Pirate Nation

Chapter 1

Grayson

It's always eerie, the night before a hanging, and this one is no different. Time stretches out, lingering as if the island and the sea know what is to come and have slowed the approaching dawn. Each second is a minute and every minute is an hour.

I lean against the railing outside the guardhouse, letting the cool sea breeze wash over me. I try to avoid these shifts if I can. The dawn watch before a hanging. But I drew the short straw. Now I am the privileged soldier who gets to walk the damned to the gallows. I shudder at the thought.

The quiet night sky is clear, and the stars reflect in the harbour below, winking on rippling waters. Laughing at me for being so soft.

Soldiers patrol the garrison walls and along the harbour, their red coats visible in the moonlight, musket rifles resting back against their shoulders. With a pirate sentenced to the noose, the garrison isn't taking any chances.

Heavy clipped footsteps sound behind me and I straighten to attention.

"Lieutenant Jensen." I salute as my superior officer stops before me, shoulders straight, not a strand of hair out of place.

"Anything, soldier?" Lieutenant Jensen asks.

I shake my head. "Not a thing, sir."

"Good. It's an hour until dawn." Lieutenant Jensen looks past me, focusing on something out at sea. "If I were planning to launch an attack, it would be now."

Lieutenant Jensen reaches into his pocket, pulling out a collapsed spyglass. He straightens it and lifts it to his eye.

I peer into the darkness, following his line of sight.

A dark shape sits on the horizon. As it nears the harbour entrance, the distinct outline of a tall ship sharpens into focus. It slices through the water, moving at a steady clip, and that's when I notice another ship behind it.

Moonlight bounces off the hull of the first ship and my breath catches in my throat. I blink hard, hoping my eyes are playing tricks.

A red hull. Red sails.

The frantic clang of the warning bell sounds in the port below, echoing through the docks and into the township beyond. Barked orders and panicked voices follow.

"Grayson." Lieutenant Jensen lowers his spyglass. "Lock yourself inside the guardhouse. No one gets in."

"Are we under attack, sir?"

"We will be soon." Jensen looks at me. "The guardhouse is the most direct route to the dungeons. If they get past the walls, this is where they will come." He places a hand on my shoulder. "Good luck, soldier."

"Yes, sir."

Jensen turns on his heel and races towards the gates, shouting orders to the soldiers stationed there.

I follow my own orders and run inside the guardhouse. As I turn to shut the door, voices float up to me on the wind. Frantic orders and shouted information. Most of it indiscernible. But one piece does reach me loud and clear.

The name of the ship.

The Red Vengeance.