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“But it was you who cared for me somewhere in those lost days. I can remember soft, gentle hands. It was not unlike Mother’s hands when I was a little boy and got hurt.”

“It was the least I could do for my future brother-in
law,” Deborah replied as she reached down and took Gabe’s offered hand. “Gil loves you so much. He was
worried sick about you, and yet at the same time was filled with pride at your gallant stand. He prayed daily for your recovery. He said his life has been much more complete with you in it. He was afraid he’d lose you before the two of you really were able to share time together.”

Gabe tried to hide the moisture growing in his eyes. “I too am glad to have discovered my brother. He is so much like father.”

Lady Deborah’s face creased into a smile. “It’s funny you should say so, because that’s exactly what your brother said of you.”

Minutes later Dagan stood out from the shadows where he’d been standing, watching and listening. He’d seen the Lady standing by Gabe and pulling his head to her body in a loving, caring manner. Now he felt at peace. “I knew it,” he said to himself as he walked down the hill to fetch a wet. It was in the cards. He’d seen it. But watching the Lady with Gabe validated his speculation. “Boy’s got a family and a future, jes like the cards say.”

A
nthony and Commodore Gardner were seated at a table overlooking a bustling English Harbour.

“Damn’d lucky, I’d say,” the Commodore said for the second or third time. They were enjoying a cool glass of lime juice. Anthony watched as the remaining piece of ice was swirled around in the light green liquid. As Gardner drained the glass, he rattled the ice. It was the last of his stores and the commodore seemed to be extracting as much enjoyment as he could before this last sliver was gone. Anthony had found a particle or two of sawdust in his glass but he didn’t comment on it, not wanting to interrupt his host. After pacing back and forth in front of the big window, he stuck his fingers in the glass, retrieving the ice and popping it in his mouth, filling the room with a loud crunch. Noticing that Anthony was watching, the commodore said, “Not long ago I couldn’t chew ice. A good fellow in the colonies fixed me up with a good pair of choppers and now I can eat what I want. Fellow’s from Virginia and said he’d fixed a set for Colonel George Washington. Now I hear that Washington may lead an army against us.” He paused as he heard a rap on the door.

A midshipman entered. “The carriage is ready, Sir.”

“Very good. Gil, let’s be off to see that damn slaver. He was lucky, I tell you. Gabe was just damn lucky,” the commodore said again, his mind fixed on Gabe’s heroics and wounds.

Lieutenant Pope had been right. The captured vessel had been a slaver in its day. He showed Anthony and Commodore Gardner the ring bolts and chains which

were still in place. “I think Bart might have been right when he said ‘probably left to hold hostages.’” Gardner nodded but replied, “As far as we know, there’s been no request for ransom as yet.”

Anthony agreed but added, “Maybe they’ve not

captured the right person so far. Could be they’re

waiting for some big political capture or even a high

ranking officer.”

“Hopefully someone above commodore rank,”

Gardner added, to which Pope and Anthony had a

good laugh.

The slaver was a nimble vessel. She had proved that

when she had come about quick as you please and

poured a broadside into
Shark.

“She’s a barque. With her sleek lines and finely

raked mast I’d say there was a fair amount of American

influence involved in her construction, if not American

built. She was certainly built as a slaver, otherwise her

hull would have been built wider to carry more cargo

like the British barques
we’re used to. She’s also got a

fair amount of armament,” Buck said, joining in the

conversation. “Do you think she got those off of

captured English ships?”

“I’m not sure,” Pope answered. “But they would

have slowed her down too much when she was being

used as a slaver. They were probably added when she

turned pirate.”

“It’s hard to believe there’d be that much more

profit in piracy than in slavery,” Anthony commented.

“Well sir, only the survivors share the plunder in

piracy,” Pope stated.

Commodore Gardner had long since placed a

handkerchief over his nose. “My God! How’d any of

them manage to stand the stench?”

Anthony took a step back from Gardner. After his

comment about the smell, Anthony noticed his friend

looked pale and ready to lose his lunch. Pope and Buck

didn’t appear to notice, or chose to ignore Gardner’s

discomfort.

“The scum we captured were no cleaner than slavers. No doubt they were as used to the slaver’s stench as their own filth,” Anthony said.

“Well, filthy or not, they proved hard men. Those sixteen twelve-pounders were well manned,” Pope volunteered.

“Aye,” Buck acknowledged.

Just looking at the
Shark
was proof
of that. “I’d like to take those two long nines. They’re in better shape than our bow chasers,” Buck said, hoping to make a swap for the newer guns.

Anthony nodded, but didn’t say anything. No use to create more paperwork when it wasn’t necessary. It was sometimes easier to ask forgiveness than to obtain permission.

With all the talk about the guns going on, Pope couldn’t help but recall that first onslaught. His body gave an involuntary shudder. “Thank God they were after plunder and not trying to sink us. Otherwise the lot of us would be goners.” Pope had put to words what the others were thinking. “Had they known the size of our crew they would have stood off and pounded us into submission or sunk us. We’re lucky they were boarding before they realized we were more than a coastal trader.”

The battle had become so intense that once the pirates had gotten their blood up they failed to keep a lookout.
Drakkar
and the schooners had arrived before the pirates knew what was happening. One minute they’d all but taken
Shark.
The next they’d been taken.

“The whoresons got what they deserved,” Bart commented for the first time. “I lost a few mates among the jack tars and marines they kilt.”

Many had died and some were still recovering in the hospital. Anthony was actually glad Gabe had talked him into giving Caleb passage. His skill and help with so many wounded had been invaluable. Kramer was as good as any ship’s surgeon, but many would have died waiting on his services had Caleb not been present to help. He’d certainly taken care of Gabe.

As Anthony made his departure with Commodore Gardner, he overheard Dagan making a comment to Bart. “What was that you said?” he asked Dagan.

“I was just commenting on the odd names of the ships we’ve taken, sir. It seems they’ve taken on a gruesome tone, so to speak—like the pirates are trying to create fear in the way they’ve named their ships. We know the big frigate that done for poor Mr. Pitts is
Reaper
. We already took
Rascal
and
Shark.
Now this one is
Scythe.
I can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, an omen, if you will.”

The men working close by had all stopped their work as they heard Dagan’s comments. It suddenly got very quiet and still. Realizing the effect his words were having on the men and officers before him, Dagan changed his tack.
No use scaring the men
, he thought.

“Yes sir, I do believes its an omen alright, but a bad omen for the bloody buggers who sailed those ships, and its prize money for us. Eh mates?”

That set the men back in good spirits, and they gave a hearty cheer. Anthony was glad Dagan had put a spin on his thoughts for the men’s sake, but he agreed. The pirate leader appeared to be doing his best to set an eerie tone to the whole mess. The capture of
Scythe
would certainly add to the men’s already fat purses. He wanted
them to dwell on that, not fear. They had been lucky so far. While this prize would also help Anthony’s purse, what excited him the most was the papers and information they’d discovered. The pirate captain had been so sure of his victory over
Shark
he’d not bothered to take precautions with his papers. Now Anthony had them, and
Scythe
’s former captain was shark bait.

The man had obviously been a good seaman and a fearless fighter, but he didn’t trust his memory. They had found the answer to the rendezvous puzzle. The man had a chart, and in the margins he had written down dates and numbers. On the charts, numbers were written beside corresponding locations. St. John was number five, St. Kitts was number seven, St. Lucia was number nine and so on.

***

Anthony’s dining area was full of tobacco smoke, the faint but distinct odor of alcoholic spirits, and the unmistakable air of good cheer. All of Anthony’s officers had gathered for a council of war. Armed with their latest intelligence, a plan for the
Reaper
’s capture or destruction was being carried out. With Pope’s knowledge of local waters, Anthony called upon the lieutenant for specific recommendations. The admiralty charts were far from accurate in regards to the specific depths, shoals and channels around the rendezvous area. This was information Anthony had to have in order for
Drakkar
to be positioned so that she could spring from her hiding place and close the door on the trap that he was planning for
Reaper
. It had to be a complete surprise to work. Therefore, accurate information had to be obtained. The local charts were more reliable, but a
scouting expedition would have to be undertaken before Anthony would feel satisfied.

According to the captured documents, the
Reaper
would rendezvous with
Scythe
on 16 March. If either ship failed to meet on that day, an attempt to rendezvous again would be made on 20 March. The rendezvous would take place at Snake Island. Pope stated that with the tides and season being as they were, he was sure
Reaper
would take the Anegoda Passage. The only piece of the puzzle missing was the time of day the meeting was to occur. Nothing about times had been found, and the pirate captain was dead so he couldn’t tell. With Anthony’s agreement, Pope had proposed to place one schooner and the ketch between Crab Island and the passage to Puerto Rico. The other two schooners would be placed between Crab Island and St. Croix.
Drakkar
would be anchored in the shallows between Virgin Gorda and St. John Island. That way,
Reaper
would be in the box before anyone knew the difference, if all went as planned. A damned big “IF!”

The problem was something was always likely to go awry. They may put the tiger in a cage, but she was still a tiger, and dangerous.

“The schooners are no match for
Reaper
’s broadside,”
Anthony cautioned his officers. “
Rascal
is proof of that. I’ll not send good men to their death in a useless display of ourage. I’ve no doubt as to your bravery and devotion. If you need to sink the vessel to close off a channel to prevent
Reaper
’s escape, then so be it. Get the men off, and scuttle the ship where it’ll do the most good. Remember, floating bodies and wreckage have yet to slow down
Reaper
. Those officers in command will be given written orders. However, I don’t want any of this onversation discussed once this meeting is over. I trust each of you, but I’m not yet convinced we don’t have a
py in our midst or possibly ashore, slipping information

o the cutthroats. If we do, then our plan is all for naught. The bastard will know we’ve captured
Scythe
and we’ll never see him at the rendezvous point. Am I clear?” All answered in unison. “Well, enough of that then. I know you’ll all act honorably. We have two weeks till our first endezvous is to take place. We’ll have plenty of time to arry out our usual patrols and do a little extra scouting of he rendezvous area in order to make any necessary hanges. However, all work and no play makes for dull officers. Therefore, as duty allows, let’s get cleaned up and make ready for the commodore’s festivities this evening. I hear there are ladies who have made their way here from St. Johns just to say they’ve been in company with some of our randy fellows.”

As the officers were making their way out of the dining area, Anthony overheard a story between Markham, Earl and Gabe. Caleb’s damn ape had walked up behind a tavern wench, and while she was serving drinks the ape lifted the back of her skirt, grabbed her thighs, and stuck his hairy head between her legs. The frightened, screaming girl pulled up the front of her skirt only to see the grinning face of the ape that was still holding onto her thighs. Realizing it wasn’t a man, but not sure what had a hold of her, she attempted to jump up on one of the benches. With all the screaming and dancing around by the girl, the ape lost his hold on her thighs. Reaching for a new handhold, he grabbed her bloomers. However, with the wench still jumping about these fell down to her ankles, tripping her. There she lay face down on the tavern floor with spilled ale everywhere, and her naked arse shining up like a great moon. The whole tavern was a roar. Caleb had to give the poor ape a whole glass of ale to calm it down after the wench had frightened it so. Then they
were out, their laughter fading as they headed topside. Anthony and Buck, overwhelmed at what they’d heard, stared at one another.

“The poor ape. What about the wench?” Buck asked. “Damme, sir, but damme. I don’t know,” an awed Anthony replied.

***

Lady Deborah was beautiful, dressed in a bare-shouldered gown of emerald green, which matched her eyes perfectly. She had noticed Anthony’s stare.

“You don’t approve?”

“Ah! The contrare, my darling. If only you knew how magnificent you looked, you’d forgive my stare,” Anthony answered as he allowed a lingering gaze at her splendid bosom.