SOUTH ATLANTIC, JULY 1694
The voyage down to the Cape was fast and the winds were favorable most of the way. Lang Schadow had the chance to really stretch her wings and fly and she impressed everyone when she achieved a mind boggling 12 knots.
"Any faster and you'll take off from the water and fly my dear." Vandecker said.
Lang Schadow laughed. "I'd rather keep my keel in the water." She replied. "But I know what you mean. It's incredible. I never thought I could sail this fast."
"Well you can, you're doing it now." Vandecker replied.
"13 knots!" A man called. "Whoo." Vandecker muttered to himself.
Lang Schadow was enjoying all the attention she was getting and decided it wouldn't hurt to race into port a little early. She could imagine just how surprised they would be to find her there so soon. Grinning, she lowered her head and charged on, gaining speed.
"18 knots!" exclaimed the man. Vandecker looked like he was about to faint.
"Should I slow down captain?" She asked, amused. Vandecker was about to answer when the lookout cried "storm dead ahead!"
Lang Schadow swore to herself. "Of all the miserable luck." She thought crossly. "Well this is the Cape of Storms. What'd you expect?" A small voice in her head retorted. "Shut up." She told it and silence greeted her. Dark, ominous clouds loomed ahead.
"I don't like this. I don't like this one bit." Vandecker muttered.
"Somehow you read my mind captain." Lang Schadow grumbled.
"I'm your captain, that's how." He replied simply. She sighed and ignored him.
Her crew hauled in most of the sails, leaving only the fore and forestay sails up for maneuverability. Lang Schadow braced herself for one of nature's most deadly onslaughts but there was really little she could do against the force that was the storms of the Cape. The wind and rain buffeted her as she plodded along. She wasn't even sure if she was going in the right direction anymore.
"Right direction be damned." She thought. "I'll be lucky just to get out of this in one piece."
Unfortunately, she wouldn't be that lucky.
It would be man and not nature that would doom her luck this day. It began not long after she successfully rounded the cape. The worst of the weather behind her, Lang Schadow looked forward to rest. But rest was going to have to wait a little longer.
The lookout on her mast provided the first warning. "Sails off two points to larboard!"
Lang Schadow's head snapped around, eyes scanning the horizon to identify said ships. She saw them exactly where her lookout had indicated but if she had hoped the approaching fleet was friendly she would be disappointed. The ensign flying from the lead ship's mast told her they could only be British.
While not officially at war, relations between the Dutch and British Empires had not been the greatest as of late and rogue attacks were common, especially in remote regions like the Cape.
"Scrap!" Lang Schadow cursed and tacked away from them, turning south. She couldn't hope to outrun them, swift agile hunters that these were. But maybe she could evade long enough to find a safe shelter.
It took only three hours for her to realize the folly of fleeing. Which left only one option. Most merchants would heave to and surrender but not Lang Schadow. She was the most heavily armed merchant ship to come out of Amsterdam. The pride of the Dutch merchant fleet and she would be sunk before she struck her colors.
Lang Schadow turned downwind, a signal to her pursuers that she was ready to slug it out. The lead ship broke off to begin a flanking maneuver while the two remaining vessels, both heavily armed frigates carrying 30 guns apiece, got in alongside her to fire. Lang Schadow returned the favor, striking hard into their hulls. In a one on one engagement, she would be the clear victor, possessing 50 guns to her opponent's 30 but with two ships to face instead of one, the tables were turned slightly in their favor.
Lang Schadow poured cannonshot into her opponent's hulls and she felt a strong measure of satisfaction when one frigate was forced to withdraw. Her rigging shredded and her hull torn to pieces. Her partner was furious at this and her rate of fire increased dramatically. Lang Schadow was tiring and for every shot she fired, the frigate's shots were just as accurate. Cannonballs ripped through her hull, each one sending splinters of wood each as deadly as a katana, into her organs. Blood poured from her wounds. She couldn't keep this up for much longer.
Then, it happened. The lead ship, Lang Schadow had forgotten about her. Being so much bigger than her subordinates, she had taken longer to get into position. But now she was placed perfectly off Lang Schadow's starboard quarter. She was a first rate ship of the line with double the guns of her opponent. A single broadside carried enough weight to match Lang Schadow's entire battery. And the Dutch ship felt her wrath all too clearly.
Lang Schadow staggered under the blow but she refused to go down. Her up until now silent starboard battery let loose, catching the other ship by surprise and blowing loose several of her rigging lines. But her opponent was merely dazed and quickly shook herself off.
Lang Schadow paid for her insolence dearly. The second broadside was more devastating than the first. Over half a ton of firepower was delivered into her starboard side and across her deck. She cried out in agony, finally faltering in her course. She thought she heard a mast crack under the strain. Unable to remain upright, she rolled on her side, sails flapping uselessly. Her vision blurring, Lang Schadow tried to keep conscious but she had lost too much blood. The last thing she saw was a pair of concerned blue eyes looking down at her before everything went dark.
YOU ARE READING
The Founding Sisters #1 The Damned
General FictionRedoing my original and tying it in with the main series. We go back to the beginning, before the founding of the United States. Several ships were key players in this founding and this is their story.
