Pirate Wolf Trilogy by Marsha Canham Page A

expected they would, and came on, all
six of them bristling with their own importance. We sallied forth
to meet them, feigning we were in worse straits than we were,
knowing that Victor Bloodstone, courtier to the Queen, nephew of
Elizabeth’s chief counsel, would be running out from behind the
island with all guns blazing.” He paused and tossed the
considerable contents of the cup down his throat. “He ran, all
right. Bearing due north and east the last glimpse we had of him,
with every square inch of canvas warped into the wind. He ran and
just left us there, one against six, knowing full well that this
time we were the
fresh, bleeding meat, and the Spaniards were the stalking
wolves.”
    Dante’s
throat was beginning to roughen from the spirits, but the blazing
blue eyes remained fixed and burning on the pewter cup. “My brave,
brave Virago” he
whispered.
    “ She took
them. Sank four and sent the other two limp pricks off, dragging
their sails behind them. There were sixty of us left at the end of
the day … sixty out of one hundred and thirty men, fighting on
decks that ran red with their own blood. When we returned to the
island to lick our wounds, everything was gone. All of it: the
gold, the silver, even the barrels of food and water. And what they
could not load on board the Talon ,
they smashed and threw into the sea. The wounded,” Dante finished
on a savage hiss of fury, “did not stand a chance.”
    He fell
silent and Pitt took up the remainder of the story. “We patched
the Virago as best
we could and rigged enough sail to catch the prevailing winds, not
knowing whether or not the two zabras managed to limp into a nearby
port to relay our identity and position. The ship was too badly
damaged and the crew too weak to have held off another attack …
which might explain, although not excuse, our extreme caution and
lack of manners this morning when we saw you sliding out of the
mist.”
    Spence
nodded pensively. He was dumbfounded, and more than a little
outraged himself at the treachery perpetrated on the crew of
the Virago. There
were unwritten laws, codes of honor among seafarers as sacred and
unbreakable as the laws of God. First among others was never to
abandon a sister ship in distress, and De Tourville, though half
French himself, had sailed the Virago under English colors with a mostly English crew. He was a
privateer and an adventurer. To be sure, some even called him an
opportunist and a pirate, but he was also a respected member of the
elite group of sea hawks whose skill and daring on the high seas
was the only thing standing in the way of Spain’s complete
dominance of the oceans as well as the New World.
    While publicly
commiserating with the King of Spain over the losses suffered at
the hands of the sea hawks, behind closed doors Elizabeth not only
encouraged her privateers to plunder and raid the rich treasure
ships that sailed between Panama and Lisbon, she was the largest
single investor in many of their planned expeditions. There had
been rumors flooding England for over a year now that King Philip
was at the end of his patience over Elizabeth’s feigned innocence.
Her fledgling navy of merchant marauders was costing Spain
staggering losses in shipping and prestige, and there were stories
of an enormous fleet of galleons being amassed in Spanish harbors,
a great armada of warships being built to carry an army of conquest
across the English Channel.
    It was no time
to hear of open treachery and cowardice among the English ranks.
Elizabeth would need all her best captains, her fastest and
deadliest ships, to counter any threat Spain might present.
    This was not to
say all the sea hawks were friends. Most were bitter rivals who
would no sooner reveal their plans and destinations to a fellow
privateer than they would voluntarily report the full value of
their plunder to the Crown. Even Jonas Spence had his secret
compartments and false walls, though both were sadly empty at the
moment.