Beloved Captive by Kathleen Y'Barbo

for the sails to be trimmed, several sailors paced the edges of the vessel, shining lanterns onto the water.
    Caleb took up watch on the forward bow. Several pieces of what appeared to be charred wood knocked against the ship, each bouncing away only to collide again. Then he saw what appeared to be a person.
    “Fetch a lantern,” he called. “I think I see a body in the water.”
    A sailor raced toward Caleb, the lantern bobbing in his hand. Just before he reached Caleb, a shot rang out and the man fell flat on the deck. The lantern rolled toward Caleb, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He quickly shed his coat and stamped out the flames, then peered over the rail to see that the supposed body was merely a length of pale cloth wound around a ship’s timber.
    “Get yourself down,” the captain called. “All men to stations.”
    A roar from behind him caused Caleb to turn. A short distance from the bow, a vessel glided toward them in ghostly silence. Only the flash from a cannon gave proof it was not some spectral vision.
    While the captain shouted orders, the Cormorant returned fire. Caleb moved the injured man to a safer location, then took up his place beside the other men on the deck. When the attacking ship passed near enough, her name showed plain and clear in the moonlight.
    Hawk’s Remedy .
    Caleb spat on the deck as the blood began to boil in his temples. A lesser man might have cursed the vessel. He preferred to allow the Lord to do that. Instead, Caleb took deadly aim with his grandfather’s pistol and dispatched a fellow to the watery depths before he could reload the cannon.
    A lad of no more than a dozen years kept Caleb supplied with ammunition while another did the reloading. Caleb switched between pistols until the Cormorant ’s cannons made a direct hit.
    The resulting fire sent the darkened ship gliding away. A second cannon shot made contact with the aft bow, and the vessel soon burned in two places.
    A cheer went up aboard the Cormorant . “Shall we give assistance, sir?” the captain called down to Caleb.
    “This is your vessel, Captain,” Caleb responded. “What say you on the matter?”
    The captain’s fists clenched. “I say we leave the cowards to their own devices. Likely they’ll survive well enough, though their vessel appears it will not unless they put out the fires.”
    “Twice this vessel has plagued us.” He stared at the flames now licking both ends of the ship. “Do you know of this vessel?”
    The captain shrugged. “Can’t say I do, but I’d warrant whoever’s at her wheel has a grudge against the Bennings. Seems likely, anyway.” He, too, followed Caleb’s gaze. “Though I’m thinking the lesson of not firing on a Benning vessel might be well learned now that they’re toasting their toes on their own firewood.”
    “Then proceed to Santa Lucida, sir,” he said as he watched Fletcher make his way across the deck. “Did you sleep through the excitement?”  
    “Hardly.” Fletcher looked around him, then at Caleb. “But I did have the good sense to stay out of the line of fire. I saw, however, you did not.”
    Caleb shrugged. “It’s the nature of battle, Fletcher.”
    The older man smiled. “How like your grandfather you’re becoming.” He grasped Caleb’s shoulder, then squeezed. “Indeed the naval department is getting a fine sailor. Now if there’s nothing further to keep my attention, I’ll seek solace in my bunk until morning.”
    “I haven’t sent the letter yet,” he called to Fletcher’s retreating back.  
    Yet he knew he would. Someday, God willing, he would find a way to combine his love of the law with a love of the ocean he hadn’t realized he still had.
    Only the Lord, however, could manage such a feat.
    “They’re turning about,” a lad in the riggings called. “All hands, Captain. They’re smoking fore and aft, yet they’re comin’ back fer us full sail.”
    Caleb strode to the quarterdeck and found the captain with