The Scourge - Pirates & Privateers

Chapter 23: Ships intertwined

'They're trying to board us!' the frightened cry of the deckhand was muffled by the whoosh of grappling hooks through the air.

'Prepare for close quarters!' Martin roared, drawing his cutlass. 'We show no mercy!'

The Hellish battle-cries that rose up from both ships fought to be heard against the clash of the other. Each side drew their pistols and cutlasses, and waited with bated breath.

Before the grappling hooks had burrowed themselves into the Señora's railing, the Spanish privateers swung like monkeys from the halyards to do battle.

'Overhead! Fire at will!' Schleckt raised his pistol with the rest of the crew and sent a volley of shot into the rigging. Men dropped like flies writhing to the water below, but some still clung to their ropes.

Martin looked to Schleckt, then swallowed his fear and nodded. He brandished his cutlass and Schleckt raised his axe.

'Charge!' the pair stampeded towards the bewildered Spaniards.

The crew joined the melee, knocking a handful of the invaders overboard, then exchanging blows with the rest.

'Push them back!' Martin screamed, his face splashed with warm blood as he parried the blow of a cutlass and sliced into the owner's throat. He kicked over the thrashing corpse then turned to face his men.

Through the din and smoke of battle, he spotted Emily, her sword drawn, fending off sword swings from a tall, grubby sailor, who laughed as he beat the strength out of her. He leapt forward, dodging volleys and slashing at the enemy line.

The sailor knocked the sword from Emily's hand and pinned her against the mizzen mast, the curve of his cutlass smiling against her neck. He was just ready to slice her to ribbons when Martin, in a flash of impulse, drew the pistol from his belt, cocked the hammer, and fired. The sailor shrieked in pain and collapsed, blood pouring from a soot-blackened hole in his knee. Martin dashed forward and kicked the fallen sword away where it could do no harm.

Emily breathed a sigh of relief, but she held strong, dropping to her knees to take up her sword when Martin wrenched her back to her feet again by the wrist.

'Emily, get below.'

'No,' She spat. 'Not this time. I'm not going to cower while you risk your life for me. I'd rather-.'

'I need you to find Ulrich.' Martin put his hand on her shoulders. 'Tell him to find a gun with sight of that mast. We need to get it clear, else we're as good as sunk with them.'

Emily swallowed, her eyes wide, her body shaking, before she nodded.

'Alright. You're going to be alright without me?'

'I'll manage somehow,' Martin smiled and caressed her arm.

'You'd better. If you die out here, I'll kill you,' She wrapped her arms around his neck then quickly kissed him on his scarred cheek. The touch of her soft, but slightly weather-beaten lips sent warm shivers down his spine. His heart throbbed with a life he'd never felt before. Then, in an instant, she was gone, sword in hand, down the main hatch calling after Ulrich.

'Alright then, who wants some, ya slimey apes?!' Schleckt bellowed as he cocked the hammer of his freshly loaded pistol and fired it into the massing growth of enemies on deck. 'Come and catch a real fight, if you're not too chicken!'

Martin was about to turn and join the melee, when a voice froze his blood cold.

'Hamish.'

He turned slowly to see, perched like an exotic bird on the fallen mast between the ships, his coat a-flow, his jerkin aglow and his infamous ugly smile etched across his cheeks.