He gave no reply, simply cupped his hands and issued more orders that sent some men into the shrouds and others dashing across deck.
“Even if you are able to sink them, won’t your precious Ring also go down to the depths?”
“I won’t allow that to happen.”
“Your hubris will be your death.” Emeline planted hands at her waist. “And all of your crew along with you.”
The brig bucked over a wave, and she stumbled backward.
Grabbing her arm, Blake steadied her. A glimpse of sorrow crossed his eyes before they glazed over again with the heat of battle. “Get below at once.” His tone brooked no argument nor further discussion.
Emeline retreated. Stubborn fool.Lord, what do I do? Descending the ladder, she inched to stand against the quarterdeck, awaiting her fate and the fate of all aboard.
b
“What’s all tha’ about a Ring, Cap’n?” Rummy chirped from the wheel.
“None of your concern,” Blake retorted, grimacing. The lady had a point—a valid point. Under normal circumstances, Blake had no doubt he could defeat the slower Italian frigate. But with the Ring? Would Jo or Della Morte know how to use it? Would the Ring obey such evil people? He laughed at his own question. It had obeyed him, had it not? Still, he had no choice. Fight or die. He only regretted that he hadn’t gotten Emeline to safety beforehand.
Finn leapt up the stairs and halted by his side.
“I know what you’re going to say, Finn. Stubble it. Aye, they have the Ring.”
“Aye, Cap’n. We’ve seen what it does, is all.”
“We don’t know if it will work for them, and if not, we can easily defeat them.” Shoving down his mistrust of the man—temporarily—he gave him a look of confidence. “Prove your loyalty, Finn. Help me lead this crew into battle and win!”
A brief gleam of joy appeared in the man’s eyes before he stuffed his pipe in his mouth and sped off.
Positioning the scope to his eye once again, Blake grimaced at the oncoming ship. Even should he wish to make a run for it, he could not avoid a battle now. The real problem lay in how to cripple them enough to surrender so he could board and take the Ring. By all accounts, ’twas a suicide mission, and many would die this day.
Descending the ladder, Blake stormed across the main deck. “All hands on deck! Helm, hard a-port! Up tops and gallants!” At least he could gain the weather edge, which would grant him some advantage.
Layton bellowed further orders, sending topmen leaping into the ratlines and racing up shrouds.
“Stations for stays! Bring her about. Helms a lee!” Layton continued, and within minutes, theSummonstacked about, wood groaning and blocks creaking. The deck canted to port. The crew held on as the mad rush of the sea reached for the railing.
Boom!
The air quivered with the thunder of a gun. “All hands down!” Blake shouted as he crouched by the mainmast. The shot plunged into the sea, mere yards off their starboard side. Not a warning shot. Nay, they wanted him sunk and dead. Rising, he marched across the deck. “Brace up the weather yards! Shorten to battle sail!” Then turning to his new bosun, he commanded, “Bring us to windward of them, if you please, Layton.”
It was then that Blake spotted Emeline, backed against the quarterdeck, eyes alert, jaw stiff with determination.Hang it. ’Twas safer below, but the woman was as stubborn as a pirate who smelled gold.
Ignoring her, he advanced to the starboard railing, grabbed the ratlines, and leapt upon the bulwarks. Wind, as hot and fierce as the blood coursing through his veins, raced over him, flapping his shirt and thundering in his ears. How he loved the fight, the battle. He’d become more than an expert, had brought his crew and himself a fortune beyond compare. But the fortune he sought inthisconquest was far more valuable.
The foam-capped turbulent sea spread out before him, sunlight glinting off waves. Yet theGuerrieri Della Crocecontinued closing the distance between them. In minutes, their shot would no longer miss. But neither would Blake’s.
“Ready the broadside!” he shouted to Charlie. TheSummonswas coming up on the weather gauge.
That Della Morte would allow Blake to do so spoke to his inexperience in sea battles. Of course, the man bragged of being more priest than pirate. No doubt ’twas his faith in the power of the Ring that drove him onward.
Ten portholes flung open on theGuerrieri Della Croce’sport side, and the dark muzzles of ten guns poked through. Twenty-pounders from the look of them. They would do much more damage to theSummonsthan Blake’s nine-pounders would do to their ship.
Turning, Blake cupped his hands and shouted over the wind, “Bear off! Haul your braces, ease sheets, starboard guns standby…fire as you bear!” He gazed up at Rummy. “Be ready for a sharp veer to starboard.”
With a roar and belch of flame and smoke, theSummons’ guns spoke, sending a shudder through the ship. The wind quickly swept away the stinging haze just in time to see flames shoot from theGuerrieri Della Croce’sten guns.
“Helm’s alee!” Blake ordered the quick tack, which hopefully would present a smaller target for the incoming shots. He dashed to cover Emeline with his body.
