H.M.S Valor

by Cal Clement

  When the burlap hood was ripped away a world of blinding light rushed into Cobb’s eyes. His vision was blurred, and his head pounded from being struck, blood trickled down from his brow and ear where he had been hit several times on the march up the ship. The bleary forms of sailors crowded around him and as his vision began to clear, he could see they were all looking down on him with dreadful expressions of murderous intent.

  “Let me see him.” Tim’s voice came from behind the crowd, parting the sailors until Cobb could see him, looking down from the forecastle. “Mr. Cobb, as you can see, your crew holds no great love for you. I suspect they never have. We will make your departure from us as dignified as you deserve.” Sladen said with a sickening grin.

  Shouted threats and insults pelted Cobb from the crowd while an abrasive course rope was lowered from the rigging. A sailor standing by Mr. Sladen fashioned a noose from the bitter end of the line while they all continued to hurl insults and jeers down on him. Tim’s stare focused in on Cobb and when their eyes locked all faded from existence to Cobb but that grotesque smile. He was lording victory over the ousted commander and using Cobb’s own crew to do the deed. The heavy loop of a noose dropping over his head broke their death stare and even before it was cinched tight, he could feel it gnawing at the flesh of his neck. Cobb was dragged to his feet in a rough manner by a sailor at each side.

  “Heave away and farewell Mr. Cobb,” Tim said with a sloppy mocking salute repeated by many of the sailors surrounding him. A crew of men out of sight from Cobb began to heave the heavy line taking slack out in long jaunts until the rope was taut. The next heave took Cobb’s feet from the deck, biting the fibers of the rope into his flesh. He sucked for air getting only a gulp before his airway closed, the next heave rose him in a violent leap well over the heads of the sailors on deck. Cobb struggled against his wrist binding while the rope at his throat burned while it tore at the skin under the strain of his weight. His heartbeat screamed in his chest, sending a throbbing up through his neck radiating around his head. Cobb’s eyeballs felt as if they would explode with pressure while his lungs burned for air, pulsating against the airway closed off by the combination of rope and gravity. Another heave on the line sent a gush of blood from Cobb’s throat down amongst the crowd of sailors on deck, he could feel the warm fluid running from his ripped flesh down his chest and belly. Through bulging eyes, he could see the pirate ship, not so far off in the distance. A black banner rippling through the wind behind her stared back at him with hollow eyes from a menacing horned skull. Cobb kicked his feet and bucked himself, straining his bound hands desperately. His vision blurred and doubled, pain seared the fibers of his mind, white hot and relentless. His body tensed and seized erratically beyond his control. All sound faded from the world and he could feel another warmth drip from his pants as he lost control of his bladder. His final fading thoughts seemed to echo over and over in his mind. Good. Piss on them.

  Chapter 14

  Drowned Maiden

  27 Sept 1808

  19 Degrees 12 minutes N, 74 Degrees 03’ W

  The sharp smell of smoke still lingered in Lilith’s nostrils, drowning out the brine of the sea and even Chibs’ pipe which he puffed at with the same fervor, sitting at the aft castle bulkhead behind the helm. Her attention lay absorbed in the Maiden’s sails and her course. After consulting Chibs from his position on deck with a chart in hand, she had devised a plan which would rob their adversary of the advantage of both guns and numbers, but only if everything worked in her favor. She judged wind speed and direction and agonized constantly over the wheel and sail positioning, making minute corrections every few minutes. By Chibs’ reckoning, they would make round the southern point of west Haiti before the pursuing ship was within firing range. But only if the wind held.

  Every sail change required close guidance and it quickly became obvious that maneuvering while running the gun batteries would be out of the question until her crew was far more experienced. “We’ll use a different strategy is all Lil. It makes no difference how you beat their commander, so long as you beat them.” Chibs had told her. While the sun rose high above into the sky, they had made the best use they could of the smoke screen rising up from the wreckage of the Endurance, shielding their own movement from the ship far to the south. Shortly after noon though, it became apparent that they had been spotted by the ship Will had identified as the Valor, which skirted the wreckage and made sail on course toward the Maiden.

  On deck it felt like an ongoing funeral procession. The hands with experience either grieved for their lost captain or could see the impending danger approaching from behind while the Africans who had recently become part of the crew quickly realized how few an ineffective they were while executing basic sailing tasks. The only chance they had to best a seasoned crew, as Chibs had told Lilith, was to outthink them. The Valor was a Royal Navy warship, even without her commander she would have a seasoned crew, weary to almost any trickery a sixteen-year-old girl could produce. “So. You’ll have to do something that will catch an old sailor off guard. And it just so happens, you’ve got an old sailor on deck girl. We might just fare alright.” It did little to ease Lilith’s mind as the sails behind grew larger while the Valor continued making headway against them, gaining on them with every passing hour.

  Trina was a comforting presence, ever patient and instructive with the green crew of African rescues as she was with Lilith those first few weeks after she had joined the ranks of the Maiden. When the guard she had posted below to watch over their prisoners appeared on deck requesting Trina come below, Lilith thought nothing of it until Trina had been absent for some time. When Trina materialized on deck with Lieutenant Pike at her side, she didn’t know what to think, other than Trina must have held a soft spot for the man who had spared her life.

  “He says he is ready to do as the Maiden requires Captain, as well as the charges he came aboard with.” Trina said.

  “Just hours ago, he was ready to die before committing service to the Maiden. What changes? Should I expect a sword at my throat the minute I look away?” Lilith cut back, giving Will a suspicious glare.

  “I met your other prisoner. He has enlightened me to the circumstances behind what has occurred since my arrival in the Caribbean.” Will uttered with a somber stare.

  “The governor?” Chibs chimed, “Piss on that fat old dirtball. He’s so full of lies I’m surprised a sailor would give any credit to his hot air. Just a bunch of flotsam and dredge yield if you ask me.”

  “No, Sir. He is genuine, and he is the governor of Jamaica. He has proved as much to me based purely off information only the governor would be apprised of. The conclusions I have come to are disturbing. But based on them, I cannot in good conscience stay my present course. I will aid you in your effort, miss. So long as the ships you engage are not law-abiding merchantmen.” Will replied in a curt, matter of fact affect.

  “Fine. Relieve them of their restraints and put them to work Trin. But don’t arm them yet. I’m not quite convinced this won’t result in my throat being cut from behind.” She gave Will a side glance while she spoke, “Or at least, I’m not convinced they would try it.”

  “Try and fail girl. I saw what she can do with a sword aboard the Endurance, Lieutenant. Don’t let those princess eyes fool you. She’d drop your corpse to the deck and step into her next sword swing, that’s a fact.” Chibs added, pointing his weathered finger at the officer with a squinting glare. Lilith wore his protective threats like a shield, raising her eyebrows at Will, inviting his response.

  “I have no intentions of the sort. The Valor is my charge, whether the crew has mutinied or not, I am responsible for her actions and if she is aiding the slave trade, I will see her to the bottom while I live and breathe,” his words drug out as if he could barely annunciate them. “I’ll serve to that end, in any way that I can.”

  Lilith furrowed her eyebrows in a moment of thought, Trina gave her an encouraging nod, yet it was not qu
ite enough but with so few able bodies aboard she needed every strong back and willing heart. Chibs shifted in his seat, looking over everyone that had congregated in front of him. His tightly wrapped wounds showed no sign of infection yet, but the French doctor still held a concern over his long-term outlook especially after Lilith’s vows to hold him directly accountable. The salty quartermaster grimaced, pulling himself up by a ledge from the stairs he sat next to onto shaky legs. Lilith darted to aid him, only to be gently rebuffed.

  “I’ll get it, girl. I can’t have you powdering my arse the rest of my damned life. Let me be.” Chibs insisted, groaning with each movement up to his feet. When he finally stood erect, he leaned forward into a movement of the ship and nearly lost balance, recovering it after a little shuffling of his feet. He grabbed onto Lilith’s shoulder and looked over to an onlooking Will.

  “You can use the help Lil. I say release them from their cell, let them aid us, hell, I’d arm them if that ship gets close enough for it to matter.”, he shifted his eyes over to the beleaguered officer, “He knows if any harm befalls you miss, it’ll be me he answers to. Even wounded, it’s a stretch too far for most men, this one won’t be a problem.”

  “Aye, Chib.” Lilith replied, then turning, “Trina, release the Lieutenant’s men and see them to work. No weapons for them until we absolutely must.”

  “Yes Captain.” Trina’s response came sharp and clear.

  The addition of Will’s sailors and marines brought an immediate renewed vigor into the lifeblood of the Maiden. For hours the mournful glances between pirates old and new had told a tale of certain defeat to come, after only a few minutes on deck the disciplined and spirited men had every soul aboard tacked onto a new course. Urgency and resolve became the new theme, replacing exhaustion and despair. Sails were trimmed tighter and changes made with precision, quickening their pace. In less than an hour the Maiden had gone from losing ground and hope to steadily increase their lead. It was a lifted weight from Lilith’s shoulders, a stay of execution. The palpable relief felt through the crew lifted her spirit momentarily, until Will approached her on the quarterdeck as she looked back toward the Valor falling further behind.

  “We can delay them a while like this. But if she jettisons some ballast and makes a few sail changes, they will catch us. What do you plan to do miss Lilith?” he asked with a sober expression.

  “Captain Lilith.” She cut back, correcting him.

  “My apologies, Captain.” Will said with a sheepish grin.

  “Do you have a suggestion Lieutenant Pike? Or are you just going to glower at my ineptness?” Lilith said, annoyed by his smile.

  “I do, Captain Lilith. If you’ll take it.” Will replied. “We can’t outrun her indefinitely, but there are things we can do to keep her at bay until the opportune moment to strike. I recommend you lift a gun onto the quarterdeck, they will be hesitant to run within range if you fire an occasional shot off her bow.”

  Lilith was intrigued by his suggested tactic, but still unsure of trusting him.

  “Is it so important to fire at her bow that I should weaken the strength of my broadside?” Lilith asked in scouring tone.

  “I don’t intend that you should weaken anything that is not already emaciated Captain. The simple truth is that even with the few men I have that can contribute to your fighting power, we don’t have enough to sail and execute gunnery. We need to delay and stall them until we can gain a tactical advantage either by sea condition or using the chart to our advantage.” Will answered with a steady even cadence, his eyes locked onto hers. “I meant what I have told you Captain. My only aim is to see their end.”

  “Aye, so it would seem. Alright Lieutenant Pike, we will move the gun. See to it yourself and use whatever you need to get it done. As for using the charts to defeat our adversaries, you can rest assured Will, I have a plan,” she shot him a confident smile while he stepped off the quarter deck to effect his contributions.

  Lilith looked back out over the seas separating them from the Valor and noted the sun hanging low in the sky. Chibs huffed his way up next to her, the evening light playing on his face and seeming to give him back some of his color.

  “You really should be below Chib, resting.” Lilith said, knowing full well the response she would get.

  “Aye, I should be a rich old fat man, eating and drinking my fill and surrounded by beautiful women, but here I be.” Chibs grumbled with a smile, “I heard you gnawing at the Lieutenant. Now I’m curious girl. What is this plan of yours?”

  “How long of a run is it to the cove Chib?” she asked with a daring flash across her eyes.

  “What? The slaver cove?” he looked stumped.

  “No, Chib, the cove we refitted the Shepherd in. The Haitian cove.” Lilith said lowering her voice as Will came back on deck with a couple sailors in to aid moving the gun.

  “Well, not more than a day. But what do you plan there Captain? It’s folly to try and outrun them. We’ll surely still be in sight range, so we can’t hide. Once we’re in the cove Lil, we’ll be trapped.” Chibs replied growing exasperated as he spoke.

  “I don’t intend to hide Chibs and yes, I will make sail into the cove in full plain sight of them. But if all works according to my plan, it will be the Valor sailing into my trap. I just need to keep them at bay through the daylight hours.” Lilith’s eyes narrowed as she spoke, looking at Chibs she tried to gauge his response to her ambiguous outline. He scratched his foot along the deck, looking hesitant.

  “The Lieutenant should be able to keep them at length Captain, for a day at least. And yes, any commander worth his salt will sail right after you and bottle us into that cove. What could you possibly hope… to…” Lilith watched the realization hit as he spoke. A broad smile spread across his face and a shimmer of understanding came to his eye. “Girl, that’s going to bait them right in perfect. She’ll be a sitting duck.”

  “Yes. And I don’t intend to take prisoners afterward quartermaster. See to it the crew is understanding. If the new members have a change of heart when the time comes, I want them dealt with swiftly as well.”

  “Aye Captain. No Quarter.” Chibs replied with a satisfied grin.

  H.M.S Valor

  27 Sept 1808

  19 Degrees 22 minutes N, 74 Degrees 13’ W

  Cobb’s body swayed with the pitch of the ship, still dangling from the noose against the backdrop of red and purple evening glory in the Caribbean sky. His face remained twisted in a grotesque expression of pain and panic while his body remained rigid. The soft creaking of the thick line suspending his corpse sounded with every pitch and sway of the ship, death’s mocking serenade. The promise of gold payment for timely capture of the pirate ship ahead fomented the crew to action after the grizzly end of their mutinous leader, they had drawn together for renewed purpose before the dripping blood from his neck had ceased.

  Tim largely ignored any sideways looks he’d had to endure before Cobb swung, afterward it seemed as if the crew around him had galvanized at the promise of opulent payments. How quickly they forget, he thought, of their brethren I fed to the creatures of the deep, how beautiful a thing greed can be. Sails snapped and popped in the wind as the crew made adjustments to regain on their prey who in the waning hours of daylight, had made a remarkable increase in speed. Tim cared little for sailing and knew even less; his only concern remained the recovery of what remained of the money owed to the Order and silencing every voice who could give accurate details to anyone of consequence.

  Evening burned its way beneath the waves of the western horizon and the skies were soon littered with a million brilliant jewels of light, glittering and shimmering off the rippling seas. With the sunlight gone the night brought a chill which Tim cursed along with the never-ending sawing sway of the deck. His stare remained locked onto the sails on the horizon, even when they had gained back the distance lost earlier and drew even nearer, he could not bring himself to remove his eyes. His trapped focus was more than a
tunnel vision of blind hatred. He was afraid. He feared losing the ship to the night or being left at too far a range to regain their position. He dreaded the possibility that she was manned by a seasoned crew of pirates that would ambush them from some position along the coast. But more than that, with the ever present creaking of Cobb dangling above on his noose, Tim feared losing the promise of payment for the crew and the inevitable retribution that would occur when some of their uttered oaths were no longer lost to the glitter of promised gold.

  A slender moon did little to illuminate the night, but what light she did cast play along the pirate’s sails marking their position long into the darkness. Tim’s vigil on the bow outlasted the darkness of night as he stubbornly refused to allow the fleeing pirates a moment unwatched. Fiery columns of morning stretched their way into the sky, invading the heavens and slowly drowning the light of their brilliance. His eyes and legs ached, and his back felt as sour as his mood when he finally relented to sitting down at a bench near the helm. Tim had spent his life around soldiers and considered himself one still. Sailors were a different breed entirely, hard men for certain, but peculiar in Tim’s eyes. Some soldiers he had worked with were superstitious, which Tim considered a sign of lower intelligence, but it seemed almost every man aboard the Valor was concerned at some point or another about the bad luck of this or that. Just hearing it exhausted him as his mind reeled through constant reasonings to disprove their archaic beliefs.

  Morning wore on and the sun edged it’s way free of the embrace of the horizon, basking the seas in it’s warm glorious light. Tim remained seated on his bench, closely observing the helmsman while regularly peering out over the bow to make sure the sails they pursued hadn’t somehow eluded them without his constant watch. A grizzled petty officer approached him, unshaven and barefoot with horridly crooked and stained teeth, the man pulled a pipe from the clutches of his bite and pointed it toward the weather hatch leading below deck. His rambling brogue came across to Tim as utter gibberish, incoherent and undecipherable. Tim furrowed his brow at the rattle of the petty officer, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “What?” The response came even faster and less understandable. A younger seaman heard the exchange and approached behind the petty officer.