Count of Souls (Master of Monsters Book 3) by Stephen L. Hadley

Author:Stephen L. Hadley [Hadley, Stephen L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-21T22:00:00+00:00

***

Leo gripped the rim of the gunwale, eyeing the approaching ships. Though they’d begun as little more than distant specks on the horizon, a few minutes had been all the time required to bring them within striking distance. And, unfortunately, the more Leo saw, the less he liked it. The four vessels sailed in a tight formation, sails tacked to carry them toward a more advantageous angle. Worse still, the four were obviously warships, each a fit match for the Unity in size and sporting a prominent ram.

Alone, Leo might not have considered such things. But thanks to the near-constant cursing of Captain Talbot, he had no choice but to consider them.

“Damn this wind!” Talbot snarled, pacing the width of the quarterdeck like a caged beast. “How the hell are they outrunning us?”

“Their lead ship is coming about, Captain,” announced Lieutenant Hobbes. The man leaned against the starboard gunwale, monocular still glued to one eye. “They’ll reach us before the sloops arrive. Should we turn back and wait for the galleons?”

“No, gods damn them!” Talbot swore, stalking to the starboard end of the quarterdeck. He followed Hobbes’ gaze, then glanced back at the sloops struggling to keep pace with the Unity and her fellow frigates. “Signal the Brilliance and Harpy’s Blood. We’ll change course and meet the bastards head-on. Maybe we can hold out long enough for our reinforcements to quit wiping and get their shit together.”

“Aye, Captain,” Hobbes replied. No sooner had he spoken, however, than he froze and cleared his throat. “Er, Captain? The lead ship is furling her sails. The others are holding steady.”

“What?” Talbot snapped. He seized the glass from his lieutenant’s outstretched hand and peered through it. Then, after a moment, he gave a shaky laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

At last, Leo’s curiosity could no longer be contained. With a steadying gesture to Nyssa, he left his spot on the gunwale and joined the two men.

“They’re not raiders then?” he asked.

Hobbes glanced at him, but Talbot continued watching through the monocular.

“Could be,” the Captain said, after a moment of tense silence. “But they’re definitely frigates. Might be they noticed the rest of the fleet and decided to play it safe.”

Leo said nothing but cast an unthinking glance over his shoulder. Apart from the distant sloops, he couldn’t make out any sign of the rest of the fleet. He knew it was there, of course, but the Unity’s speed so far outstripped that of the galleons that it would be hours before they managed to catch up.

“So what now?” he asked.

Nodding to himself, Talbot straightened and handed his borrowed monocular back to Hobbes. “Shorten sail,” he ordered. “Signal the others to do the same. Then make certain Summers and Cleland are ready. If this is a trap, I want it to be ours.”

Leo waited for the lieutenant to acknowledge his orders and depart, then inched forward to occupy the spot the man once had.

“What about me?” he asked.

Talbot glanced at him. “Just stick close to me, Admiral,” he said.

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