Michael Aye: HMS Seawolf

Bart pulled his knife and picked up a broken barrel stave, and charged into the melee. Bart's intervention saved young Lieutenant Anthony's life.

Two of Flagge's men were killed, and two ran off.

Bart was shot in the shoulder and Flagge was killed from a knife wound…Bart's knife! After hearing of Flagge's death, the servant fled, never to be heard from again. With both parties gone it would have been difficult to prove Flagge had A n t h o n y attacked.

Although Bart was wounded, it was his glib tongue that made up the story as to how he, Lieutenant Anthony and the first lieutenant were set upon by thieves. The story was never questioned and Bart had been with Anthony ever since.

"Damme, my Lord, but that's a tall order," Dutch had just read the orders that were to employ Lord Anthony's squadron until…

"Ye are directed to immediately proceed on a!cruize to provide protection of trade for his Majesty's loyal merchants."

"Ye are directed to range the coast of Provence of Main…and from thence proceed farr southward as latitude thirty-four north and not further west than the shoals of Nantuckett nor further east than the Island [of] Sable, on the coast of Nova Scotia."

"Ye are to remain on station until weather and halidays cease the merchant trade."

After Captain Moffett read Lord Anthony's orders they were returned to Lieutenant Markham to be put away. Markham had read the orders and

couldn't help but wonder who had written them.

He was not at the top of his class in composition and spelling but he was sure he could have done a better job. This had probably been done by some flag lieutenant who held his commission out of favoritism.

Markham had accepted his present

appointment as Lord Anthony's flag lieutenant out of respect. He had the education which some apparently lacked, if those orders were an indication. He had the background and certainly he had the family and Navy name recognition. He had been a midshipman under then Captain Anthony on HMS Drakkar. He had made lieutenant at the same time as Gabe, Lord Anthony's brother.

He was honored to be the flag lieutenant and didn't want to appear ungrateful, but what he really wanted was a ship.

Damn Gabe, the lucky sod. SeaWolf. Now that was as fine a vessel as anyone could hope for as a first command. He didn't begrudge Gabe his ship; he just wished he could be as lucky. However, he was in the best spot, right here in front of the Admiral should a vacancy arise, or a prize become available.

Damn Gabe, though. Then Markham felt a bit of guilt at his feeling. He sure missed Gabe, but damn him anyway. He'd buy the first round next time, just because he was such a lucky sod.

As Gabe strode forward, the wind picked up.

He could feel his loose clothing pressed tight against his body and his hair was blowing with the wind.

He held onto a shroud as SeaWolf’s sharp bow cut through the water. He was exhilarated. Fourteen knots, my God what speed, muttered Gabe. He was sure he could coax another knot out of her.

When he was away from the squadron Gabe would put on every inch of SeaWolf’s canvas and let her fly as he was doing now. Not unlike a thoroughbred at the downs he thought. But Lord Sandwich was right. She was a predator too, and he wondered how long it would be before she fired her guns in anger.

Delivering dispatches was not the type of work Gabe would have chosen but it did allow a certain degree of freedom. One appealing aspect was that it got him away from the squadron and the Admiral. An admiral was always an admiral even if he was your brother. He did miss Gil. They had shared some good times and bad ones over the last few years. Gabe had joined his brother's ship as a midshipman but had matured into a man amidst the din of battle.

"Sail ho! Two sails on the far horizon!"

"Are they British?"

Gabe turned finding Mr. Davy before him-another boy who'd grown into a mature seasoned fighter on board Drakkar.

"Why don't you grab a glass and go aloft so that I may have a proper report, Mr. Davy?"

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Hazard! Mr. Lavery! We might be in for a bit of excitement today."

"Aye, sir," they said in unison, both excited at the possibility of prize money, but Hazard more so than Lavery. Hazard's father had worked at the

"Boston Company" and had been able to help his son advance to master's mate. However, since the war had broken out, Hazard's father had been let go from the firm for not showing enough patriotic enthusiasm. In truth, he agreed with the colonies but felt diplomacy was better than war. Now the family was dependent on Lieutenant Everette Hazard for survival.

Hazard didn't need to be told how lucky he was to have his commission. He felt luckier still having Lieutenant Gabe Anthony as the SeaWolf’s captain.

He'd heard some of the crew tell stories of their captain. It was said he made a fortune in prize money just before the war. Hopefully Everette Hazard might be able to pick up a guinea or two.

Watching Mr. Davy slide down the shrouds

reminded Hazard of what he'd been told of the diminutive young gentleman. Slight in frame he may be, but fearless. Those words from Dagan who rarely spoke. Hazard had seen the long wide scar along his rib cage where he'd been pierced by a huge splinter when Drakkar defeated the fifty-gun pirate vessel, Reaper. The boy was somewhat of a hero to the men and would make a fine officer.

Hazard only hoped he would fair as well, and felt a jealous pang as he thought of the relationship between Davy and the captain. Hazard had also not failed to notice that whenever someone seemed to question Davy's authority, the mysterious Dagan loomed.

"Two sails, Cap'n, just as the look-out said.

They appear to be on a nor-nor-westerly heading.

However a silvery brown patch off starboard appears to be another set of sails. We should have a better view soon. It's right where blue meets blue and I almost missed it."

Gabe turned to Dagan, "Hear that? He almost missed it."

"Damme sir, but damme the boy's got eyes, ain't he?" Dagan proclaimed.

"Mr. Blake!"

"Aye, cap'n."

"Set us a course to intercept Mr. Davy's sighting yonder. Mr. Hazard, once we can better identify those sails be prepared to go to quarters."

"Aye, cap'n. Think she's a privateer?"

"Who knows, Mr. Hazard. My question is why those other two ships left her. They had to have seen her and we've not seen or heard any gunfire.

If she's British we'll get the latest news. If she's a privateer we'll fatten our purses."

"Aye, sir. Mine could stand a little fat. It's been lean for a spell now."

"Deck there," the lookout called down. "She's changing her tack."

Gabe looked to his first lieutenant. "No gossip today, Mr. Hazard. Beat to quarters if you will, but to be on the safe side put up our signal and see if she answers with the correct recognition."

"Aye, sir."

"Would you like for me to go aloft again, Mr. Hazard?"

"Eager today are we, Mr. Davy?"

"Aye, sir."

"Mr. Davy?"

"Aye, Cap'n."

"I surely expected you to be at your battle station by now and not trying to trick the first lieutenant into approving a skylarking trip for you.

Surely, sir, I've not misplaced my trust in you have I?"

"Nay, Cap'n, I'll make you proud," Davy replied as he scampered off to his station, smiling as he noticed Dagan's wink when he passed by him.

"Mr. Druett."

"Aye, Cap'n," the gunner answered.

"As soon as we're in range I want you to put a ball across that one's bow."

"Aye, Cap'n, I'll scorch its bowsprit, I will."

"Deck there," the lookout called down, "She be a schooner, sir. Colonial from the looks of things." B O O M!…Druett had let loose with the forward six-pounder.