The Seahorse

by Michael Aye

  Seeing Alejandro, Paco spoke to him in Spanish. He was the only one on board who still used the youth’s full name and had not shortened it to Ally. “What do you think little one? Will you stay in St. Augustine with your papa or sail away with el capitaine?”

  “I will stay with the captain of course.”

  “Good,” Paco replied. “It is as it should be.”

  “Land ho!”

  “Where away?” Lavery called.

  “Off the larboard beam,” the lookout responded.

  Gunnells looked up from his chart and said, “That ought to be the Bahamas.”

  Gabe nodded but said nothing.

  “I’d have thought the privateers would have struck by now,” Lieutenant Wiley volunteered.

  “I’m not surprised,” Gabe responded. “They don’t have to travel as far if they wait until we’re closer.”

  “Aye,” Lavery joined in. “I recall Governor Tonyn telling of a convoy being taken right at the entrance of the St. Augustine bay.”

  “Well, one way or another,” Gunnells said, joining in the conversation. “They don’t have long to make up their minds or we’ll be headed back.”

  “I hope so,” Gabe said to himself.

  ***

  “Captain…Captain…It’s almost dawn, sir.”

  Gabe stretched, yawned, and sat up. He could hear Nesbit rattling around in the pantry getting his breakfast together. Pulling on the seaman’s slops he wore at sea, he reached for his boot. In doing so the tiny leather patch he wore around his neck fell forward. He touched it and put it back inside his shirt.

  “Faith, Faith, I won’t be long,” he said under his breath. The leather pouch used to hold a large red ruby. Faith had the ruby now but he wore the pouch as a symbol of an empty heart when they were not together. Gabe ran his hand through his hair and found it damp. His entire body was damp. Was it sweat or fear? He got his other boot on and tugged on his coat.

  Dagan entered the cabin just as Gabe sat at his table. Nesbit had a cup of coffee waiting and poured another when he saw Dagan.

  Eyeing Dagan, Gabe said, “Today’s the day.”

  “Aye,” Dagan replied. “I feel it.”

  A red haze filled the sky as Peregrine pushed northward. The sea was lively and spray came over the fo’c’sle as the bow dipped into a trough and then plowed through a wave.

  “Good morning, Mr Lavery, Mr Gunnells.”

  “Morning, Captain,” the two replied in unison.

  “We have a strong wind, Mr Gunnells.”

  “Aye, Captain. East by sou-east she be and lively at that.”

  “I don’t like the look of the sky,” Gabe said.

  “Me neither, Captain, but the barometer is holding steady.”

  As the sun rose the sky got redder. The ship is strangely silent today, Gabe thought. Not the usual jabber as men started their day. Maybe they feel it too, Gabe thought.

  Once again it was Ally, the one with the good ears, who volunteered, “Gunfire, sir. I hear gunfire.”

  “Is the damn lookout asleep?” Gabe snapped, instantly regretting his behavior.

  Lavery took the hint and called up to the lookout.

  “I’s can’t see a thing, sir, sun is blazing down so.”

  Dagan started toward the shrouds but Lieutenant Davy beat him. “I’ll go, Dagan,” he said.

  Dagan handed him a glass and said, “Shade the lens with your hand.”

  Upon hearing Dagan’s advice, Lieutenant Davy fairly flew up to the mainmast lookout. “It’s the convoy all right,” Davy shouted down. “It’s being attacked from all quarters.”

  “Took advantage of the early morning sun,” Gunnells volunteered.

  “Aye,” Gabe acknowledged. “Set all sail, Mr Lavery, then beat to quarters. Let’s hope we are not too late to be of assistance. Let’s get out of the way, Dagan,” he said as he headed for the companionway.

  Entering the cabin, Nesbit said, “I took the liberty of adding a bit to the coffee.”

  Taking the cup Gabe could taste the unmistakable taste of brandy. Nesbit offered Dagan a cup as Gabe said, “He’s been talking to Silas I see.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A knock at the door and the sentry announced, “Midshipman Hawks, zur.”

  Hawks entered the cabin to find Gabe sitting at his table, coffee cup in his hand, legs stretched out and crossed. He was talking to Dagan as if it was Sunday make and mend. Damme if he ain’t a cool one, Hawks thought.

  “Yes, Mr Hawks, did you come down to get out of the sun or do you have a message for me?”

  “No, sir…I mean yes, sir. First Lieutenant’s compliments, sir, and we have identified six privateers.”

  “I see,” Gabe answered, his legs still stretched out and cup in hand.

  “Does the first lieutenant require me on deck?” Gabe asked, toying with the young gentleman.

  Hawk appeared to be deep in thought then answered, “He didn’t say anything about you coming on deck, sir. He only said that there are six privateers.”

  “Was there any mention as to size or guns?” Gabe asked.

  “No, sir, only Lieutenant Davy said the one was the big bastard we tangled with recently.”

  “Ahem! Tell the first lieutenant I’ll be on deck directly.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Once the boy was out the door Gabe turned to Dagan. “So it’s Montique.”

  “It’s his ship at least,” Dagan replied.

  Once on deck the gunfire was plainly heard and the ships could be seen from the deck.

  “Looks like Intrepid has her hands full.”

  “Aye,” Lavery replied. “Lizard and Alert are under heavy attack as well. Odds are definitely in the rogue’s favour at this point.”

  “How much longer before we can engage?”

  “Another quarter hour at least,” Gunnells answered his captain.

  “Call for the gunner.”

  “Aye,” Lieutenant Lavery answered and the call for Druett went up.

  When the gunner arrived Gabe said, “The master has said it’d be fifteen minutes before we are in range. With you sighting the bow chasers I’m betting ten. Pick out your closest target and fire when ready.”

  The burly gunner knuckled his forehead in salute and said, “I’ll see’s you win that bet, Captain.”

  Hearing the distant boom of the guns, Gabe could see the big privateer firing at Intrepid. The sixty-four was holding its own…for now. But how long before Lizard or Alert was taken? At any time another ship could join in the battle against either of them. Gabe could see Lavery looking at his watch.

  Anxious to join the battle, Gabe thought.

  Paco was now on deck with his sword and pistols. Gabe tucked the pistols in his waistband and held up his arms for Paco to put on his sword belt.

  Hearing Dagan chuckle, Gabe asked, “Something funny?”

  “Aye,” Dagan answered. “I recalled His Lordship when he was a captain jamming his pistols home and accidentally cocking one. Bart told him to be careful like or Lady Deborah would never forgive him if he shot off his wedding tackle.”

  “I remember,” Gabe said, laughing.

  “’Ear that bucko,” a topman said to his mate. “Way the cap’n’s carrying on you’d think we was going to watch a parade. He’s a cool un, that one is.”

  The crash of the larboard bow chaser caused the crew to let go with a cheer. The other gun crews were wrapping neckerchiefs around their ears, knowing it wouldn’t be long now and they’d be in action. Another crash forward as the starboard bow chaser went off.

  “Just short,” the lookout called down. Then added, “But they know we’s here.”

  “Mr Gunnells!”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Set your course to bear down on those two attacking Alert. Hawks!”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Run tell Druett I want a steady barrage on those ships attacking Alert.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “
The big privateer has broken off from Intrepid,” Dagan said.

  Taking a moment to look through his glass, Gabe said, “I see.”

  “They should have gone after the supply ships,” Gunnells said. “Half could have played cat and mouse with the escorts while the others boarded and put prize crews aboard the merchantmen.”

  “I’m damn glad you aren’t in command of the rogues,” Gabe said. Then he continued, “No, that way they’d get a few but, if they could cripple Intrepid and take Lizard and Alert, they could have the whole convoy.”

  “Aye, you are right,” Gunnells replied.

  A ripple of bright orange flames erupted from the large privateer. Balls landed just short of Peregrine.

  “A narrow miss,” Gunnells grunted, wiping spray from his face to the snicker of the helmsman.

  Seeing the privateer’s full press of sails, Gabe ordered, “Let her fall off two points, Mr Gunnells.”

  Gabe then cupped his hands and shouted to Lieutenant Davy down in the waist. “On the up roll, Lieutenant Davy. As you bear! Fire!”

  From bow to stern, Peregrine’s guns fired, reloaded, and fired again, smoke drifting windward as flames belched from the gun ports. The gun captains yelling encouragement and instructions, the trucks squealed as the gun crews heaved with all their might to reload as fast as possible. Through the smoke, the privateer’s captain altered course and fired a haphazard broadside.

  Ragged the broadside may have been but nevertheless just as deadly. Gabe gritted his teeth as the deck shook violently when the enemy’s balls slammed into the ship. Eyeing the privateer it appeared to Gabe he was trying to change course and give his guns on the larboard side, the least damaged side, a chance to fire.

  “Alter course to larboard,” Gabe said sharply.

  “Checkmate, you rogue,” Gabe exclaimed as the privateer’s captain tried to change course to edge around him so that he could bring his guns to bear.

  “She’s in stays…she’s in stays,” Gunnells shouted as he hopped up and down.

  Again Peregrine’s guns fired. Gabe felt the deck shaking as her guns recoiled. A loud crash was heard on the privateer as the mainmast came down. The ship slewed to starboard and Wiley said, “Her wheel’s shot away.”

  From forward a cheer had risen. Druett had maintained his barrage as ordered and the privateer on the larboard quarter of Alert was breaking off.

  “Sir!” Wiley exclaimed. “Look, sir.”

  A white flag went up what was left of the enemy ship’s mizzenmast. The sound of cannons was heard only after Peregrine’s hull bucked sharply. The forward mast spar dangled to starboard and lengths of rope, tackle, and cordage fell. Some of the heavy pieces cut through the spread nets, narrowly missing a gun crew.

  Another of the privateers had made its way through the gun smoke, filling the gap between Peregrine and the open waters.

  “Damme,” Gabe bellowed. “Mr Davy to the starboard.”

  Gabe heard the sound of the marines firing from the main tops. He could also make out the bangs from the swivels, all of which was quickly drowned out by the deafening roar of Peregrine’s starboard broadside.

  Walking around so as to not make himself an easy target, Gabe saw waterspouts bracketing Lizard on both sides. Musket balls thudded into the planking on the quarterdeck. A cry at the wheel and one of the helmsman was hit in the throat. He tried to call out but only made a gurgling sound. Gunnells quickly took his place at the wheel only to snatch his hand away as if stung by a wasp. He changed hands holding onto the wheel until another helmsman was called. Stepping over his downed mate, his face was a ghastly green but he took over for the master without a word.

  “Go below,” Gabe ordered.

  But Gunnells replied, “Begging the captain’s pardon there will be time enough for that later.”

  Dagan took his neckerchief and tied off the wound as well as he could. All around the den of battle raged on. Every gun that could bear was being fired. The red sky was gone, darkened by the gray haze of battle smoke. Peregrine’s confined world was filled with the thundering hell of cannons blazing, earsplitting screams from the wounded that caused a shiver to run down the spine, and streams of curses as the gun captains yelled at the battle-crazed gun crews.

  There was the bitter taste of spent gunpowder as cannons roared…then silence. The guns had ceased firing. Had he given the word, Gabe wondered. The last ship was now ablaze. Intrepid had sunk one and captured another. Lizard had fought off one of its opponents. It now drifted low down in the water. The other had tried to escape but was stopped by Peregrine. Alert was still grappled to one but the British flag flew over the vessel. The other privateer still flew the white flag and like its sister ship drifted without steerage. A cheer went up on Alert, causing a chain reaction to each of the other ships.

  “Silence,” Lavery snapped, but he was unheard. Feeling a hand on his arm, he turned to find his captain.

  “Let them cheer,” Gabe said. “They deserve it.” Then turning he called, “Mr Gunnells!”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Have one of your mates lay us alongside yonder privateer. I intend to board her and I don’t feel like climbing down into my gig.”

  “Aye,” Gunnells replied. “Alongside we’ll be.”

  “Mr Lavery, round up the warrants and let’s have a damage report. Once we have everything under control, pipe up spirits.”

  Hearing this, the men began cheering again.

  ***

  The deck of the privateer was in complete shambles. As Gabe, Dagan, and a boarding party crossed over, they found carnage and destruction everywhere they looked. A lieutenant led Gabe to the ship’s captain, who was slumped against the bulwark. Gabe could instantly see the man was in a bad way.

  “Do you not have a surgeon?” he asked.

  The wounded captain said, “A surgeon is for the living, not for the dead. I fear, Captain, I will soon be with the latter.”

  Looking to the young officer, the privateer’s captain said, “My sword, Jean.”

  Gabe felt strangely emotional looking down at the dying captain. He took a deep breath and said, “I could never take it sir. You fought a most honourable battle.”

  “It was not so when we last met. But rest assured, monsieur, it was not of my making. I don’t want to die dishonourably so I tell you, Capitaine, it was Montique. He is the son of Satan. He is at this moment on a small merchantman sailing to Antigua.” The captain started coughing then died.

  The young lieutenant wiped tears from his eyes and said, “He was my father.”

  Gabe straightened up and looked at the captain’s son. “Your father died with honour. Put his sword in a place of honour.”

  “Oui, monsieur, but I’m afraid I will not find such a place. We fight under a Letter of Marque but it’s my understanding the British do not accept this.”

  “This time we will if you will give me your parole…on your father’s honour.”

  “I give it, monsieur.”

  “Good. Do you think you can get this ship seaworthy?”

  “Oui.”

  “Then I bid you good-by, sir.”

  Once back on the deck of Peregrine, Gabe ordered the helmsman to lie alongside Intrepid.

  “Paco!”

  “Aye.”

  “Prepare my gig.”

  Gabe then turned to Dagan, “You heard.”

  “I heard,” Dagan answered. “But first things first. He’s got a full day’s head start. You could rip the sticks out of Peregrine and still never catch him. Lum is there. He knows Montique. He’ll protect Faith.”

  “Aye,” Gabe answered in a dejected manner. “You’re right.”

  I wish I felt that way, Dagan thought.

  ***

  Captain Thomas Fletcher stood at the entry port when Gabe was piped aboard Intrepid. The two had only met a few times but Fletcher had been told he was more than capable and had earned his captaincy…unlike some. He’d also been told the admiral was very fon
d of his young brother. It was this that made Fletcher keep silent when Gabe apologized for being presumptuous in accepting the privateer’s parole.

  Gabe had said that with the convoy scattered, the escort ships being in a bad way, and Peregrine sailing under independent orders from the admiral, he didn’t think Fletcher would want his resources to be further stretched by having to watch over a bunch of prisoners. “That ship is nothing more than a leaky old tube that may founder at any minute,” Gabe had added. This part had been true.

  Fletcher still felt the need to assert himself as the senior officer while trying not to offend Gabe so as to have the admiral look upon him in a bad light.

  “I quite agree with your thinking, Captain Anthony, but in the future discuss such matters with me before giving your word.”

  “Naturally sir,” Gabe said, trying to sound contrite. “It was your reputation I was thinking of when I acted so. I didn’t want it said one of Admiral Anthony’s captains allowed a convoy to be lost while he played shepherd over a bunch of prisoners.”

  “You again are correct, Captain. Now I must attend gathering the convoy,” Fletcher said. “So I’ll see you to the side.”

  I bet you will, Gabe thought. We saved your arse and you know it. Gabe then thought, No. Gil saved your arse. He was the suspicious one. He was the one that planned it all. Damme, Gabe thought again, but Gil was a smart one. Humph! That’s why he’s flying an admiral flag.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adam Montique, alias John Miller, sat in the stern sheets of the brig’s boat as it headed for the dock. He’d taken transportation on the little brig, Hope, when it sailed from San Juan. He’d also brought along two of his handymen…men that would slit their mother’s throat for a few shillings. He’d promised them the freedom to have their way with Faith. She had shunned all of his advances back in Beaufort. In fact it was because of her…her and that damnable British bastard she married that caused him to flee for his life.

  She had cost him a fortune. He’d had a good system set up. He would raid British ships and sell the contents to the Colonies. Then he would raid the Colonial ships and sell his gains to the British. It had been easy.