The Pirate's Debt by Katherine Bone

Author:Katherine Bone [Bone, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-09-12T18:30:00+00:00

TEN

CARNAGE must be stopped! Lady O assures these offices that CAPTAIN WALSINGHAM of the WINDRAKER, the EXCISE BOARD’s famed pirate HUNTER, is just the PREVENTATIVE man to save the day.

~ Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post, 6 August 1809

The Fury’s halyard blocks protested against the wind, creaking, groaning, as Markwick sailed to Walsingham’s defense. The wind gripped her rigging, straining black sails towering above them and giving the ship life. Urgency filled Markwick as the ship beneath his feet plowed into swells and thundered through, risking everything to save one enemy and pound their common enemy into Davy Jones’s Locker, ridding the world of one less devil.

Conceived out of Blackmoor’s quest for vengeance, the Fury had been built out of oak and teak, her naval architect utilizing prolific nuances that could only be found in its sister ships—Priory, Creed, Prophet, Abbott, and Black Belle. The latter of which had been stolen by Lady Adele Seaton on a successful mission to save her brother at Abbydon Cove, making Markwick’s pride in the Fury profoundly satisfying.

He raised his spyglass, concern and desperation ratcheting his nerves. No doubt Walsingham had been hunting the Viper before and leaped at this opportunity to strike the ship when it had sailed into his path. From Markwick’s position at the bow, he adjusted the telescope to assess the damage to both ships. Orange sparks flared, then ignited from the Viper’s gundeck, flashing angry fire, followed by an ear-shattering roar. Gray smoke plumed up the Viper’s sheets, engulfing the ship and her active crew, masking the yellowish tinge of the setting sun that was reflecting off her white canvas as, one by one, her guns breeched again and fired in rapid succession.

The Windraker’s vulnerable mainmast snapped in half. Her lifeless canvas billowed, luffing in the wind and then collapsed in explosive, splintering shards spraying outward and down. It was a deadly rain meant to disable a ship and cut down anyone on the quarterdeck unless nets had been put into place to protect the crew manning the carronades.

Markwick lowered his spyglass and glanced skyward, assessing his own racing ship, her sails, and the wind, calculating how long it would take the Fury to join the fracas. The distance—two nautical miles, or half a league—could be covered within twenty minutes. He’d have to put the Viper out of commission before that, though.

Smoke plumed again as another crippling cannon blast clouded the Windraker’s deck, and several more rounds from the Viper’s smaller carronades missed, jettisoning a geyser of water over the Windraker’s rails.

“Man the braces!” he shouted. There was no time to lose.

“Aye, sir,” Quinn quickly responded from his side, turning to pass the order along to the boatswain. “Man the braces!”

The blocks creaked in protest as the extra sails were rapidly and rhythmically trimmed. More speed would be needed to make better use of his short-range firepower while defending the Windraker’s vulnerable side.

Walsingham’s ship took another hit. She listed to starboard and then automatically regained her sea legs like a bobbing buoy.

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