Pirates of Savannah: The Complete Trilogy - Colonial Historical Fiction Action Adventure (Pirates of Savannah (Adult Version))

by Tarrin P. Lupo

  “What do you think, my quartermaster?” April questioned Patrick.

  “Of course,” he replied, “I want to stay and get a chance to kill Kingsley for what he has done, but that is my heart talking and not my brain. I would not put the lives of my friends and neighbors at stake for my lust for revenge.”

  Isaac injected, “I agree, had Kingsley is an evil man who the world would thank us to rid them of, but I have to throw my vote in with Sam. We should run.”

  The consensus around the table was to remain safe over profit. For the first time ever, people had experienced freedom and had already gotten hooked on their new way life. They would do anything to remain this free.

  “Experience tells me we better at least have a backup plan. My wolf, you will be in charge of our strategy in case we have no choice. It is decided. We make one last run to Cape Fear and then we sail to South America, for a little time. I will inform the crew tonight,” April stated with authority.

  The crew unloaded the crates of illegal muskets to the purchasing parties at Cape Fear. They took their payments and explained it would be awhile before they could deliver more guns. They cast off and headed down the coastline at full sail. A fishing vessel intercepted them and delivered a message. Kingsley knew their location and they were told they better prepare. The admiral knew she could not just take to open sea because eventually Kingsley’s ship would overtake them. She thought, We're going to have to fight him eventually. We should fight him on our terms.

  * * *

  “So this is where we make our stand? This cove has lots of great hiding places, but it is a dead end. There is no way out if your plan does not work,” April said nervously, thinking aloud. “They call this place Long Bay. A few families own this land but most people call it Myrtle Swash because of all those Southern Wax Myrtles. A couple of us pirates used to call it ‘Myrtle Beach’. Almost nobody is out here. It should be remote enough for what we need to do. Plus, it has a sandbar over there for what you need to do.”

  “Everyone is in position. If this goes right, none of us will have to fire one cannon,” Patrick replied.

  Isaac interrupted, “Admiral, man-of-war approaching. She is just coming into view. Do you want to send out the jolly boat and terms to meet them?”

  April’s breasts heaved as she breathed in deep. “Aye!” she commanded.

  Sam nervously rowed the small boat out toward the man-of-war. As he got closer, he ran up a white flag and waited off its starboard side. “I seek audience with Commander Byron Kingsley,” he yelled.

  The soldiers on deck kept their muskets trained on him while they mustered Kingsley. An officer claiming to be Byron Kingsley shouted down to Sam.

  Patrick watched nervously as Sam rowed back to the Vendetta. The bow-legged sailor climbed some netting that was draped over the side of ship and made his way to Patrick. “You were right, he is an arrogant piece of shit and took your challenge. He accepted the duel and his terms are single combat without seconds. He chose a traditional night duel with blade and lantern. He will meet you on the sand bar an hour after sunset. If you win, the Vendetta is free to go. If you lose, we will surrender the Vendetta." Sam concluded grimly, “And Patrick, there will be no quarter given.”

  “I am grateful for the duel, but I am not happy he chose sword and lantern. I am not as good of a swordsman as I want to be,” Patrick murmured.

  April hugged her husband and comforted him, “Be brave. Remember what I told you, sword fighting is mainly about stamina. Whoever gets tired first dies.”

  She ran her hand across his groin and reminded him, “Now, I know you have excellent stamina, my wolf!”

  The crew rallied around Patrick as April gave him some last minute tips on fighting in sand and how to use a lantern for defense and attack. After drilling, Patrick wanted to be alone in his quarters to get focused. April sat as she watched her husband shave off his beard. As he carefully guided his large hunting knife across his battle worn face he spoke, “I only grow this beard because my face makes most people uncomfortable. The scars used to really annoy me, but now I am older and I have learned to just accept who I am. This face is part of me and I need to just be comfortable in my own skin. I am tired of hiding my face because of other people’s feelings, fuck them! If I am to die tonight, I will die how I want to look!” Patrick reflected. “Well, it is smart to shave it off before battle. The Romans used to do the same thing so their enemies could not grab it in a fight. You look so nervous, husband. Come lay with me on this bed and I will relax you.” She climbed on top of him and gave her husband a proper send off.

  As the sun set, Isaac distracted himself by watching two small fishing vessels off in the distance. He was very worried about his best friend, as was the rest of the crew. His life now depended on Patrick’s mediocre swordsman skills against a lifetime soldier.

  The new quartermaster emerged from the captain’s quarters slowly savoring every step. There was a good chance this was the last hour of his life and he was trying desperately to slow it down. His friends encircled him and hugged him. They all knew he was taking an enormous risk to keep his crewmates safe.

  “This be one of the finest cutlasses ever made. I have taken eight souls with this blade and it has absorbed their powers. You will fight with the strength of eight men and it will protect you,” April said before she kissed him on the cheek and handed over her blade. The cutlass had a shorter blade, thick and curved. It had many notches in the edge from striking blades and bones. The hilt had an ornate sword guard shaped like an octopus. Its tentacles came down and wrapped around a large ruby encrusted pommel. Etched in the blade was a picture of April’s black cat to add to the luck of the sword. The cutlass seemed more a work of art than a weapon.

  “I added extra wick and oil to this lamp so it should give you the advantage of more light. Just remember to watch your foot work and you will do great, old friend,” Isaac smiled and handed Patrick the lantern.

  It was time. Patrick said goodbye once more and climbed down to the jolly boat. The crew watched in anticipation as the lantern on the boat slowly grew dimmer and dimmer as it drifted further away. Patrick's mind was racing with what-ifs as he slowly rowed to the sandbar. What if Kingsley thrusts high right? What is the correct response if he parries down left? He knew he had to settle his mind and focus as he approached. True to his word, Byron was already on the sandbar waiting.

  “Ah, took your time coming to your funeral, boy! You’re a troublesome cuss. I have been trying to catch up with you for some time now,” Byron yelled to Patrick.

  Patrick cautiously and slowly stepped on to the damp sandbar. He tested his footing in the wet sand. His bare foot stuck. This was promising he thought. It should even the odds in Patrick's favor if Kingsley cannot be quick with his foot work. Courage filled the amateur swordsman as he stepped closer.

  “You’re a blight on this world, Kingsley. I hope Archibald can piss on you from heaven while you get raped by the devil dogs,” he baited.

  Kingsley answered Patrick’s insult by stepping closer into the light of the lanterns. He was still wearing his standard issue red coat made by the famous South Carolina Independent Company. He chose to fight with his military hanger. It was a long, thick, straight hunting sword with a double-edged blade and a simple hilt, a very popular style blade in Savannah.

  As the men approached each other, both ships exploded with cheering. Although tough to make out details in the darkness, the crews could clearly see the duelers’ silhouettes in the moon and lantern light.

  The final duel on the sandbar

  Bryon gave no more warning and ran at Patrick. The new quartermaster planted his feet and braced for the blow. "Clang! Clang! Clang!" The sounds of steel clashing rang out over the waters to thunderous cheering. It was already hard to see and Byron was swinging his lamp by Patrick's head, wrecking his night vision. The pirate focused hard to keep track of the blade in the darkness. The inexperienced swordsman knew he made a mistake the m
oment he got off on his footwork. Kingsley feigned to the left and Patrick parried too hard. This shifted his weight and presented his right side exposed. The soldier took advantage of the rookie mistake by slicing him across the ribs.

  Patrick’s side burned with pain, but he refused to let it distract him. The pain woke him up and reminded him to stick to April’s training. It was then that he decided to stop trying to fight like a gentleman and fight like a pirate. He changed his style to that of a good, bare-knuckled swordsman and pushed in tight. The pirate locked blades with the redcoat and swung his sword guard into the soldier’s teeth. A spray of blood erupted to thunderous cheers.

  Bryon focused his anger and turned to Patrick with a mad flurry of skilled strikes. The rookie answered the fast blows with parries until the last slash broke the tip off his cutlass. A shard of broken blade pierced his right eye. Patrick recoiled in pain and swung wildly, backing up. Kingsley was amused by this and taunted his crippled foe. He attacked the blind side thigh, dropping Patrick to his knee with a scream of pain. The pirate dragged himself backwards as Byron nicked his right arm and laughed. The arrogant solider stopped to admire his work, enjoying the sight of blood rolling out of Patrick’s eye, leg, chest, and arm.

  “I want to drag this out more boy, but my men are anxious to hang your crew. To your credit, you did last longer than Archibald, so good show. We are going to have a good time poking your captain before we...AHHHHHH!”

  Kingsley ran for the water as Patrick reached out with his broken cutlass and sliced through the commander's Achilles tendon. Archibald’s murderer immediately fell, yet continued crawling for the water. The pirate crawled after him and sliced the burning man across the ass. Bryon rolled into the water, dousing the flames, as his dueling partner continued to crawl after him. Patrick made no speech nor said a clever curse before extinguishing the soldier’s life. He brutally skull-bashed Kingsley with the ruby encrusted pommel. The pommel fell multiple times to the cheers of the Vendetta’s crew until Bryon’s face was no longer recognizable as human. The exhausted Patrick sliced the throat of the corpse to ensure he was dead.

  A faint cracking sound could be heard and then the victorious man noticed the sand exploded next to his leg. Another musket shot rang out from the man-of-war and splashed into the water. The woozy Patrick slid into the water and dove under as more shots rained down on his position.

  “Lying bastards! Bring us in! Man the cannons!” April commanded.

  She turned to Audrey Scott, “You are the only one strong enough at swimming to save me husband. Take some bandages and go save him please!”

  “I am not a surgeon but I will do what I can.” She grabbed a small medical pouch and dove off the Vendetta.

  “Nina, when I let go and board, I need you to hold this helm straight. Do you understand?”

  Nina barked back, “Aye, Admiral!”

  The Vendetta had never anchored and was now dropping its sails. The crew knew they had to be very close or the cannon balls would never punch through the tough hull of the man-of-war. Both crews scrambled to their stations. “Can you get a clear cannon site to their bow? It is our only hope to stop this ship,” April questioned Sam.

  “It’s going to be close, Admiral. It depends how drilled their crew be,” Sam shouted back as he frantically helped April steer the Vendetta into proper position.

  “We only are going to have one shot at this! Let us wait,” she shouted calmly.

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Three cannons on the man-of-war fired. Two shots overshot the deck ripping through some sails while one struck a jolly boat tied to the side of the ship blowing it to shivers.

  “Finally, the cannons are in line! Fire!" the Admiral screamed. The order was repeated across the deck. Shockwaves cracked through the air as large gray puffs of smoke filled the space between the vessels. When the smoke cleared, the bow was smashed in some but it was still holding.

  “Damn, she is a strong barky. Reload!" April barked.

  The Vendetta’s long musket men were perched in the riggings. They started taking long shots at the British deck officers and struck two down.

  The man-of-war’s retaliation was terrible. Multiple cannons tore through the Vendetta. The main mast was keeling and pulling the ship over. Multiple holes were blown in the side of the smaller vessel and a few of the Vendetta's snipers in the tops fell to their death. The British had no intention of capturing this ship. They were firing to sink it.

  “Damn it! If we don’t punch a hole in that bow, it won’t take them much time to out maneuver us. Where is everyone else?” April wondered aloud.

  Nobody had paid any attention to the two inconspicuous small fishing ketches that had sailed into position. They unveiled their cannons, which had hidden under piles of nets. “The Vendetta softened her bow up, lads! Let’s punch through!" Captain K.T Brewer shouted.

  “Oui! Viva Liberte!” Captain Robert Deaux shouted.

  The Black Hound and the Mary Read fired their four cannons together. The sight of shivers and planks of wood filled the air as the crews of the tiny vessels celebrated. They finally punched a small hole in the bow of the British ship.

  “Fire!” was repeated on the deck of the Vendetta as the cannons focused their fire power on the exposed hole. Shouts of terror came from the belly of the British vessel as a section of gunners were blown apart.

  In all the excitement, the crew was too busy to notice another vessel approaching from her backside. The Robin had quietly hidden behind a small island in the cove, waiting to make her move in the dark. Their stealthy approach was easy due to the confusion of the battling at night.

  The Robin sneaks into position during the night battle

  Shamus shouted, “Clear dere decks wit da g’damn grape shots, lasses!”

  Heather, Mari Anna, and Prudence worked together aiming the small deck cannons of the Robin. The twins and the girls' families all manned the other cannons in teams. The group lit the war irons simultaneously. To the soldiers’ surprise and confusion, many of the bloody backs on the decks where cut down by the brutal shower of shot.

  April nodded at Sam as he swung the wheel hard. The Vendetta’s stern drifted quickly next to the enemy vessel. The fast movement caused the Vendetta's teetering mast to crash down upon the British ship’s deck, crushing two of its members to death.

  The admiral pulled out Mary Read’s Swedish Boarding Axe Pistol and screamed, “Boarding parties!” Grappling hooks flew in from all directions as the four vessels latched onto the man-of-war. Cannon fire rocked the Vendetta at such close range and her crew screamed. She had many holes, but none were yet low enough to have her take on water.

  Isaac led the charge from the Vendetta with a blunderbuss in each of his hands. He fired both guns down the gangplank they had dropped, clearing out a group of five unsuspecting British soldiers. He then picked up a spent musket and stuck his plug bayonet into the end of the gun. The dagger had a tapered end and slid into the barrel with a tight fit to make a lethal spear. He stabbed any fallen English soldier posing a threat, clearing a space on the deck for others to follow. The bayonet quickly got stuck in a redcoat’s rib cage. The hulking man switched over to the boarding tomahawk the injured Indian had given him and he continued whirling around the crowded deck dropping bodies. The rest of the British crew was too busy to notice that Shamus and a group of whores were boarding from the Robin as well.

  Miss. Darden used a linstock to light the fuse to her cast iron ball that was packed with gunpowder and shot. The whoremaster then rolled the grenade down the stairs to the lower decks. Shouts of pain were heard below deck as it exploded. The other whores followed suit and dropped their grenades in any hatch they could find. As Margie dropped her grenade down a hatch, a redcoat hit her across the head with his musket butt. As he lifted his firelock over his head to deliver a deathblow, his chest exploded with red. The dizzy woman looked up to see the man whose life she spared had just returned the favor, fatally shooting her assailant before he
could ever deliver that final blow to her head.

  In an intoxicated stupor, Shamus threw a grenade onto a closed hatch. By the time he realized his drunken mistake, it was too late and the bomb went off. He looked down to find out why his foot would not move and noticed it was no longer there. He fell over in shock.

  An angry lobster back officer swung his sword at Teresa’s head. She barely ducked the blow but fell on the ground. When she looked back up she saw the soldier stumbling backwards with two arrow shafts sticking out of his chest. Amos and his twin had both made unbelievable shots with their hunting bows from the Robin.

  African warriors had already run across the downed mast of the Vendetta and were swarming the deck in droves. The English shot a few with their muskets, but were poorly matched against their melee fighting skills. Very few foes could withstand their up-close spear fighting. Even with such a crowded deck, the warriors were able to skewer the redcoats with great agility.

  April and Sam stormed aboard with the ex-slaves and headed below deck. Sam had a string of four pistols tied around his neck and would rotate them as he fired. He covered April's backside while she charged down the stairs. The admiral cleared the hall with a vicious spray of shot from her axe pistol. An unfortunate soldier turned the corner and the lady pirate buried the spike of the axe pistol into his chest. The vicious metal point went in so deep that she could not recover the weapon. The swordswoman changed over to cutlass and main gauche. April had killed many men in the past with this two-handed style. The main gauche was perfect for the tight quarters below deck because it was a short, thin, left-handed stabbing blade with a large hilt and hand guard.

  She quickly found herself ambushed by two attackers which would mean a quick death to most. April knew that very few swordsmen practiced attacking in pairs and she could turn their inexperience against them. The admiral knew that with some basic maneuvering she could use them to get in each other’s way and open up an easy opportunity. Her opponents found themselves hitting each other with parries and knocking each other off balance. April’s attackers stepped on each other's feet knocking them both off kilter. With a double thrust using both hands, the two men simultaneously fell in pain and she quickly cut them down.