Michael Aye - Barracuda

"Steer small, blast you," Merlin's master hissed at the man. Merlin yawed then was instantly corrected.

The frigate's transom was now level with Merlin's jib boom. A heavy thump, then the scraping and grinding of wood as the two ships came together.

"Boarders away, boarders away," Earl was calling when he saw Bart and Lord Anthony, pistol in one hand and blade in the other.

"My Lord," he cried, "It's not for you to be boarding, sir."

Touched, but not amazed at Earl's sincerity, Anthony answered, "I must lead by example Stephen, you most of all should realize that."

"Aye, my Lord," Earl muttered as he stepped aside.

"Don't yew worry none, cap'n," Bart spoke as he passed, "I's protecting 'im."

"Humph! You can't protect yourself so how are you to protect me?" Anthony asked.

"I's will, don't yews be worrying how, jus' knows I will."

The flash of powder as muskets and pistols fired continued all around. Realizing they were now being assaulted on two fronts the privateers were now fighting like madmen. Cutlasses flashed amid cries of anguish and pain. Bart discharged his pistol into a man's rotund belly as the man jabbed at Lord Anthony with a boarding pike.

Earl aimed at what appeared to be an officer and squeezed the trigger. As the man went down he put the fired pistol in his waistband and shifted his other pistol to his right hand. When he spotted another target, he aimed, held his breath for a second then fired. When the second man collapsed he took his sword and joined into the fight.

The privateers were now tiring. They'd all but won the battle with LeFrelon when Merlin joined in. A small half-crazed man screaming profanities was skewered by Lord Anthony's blade. He dropped the axe he had been carrying and bolted toward a ladder, before dropping to the deck, letting out a final bloodcurdling profane scream.

Earl, who was by Lord Anthony looked at the admiral and declared, "Blasphemy, by Gawd."

"Damnation," Bart cried. "Look!"

Knight was in the midst of a melee. The man could be heard yelling encouragement to his men. His voice strong and commanding could be heard above the din of battle.

Dead and dying men lay sprawled about the deck.

Little knots of men were still fighting. Lord Anthony now was face to face with a man carrying a blade and a tomahawk. Desperation showed on the man's face and

eyes as he circled and prodded with his blade, feinting then swinging the tomahawk.

Circling with the man, Anthony became aware of how slick the deck had become from all the blood and gore. Feeling himself tire, Anthony knew he had to soon end it. Then just as he started to press the man, there was a loud crack to his left.

His opponent's face turned from that of a man to unrecognizable gore. As the man dropped to the deck Bart stepped up next to Lord Anthony, smoking pistol still in his hand.

"No need to bother with that bugger. Iffen he'd 'ad any sense he'd throwed down 'is weapons and surrendered proper like. 'Nother one o' them buggers wot shoulda learned 'scretion, I'm thinking. Now 'e'll never share another wet with 's mates." The fighting was now over. Merlin's marine lieutenant was bellowing at his men to form up.

Wounded men were being carried below and the bodies of dead privateers were being dumped unceremoniously overboard. Cries from the orlop deck could be heard as Bart and Lord Anthony made their way back on board Merlin.

Turning to Lord Anthony, Bart spoke in a very solemn voice, "I don't know wot's worse, dying on deck or at the 'ands o' the surgeon."

Nursing a cut arm, Anthony replied, "I don't know but I think it's quicker in battle."

"Aye," Bart agreed, "Plus yew don't 'ave to lay there and think on it."

Back on board SeaWolf, Gabe and his crew were able to get the burning sail cut away and overboard before the fire had spread. Most of the damage from the battle was to the rails and bulwark. One gun would have to have a new carriage. Two crewmembers were dead and several wounded, a few from fighting the fire and not the battle.

LeFrelon was not so lucky. She had twenty dead and twice that wounded. The ship had taken a beating and may sink.

"Several planks has been stove in," the carpenter reported, "Plus she be holed twice."

As Knight reported to Admiral Anthony he felt distraught. "I doubt she'll ever fight again, my Lord. The frigate's heavier guns pounded her badly, I'm afraid."

"Think she'll make it to Saint Augustine?" Anthony inquired.

"I'm not sure, my Lord. If the wind doesn't get up she might."

"Very well," Lord Anthony said with a sigh. "Leave your first lieutenant and a skeleton crew on board and you take command of the frigate. What was her name?" Anthony asked.

"The Neptune, sir."

"Ah, yes, the Neptune. Since Lord Howe has promoted you to commander of LeFrelon, I'm sure he'll confirm your promotion to captain and command of the frigate. Did you loose any officers?"

"No, my Lord."

"Good, then we'll do what we can for LeFrelon now, and make a final decision when we get back to Saint Augustine."

Searching for fresh air.

The crew gathering on deck,

And stared out in awe;

As the Caribbean sun set.

They drank down their ration,

And lit up their pipes.

The master had promised,

Another scorching night.

– Michael Aye

The weeks following the battle with the privateers proved to be less rewarding. It was monotonous at times and hot all the time.

Anthony sent the ships out on patrol in pairs. Merlin and Swan were plying the coast up to Wilmington, North Carolina where two transports had been taken by rebel gunboats.

The Cape Fear River poured out into the Atlantic at Wilmington. The area had over a dozen inlets and most were suited for privateering. Strike fast, then escape into one of the inlets where navigation would be very treacherous for someone who didn't know the area.

Captain Knight on the newly captured Neptune, and Gabe on SeaWolf had just returned from their patrol south to the Keys and back. Pigeon and Audacity took turns as transport from the anchorage to Saint Augustine. Warrior continued at anchorage providing protection to the city.

"Boat ahoy!" Anthony could hear the challenge through the open skylight. A few minutes later Buck came down.

"Sir, flag captain," the marine sentry announced.

As Captain Buck entered, Anthony called to Silas,

"Bring us a glass of hock if you will." "Aye, my Lord, I have to fetch it from the bilges, but it shouldn't take long."

Seeing the official envelope with the Governor's seal, Anthony asked, "What have we here?"

"I'd guess it's an invitation," Buck replied.

"To what?"

"You'll have to tell me sir, as it's addressed to you." Anthony tore open the seal, and then sat silent for a moment while he read the invitation. "Well, Rupert," he spoke to Buck, using his first name. "It's time for you to meet some of the city's more eligible ladies."

"I don't understand," Buck said with a slight frown across his brow.

"The Governor is having a ball. Why, I have no idea, but you and the other ship's captains are all invited.

As I recall, it was at such an affair you struck up quite a relationship with a lady on Antigua."

"Aye," Buck replied as a smile creased his face. "A most warm and loving lady she was until she found out I'd not quit the sea to become her kept man. Mind you now, it was like a honeymoon itself every time we came back into port," Buck continued as he recalled the buxom dark-haired woman who had offered him a life of luxury.

"Trouble was, sir, nothing went with it. The plantation stayed in her name. She didn't want marriage and I couldn't see myself as some nabob." Anthony couldn't help but chuckle. He and Buck had been together for a long time and he could just see him as some rich widow's kept man.