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T
he wind had backed to the Southwest.
Drakkar
had every inch of canvas spread and was laid close to the centerline, yet she clawed for every yard. The two schooners appeared to be making a better time of it. This is what they were rigged for. They were built for speed, like greyhounds on the ocean. However, their light, fragile hulls made them more vulnerable to gunfire if they couldn’t escape to windward. A schooner had two masts with two equal sized mainsails, gaff-rigged and extended by booms. The topsails were square rigged with a square mainsail. Anthony had heard the master commenting to young Davy about what a sight they made under full canvas.

“Fine sight ‘eh lad? I’ll give it to the Colonials. They knows how to make a fine ship.”

“Colonials made those ships?” Davy asked.

“Aye, lad. Schooners are a product of North America. Just as a cutter was made for the coast off Kent and Sussex.”

Looking at the schooners, Anthony thought of Gabe.
He could imagine how he and Lieutenant Earl were enjoying their freedom, being out from under the “commodore.”

“Deck there,” called down the masthead lookout.
“LeFoxxe
is signaling.”

“Ship, nay two ships, off the larboard bow.”

Anthony turned and saw Buck with a glass to his eye.

“Acknowledge,” Anthony said. “Have them investigate but not engage if it’s a superior force.”

“Mr. Davy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take a glass and go aloft. Let me know as soon as we are in sight of the two vessels.”

“Aye, sir.” Then up the ratlines the youth went, his energy and desire to please not lost on Anthony. A few minutes later Davy shouted down, “Two ships lying to, sir.”

Buck rolled his eyes and muttered, “Gawd have mercy!”

“Can you be more definitive, Mr. Davy?” Anthony called up, trying not to laugh at Buck’s frustrated comment. He knew the regular lookout, a seasoned sailor, could have called down the sighting, but Anthony wanted Mr. Davy to get the experience.

“Deck there,” Davy shouted again. “One is a merchant ship, sir. The other appears to be a schooner. She’s square rigged and is much like
LeFoxxe
. The schooner must have seen
Lefoxxe,
sir. She’s getting underway.”

“Deck there.” This time it was the regular lookout. “She be a pirate, sir. She’s fired on
LeFoxxe.”

Anthony turned to Buck, “Beat to quarters.”

“Aye, sir.”

The masthead lookout called down again. “The schooner looks like she’s trying to run to starboard, but the merchant ship is still lying hove to.
LeFoxxe
‘as fired ‘er broadside and scored several hits. I saw several bits and pieces flying before the smoke blocked me view. She’s coming outta the smoke now, sir. Looks like she’s a couple more points to starboard.”

Anthony and Buck looked at each other upon hearing this. “Trapped like the rat she is,” exclaimed Buck.

Anthony nodded and ordered, “Signal
LeCroix
to engage the enemy.”

“LeCroix
has acknowledged,” Davy called down, still at the masthead.

“Think she’ll fight or run?” asked Peckham.

“What would you do?” Anthony answered the master. Anthony called to a bosun’s mate, “Give Mr. Pitts my compliments and tell him I’d like to see him as soon as he can turn over his duties to the gunner.”

“Aye, sir.”

When Pitts arrived he was breathless. He was obviously anticipating Anthony’s summons by the speed at which he arrived.

“Damme, Mr. Pitts,” exclaimed Anthony. “I’ve not seen one so eager to knock on St. Peter’s door.”

Smiling, Pitts responded, “No guts, no glory, sir.”

“Well have a care, sir. The men with you might not be so anxious. Now, if you can control yourself, muster a boarding party forward with the bosun. My compliments to lieutenant Dunn. Have him loan you a group of marines to go with your boarding party. Then ask him to attend me, please.”

“Aye, sir.” Then Pitts was off. There was now no more than a mile between the converging ships. From above, the lookout called down again, “The chase ‘as tacked, sir.”

“Thinks he’ll make for some inlet and lose us’ns,” the master opined.

“Sir,” Lieutenant Dunn said, announcing his arrival.

“Ah, Lieutenant Dunn,” Anthony said. “I would appreciate it, sir, if you would post your best sharpshooters in the rigging as soon as you think proper.”

“Directly, sir,” then Dunn was gone.

The three ships, Drakkar,
LeFoxxe,
and
LeCroix
now formed a triangle with the chase in the middle with
nowhere to go. “The rogue’s let loose a broadside,” Buck

volunteered.

“Pop guns,” snorted the master.

Anthony had his glass to his eye, but replied to the master’s comment. “Pop guns they may be, but damnable accurate.” He had seen through his glass jagged, gaping holes along
LeFoxxe’s
bulwark where she had been hit.

LeFoxxe
and
LeCroix
were both returning fire and their accuracy was not without merit. “They’ve hit her good,” Buck exclaimed. “There goes her main mast.”

“I bet that took the wind outer her,” said the master, chuckling at this pun.
LeFoxxe
and
LeCroix
were now grappling with the schooner, one larboard and the other starboard.

Anthony turned to the master, “Bring her up a couple points and put us across her stern so we can board aft.”

“Aye,” the master replied and barked his orders to the quartermaster. The distance was now less than a cable.

Lieutenant Pitts called to his men, “Boarders make ready.” The bosun was there checking each man’s weapons. Some had cutlasses and pikes while others had tomahawks. Some were even armed with service pistols.

Bart looked at Anthony and casually commented, “I ‘ope that pistol don’t go off accidental like. Way it’s pointing it’d change yer love life substantial like, I’m thinking.”

Anthony looked down. Bart had helped buckle on his sword, but handed him his pistol. When he’d stuck the pistol in his waistband he’d inadvertently cocked the pistol. Now he had a loaded, cocked pistol pointed toward his manhood.

“You vulgar dog,” Anthony said, quickly easing the hammer down to the half-cock.

“Nay cap’n,” Bart said, still calling Anthony cap’n and not commodore. “Just looking out for the lady’s interest.”

Anthony then remembered Davy was still aloft. “Mr. Davy, bring yourself down if you please and take station by the master.”

“Aye, sir,” Davy replied. Then he came sliding down the backstay with such speed it startled Anthony. Gone was the timid boy who reported on board a few months ago. Davy was now a seasoned midshipman.

Drakkar
groaned
as she touched with the schooner. “Boarders away, boarders away.” Mr. Pitts and his group poured over onto the smaller ship, cutting down all resistance as they went, Lieutenant Dunn’s marine sharpshooters were making their presence felt as well.

A torrent of curses and groans, some English and some in French came from every quarter. Musket and pistol shots filled the air, the smoke from the shots leaving a pungent odor that burnt the eyes and nostrils. Clang-clang metal on metal as cutlass encountered cutlass, bright metal turning dark from blood and gore.

“To me,” Buck screamed as he deflected a boarding pike, then with a quick maneuver slashed at the man attacking him. The slash opened up the man’s belly spilling his innards onto the deck. Mercifully, one of
Drakkar’s
marines shot the man, ending his agony.

As Anthony stepped over a body a man jumped up from one of the cannons and with a savage laugh attacked him. The attack was over before it began as Mr. Pitts quickly shot the man with his pistol.

He then calmly volunteered, “Sounded like a bloody maniac, captain.”

Drakkar’s
crew continued to surge forward against the pirates. However, they’d not given up yet.

Gabe and Earl found themselves back to back, fending off two attackers. One of the rogues struck a heavy blow that felled Earl, leaving Gabe to protect his friend and fend for himself. At that moment Dagan came into view. Seeing Gabe’s predicament created a sense of urgency in Dagan. He attacked the foe before him with such savagery Anthony almost felt sorrow for the fellow. The brute lunged at Dagan, whom deflected the other’s cutlass. Then with a ferocious blow, completely beheaded the man. Dispatching this opponent brought Dagan to Gabe’s side, who was still fending off the two attackers at once. Dagan’s blade was a large broadsword. His next swing caused the heavy blade to completely sever his opponent’s arm. It fell to the deck lifeless, its fingers still clutching the hilt of its blade. The wounded fellow was in shock, looking at the stump that a moment ago had been his arm. As blood spurted from severed arteries, the man turned white then collapsed, dead before he hit the deck.

The overwhelming numbers from
Drakkar
and her consorts soon overran all resistance. One of the survivors was a man in a filthy uniform coat of a French naval lieutenant. He had laid down his weapons and cried for mercy. Gabe pointed at the red flag still flying aloft and shouted, “You dare beg for mercy while flying the red flag?” He spat in disgust and turned his attention to Lieutenant Earl. Anthony walked up just as Gabe helped Earl to his feet.

Earl reached up and touched the side of his head. Blood had started to congeal, but when he touched his head it started to ooze again. Wincing as he touched the nasty cut, Earl pulled his bloody hand away.

Gabe snickered at the sight. “Damme Stephen. The rogue has lopped off the top of your ear. I hope your hat still fits.”

Earl looked at Gabe and said, “Aye, but for you he’d have had my whole damn head.”

Dunn’s marines, along with a few of the hands from the boarding party, had rounded up the last of the surviving pirates. The dead ones were unceremoniously tossed over the side. “Give the sharks a bellyache,” Bart had said. Anthony also noticed, but chose to ignore that the dead pirates were being relieved of anything of value prior to becoming shark bait.

A thorough search was made of the ship, resulting in Mr. Markham’s find. “Sir, we’ve found some very official looking papers. They’re written in French. There’s also a small chest with specie and one with a few gems and the like, such as a lady would wear.”

Anthony followed Markham down to the pirate captain’s cabin and was surprised but glad to see the midshipman had taken the initiative to put a marine guard at the door. There were several letters as Markham had mentioned. Anthony could only make out a few words here and there as the letters were soiled with food and drink; however, one letter appeared to be talking about a fifty-gun frigate. It also contained a page that was better cared for than the rest and it was filled with dates in one column and numbers in another column.

Markham volunteered, “It appears like code, sir, for a rendezvous on certain dates—but where? I think the number represents a location.” Anthony agreed with Markham’s assessment.

“Look here, sir,” Markham had picked up another paper. At the top was the word “Reaper.” Then under one column was 27-28 June and across from it in
another column the single digit “six.” A very valuable clue and a very simple code, but without more information it would be impossible to break.

Anthony turned to a bosun’s mate close by. “My compliments to Lieutenant Dunn. Ask him to have that French speaking prisoner in the navy coat brought up on deck and held by
Drakkar
’s main mast.”

“Aye, sir,” then the sailor was gone.

“Do you speak French, Mr. Markham?” Anthony asked.

“Only a little, sir.”

“It will have to do. I don’t want the prisoner to know that I do, so you will act as my interpreter.”

“Aye, sir.”

Once Anthony and his accompanying officers got back on
Drakkar
he found Lieutenant Dunn had the pirate trussed up and under guard.

“Mr. Buck.”

“Aye sir.”

“Assemble the crew to witness punishment.”

Buck looked at Anthony somewhat bewildered. “Punishment, sir?”

“Yes, Mr. Buck, a hanging,” Anthony replied, certain that the French pirate understood more English than he let on. Well, he could think on that.

“A hanging, sir?” Buck questioned.

“Yes, dammit, a
hanging,” Anthony snapped. “Here or Antigua makes no difference. His fate was sealed when they attacked the merchantman. Lieutenant Mainard!”

“Yes, sir,” Mainard replied. He was pondering the pirate’s hanging when his name was called suddenly.

“Loosen your grapnels and go check on the vessel the rogues were having at and take the surgeon with you.”

“Aye, sir.” Then Mainard left to do his bidding, somewhat relieved that he was being sent on an errand and wouldn’t have to witness the hanging.