Romancing the Pirate 01 - Blood and Treasure (12 page)

The exchange of firepower raged fierce. Zane had a formidable foe in Bennington. He could count on the commodore’s enthusiasm for a fight. Although the naval officer was well versed in battle, Bennington’s presumptive pride exposed a weakness Zane had always been able to exploit.

The explosion of cannons split the ears, acrid smoke hung thick. Drafts of sea breeze did little in blowing the swirling, grey smoke away. Zane could only make out the contour of the
Tradition
. And she was getting closer.

“He means to board us.” Blade fired off a shot from his blunderbuss. “Should we weigh anchor?”

“No. The merchants need a chance to make their way out of the bay.” Zane pulled a pistol from one of his braces on his bandolier. “Let him try to board. That will then prove his ignorance. He will only hasten his defeat.”

A bullet whizzed past Zane’s head splintering against the main mast behind him, sending wooden shards piercing his skin. Without flinching, he returned fire.

“Besides, Bennington cannot set his mind to a pirate’s heart. Two disabled ships will render him a sitting duck amid these hostile waters. With or without The Serpent, he would be given no quarter.”

A grappling hook caught at the railing in front of Blade. Zane quickly sliced through the rope with his sword, firing again into the smoke.

“Use the fireballs!” He thundered the demand at his men.

The
Rissa
jolted as a cannonball lacerated through her berth.

Zane quickened his step along the waist, shouting orders to his gunners. Skilled artillerymen loaded and fired their cannons with a calm composure verged near suicidal indifference. These men worked as a team. The loader cleared the touchhole vent on top of the muzzle of firing debris and then measured the loose gunpowder. The sponger shoved the swabbing sponge down the gun’s barrel to extinguish sparks and stepped aside for the rammer. It took two or three strokes to wedge in the hemp wadding against the powder charge. Finally the loader rammed in the shot and the gun captain lit the fuse. A moment later, the gun fired and the whole process began again.

Zane respected his crew a great deal. ’Twas good to have such men at his back, especially those as bloody-minded as he.

“Remember men. We’re not taking her!” He strode behind their line shouting over the blasting guns. “Use the chain shot! Destroy her!”

*****

Officer Trent hurriedly snaked through soldiers engaged in the sea battle. Dense smoke whirled in his wake. “Commodore, sir.”

Bennington still stood impatient at the helm, leaning on his drawn sword with a hand propped on his hip.

Trent panted, out of breath from rushing across the ship delivering Bennington’s directives. “We’re sustaining a great deal of damage. They are cutting swathes in our sails with langrage shot filled with scrap metal. The main mast is severely torn up. We haven’t gotten a single man on board the
Rissa
. Four dead and nine are wounded from their grape shot. And there’s a fire on the quarterdeck.”

“Your point, Lieutenant?” he snorted. The battle had been waging for the larger part of twenty minutes and had exchanged an impressive amount of gunfire between them. The pirate ship fared better than his own warship. Fox had been prepared. That fact didn’t surprise him. Bennington bared his teeth in frustration as another fireball landed with a thud on the deck below, sparking flecks of shattered wood to catch into bits of growing flames. Men stomped on the embers, smothering the little fires

“Sir.” Trent stood at attention. The commodore could hear his heels clicking together over the popping of firing muskets. “I await your orders.”

Bennington let out a violent wail. He swung his sword against the mast, embedding the blade deep. “He’s anchored for crissakes! Why can’t we defeat him? There is no excuse for failure!”

Trent ducked away from Bennington in his tirade, losing his hat. “Sir, he’s better outfitted for close combat.” He bumbled to firmly adjust his tricorn back on his boxy head. Still, it sat crooked.

Bennington narrowed his eyes at the lieutenant. “You dare speculate my tactics?”

Trent hustled over to dislodge his commander’s sword. “No sir.” He tugged on the sword. “I deeply regret sounding as such.” He tugged again. “I only meant to say –”

“I know what you meant to say.” Bennington cut him off. Inhaling deep the acrid taste of gunpowder in the air, he pushed Trent aside, grabbed the hilt with one hand and yanked his sword out of the spar. “Increase firepower. Use the 42-pounders. Get men on that ship. Bring me Captain Fox. At whatever cost, I will get what I came for. There are your orders, Lieutenant.”

Trent saluted. “Yes, sir.”

A low boom resonated over the gunfire, within the next moment a chunk of the
Tradition’s
aft shattered, splinters and boards rained down as men hit the deck.

“Hell and corruption!” Bennington scrambled to his feet. “Where’d that come from?”

“There!” Trent pointed toward a small garrison nestled in the trees on the side of the island’s rocky cliff.

Bennington set his jaw. He had not seen it before. The post was well hidden amid the thick foliage. But now he could make out the limestone blocks that blended into the ribbed bluff.

“
Damnation.” He spun around, rage consuming him whole. He didn’t budge as another volley shot from the shore cannon, tearing past and nicking the rail.

He kicked at his cockswain, who lay shaking, huddled on the floor with his arms over his head. “Get us out of here,” Bennington ordered.

The
Tradition
tilted to the larboard and pulled away from the battle. Bennington made his way to the rail and focused on the
Rissa
in their retreat
.
Through the lifting smoke, her captain stared back at him, giving him a salute with his pistoled hand.

“I solemnly vow to you, Captain Fox,” Bennington said, though no one heard him. “Our next encounter will be the last.”

*****

Men cheered as the navy frigate sailed out of the bay, but Zane was not quite as satisfied. Bennington headed for the safety of open waters to fight another day. “What’s the damage,” he said.

Henri tottered over. “Most of the bulwark’s repairable. Foremast took a good hit. Not much damage to anythin’ else since the sails were down. We be needin’ to mend ’er up, Capt’n.”

“Aye.” They needed to make way soon. Another battle with Bennington was closer than inevitable. “And the men?”

“A few splinter wounds. But nothin’ serious.”

“Good.”

Blade sauntered over with a bottle of rum in hand. “Your men on shore couldn’t have picked a better time to start shelling. Really took ole Bennington by surprise. Once again, Zane, you prove you are the master.” He clapped Zane on the back, handing him the bottle.

“Who be the barrack stanchions?” Henri peered over at the garrison.

“There were a couple of retired French corsairs on shore who owed me a favor. Figured they could pay up. They were more than willing to satisfy their debt after I presented a persuasive reminder.”

“Let me guess,” Blade teased. “You bought them a round.”

“You take all the joy out of being a heartless shivery sea captain.”

Blade laughed. “Ah, but not the joy for me.”

Zane stopped a boatswain passing by. “Make her ready to sail,” he said.

“Bennington won’t be licking his wounds for long. We need to get to a safe cay to make our repairs.” He uncorked the rum taking a deep swig. “Ah, victory. She tastes sweet.” Zane savored the bite.

Henri lapped at his dry lips as Zane handed the bottle back to Blade.

“You can say that again, brother.” Blade swallowed hard. “To another fight.” He raised the bottle in a toast then downed another swig.

Henri reached for the rum, but Zane grabbed the neck, lifting it high. “Hear, hear!”

A commotion carried from the interior entryway. Lianna emerged from the hatch with Jason, harried to keep up, in tow. Henri, his concentration unwavering, snatched the bottle from Zane, gulping down the liquor, dribbling it down into his wiry beard.

“Miss Whitney, please wait. Miss Whitney, the Capt’n told me to keep you below until he called for us. Please, Miss Whitney.”

Lianna paid the boy no mind and she walked straight up to Captain Fox, coughing at the fumes caught in her throat. “Is it over?” She waved away the lingering smoke.

Jason wrung at the brown weather-beaten hat he held. “I’m sorry, Capt’n. She wouldn’t listen to reason. When the noise settled, she insisted she come on deck.”

“It’s all right, Jason. I’m sure Miss Whitney was just frightened.”

“Frightened?” Lianna frowned. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I was not frightened.”
Well, maybe a little. Oh, all right. I was terrified.
“I had to know if you had been overcome. I did not intend to let The Serpent fall into the Royal Navy’s possession. Nor was I intending to be captured.”

Zane crossed his feet and leaned against the railing. “The Serpent is in
my
possession. If I had been seized, dear lady, how would you have gone about retrieving the medallion from Commodore Bennington?”

Ooh. He’s a smug one.
“Well, I…”
Looking charming
… “I’d figure out something.”
King suits him well.
“Yes, I’d use my feminine wiles.”
Argh. You didn’t just say that, did you?

Zane and Blade grinned at one another, Jason shifted uncomfortably well aware he needed to be elsewhere, and Henri tried to make an escape with a bottle of rum.

“What? You don’t think I could seduce the Commodore?”

“You’d get a better response out of a dead fish before you’d get a rise out of Bennington.” Blade gave Zane a good elbow in his side.

“Huh.” Henri said. “I hear the only thing he can get to stand at attention is his lap dog, Trent.” He took a swig and another step away.

“Go on!” Blade slapped at his thigh.

“Aye. The girls in Port Royal say so.”

Zane nodded, his smirk indicating he thoroughly enjoyed the conversation. “He wouldn’t give you the opportunity. You’re dead weight, extra baggage to him. He’d either have you imprisoned or, more likely, lost at sea. And, no offense, Miss Whitney, but you are an accident waiting to happen.”

Lianna huffed. “Now see here, Captain Fox.” She raised her chin a fraction.

“Don’t go getting your scanties in a knot.”

She couldn’t keep from reacting by widening her eyes, shocked by his remark.

“You’re a bonny of a lass,” Zane continued. “Just that you come off like a soused elephant in a shop full of china dishes.”

Lianna squared her shoulders.

“I think I need to help clean something,” Jason said. The lad made a straight line for the opposite side of the ship.

Lianna’s voice rose with the steam of her anger. “Not only are you saying that I am a disastrous, incompetent temptress, but now I’m fat, too?”

“Blimey.” Henri took another step, widening the distance. Lianna, quick as a flash, snatched the rum from Henri’s grasp. He looked down at his empty palm and whimpered.

Blade sidestepped the other way. “Uh-oh.”

“That’s not what I said.” Zane straightened, standing his ground.

She narrowed her eyes on the captain, taking a long swig of the strong spirit.

“You must admit you tend to attract a good deal of misfortune.” His tone suggested a hint of regret in his taunts.