Poseidon's Guide: The First Adventure // #Wattys2018

Chapter 24

The sea thrashed violently, angrily tugging the Guide like it was a feather. Charles held the wheel tightly, keeping the Guide on a firm course through the ships, blasting them apart as he sailed by their sides. For a moment, a short moment, Charles felt he could beat them. The Guide was unstoppable. The British Armada was running low on brigs and gunboats to keep up the attack and barely two warships left aside from the Descent to retaliate. Charles was destroying ships left and right.

But over the distance, reinforcements began to roll in. Charles closed his eyes, opening them to hope to see the blurs gone, yet they remained and grew larger. Charles sighed as The Executioner led forth the hundred ships barring the sails and flags of the Spanish Armada. The ships outnumbered the British Armada, and significantly outnumbered the K'o'ox twenty to one, and by size they triumphed. The British Armada's former flagship, The Executioner, led them forth into the Lantros Sea and joined up with the other remaining ships. Charles turned the wheel, swallowing his pride and saying his final prayers. The Guide went forth, between two Spanish warships and fired. The ships fired back, their cannons doing almost nothing to the Guide. The ships were damaged as the Guide sailed out between them, unscathed from the encounter. Yet Charles knew that wouldn't be enough. He turned the Guide and made way for another firing run, but three ships all cornered the Guide and rammed her, halting the Poseidon's Guide in her path.

Charles fell from the wheel, smacking his head on the door to the Captain's Quarters. The rain fell on him as he looked up, the water stinging his eyes. It was done. He listened to the panicked screams of pirates as yellow-coated officers of the Spanish Navy boarded and slaughtered the remainder of Edward's crew. Charles rose to his feet and watched. First it was his crew. Now it was Edward's crew. The Spanish didn't leave a man alive. The captain of the Spanish flagship and Commodore of their fleet was there on the deck starring back. The captain ordered his men to restrain Charles and bring him down. The captain of The Executioner boarded and joined.

"Captain Charles, you are wanted by both navies." The Spanish Commodore spoke through a thick accent. He was a burly man, smaller than George Hadly in height but larger in width. "And your slaughter of Santa Maria and Ponta Delgada was just enough to confirm the Spanish and British alliance! Gracias." The Commodore smiled. "Now with the Spanish Armada and what remains of the British Armada, together we will conquer the seas!"

Charles snickered and spat on his boots. "I don't know who slaughtered yer islands, but it weren't me! And as far as I know, it weren't Edward neither!" The captain of the Executioner didn't speak a word, nor did he look Charles in the eyes. Charles had seen it all before with Commodore Hadly. "Ya' don't want to be here, do yer boy?"

"I have a duty to my Commodore and my King." The captain replied his copied answer, raising his head to attempt to seem sure of his words, yet Charles knew differently.

"Benjamin Henley had a duty to his Commodore and King... That's why he's fighting to stop the mad fucker!"

"Benjamin Henley is a traitor who will be executed once captured. If captured." His words filled Charles with dread. Was Benjamin dead already? The redcoats had stormed Lynnair, could Edward and the others have fallen too? Charles conceded and allowed the Spanish to take him prisoner.

_______

Edward drew his sword, ready for battle. He was sure of nothing, knew the odds were stacked against him and that his chances of winning were below zero. But he did know that he must try. Maryanne knew this as well, the fate that would lie ahead if a man like George Hadly was in control of the sea. Angelina picked up her sword as well, their numbers cutting George's chances down slightly, yet it didn't reassure Edward. Three pirates, one who's never fought a day before this and another who was about to fight the man whom just revealed himself as her potential grandfather. Edward gulped, casting aside his heavy coat, his thin white undershirt soaked in sweat.