Michael Aye - The Reaper

The master was in conversation with Pitts when Anthony came on deck. The wind was picking up. Dawn was breaking all right. Anthony could already make out faces of the men working forward. One of the seaman commented to no one in particular, “Was that a lightning flash off the larboard bow?” Markham, the now senior midshipman, volunteered, “I thought I heard thunder too.”

Anthony turned quickly. Anger was in his eyes as he addressed Pitts. “Thunder be damned. That’s cannon fire! Are the lookouts asleep, sir?”

Pitts called up to the masthead lookout who said, “I ‘ears it now sir, and seed a flash but thought it was lightning. Nothing more’s visable yet.” Pitts turned to his captain. “Clear for action, sir?”

“No, not yet,” Anthony replied. “Send for the first lieutenant.”

“Here I am, Cap’n.”

Turning, Anthony saw Buck. “Well good morning, Mr. Buck. I hate your rest was disturbed after such a hearty evening, but I fear the day promises to be an active one. We’ll go ahead and have the crew fed an early breakfast.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” the officers on the quarterdeck answered in unison.

Bart was there with Anthony’s sword and pistols. “Let’s go finish our coffee, Bart. There will be time for them directly,” Anthony said, speaking of his weapons. Halfway down the companionway Anthony called back to Buck, “After breakfast send Dagan to the masthead with a glass. Let’s see if his peepers are as good as my father claimed them to be.”

An air of excitement and expectation seemed to hover on deck as Anthony returned from breaking his fast. It was much lighter and all the lieutenants and young gentlemen seemed to be about. The crew moved with just a little bounce in its step. Someone must have mentioned the possibility of prize money, Anthony thought.

Dagan had proved his worth. With Anthony’s return on deck, Buck reported to him, “Looks like a pair of topsail schooners, bearing down on a barque. They don’t appear to be friendly.”

“They don’t appear to be friendly?” Anthony asked.

“No sir. They’re flying the red flag-mercy, no quarter. One schooner’s to leeward, and the other to windward. It’s like one was laying in wait and chased the barque toward the open arms of the other.”

“Have they seen us yet?” Anthony asked.

“They’ve shown no sign they have, Cap’n. The sun is behind us so we would be hard to see, especially when they’re so engrossed with the prospect of plunder.”

“Well, let’s see if we can give them something else to chew on,” Anthony said. “Beat to quarters if you will, Mr. Buck.”

“The barque’s in range so why ain’t they firing on her?” Mr. Davy asked. Both Anthony and Buck turned to the young middy. Since Witz had cast his lot to the depths, the once introverted boy seemed to have blossomed. However, butting in when his betters were in discussion would see him “kissing the gunner’s daughter.” Bart intervened before things went too far.

“Begging the captain’s pardon, but I believe the young gentlemen is needed forward, sir.”

Anthony knew an old sea dog like Bart would educate the boy on when it was proper to speak and when not. He’d also explain that pirates would rather take a ship with as little damage to the spoils as possible.

Dagan cried down from the masthead, “One of the schooners has come together with the barque and appears to be grappling, sir. The other’s closing in fast.”

“Very well. Mr. Earl?”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“Soon as you think proper, fire a ranging shot and see if we can give the buggers something else to think on.”

“Aye, sir,” Earl answered, and then went forward.

“Do you want Dagan down, sir?”

“No, Mr. Buck, not yet.”

The air was tense and everyone seemed to be holding their collective breath. This would be their first action under a new captain. The gun captain assigned to the cannon nearest to where Anthony was standing bent over to peer out the gun port. As he did so, he loosened a thunderous round of flatulence.

Anthony, taken aback by the man’s “outburst,” cried out, “Damme sir, but I don’t recall having given the order to fire!”

The crew roared with laughter.

“Silence,” Buck ordered, but even he couldn’t keep a straight face.

The offender sheepishly said, “I beg the captain’s pardon, sir.’’

The long nine rebounded against its lashing.

“A hit,” Dagan called down.

“Damn if Mr. Earl doesn’t know his business,” Anthony said to Buck.

“Aye sir. That’ll get the whoresons’ attention all right.”

“Another hit,” Dagan called down again. “They know we’re about now, sir.” No sooner had Dagan spoken than the windward schooner returned fire.

“That was damn quick,” said Peckham, wiping spray from his face. The schooner’s first ball had been just short of its target.

“A bit too accurate for my liking too,” said the quartermaster at the wheel. Anthony called to Mr. Earl, “Let them taste a complete broadside if you please.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Earl said. Then, turning to the gun crew he said, “Let’s give ‘em what for lads. On the uproll now fire, fire as you bear.”

An entire broadside was unleashed as Drakkar ’s cannons breathed fire. Earl had fired on the up roll to try and prevent as much collateral damage as possible to the barque. Still, the shots fell like a raining hell, and several balls found their mark. Great pieces of bulwark were seen flying through the air. Anthony knew the schooners were fragile and could not take such an onslaught much longer.

The wind had veered to directly astern. It carried the smoke from Drakkar ’s broadside with it, making visibility difficult.

“Hands to braces, Mr. Buck. We’ll close with them now”

“Aye, sir. Bosun-hands to braces!”

Drakkar swung around and was now on a converging tack with the three ships. Dagan, still at the masthead, called down, “One of the schooners has loosened her grapnels and is casting off but she’s dragging her bowsprit.”

Anthony had a sudden notion. “Mr. Buck, have a couple of boats made ready with a sizable boarding party. We’ll drop them off as we pass by the schooner that’s still grappled to the barque. Have the boats lowered on the larboard side. Now put the best gunners on the starboard side and have them load with grape. I want to cut down on the blackguards we pass to make it easier for our boarding party. Tell the gunners to fire as they bear! Then we’ll beat down to the other cutthroat.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Buck said and turned to organize the boarding party.

“Oh, Mr. Buck.”

“Yes sir!”

“Have Dagan come down. I’m sure we have a better use for him at this point.”

Buck couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t see Gabe getting into a boat for a boarding party without Dagan.

The fleeing schooner fired again. They were closing the gap quicker than Anthony realized. Drakkar ’s fore topgallant mast came tumbling down. Part of the jib ripped and flapped in the breeze with a loud pop.

“Damned feist,” cried Peekham.

“That feist’s still got teeth,” Anthony responded.

Drakkar made her own response with another broadside. The schooner seemed to shudder as Drakkar ’s 24 pounders struck home. The main mast was carried away and acted like a great sea anchor almost stopping the schooner in her wake. The remaining sails were full of shot holes. The fo’c’s’le and bulwark had great gaps thanks to Drakkar ’s gunners.

“Give the bastards a taste of grape, Mr. Buck. Then we’ll board and see if there’s any life left in them.” Anthony had to give the pirates credit for their bravery. He knew the loss of life on board the schooner had to be great…but better them than his crew. They had already condemned themselves.