Both recovered and again faced off. As if on cue, both began a vicious barrage of thrusts and strikes at each other as streams of sweat flowed, and drops of crimson speckled the deck from slight cuts each had. At lightning pace, they desperately went at each other trying to defy the odds of living out yet another macabre day as in an arena only fit for gladiators of olden days that back then held morbidly buoyant spectators with the sole intent on the pleasure of seeing blood and guts spilled. Today’s spectators were not as blood-thirsty, although they did have plenty of animosity toward Colonel Thomas. In the crew’s view, the colonel was embroiled in an all-out attack out of sheer personal hatred of this unknown German ship captain who they saw was thoroughly duped into this struggle for life by a man who commanded way too much power. It had taken the crew only two short sea outings with Colonel Thomas aboard to witness his sinister side. In their estimation, the man’s treatment of their beloved Captain Hennessey was shameful, and Thomas had unjustly dispensed punishments to several sailors onboard. With great dislike for the colonel, the crew was watching the gruesome spectacle hoping the result would favor the schooner captain.
So much energy was being expended in the fight that tested their stamina. Each weapon strike was now accompanied by vicious snorts resembling wild boars battling it out and in their throes of death. Pulsating hearts raced as if there was no tomorrow, which to the loser was sadly promised. A strike sliced into Heinrich’s left thigh. Although not deep, his leg almost buckled from under him, but somehow, he stayed on his feet.
Drope could have easily broken into despair caused by Thomas’s accomplished swordsmanship. The man hadn’t backed off at all with his aggressive attack the entire fight. Heinrich barely eluded the savageness of the colonel’s assault. Grunts and clanging sounds of swords kept up their frenzied pace. A rapid-fire exchange had Heinrich back-peddling to stay out of reach. Artfully feigning one way, Thomas’s blade angled down, while Heinrich turned and leaped sideways, but he felt the cut into his sword arm high on the side of the shoulder. Athletically darting away in desperation, blood streamed from his wound, and he tried to stem the flow with his left hand. He could feel the sensation of strength giving way in the arm as muscles weakened as he was bent over holding the injured member. So far, the pain hadn’t hit. He expected Thomas to rush in quickly to finish him off, but strangely the colonel held off and stood still for the first time since the duel began. “What was the man doing? It was not in him to offer any mercy,” his mind screamed out as he looked at his adversary.
With chest heaving, taking in air, Thomas casually wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt sleeve. A wicked smirk appeared on his face. The smirk changed to an expression of what Heinrich could only assume was exalted jubilation as the man was ready to deliver the death blow. The colonel realized that Drope had incurred a severe wound, which reduced his ability to stave off defeat.
Heinrich bristled at the thought of having failed. He tried lifting his sword arm, and with bone-chilling dismay found he could barely move it. Alarming fear gripped his brain. He realized the cut was deep as his left hand was still unable to stem the blood flow. The blade must have cut into muscle. With no time to stem the flow, and his arm too weak to work the sword, he took the blade in his left hand, while his right arm hung at his side incapacitated. Blood seeped freely from the cut. Along with the thigh wound, he would bleed out if he didn’t get the wounds taken care of soon.
Thomas smiled as he stepped toward him; half his shirt was torn off. He was toying with his sword slowly swirling the point in the air in a small circle. A hush had settled over the crowded decks. The crew knew that the death knell was ready to chime for the poor merchant captain. None were enthused about it.
“So, my dear German skipper; you are a slippery devil I must say. You have surprised us all with your sudden mastery with words, and then showing a … let’s say, rudimentary sword skills.” He allowed little praise. “You are an interesting fellow, but I’m afraid you won’t be around long for us to find out your other traits. Do understand poor chap that this is nothing personal. It is simply a formality in the scheme of things.”
Heinrich now felt the onset of pain, and his strength weakening. His right arm was of no use. The cut in his thigh was seeping precious blood. The small prick in the lower abdomen was still trickling blood although it was not an issue. His face grimaced with the pain, but he held his fighting stance. However useless his situation had suddenly become, instead of projecting meekness in the face of certain defeat, he looked at the colonel with spiteful eyes. His mind strove hard to come up with anything that could give him leverage but what and how in his impaired condition?
“What compels you to act in this antagonistic manner, colonel? Does it gratify you to lord it over other men? Does rational thinking ever abound in your mind?”
“Oh, come now, my fond fellow. Don’t be so naïve. Do remember it was you who challenged me. Unfortunately, it was your worse mistake.”
“Must it come to the shedding of blood to satisfy your appetite?”
“Don’t throw me your insolent attitude! Your undoing was your own fault.”
“What a sore-headed loser. Are any of your superior officers that way?”
“Let’s dispense with this waste of words. Just take your final punishment like a man. Now defend yourself as I put an end to you.”
Drope thought he could accept death if only somehow his crew would be spared, but knew that was not to be with this unmerciful colonel. He found the thought unbearable. Never had he been in such an afflicted condition. In the past, there were always other options. Thomas made his move; stepping in with his sword poised to thrust a deadly strike, and … and Heinrich tossed his blade down at the man’s boots in surrender; a last feeble act hoping it would end the fight. It was a desperate move hoping to gain the slightest of interludes to perhaps change to a different weapon. Why not? They had done so from pistol to sword. Why not suggest knives? He believed with knives, he would stand a chance. In his injured state, the colonel would most likely accept the offer. Besides, the man was so full of himself; he would surely enjoy the idea of killing his prey closeup; eye to eye. The colonel abruptly halted his strike, quite perplexed at his foe’s action. The hesitation was but brief as he brought his sword up once again.
A loud piercing shout erupted from Captain Hennessey as he rushed in.
“Stand down, colonel! Stand down! The man has capitulated. You have won the duel. Now back off, and allow the surgeon to take a look at his wounds.”
“No … never!” Thomas screamed at the top of his lungs. “He will pay for what he did. I will not have mercy on him!”
“You must stand down! This was a gentlemen’s duel! There is no respectability in killing an unarmed man. Consider your honor!”
“My honor will be secured with his last breath!”
“Then it is your reputation that will suffer for it if you simply kill an unarmed man!”
Thomas halted his motion, and slowly as if he was fighting part of himself, he turned to face Hennessey and tossed his sword to the deck. Before he could say something, Drope quickly spoke.
“Shall it be knives then, colonel? A knife is all that I can handle in my wounded condition. Let us settle this once and for all, and everything else be damned.”
Thomas spun around to glare at him. Vile anger distorted his face as the man stood seething at Heinrich. “You spineless dog! If you think knives will favor you, have it your way. No one can say I did not allow you plenty of chances.”
Hennessey held up his hands in protest and stepped between the two men.
“It’s alright now, captain,” Heinrich stated. “It will all be over soon. The colonel is being extremely fair, and I am grateful for it.”
Before Captain Hennessey could protest, Thomas tersely said, “You heard him, Hennessey. I am a gracious duelist. And now you stop interfering once and for all, or you will face my judgment in a court-martial. No more halting this
duel, you hear me? This ends now!”
Lieutenant Collins handed each of them a long-bladed dagger and instructed both men to face off ten feet apart. Having to use his weak hand, Drope was still at a disadvantage. He decided he had to strike quickly to have any chance of surviving. Collins gave the go-ahead, and immediately Drope rushed forward. His quick attack caught the colonel off guard, and the man extended his knife in an attempt to stave off a thrust while sidestepping to his right. Knowing he would have Thomas in a defensive mode, though only briefly, it would most likely be his best opportunity against an unwounded foe. Anticipating Thomas moving in that direction; a move favored by a right-hander so that he could keep his face to his attacker, Heinrich suddenly leaped and followed the colonel to that same spot. His dagger in his left hand struck out in several swift strikes of which one caught Thomas’s knife arm in the wrist with the point. The point went in deep, and as the colonel involuntarily yelped out in pain, the stab forced him to drop the dagger. Instead of following through, and stabbing his foe, ending the fight, Heinrich placed his left foot behind the man, while swinging his left arm around the body, knocking the colonel over on his back. Drope swiftly brought the dagger up to Thomas’s throat.
“Move, and you die!” he said through clenched teeth. The colonel’s entire body tensed up with fright, and he tried his best not to move hence getting his throat sliced open. They faced each other mere inches apart, out of breath.
“Well, what will it be, colonel? Are we going to call it quits or do I cut you?”
Still with his chest heaving, and eyes bulging, Thomas leered at Drope, not answering. Putting a bit more pressure on the blade did the trick, and the man gave in.
“Alright, alright! The fight’s over. Get off of me,” Thomas demanded.
Both men got to their feet. Heinrich was a bit slower as he cringed in pain mainly from the arm wound. He tossed his dagger next to the other one, turned, and began to walk toward Captain Hennessey when several loud shouts rang out behind him. He spun around, losing his balance because of his wounds, and almost fell. Colonel Thomas was but two paces away, and looking straight ahead his face beheld a ghastly expression. In his hand was one of the daggers. His body impulsively sprung up straight and rigid. The knife fell from his hand and clattered to the deck as he stood frozen momentarily as a marble sculpture. Heinrich was perplexed as he watched the man act as a puppet being controlled by strings. Thomas’s fists balled up, his teeth clenched together, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably. The army officer staggered, spinning about with eyes bulging in his sockets. Blood spurted from his neck in pulsating squirts and splattered the deck. Heinrich now vividly saw the pointed end of a knife blade protruding out of Thomas’s neck on one side with just the handle visible on the other side; fully embedded to the hilt. Strange that he didn’t see it immediately. The colonel’s hands began to lift to his neck, but never quite reached it as he stiffened up, and clumsily crumpled to the planking with a heavy thud. The body lay still.
Heinrich knew of only one man who could have thrown the knife that accurately. He looked over to his men standing together. He was gratefully indebted to Diego for saving his life. How would this play out with Captain Hennessey?
Loud murmurs and voices erupted from the crowded decks as sailors talked excitedly. The marines had their hands’ full staving back the crowd of sailors wanting closer looks at the scene. Captain Hennessey shouted out commands to get the crew to back off and away. Lt. O’Shea echoed the commands to officers and marines. It took a while to get the crew moving. The men wanted to see the final result of this entire episode.
The sound of boots came closer as the ship’s surgeon made it to the fallen man. More boot sounds and a group of men approached. Drope saw Hennessey, O’Shea, and a few others he didn’t know. He was suddenly surrounded by his own four men as Anton and Reiner began checking his wounds as he leaned against the bulwark. Lieutenant Collins was on his knees frantically talking to the surgeon. Through the din, Heinrich was certain he heard the words, “The colonel is dead. There’s nothing I can do for him.”
“There must be something you can do for him,” Collins was heard saying more out of shock seeing his commanding officer lying there, and feeling helpless.
“Lieutenant, the man is dead; gone forever. He is done for.”
He heard Bruno beckoning the surgeon to see about Drope. The doctor came forward and tried to squeeze through. Anton came to his full height blocking him in his ever-protective posture.
“Anton, let the man by. He will take care of the captain’s wounds,” Bruno said. Anton hesitantly stepped aside, but took up a position on Heinrich’s side, while looking for any potential threat. As the surgeon began to attend to Drope’s cuts, Captain Hennessey came up to him and took a knee. Heinrich glanced up at the man and found him staring intensely into his eyes. Heinrich felt he was being thoroughly scrutinized.
“I tossed my knife down ending the duel, captain. He agreed it had ended. I didn’t know he meant to finish me off.”
Hennessey still stared hard at him thinking the entire incident through. Drope tried to look innocent, but he could tell the captain was not a stupid man. He hoped however that the man would still be reasonable and fair.
“Who are you really, Captain Drope?”
Heinrich was at a loss for words with that direct question. He paused a bit developing his thoughts.
“It is a simple question. Hmm, have you misrepresented yourself to me and the colonel, captain?” urged on Hennessey.
“I am as I stated already, sir. I am master of a merchant ship, and nothing more. If I stated something beyond that position, I would be lying. I am not a rogue; just a simple seaman.”
“From what we have witnessed here today, a simple seaman you are not. What are you leaving out?”
Heinrich clenched his teeth to stifle the pain of his wounds as he was being treated, and cringed a bit more from the uneasiness of Hennessey’s pointed questions.
“I wish to prevent my crewmen from any sort of false accusations and foulness, captain. It is my responsible duty as their captain to protect them from being singled out as an outlandish lot of sea scum, which they are not. For some reason, the colonel assumed we were disingenuous. That is not the case. We are mere sailors who only yearn to eke out a living ferrying product between the Caribbean and the American states. What we do is perfectly legitimate.”
Hennessey nodded thoughtfully, but still not completely assured of who this fellow and his crew were.
“I have the strong notion after hearing your tirade against the colonel, and seeing your command of the sword that there is much more to you than meets the eye. You are not a timid man at all. You have a certain quality about you that did not come through at first until Thomas pushed you. And the way your man here,” as he pointed directly to Diego, who was silently listening to their conversation from a few feet away but furtively looking about the ship, “saved your life by the most incredible knife throw anyone would conclude from a distance of over thirty feet. I don’t know how you can explain that feat. He was either extremely lucky to hit his mark or he must be a circus performer. Which is it?”
“He is neither. He is a man extremely proficient with a knife. There is no law against that. Sir, I do not mean to come off disrespectful nor unscrupulous. I assure you that I strive to be a man of integrity and honor. Yes, I am indeed a merchant mariner as are my men. I have also observed you, captain. I find you a man of decency, fairness, and uprightness of character. I am not about to try to fool a man who is quite astute as you are.”
“Let us cut through the rhetoric, shall we? Not only are you adept at fighting skills, yet also merciful. Your crew is fortunate to have such a benevolent captain to sacrifice himself up for his men. I cannot think of even one man who could have lasted as long as you did against the colonel. The man has the repute of being one of the best swordsmen in the British empire. You did not shy away from fighting him. You also played with
him some. Although your antics perhaps played a part in upsetting the colonel’s focus, his pistol shot hitting your weapon had to be pure luck. No other way to explain that. But you missing the shot was too suspect for me to believe.”
“I was quite shocked at that myself. I can only assume the pistol was damaged after it had been hit by of the colonel’s shot. As far as my actions regarding him; that is easy to explain. I do not particularly like bullies, captain. Please forgive me that I found the colonel an obnoxious and arrogant man. I tried to deal with him with reason, but he wouldn’t have it. You heard every word that was spoken between us. I have nothing to hide. I try to mind my own business with as graceful of manners possible. Instead of being rational and fair, he was belligerent in every way.”
“All right, that is fair enough. I mentioned before to you that your schooner looks more like a warship to me with the amount of armament. Have you been brutally honest to me about those being onboard when you initially took command of the ship?”
“Most definitely, captain; I told you the truth. We cannot, however, utilize all of them because I do not have enough men who know how to fire them. They have come in handy I must tell you. We have had our share of bad luck running into a few … let me say, ships of questionable character. That is why we as a crew are well armed for defensive purposes.”
Captain Hennessey vaguely nodded. “A private man of war, I see. And you assure me that those times have been solely for defensive purposes, not as a privateer?”
“That is true, sir; only when forced to defend ourselves. I assure you we are not pirates or privateers, captain. We are a peaceful bunch. We would rather leave all the dangers to your vaunted navy, but as you well know, the Caribbean is, after all, a perilous place, as Colonel Thomas himself stated.”
“Captain Drope, there is a warrant out on a large schooner closely resembling your ship sailing these waters, and that ship fired on a British naval ship as she tried to signal to board it. Any recollection about that, captain?” Hennessey dropped the gauntlet on Heinrich.
Winds of Fury Page 54