idea how in the hell to explain
away what had just happened... again.
Chapter Six
“Don’t ask!” Jared said as he strode across
the quarterdeck. His shirt and breeches were soaked and he didn’t
want to explain to Padriac how they got that way. And from the
expression on his friend’s face, Jared assumed that question was on
the tip of his tongue.
Scooping up his spyglass, Jared focused on
the armada of sails dotting the horizon. “My God,” he breathed,
slowly lowering the brass tube.
“Rather impressive, wouldn’t you say?”
“ ‘Disastrous’ is more the word I’d use. Pile
on the topsails.”
Padriac relayed the order, then leaned
forearms on the rail. “What’s your guess? Have they spotted
us?”
“Spotted? Aye. Whether or not they choose
pursuit is another question. Perhaps they’ll think us of too little
consequence to bother with. But regardless, I’d wager we’re dealing
with the British Grand Fleet here.”
Padriac only nodded as the Carolina ’s
crew set about skimming the vessel across the water with all
haste.
By the beginning of the next watch the
question was answered. The British were in pursuit. Not the entire
fleet. However, two cruisers had peeled off and were gaining on the
American schooner.
“Damn.” Jared pounded his fist on the
railing. “I was hoping they’d consider us unimportant.”
“I think they recognize the Carolina .
Your reputation comes back to haunt.”
“Very amusing,” Jared said as he studied the
sky. “ ‘Twill be twilight soon. If we can hold them off till then,
we might have a chance to lose them in the dark.”
But two hours later, as the shadows
lengthened and the ocean lost its sun glow, the British vessels
drew closer. The two cruisers each sported more guns than the Carolina , and as Jared watched from the quarterdeck the
British tars were busy opening the gunwales.
“They mean to make a battle of it,” Padriac
said, coming up behind where Jared paced from the wheel to the
rail.
The Carolina was a whirlwind of
activity. Cannons were rolled into place, and sand strewn on the
deck. But the American ship sported only sixteen guns, all
four-pounders, and thirty swivels. No match at all for the heavily
armed British duo.
“We have maneuverability,” Jared said, a
worried frown creasing his forehead, “but they certainly have us
beat in firepower and speed.”
It had been hours since the captain left his
cabin. Merideth had sopped up the soapy water, and waited. If there
was to be a battle, it was certainly taking its time in coming.
Earlier, from the transom windows, she’d noticed two ships. But now
she couldn’t even see them.
She was tired and hungry and bored. And more
than a little curious to find out what was going on. No one had
brought an evening meal, and Tim hadn’t come back to see her. After
testing the door and finding it unlocked, she decided to go above
deck.
Merideth stepped through the hatch just as
the first broadside hit the Carolina . The evening twilight
was brightened by an explosion of orange-gold light as the
thunderous roar split the silence. Men screamed, and as Merideth
watched, stunned, a sailor threw down his comrade and rolled him on
the sand-strewn deck, extinguishing the flames that licked up his
back.
Horrified, her hand clasped to her mouth,
Merideth retreated till her spine straightened against the
mainmast. Men sweated and swore, sponging the great guns and
lighting the fuses. There wasn’t a moment of quiet... a moment of
peace. Smoke filled the air, making her eyes smart, and Merideth
scrubbed at the tears that flowed down her cheek. This wasn’t what
she’d expected.
This was horrible, and she couldn’t imagine
how these men endured it.
More screams and curses drowned out
Merideth’s sobs as another explosion filled the air with splintered
wood. Fires erupted on the deck, and tars scrambled to dump sand
and water on the burning wood.
This was war and death. And Merideth could
away what had just happened... again.
Chapter Six
“Don’t ask!” Jared said as he strode across
the quarterdeck. His shirt and breeches were soaked and he didn’t
want to explain to Padriac how they got that way. And from the
expression on his friend’s face, Jared assumed that question was on
the tip of his tongue.
Scooping up his spyglass, Jared focused on
the armada of sails dotting the horizon. “My God,” he breathed,
slowly lowering the brass tube.
“Rather impressive, wouldn’t you say?”
“ ‘Disastrous’ is more the word I’d use. Pile
on the topsails.”
Padriac relayed the order, then leaned
forearms on the rail. “What’s your guess? Have they spotted
us?”
“Spotted? Aye. Whether or not they choose
pursuit is another question. Perhaps they’ll think us of too little
consequence to bother with. But regardless, I’d wager we’re dealing
with the British Grand Fleet here.”
Padriac only nodded as the Carolina ’s
crew set about skimming the vessel across the water with all
haste.
By the beginning of the next watch the
question was answered. The British were in pursuit. Not the entire
fleet. However, two cruisers had peeled off and were gaining on the
American schooner.
“Damn.” Jared pounded his fist on the
railing. “I was hoping they’d consider us unimportant.”
“I think they recognize the Carolina .
Your reputation comes back to haunt.”
“Very amusing,” Jared said as he studied the
sky. “ ‘Twill be twilight soon. If we can hold them off till then,
we might have a chance to lose them in the dark.”
But two hours later, as the shadows
lengthened and the ocean lost its sun glow, the British vessels
drew closer. The two cruisers each sported more guns than the Carolina , and as Jared watched from the quarterdeck the
British tars were busy opening the gunwales.
“They mean to make a battle of it,” Padriac
said, coming up behind where Jared paced from the wheel to the
rail.
The Carolina was a whirlwind of
activity. Cannons were rolled into place, and sand strewn on the
deck. But the American ship sported only sixteen guns, all
four-pounders, and thirty swivels. No match at all for the heavily
armed British duo.
“We have maneuverability,” Jared said, a
worried frown creasing his forehead, “but they certainly have us
beat in firepower and speed.”
It had been hours since the captain left his
cabin. Merideth had sopped up the soapy water, and waited. If there
was to be a battle, it was certainly taking its time in coming.
Earlier, from the transom windows, she’d noticed two ships. But now
she couldn’t even see them.
She was tired and hungry and bored. And more
than a little curious to find out what was going on. No one had
brought an evening meal, and Tim hadn’t come back to see her. After
testing the door and finding it unlocked, she decided to go above
deck.
Merideth stepped through the hatch just as
the first broadside hit the Carolina . The evening twilight
was brightened by an explosion of orange-gold light as the
thunderous roar split the silence. Men screamed, and as Merideth
watched, stunned, a sailor threw down his comrade and rolled him on
the sand-strewn deck, extinguishing the flames that licked up his
back.
Horrified, her hand clasped to her mouth,
Merideth retreated till her spine straightened against the
mainmast. Men sweated and swore, sponging the great guns and
lighting the fuses. There wasn’t a moment of quiet... a moment of
peace. Smoke filled the air, making her eyes smart, and Merideth
scrubbed at the tears that flowed down her cheek. This wasn’t what
she’d expected.
This was horrible, and she couldn’t imagine
how these men endured it.
More screams and curses drowned out
Merideth’s sobs as another explosion filled the air with splintered
wood. Fires erupted on the deck, and tars scrambled to dump sand
and water on the burning wood.
This was war and death. And Merideth could
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