They repaired to the deck of theSea Scorpion. “The French are releasing their warships,” warned the English Admiral.
“Run up the royal colors.” Devon shouted and with his good arm used his scope to ascertain the damage done to the French Navy. Claire stood beside him. Clouds of smoke and darkness impaired her view. With the first few streaks of dawn, she strained through the haze.
“Bloodsmythe has done a fine job leveling the town and two of the five ships,” Devon assessed their condition. “But we’ve three warships, fully masted and coming down fast.”
“Dooley,” Devon yelled over to theGolden Gull. “Hold that old sea bitch steady then ram her into her broadsides. Keep your head about and remember to keep the cannons blazing, set her afire then jump.”
“Aye Captain. We’re ready and waitin’”
The first ship approached and Dooley, a true man of the sea let loose theGolden Gull. From her sides, cannons blasted at the French Man-O’-War. Claire counted the seconds. The French ship returned a full blast of her guns onto the helpless merchantman. Billowing clouds of smoke to larboard blotted out everything. Claire choked. The caustic odor caught in her throat set her to gasping and coughing. Devon’s men toppled to the decks of theGolden Gullbut held firm the full sails. Claire saw Dooley pitch a torch. Suddenly the wholeGolden Gullblazed with fire, fast proceeding on its course to the heart of the French ship. Devon’s men dove overboard.
The corpulent French Admiral stood arrogantly on his foredeck. His outrage transformed to shock. He had miscalculated his enemy. His jaw worked up and down with his impending doom. The shattering and explosion of theGolden Gullinto the French warship rocked the waters. Men on theSea Scorpioncheered with the direct hit.
“Fetch Dooley and his men from the sea. Don’t get overconfident boys,” shouted Devon. “We’ve two more ships that plague us.” He turned to the two gentlemen next to Claire.
“Lord Sunderland, Admiral Norreys,” Devon addressed them. “I had hoped Wolf would have returned with the Royal Navy.”
Claire stood shocked. Lord Sunderland was a peer of the realm, a very important peer. Had Devon kidnapped an English Lord and an English Admiral? She didn't even want to contemplate it, yet they seemed on familiar terms. But how? Numerous English sailors worked side by side with her husband's crew. The abduction would not matter. The odds of surviving the menacing French Man-O'-War were nil.
Devon stopped beside her and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Don’t fear, my love.”
“I’m not afraid. But I worry of your injury.”
He kissed her forehead again before leaving her and shouting to his men. “Make all sail! Dress her in every rag she’ll carry. Top-men aloft. Man the tops’l sheets and halyards. Lay out. Loose. Let fall. Sheet home.” Devon ordered theSea Scorpionto full sail.
Lord Sunderland said to Devon, “Whatever results of this day, I am proud to be a part of it.” He turned to Claire and bowed to her. “It is a pleasure, Madame Blackmon to meet you, despite our circumstances.”
No time existed for them to get under way. The French ships breathed hot on their necks.
Suddenly the French ship quaked and pitched to a halt, throwing her crew to the deck. Devon grabbed theglassfrom Ames. “Look there, Lord Sunderland. That cursed storm narrowed the passage. It heaved up sandbars, running them aground on shoals. Our quarry delivered to us by nature. We will oblige them. Young Johnnie, let loose your cannons!”
The deck beneath Claire’s feet thundered with the roar of theSea Scorpion’scannons. Claire shivered. A breeze swept clear the smoke, revealing the burning rubbish heap of the defeated French ship, its lily standard shredded and trailing from its broken mast.
The English Admiral emitted a dry smile “This night’s work beats anything I’ve ever witnessed.”
“It’s not over yet,” said Devon.
Claire followed to where her husband had his eyes trained. Her breath caught in her throat. TheMer Un Serpentemerged from the smoke and gloom, equaling the massive French warship, and with Le Trompeur to guide her, was a heavy match for theSea Scorpion.
“Bear to port. Pull out, but tender the reefs,” Devon ordered. “I predict she’ll not make the same mistake. We’ll lure her out to sea. Now Admiral, you’ll be able to sit on King William’s lap and recite this battle.”
“But you’re going up against a forty-six gun ship.”
“A moot point, Admiral Norreys. When up against overwhelming odds, use your strength’s to exploit your enemy’s weakness.” Devon chuckled, and Claire smiled at those familiar words. “TheSea Scorpionis fast and sleek. Much as I would enjoy further debate on the matter, time passes and I must take my leave.” Danger proved a heady wine for her husband as he moved about his ship with steeled confidence.
With incredible speed, the sails fluttered from the yards. When the sails were hoisted and trimmed, theSea Scorpiontrembled with eagerness.The Mer Un Serpentchased in their wake. Far out to sea, beyond the hazard of shoals and reefs, Devon ordered his men to rein in and slow their progress for Le Trompeur to catch up.
“TheMer Un Serpentlists to port. Her belly full of barnacles makes her slow and wallowing,” and without waiting for Norrey’s approving grunt, he shouted an order. “Helm, hard to starboard!”
His voice rang with authority and purpose as he juggled the demands of bringing a huge ship about. Everything depended on Devon’s timing. Admiral Norreys stared off to port where theMer Un Serpentaltered course to bear aslant their bow. Like a bristling row of teeth, Claire eyed the cannon muzzles thrust through its open ports ready to fire upon them.
She swayed against the bulkhead and held her breath. Le Trompeur shrieked to fire. The blast rocked theSea Scorpion. Claire fell to the deck. A pirate ran past, wild-eyed with fear and excitement, his hair plastered wet to his head. Her pulse roared in her ears. Visions of theSea Scorpionsinking swam before her eyes.
Lord Sunderland pulled her to her feet. “Do not fear, Madam. Your husband knows what he is about.”
Their starboard side came up. TheMer Un Serpentleaned larboard, so heavy with barnacles her portholes were covered. Claire could count the hairs on the French pirates’ chins they were so close. Le Trompeur’s soaring exultation vanished, the look on his face almost comical as he realized his mistake.
“Fire!” commanded Devon. Cannons pounded. A volcano of fire and metal burst upon theMer Un Serpent. Le Trompeur’s command to fire lost on his cruel lips. The French buccaneers mowed down. Fractured masts and rigging fell. Devon ordered his cannons again. Swept by the murderous scythe of a broadside, the mortally impairedMer Un Serpentdrifted.
