The Scourge - Pirates & Privateers

Chapter 14: The Storm

'Two mast. Twenty cannon, nine and twelve pounders. At least a hundred men. Flying Dutch colours.' the Quartermaster lowered his spyglass and sighed. 'She's well-built, at any rate.'

'And if I'm sure of anything,' the Captain cut in. 'It's that no one aboard that ship is Dutch.'

'So, she's the ship you've been so afraid of,' the Quartermaster muttered, then caught the Captain's eye. 'Sorry, I mean, wary of. Anyway, I'm not surprised. She outguns, outmans and out-armours us. She looks a tough beastie.' The Quartermaster rested his elbow against the stern railing and watched as the nimble brig behind them skipped across the water towards the sloop's resting place. 'And I assume she won't be friendly.'

'Perhaps at first,' Black Hal remarked, chewing the inside of his cheek. 'But that's just to lure you in. Van den Berg is more cunning a devil than I first imagined. And I'm not keen on staying here a moment longer. We need to catch the wind and sail fast.'

The Captain turned on his heel, but the Quartermaster caught him by the shoulder.

'Sir, we can't outrun them. Not with the Scourge in such bad shape.'

'She'll take it. She has to. We'll cut across the Cape, hug the coast as close as possible and catch the highest wind.'

'What does it matter, Hal?' the Quartermaster groaned, a little impatiently. 'We'd be sailing the same wind. Even if we manage to cut a lucky breeze, their masts aren't rotten or battle-scarred. They'll catch us regardless.' The two men stood silent, watching the brigantine approach the sloop and pull up just before the shallows began, avoiding the same fate.

'We'll need to give the men all the options,' the Captain passed a hand through his black beard. 'The Scourge is their ship as much as it's ours, and we can't let them think they have no control. The last thing we need right now is for their morale to buckle. If we fall apart now, we're all doomed.'

'Whatever you think of, you'd better think of it quick. We can keep sailing; try and put as much distance between us and them, but within the hour they'll have collected all the survivors from the Dragon and they'll be coming for us. We can't fight them; we can't outrun them. So, what do we do?'

Black Hal swallowed, then his eye turned over to the horizon ahead, where a dark cloud loomed.

'There's a third option.'

The Quartermaster followed his gaze and went as white as cheese.

'Oh, no. No, no, no. Never. Now you have gone mad. We can't just-.'

'You have any better ideas?' the Captain interrupted.

'Anything is better that that! It's certain death!'

'It's the only hope we've got. We can't just stand around chatting. Action has to be taken, whether we're ready or not. They need all the options.'

The Captain turned and marched over to the quarterdeck balcony, putting his hands on the railing.

'Listen up!' The murmur of the crew on deck abruptly ceased. 'We don't have much time. That Dutchman is coming for us. More than likely to see us sunk without so much as a word.'

There was a distressed hum as the crew whimpered between themselves and held to their lucky charms and amulets, sending up a silent prayer to God, or whoever else they believed ruled the sea.

'Why?' Young, the Carpenter's mate, folded his arms across his chest. 'Why are they attacking us? We don't have quarrel with them. Why are they trying to kill us?'

'Shut it, boy!' the Carpenter smacked his apprentice hard across the back of the head. 'Captain's talking. Don't interrupt.'

'That's enough, Ducasse,' the Captain called down. All the fire was choked from the Carpenter, and he took on the appearance of a startled cat cowering under his master's broom. 'Mister Young asks a good question. Why are we under attack? And the answer...'