approaching, their attention will have to avert to that and soon.” Will countered.

  “And if they are pirates? Or suppose she is a French privateer. Are we really considering another ship for our salvation? Sir?” Shelton pressed, his tone was plagued by the frustration of their predicament and becoming more challenging by the minute.

  “It won’t solve all of our problems. Only give them more to contend with. Damn it! This confounded crew of greedy bastards why am I so cursed?” Will shouted, kicking over a stool near his leg. “Grimes would know the answer, but better yet, Grimes wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. I’ve failed my commission, failed the Navy, the crew. I’ve failed. The board was right, I’m not ready for command of my own.”

  “You’ve only failed us Sir, if you surrender to it. So long as there is fight left in those of us with you Will, don’t give up hope.” Shelton replied with a hopeful look. Will’s shoulders sagged for a moment, feeling the weight of every eye in the room falling on him at once. He shifted his gaze back to the woman on the deck and caught her stirring. She lifted an eyelid and pressed her arm outward against the deck, rolling herself to one side with a painful groan.

  “She lives!” a marine uttered.

  “Aye get water lad. Shelton, get these men ready. You’re going to carry out your assault plan, but I want you to time it with the arrival of that approaching vessel.” Will said, fighting the nagging doubt in back of his thoughts.

  “Yes Sir. Let me have a look and see if I can spot her again,” he replied with a renewed vigor as he paced back to the fantail windows.

  Will knelt next to the stirring woman, seeing her confusion and shock to be in a large stateroom.

  “Who are you? Where are we?” her question rasped in a near whisper.

  “We are aboard the H.M.S Endurance miss, the Navy vessel that sank your own. I found you in the debris field and we fished you aboard.” Will answered in a flat tone but not unkind.

  “Why? Why rescue me just to hang me? You should have saved your efforts and let the sea take me,” she hissed in her rasp.

  “I’ll not presume the King’s justice, nor will I stay it. You may hang woman, but not now. I found you alive and I am honor bound to aid any soul at sea in need. Gallows bound or not.” Will answered through a fresh battery of pounding at the door. “In any case, I may have pulled you from the frying pan and into the fire. Those are the sounds of a mutiny in progress and all the while we are being approached by another ship.”

  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?”
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  “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 torment the mutineers. A man who had been near the hanging lantern had caught fire from waist to shoulder and ran screaming for the rail as Will emerged from the cabin. Thrashing his arms in a wild attempt to escape the blaze, Will watched as his screams escalated from shock to fear, then panic and agony. The sailor ran headlong into the rail, tipping over the side in a flailing tumble to the water where he landed with an unceremonious splash.

  Swords clashing together mixed with gunfire penetrated through the growing flames on deck singing a symphony of chaos to the onlooking officers and marines. They stood near the helm, shielding their eyes from the growing heat as fire engulfed the deck and began climbing the mast.

  “The ship is lost.” Will shouted over the roar of noise, “Make for the longboats, abandon ship.”

  “But Sir!” Lieutenant Shelton began to object.

  “Now lad. I’ll not waste another soul to this struggle; the ship is lost. We couldn’t hope to sail her now even if we had the manpower. There’s no time to quibble.” Will said as the smoke rolled over the decks, they stood on engulfing them into the deathly orange glow that promised to soon devour the Endurance. They quickly made their way to the longboat Will had taken on sortie the previous afternoon, waiting for them in suspension over the water.

  “Someone is going to have to stay aboard and lower it down, likely two with all our weight.” Shelton said while he climbed into the small boat.

  “I’ll stay Sir,” a marine offered through stone expression. Will felt his heart leap, after all he had been through, the utter selfishness and treachery he’d witnessed in the last few months, the man before him redeemed his faith in honor. Valor is not dead, Will thought as his eyes darted over the decks, looking for another solution.

  “Unacceptable marine. That won’t do.” Will uttered.

  “Sir?” his confused reply was lost on the Lieutenant.

  “Shelton, get out.” Will snapped. Lieutenant Shelton shot a bewildered look back and climbed from the longboat in haste. Will swung his cutlass into the aft rope, severing stands with each swing until the line snapped dropping the longboat to swing from the bow line. Wasting no time as the flames grew drawing nearer with each heartbeat, Will ran along the rail with reckless abandon swinging his saber into the bowline with every bit of force he could muster. With a single blow the line parted in a violent snap dropping the longboat into a free fall to the sea. “Follow Me!” Will screamed over his shoulder as he jumped from the rail, his limbs flailed wild as he slashed into the inky dark sea.

  Drowned Maiden

  26 Sept 1808

  17 Degrees 32 minutes N, 76 Degrees 12’ W

  Lilith clung for her life to the rope webbing, watching in in sheer horror as a silhouette appeared along the rail above. For a moment that shadow was the reaper signaling her sure death as an arm extended with a pistol in its clasp. She grimaced against the hot bolt of pain she knew was coming and pressed herself as hard as she could to the wooden surface of the hull. A thunderclap reverberated through the thick night between ships and Lilith squeezed her hands harder onto the rope, drawing an ooze of blood from where her grip had been bitten by the course line. For a moment she shuddered, waiting for the searing pain to register. She could feel the shadow above wobble from the rail and felt the air flutter as her would be reaper dropped through swirling smoke and screams into the water’s grasp. Lilith looked over her shoulder, half in panic and half in delight to see the stern face of Omibwe behind a smoking musket barrel. His precarious balance did nothing to slow him rapidly handing off the spent musket to the waiting hands of Doctor Lemeux at his side. The French Doctor reloaded as best he could to keep up with the fury of Omibwe who leveled accurate fire as quickly as he was handed a ready piece.

  Hand over hand, Lilith resumed her climb toward the deck as the smoke and noise from above intensified. Finally reaching the rail with her forearms groaning in a dull ache of exertion, she peered through a scupper to witness fury and chaos aboard. Captain James had been among the first to set foot aboard and was engaging a group of several sailors by wielding a sword in each hand. Behind him a pair of pirates let fly with pistol shot and took up swords from the fallen on deck. When Lilith’s bare foot made fall onto the deck of the big warship, it was already slick with blood. She looked about frantically for any sign of Trina, but with no success.

  A sailor ran toward Lilith from her right side screaming as he swung a tomahawk in a sharp downward arc. She drew her sword and made a lunging dive onto the deck, causing the swing to slice harmlessly through the space she vacated. With her sword in hand Lilith rolled to her feet and turned just in time to parry a following swing from the screaming sailor. The forceful impact almost wrenched her backward but with a flash of speed the sailor could not anticipate she slid her blade out of contact with the tomahawk and plunged it hard into the man’s throat. He dropped to his knees with a pleading look of fear spread across his face as blood surged from the wound in his neck. Lilith grabbed his tomahawk with her free hand and while driving her knee into his chest, freed her blade from its burrow of flesh. A moment later she buried the tomahawk firmly between the shoulder blades of another sailor who lunged at her. In a swift motion she parried his sword and side stepped while swinging the other blade deep into his back, dropping him to the deck in a twisting storm of agony. Lilith made no effort to finish the man and stepped further into the fray.

  Flames clawed along the ship’s middle, climbing her mainmast and dancing along each rail as it spread and cast a stark orange glow through the thickening smoke. Lilith caught a glance of James, a sword in each hand, dealing out pain and death to the ship’s defenders. As bodies collected on deck, both navy men and pirates alike a crescent began to form around James as his deadly blows repeatedly finding their lethal mark began to give pause to the men around him. A flash of fire brightened the smoke hanging above deck as flames found the m
ainsail and Lilith saw a man lunge himself at James from his flank. The pirate captain caught the movement and parried with one sword while simultaneously driving the other right through the sailor’s belly, then with a fluid grace his parry sword assaulted an onlooker within reach in a cross-hand slash finding his throat. James ripped his penetrating sword free just in time to parry another attack. He hammered blows for a moment against two attackers, parrying and swinging, the ringing clash of steel crying up through the dying ship’s rigging.

  Seeing the moment of peril her captain James faced, Lilith raced toward the scene, hacking and thrusting at sailors engaged by pirates every step of the way. She was almost near enough to aid James when he turned a block sideways and was caught by the blade of another on his forearm. He countered with a furious slash landing on his assailant’s elbow and with his wounded arm drove his other blade right through an exposed chest. Lilith looked on as if time slowed while another round of attackers threw in against James. As he recovered from the first attack, he had to parry another advance with his good arm while trying to free his other sword from the clutches of ribcage. The sword was lodged and being unable to free it put a beat in James’ timing. Another sword slash found him on top of his shoulder, he raised his blade to parry a following swing meeting steel but missing the lunge of another at his flank. The sailor who drove a blade into his side was immediately greeted with James’ downward swing burrowing into his forehead from hairline to eyebrow.

  Lilith felt as if she were wading through molasses, unable to stop the events unfolding just out of her reach as James drove his sword down onto a man’s head and collapsed to one knee. She shoved her way through the last few steps separating them and caught a sword just before it completed a downward swing into the back of James’ neck. Her counter slashed across the wielder’s ribs and then plunged into his belly. She withdrew her cutlass and relieved the dying man of his sword with her free hand, raising both blades to ready in a standing vigil as James slumped onto the blood-stained deck.