H.M.S Valor Read online

  “He’s saying, we need to shove off some of the ballast below decks to make better speed, Yankee. Except he’s a damned Scot, so he talks like his arse is on fire and his tongue is swollen. Do you want us to?” the sailor spat.

  “Do we need the ballast? Is this something we will all be regretting later?” Tim inquired with a thoughtful glare.

  “No, she’ll handle differently, sure, but we can make do. Even if the weather kicks up, we’d be doing well to have a touch more freeboard, Sir,” the reply came back in the sailor’s gravelly rasp of voice. Tim thought for a second how wretched these sailors all seemed and yet were so competent at their craft.

  “Yes. Let’s be rid of what we can. Make all haste to catch that ship. I’d like to be walking over the corpses of her crew by nightfall.” Tim drawled out.

  “We’ll have it done then. Sir.”

  The wrecked cannon hulks that had been secured in the hold as ballast crashed into the water as they were dropped overboard. One by one they were sent hurtling towards the bottom with a loud clap against the waters’ surface and an explosion of bubbles trailing upward as heavy barrels disappeared from view. Almost instantly, as the last of the damaged cannons left the ship, Tim could feel their added speed. The petty officer he hadn’t been able to understand barked some garbled order aloft and sails were quickly adjusted adding even more speed to their pursuit. Soon the black banner waving behind the fleeing ship ahead was close enough that Tim could stand on the bow and make out it’s details clearly through a sight glass. The satanic looking skull seemed a typical fare for pirate crews along with a canted trident, yet another staple symbol of nautical marauders. But the object on the banner that vexed him played across the bottom of the black field. A chain, broken in the middle directly beneath the leering hollow eyed skull. Tim pulled his eye away from the glass and pondered a moment over the symbolism on the black flag. A broken chain, it could be anything, he supposed silently, but a pirate crew that displayed it on their flag while at the same time that he had lost two shipments of slaves bound for America? Could it be that this entire time he had mistaken the effort of these pirates for a betrayal by the Governor and his Admiral? He picked over events in his mind, deciding if that were the case it was far too late now to reverse course. He couldn’t take back the ball he had shot into the Admiral’s chest nor raise the ships he and his men had sunk in harbor. But a lingering feeling began to overcome him. The feeling someone gets when they discover they have made an egregious error and it’s about to be unveiled to the light of day.

  Tim’s face flushed and his heartbeat quickened as he looked again through the glass, studying the ship they were drawing rapidly closer toward. The Valor was almost near enough that he could make out the form of individuals on the pirate’s deck. He scanned their rigging through the flapping of the massive black flag, he could make out forms aloft, climbing ratlines and scurrying along the spars. Their shirts were what stood out, dirty and stained white cloth, the rest of their form was still too vague to glean any detail from at their distance. He angled the glass back down to the stern and as the pirates altered their course slightly the billowing black cloth revealed a split-second glimpse of the quarter deck. Tim’s hands seemed frozen and his heart skipped, the breath he had been about to expel stuck in his throat almost choking him. In the void behind that infernal black flag he had spotted two blue navy coats and three spots of red that could only be royal marines. He recoiled the glass from his eye almost involuntarily and slammed a closed fist onto the wooden rail of the bulwark. His jaw clenched and he felt his teeth gritting from tension and strain. Above, the rope that still suspended Cobb over the bow decks creaked like a mocking raven offering its morbid note. Tim shot a seething glance to the dangling dead man as if Cobb had created this web of failure.

  Tim stormed back toward the sailors on the quarterdeck in furious purpose.

  “When can we begin firing on them?” he demanded with impatient fervor. The sailors exchanged glances and carried on while a petty officer took a step over to the irate American.

  “We’re still out of range. It’d be wasted shot and powder to fire on them now. On toward afternoon we might be close enough. But firing the chasers won’t likely do us much good, we’d have to get an angle and aim for her rudder or the aft mast. I’ve seen it done, but that’s master gunnery, not likely,” came the sobering reply.

  “As soon as we can levy effective fire on them, do it. I won’t relent until we have what is ours.” Tim said dryly.

  “We’ll be approaching the coastline soon, judging by their course. Haiti. We’d best stay well clear of French waters,” cautioned the man.

  “I care not for your concerns, continue the pursuit, whatever we encounter. I trust you men are capable to deal with any manner of complications.” Tim retorted, unflinching. The sailor hesitated a moment, then gave a nod and continued to his work. Tim’s jaw clenched again, grinding his teeth as he tried to formulate a plan should sailors aboard the Valor be confront with the sight of their countrymen aboard the pirate vessel. His schemes would unravel in his face, again. He doubted, if the truth behind his haphazard web of schemes and lies were revealed, that even the promise of gold would placate the crew. If the true nature of Admiral Sharpe’s demise was revealed, Tim knew, he would suffer a fate much worse than Mr. Cobb. Somehow, if he managed to survive his current predicament, he still had to face his failures with the Order. Suddenly, swinging from a rope off the foremast seemed a tolerable end.

  A single shot pierced the midday calm, with a puff of smoke rising up from the Pirate ship’s stern. Tim heard a whining shriek and saw a geyser of seawater spray high into the air where the ball impacted. The Valor still lay outside of their range, Tim understood that much at least, but the pirates were sending him a message. Things were going to get precarious and soon, the coast of Haiti was now in view along the eastern horizon and shortly after passing the south western tip of the island, the pirate ship edged their bow over to a northeasterly heading. By evening they would be well into the gulf created by the southern and northern fingers of Haiti’s west coast, and the sailors aboard the Valor assured him, the pirates would have no escape. They kept the Valor’s course just west of the pirates and continued their distant pursuit, just out of cannon range.

  Drowned Maiden

  28 Sept 1808

  19 Degrees 34 minutes N, 73 Degrees 4’ W

  Late afternoon whipped the warm southern wind across the Maiden’s deck, filling her sails and the hearts of her crew. If these winds held, Lilith would be able to execute her plan just as she had imagined it and her heightened spirit was felt by all on deck. Chibs’ gait seemed to liven as the coast came into sight, a mix of rocky outcroppings and low-lying sandy beaches. The bottom rose up to greet them like a long-forgotten friend as they made their way into the broad gulf off the western end of Haiti, fading the darker shades in the water to a brilliant blue just deeper than the sky. Lieutenant Pike and a couple of his marines had set up one of the twelve-pound cannons on the Maiden’s stern and were periodically letting fly one of the deadly projectiles to warn off the pursuing Valor. The acrid powder smoke floated over the stern after each round before catching in the wind and dancing all along the deck before dissipating into nothingness.

  The low beaches and rocky shores of Haiti rose up as the afternoon sun wore low, peaking in high rock faced cliffs that lorded over the sea edge, painted in subdued hues of the sunset shining on them. Lilith checked the rigging and the helm, making certain everything was in order. She rigged a red sash around her waist, which was now holding a cutlass, a smaller rapier and two loaded flintlock pistols. Lilith could feel the rising tension throughout the crew as they drew nearer to the mouth of the hidden cove. Her plan demanded a perfectly executed turn and masterful timing, but if they could pull it off their pursuers would have no chance to counter before their situation spiraled out of control.

  Lieutenant William descended from the steps of the aft castle
to where she stood near the helm, an expression of concern riddling his features.

  “It won’t be much longer Captain Lilith, once the light of day fades, they will make their move despite our gunnery work. If you have a plan, the sooner the better, as they say,” he relayed his warning cautiously.

  “Aye. I have a plan Lieutenant, but the more I think it through, the more I’ve realized I’m going to need your help,” she said removing the air of distrust her heart had harbored.

  “How can we be of service?” Will replied.

  “That ship was in your command, correct?” she asked, giving him a glance from the side of her eyes.

  “It was. She is crewed by mutineers now, men I wouldn’t dare to count on.” Will said with an edge of disappointment in his voice, “I would not rely on using me to parlay any truce with them, miss.”

  “I am not interested in any truce; I intend to give no quarter to the souls aboard. My interest is solely in your desire to see their end. Are you capable of killing the men you served with Lieutenant? Would that stain be more than your precious honor could bear?” her voice rose slightly as she laid out her concern, demanding an answer.

  “I see it not as a treachery, Captain. Her crew mutinied against their lawful commander, that was treachery. Her King has bypassed the will of his people to continue inflicting harmful practice against humanity, that is treachery. Sending her to the bottom with every hand on board would not be a treachery in my eyes, for what that is worth, it will be a triumph of good over evil.” Will replied in his even tone and then repeated his offer, “How can we be of service, to further your plan Captain?”

  “I need your gunnery skills Lieutenant. When the time comes, I need accurate fire, one gun at a time if need be. But we must absolutely score hits with every shot.” Lilith implored.

  “Gunnery I can do for you Captain. But if she draws near enough to board us Lilith, I fear we are too few to hold our own. If we’re boarded, we will lose the ship along with our lives.” Will said, his face a model of concern.

  “Leave the finer points to me Lieutenant. Just have those guns ready to fire and make certain they strike true.” Lilith said over her shoulder while she shuffled down the stairs onto the weather deck.

  The mouth of the cove was coming into range and her timing couldn’t have been better. The setting sun lit the back of Maiden’s sails with a vibrant array of orange and pink. Untrained eyes would focus on her deck and on her sails for telltale signs of what she intended to do next and when she executed her intended maneuver, even old sea hands were likely to miss what Lilith truly had in store for them.

  “Full canvas on the jibs, brace the fore yard and ready cables!” Lilith called out to the hands on deck. She leaned over the larboard rail keeping a keen eye to the water’s surface. The detail she awaited would only offer her a split second to react and any hesitation would spell certain disaster for the ship, only to be compounded by the rapidly approaching enemy. Trina repeated her command and through the rigging the song of different accents reverberating the echoed orders lasted near a minute. Lilith loved it, she loved the business of running the ship and she was about to flex her newfound power as hard as she could.

  The moment approached and Lilith saw exactly what she was looking for, a blurry white blotch under the surface of the seas adjacent to the cove opening. She paused for a heartbeat, waiting for the exact moment. Trina was aloft sitting along the far larboard end of the topsail spar up the foremast.

  “Lilith!” Trina cried in a pleading shout.

  “All hands hard to larboard! Take in gallants and tops and stand by to man the guns!” Lilith screamed.

  The Maiden lurched hard, pitching over with the force of her turn, the steep angle of her decks made walking difficult. Then as the bow swung over to face the mouth of the cove her deck leveled again, bobbing up and down slightly from the force on her sails but trim and steady. In a tense moment every hand aboard glanced back at their pursuers, under full sail and lurching toward them in a rage. Lilith examined their stern and could barely make out through the brilliant light of the setting sun in the background, the dangling body of a man hung by the neck off her foremast. The Maiden nosed into the shadows cast by the rock face guarding their cove entrance. To our pursuers, Lilith bemused to herself, it must look like we’ve disappeared into the sheer cliffs themselves.

  When the last edge of dusk had slipped from the Drowned Maiden’s stern and she made her way into the deeper body of the cove Lilith was struck by a memory, just weeks ago she had looked along the towering cliffs as a fresh face on Maiden’s decks. The way the bluffs faded from the guarding towers toward the sea down to a gentle slope, covered in grasses and overhung with a lush canopy of rain forest. She thought of James and the night he had spent teaching her the names of pictures in the stars, how his gentle manner had contrasted to violence he displayed just earlier that day.

  “Captain!” Chibs’ cry slapped her back to the present, “Now or never girl!”

  They had sailed into the deeper part of the cove, aligning with the small opening behind them. The time had come for Lilith to finish setting her trap, the most audacious part of her plan.

  “Helm, hard starboard,” she shouted to Omibwe, snapping him back into action. “Ready the fore anchor and stand by at the cable!”

  Crew scrambled as the Maiden made another hard, lurching turn, wheeling to face their battery at the mouth of the cove. “Anchor away! Loose all tacks and sheets, brace for impact!” Lilith screamed. The anchor slapped into the water, barreling through twenty fathoms of water in seconds. The Maiden reeled hard, pitching to her side again while crewmen held on for dear life to the rail. “Cut it away now!” Lilith cried, fearing her tactic was going to tip the vessel on its side with the violent force. A hand had stood ready for the order and with a ferocious swing of an ax, he cut away the anchor cable which recoiled into the water like a whip from tension. The Maiden settled back to trim relieving Lilith’s acute fear of tipping, but there was no time to celebrate. As she looked out over the starboard rail, the Valor’s bowsprit was edging its way into view at the mouth of the cove.

  “A little farther lads, then you can turn right in.” She uttered aloud, then turning to the open hatch leading below, “Lieutenant! Run them out!”

  “Aye Captain!” Will shouted back before scrambling out of sight on the gun deck. In seconds, Lilith could hear the gun ports clanking open, one by one and then starting back at the rear cannon, creaking ropes and wheels as the men below ran them out. Her attention shifted back to the mouth of the cove, where the bow was now visible as the Valor made her turn inward. A tense moment passed, Lilith could feel her pulse echoing through her entire body, soaking her muscles with adrenaline and sharpening her state of alertness. Then, just as Lilith’s mind began to think it would not come, a sickening growl reverberated through the cove. The sound of wooden planks being ripped asunder into the belly of the Valor by that threatening coral formation James had warned her of all those weeks ago.

  The Valor shuddered under the impact, sending hands aloft hurtling from their perch down onto the hard-wooden deck, their sickening screams ending with an unceremonious hollow wooden thump. Crashing timbers and snapping lines sounded into the cove while the Valor heaved from the force of her sails against the hull crushing itself into the coral formation. Panicked screams floated over the gentle ripple of the cove to the waiting ears of Lilith’s crew. A broad smile drew across her face, her eyes lighting up like burning embers from the inferno of tension and anxiety that had plagued the last days. Her heart soared as the crew let out loud cheers, almost drowning her shouts down into the gun deck.

  “Now Lieutenant! Fire at will!” her cry pierced down into the gun deck, ushering a moment of silence. A heartbeat elapsed and the first cannon fired, roaring it’s thunderclap through the cove and eliciting another round of raucous cheers and shouting from the Maiden’s crew. The impact slapped into the hull of the Valor sending jagged shards o
f wood careening across her bow, devouring flesh and sail alike. Another roaring report sent a cloud of smoke up from the Maiden’s gun line, obscuring Lilith’s view of the carnage they were inflicting for a brief moment. The second hit scoured part of the Valor’s bow rail and penetrated into her foremast, sending another volley of wooden shrapnel flying about on deck to deadly effect. When Will fired the third and fourth cannons, Lilith began to see men abandoning the Valor in desperate attempts at self-preservation as their ship was being ripped apart from coral below and pummeled by iron shot above. When the first full volley of ten guns was complete, flames could be seen on the Valor’s decks, creeping along freshly cracked and severed deck timbers deploying a wispy blanket of smoke of the horror scene.

  “One volley will do for now Lieutenant. Load them and stand by. Well done.” Lilith said, looking down onto the smoke-stained face of Lieutenant Pike who appeared to be taking no joy in the victory. “You have served the Maiden exactly as you pledged to. Once I’ve made certain their crew has all perished, you will be released from my service.” The officer’s expression remained unchanged and Lilith felt an annoying tug in her spirit telling her she was not done with the Lieutenant for his part. Her unease faded as she turned to an ecstatic Trina and Chibs greeting her in celebration. Trina grabbed her into a hug, kissing her forehead while heaping praise onto her. Another round of cheers sounded high up into Maiden’s rigging while flames from the Valor brightly flared against the fading dusk as one of her sails began to be consumed.