by Jo Goodman
The light and the noise of the battle attracted a second ship a naval brig intending to assist the floundering schooner. While prisoners were being taken aboard the Dianne, the Dark Lady diverted her adversary, delivering her into the hands of the Phoenix. The Phoenix, although swift and ably commanded, could not match the gun power of the brig. Dark Lady was going to return to help when the late arrival of the Hancock made it unnecessary.
Victory over the brig was assured after several hours. Aware of the limited time before morning, Alexis ordered the Dark Lady to the coordinates where the Raleigh had last been sighted. As they left, the Phoenix was taking prisoners and Alexis had to force her eyes away from the burning brig. She committed the destroyed vessel to memory, its smoking timbers and flaming sails engraved so finely in her mind that when she would recall the event later her stomach would heave.
On the way to their target the Centurion was sighted sailing in the direction of the harbor with a privateer in tow. Alexis maintained her course, calculating the increased risk to be acceptable with three of her four companions returning to port with prisoners and prizes.
Randall’s next sighting forced Alexis to order her men to their battle stations. She scanned the horizon for the ship while the men took positions by the cannons below deck and others manned the on-deck guns. She made a satisfied murmur when she located what Randall had observed and handed her scope to Jordan.
“They’re going to give chase, Mr. Jordan. Have Peach send up a flare to warn Hancock to stay away. She’ll be of no help to us, not against that frigate. We’re on our own.”
Jordan made out the shape of the vessel and thought he actually saw every one of the twenty guns on its port side. It was not a reassuring image. Handing the scope back to Alexis he carried out her order. The momentary light from the flare clearly exposed their position to the enemy and he wondered how she would turn that in their favor.
As if in answer to his thoughts Alexis told him, “This ship can outmaneuver any frigate on these waters and they’re not expecting us to give more than a token resistance. If I were their captain I would be readying my long-range guns. Give the order to take position to leeward at my signal.”
Jordan hoped his shock was hidden in the darkness. He was certain she knew that positioning the Dark Lady to leeward was an additional disadvantage. It would allow the frigate to close the distance more quickly.
When the British fired the first shot, missing the Dark Lady by only fifty yards, Alexis lifted her arm in signal and they slowed dramatically. Even as the frigate gained on them Alexis remained calm, keeping her pursuers off the port stern with clever maneuvering. She knew now the frigate was not the Raleigh, but her sister ship, the Francis Drake.
“Are the men ready at the Long Toms?”
“They’re ready, Captain.” He was wondering what their very accurate guns could do if the Drake managed to get broadside at close quarters. They would have no chance then. Still, he observed Alexis was in control, firing her orders as if this were her hundredth battle with weapons, rather than her first. He wanted to suggest that she move away from the helm. The frigate’s shots were coming dangerously close and she was in the line of any damage the shots could do. He opened his mouth to speak but his words were lost in the explosion on deck.
Jordan felt himself being lifted into the air and thrown against the deck. He raised an arm to cover his eyes, rolling with the movement of the ship as splinters of wood flew through the air with the velocity of gunshot. Alexis was unprepared for the force of the hit. Thrown in the opposite direction of her first mate, she made such a violent landing on the deck that air was knocked from her lungs. Gasping for breath she tore off her mask and struggled to her feet. Each successive breath she drew only seemed to increase the pain. She clutched her sides and the pain became even more fierce. Pulling aside her cape she felt blindly with her palms until they scraped a large splinter of wood lodged in her flesh. Quickly, before Jordan got to his feet, she broke off the part that protruded and used her hand to apply pressure to the wound. With her free hand she jerked the cape more closely about her.
“Are you all right, Captain?” Jordan’s voice was deep with anxiety by the time he reached her. He had a number of small cuts and bruises but nothing serious.
“I’m fine,” she said evenly. “I only lost my wind. You look as if you’ll live.” She surveyed the damage to her ship. Her men were putting out the fire and none of them appeared to have seen her fall. Redland, a nasty gash on the side of his head, had already resumed his position at the wheel. The Drake was closing in, gaining an advantage from their temporary confusion.
Alexis ignored the dull throb of pain in her side, pressing her hand harder against her flesh. “When I give the command we’re going to rake them, Mr. Jordan. Order the men to fire in succession as we cross their spar deck. We’ll make them regret coming so close.”
Jordan conveyed her orders. He had a brief moment to ponder the origin of her expertise, then he saw his answer standing by one of the guns. Alexis was unaware of Cloud watching her intently, conveying his approval. He would have been incapable of displaying more pride if he had been giving the orders himself.
“Now!” Alexis’s voice carried over all other sounds at that moment. The Dark Lady began her dangerous maneuver, sweeping in front of the frigate at close range. The lighter, faster merchant was able to perform the task easily, in spite of the Drake’s windward advantage. The cannons were fired in rapid succession as Dark Lady passed. The frigate retaliated with its bow battery but two cannon were no match for Alexis’s broadside cannonade.
“We’ll sweep her again, Mr. Jordan.” She looked through her scope to estimate the damage. “One more pass should leave her crippled. We’ll not board. Their crew probably outnumber us three to one. Raise the wedges on half the guns and fill them with hot shot. Aim for their sails, masts, and rigging.”
The Dark Lady began to turn again. The Drake lost its advantage after Alexis’s daring retaliation. On the second sweep the damage to the other vessel was devastating. The guns filled with hot shot, cannonballs that had been fired red-hot in the forge, tore into the warship’s sails, setting the canvas ablaze. The flames climbed the foremast just as the first rays of the sun appeared on the horizon. The two lights clashed, fighting for domination until smoke enveloped the Drake, blocking the sun, naming destruction the victor.
A cheer went up on deck as Dark Lady regained the windward position and the ship moved quickly out of the frigate’s range. Alexis looked around at her men, some of whom were beginning to come up from the lower decks. Even their faces, streaked with gunpowder and sweat, could not hide the glow of victory. A murmur of excitement ran through them as they slapped one another on the back, not so much in the manner of a job well done as in a manner that was meant to assure them they were still alive. She saw Cloud’s face among them, but he was not joining the celebration. His gaze was fixed on her as if he knew something was wrong. She was suddenly conscious of her hand beneath the cape pressed so tightly to her side. She countered his concern with a smile and relaxed her stance, but did not remove her hand. Apparently relieved, he saluted her smartly and turned back to the others.
“The Hancock’s asking if we’re all right, Captain,” Randall called from above her.
“Tell her yes and signal her to return home. We’ve done what we set out to do.”
The Hancock saw the flag they had been waiting for, the colors of the Quinton Line, hoisted until it rested on the gaff directly below the Stars and Stripes. The next five shots from their guns were both a salute to Danty’s prowess and a farewell to the Dark Lady, now leaving them as planned to go toward the target that had been her reason for being.
After Alexis was sure the Hancock was safely on its way she permitted her tightened muscles to relax. As the tension ebbed, her pain increased. She gave her scope to Jordan, aware that it took a conscious effort on her part to lessen the tight, bloodless grip her fingers had held on th
e instrument.
Jordan took the scope and had a last look at the damaged vessel. The smoke was beginning to clear which meant the fire was being brought under control. Little good it would do them, he thought. The ship did not have more than a few hours above the water, but it was enough to release the boats and save most of them. He brought the scope down, slapping up against his thigh, and turned his attention to Alexis. He noted she was still holding her side but other than that she appeared to be fine. He followed her to a broken section of the rail where they both leaned against it, daring it to give way beneath them.
He whistled softly. “That was some fancy maneuvering, Captain.” His voice held a note of awe.
Alexis forced a smile. “Out with it, Mr. Jordan. You didn’t think I knew what I was doing.”
He was tempted to deny it, thought better of it, and answered, “You’re right. I had my doubts.”
She laughed but cut it short because of the pain the effort brought her. She just wanted to enjoy her victory a little longer before she gave in. “You should have known better. All this time aboard this ship together, you should have known better.” She repeated the words he had once said to her. Her tone reflected none of the seriousness. Her voice was bright, mocking.
“I deserved that,” he chuckled.
Alexis enjoyed the sound of his laughter. It was a salve for her pain. “Will you see to the damages? And the wounded?” She pointed to Redland at the wheel. “He’s been hurt. Thrown the same time we were.”
Jordan saw blood from a cut trickling down the side of Redland’s thin face. He nodded to Alexis and moved toward the injured man. “Wilkes! Take the helm! Redland’s been hurt!” Redland protested but Jordan took him away while Wilkes filled in for him. While he was being led away, Redland cast a suspicious glance at Alexis. He knows, she realized. She put a finger to her lips and her eyes ordered him to say nothing. She moved away from the broken rail and reviewed the damage around her. Just a while longer, she told herself when the pain became harder to bear. Just until everything is safely under control. She found a place where she could sit and oversee her men’s work. At the same time she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. It was not long before Jordan returned.
“I thought you were going to let me see to the damages?”
She dismissed his complaint with a wave of her hand. “How many wounded?”
“Redland. Brandon. He was hurt when one of the cannon misfired. A few cuts and bruises on some of the others. Nothing serious. Peters has them in the orlop. We were fortunate.” He frowned, glancing down at her side. “Are you sure you’re all right? Perhaps you broke a rib during your fall.”
“My ribs are fine,” she assured him. She straightened her posture, keeping her hand in place. “We did a good job, Mr. Jordan,” she said quietly. “Tell them,” she pointed to her men. “Tell them they did a good job.”
Jordan’s brows drew together. “Tell them yourself,” he said bluntly, almost insolently. He regarded her pale face for a moment. Something was wrong with her. “Captain, what happened to you? You’re not all right.”
“I will be.” She hunched over as the pain became unbearable. The blood began to push through her fingers as the pressure of her hand became insufficient to staunch the flow. She was too frightened now to examine the extent of her own injury, certain she would faint if she looked at it.
“Captain?” His voice held a note of alarm, but he could not see the blood yet. Jordan grabbed her shoulders and Alex shook him off.
Her voice was almost inaudible. Repairs on the ship had stopped and voices were hushed as the men became aware something had happened to their captain. “Promise me you will see to Travers.”
“Captain?”
“Promise me!” Her tone held both the authority of a command and the helplessness of a plea.
Jordan could not have ignored either. “Of course, Captain, I promise.” She glanced up at him. Two bright crimson patches appeared on her cheeks, flushing her face unnaturally. Her eyes were glazed with a thin wet sheen. Although they were focused on his face he knew she was not seeing him at all.
His answer echoed in her head and she managed a weak response. “Good,” she whispered. “I am going to my cabin. Tell the men to get back to work.” She stood, turning her back on Jordan and the curious stares of her men and took three steps before she could not take another. She turned back to Jordan whose face went white as a gust of wind lifted her cape and he saw the blood covering her hand. “I need some help,” she said a shade guiltily. She drew her hand away from the wound, and Jordan could see an ugly splinter still piercing the black silk of her shirt and beneath that, her flesh.
“Christ!” He started forward as Alexis began to sway, her smile vanishing. Even before he reached her he was aware of another person at his side. He stopped. Cloud went forward and Alexis collapsed into his arms.
Cloud swore as he looked at her pale face. “Mr. Jordan, is there anyone aboard who can attend her?”
“Peters can. He’s in the orlop now.”
“Then get him. I’ll put her in her cabin.” Cloud adjusted Alexis’s weight in his arms and hurried toward her cabin. Peters was beside him by the time he placed her on the bunk.
“Find Peach, Tanner,” Peters said breathlessly. “Tell him to fetch my medicine in the orlop. He’ll know what to bring.” Cloud stood motionless, held immobile by Alexis’s unconscious form. “Hurry!” Peters commanded imperiously.
Cloud moved quickly and did as he was told. When Peach and he returned with supplies, Peters had stopped the steady flow of blood but each time he tried to retrieve a splinter or a thread of material it would start again.
“Peach! Where does the captain keep her liquor?”
The cabin boy brought Peters a bottle of brandy which he used to bathe the edges of the wound. Alexis jerked under this slow onslaught of pain but she did not wake. Peters handed the bottle to Cloud after he took a few gulps. “You need this as much as she does,” he said flatly. “Drink up.”
Cloud took his advice. After the brandy’s warmth fired his veins he passed the bottle to Peach. He was not aware of what he had done until the boy’s choking reached his senses. He snatched the bottle away. “Let me have that! She’d have both our heads.”
Peach nodded and kept his eyes trained on what Peters was doing to his captain.
“Hold her hands down, Tanner,” he ordered. “I’m going to try to get the rest of those splinters. She made this as difficult as it could be.”
Cloud frowned at the man but he placed the brandy on the floor and grasped Alexis’s wrists. Peters saw the look and said, “I can tell she broke off a section of the wood. Probably to keep anyone from seeing it. By doing that, she put pressure on the pieces remaining inside and impaled herself more deeply.”
“Difficult. Of course.” Cloud said softly, feeling himself pale.
“Exactly Hold her still. She won’t wake, thank God, but she’s going to be able to feel this probing anyway.”
Cloud winced as Alexis struggled against the digging. Each moan cut through the three men in the room.
“Peach! Find something for her to bite down on. I can’t work hearing her cry out.” Peters probed again and extracted a shard almost two inches long from her flesh. This time when Alexis opened her mouth Peach jammed a wadded strip of sheet between her teeth and the only sound that came out was muffled considerably.
Peters worked for the next hour, stopping the blood flow long enough to extract some piece of the ship from her body then working frantically to stop the flow again. Above them the repairs continued on the Dark Lady. Her men worked with a vengeance, trying to forget what was happening beneath their feet. And back in Charleston, the Hancock spread the tale of Alex Danty’s victory over the Drake, unaware of the toll being extracted for breaking the blockade.
Jordan checked on her every fifteen minutes until Peters told him his constant interruptions were no good for anyone’s nerves. On his last v
isit he shivered seeing Alexis’s lifeless body and the face of the man holding her wrists. Cloud’s features were contorted in a wounded expression more terrible to look upon than his captain’s. He shut the cabin door quietly, fully aware that anything she was suffering was nothing compared to what Cloud was taking upon himself.
“I’ve gotten everything out,” Peters said at last. “I’ll clean it out again before I stitch it. Peach, get me a needle and thread. You can let go of her now, Tanner. She’s beyond pain.” He said the words gently but they exploded in Cloud’s head.
“Is she going to live?” It was a question he had not wanted to ask, but seeing that Peters was right, that Alexis was far beyond them now, he forced the words.
Peters shook his head and took the needle and thread from Peach’s trembling fingers. “I’m not giving up hope, Tanner, but it doesn’t look very good. She’s lost so much blood. I don’t know how she lasted through the battle.”
Peach, who hadn’t been able to speak since he’d entered her cabin, glared venomously at Cloud. Even his words, when they came out, had a hissing quality. “This is your fault! She wouldn’t be dying if she had left you in Washington!”
“Quiet yourself,” Peters said to the boy. “Get out of here if you’re going to talk like that. She’d dismiss you if she could hear you.”
Peach was not intimidated. “And it’s his fault that she’s dying!” He winced at the pain he saw in Cloud’s face but he did not back down. “It is your fault! It is! It is!” Suddenly he realized he was crying.
“Get him out of here,” Peters muttered to Cloud. Peach’s sobs were just as disquieting to him as Alexis’s previous moans. “And don’t listen to what he says. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m not so sure,” Cloud answered. “I’m not so sure at all.” He left Alexis’s side and crossed the room to Peach. He placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders and drew him close. He was glad Peach did not pull away. He didn’t think he could stand the rejection. He needed the closeness of someone who loved Alexis as much as Peach did. “Come on. We’ll go on deck. There is nothing for us to do here. Jordan will come down to be with her.”