Chapter Twenty-One #2
Isaac stared, his jaw slack, until Samantha jabbed him with her elbow. “You better get this ship sailing, and fast.”
He raced to the helm and spun the wheel. “Get her moving. Full sail, now!”
The men already up in the rigging adjusted the sheets and the schooner headed into the harbor. The commander had been fished from the water and stood at the edge of the dock, his face beet red. “You’ll answer for this, you bastard,” he shouted, shaking his fist.
Isaac groaned as he adjusted the wheel. “I’m going to lose my job.”
Silas nodded. “We all are.”
Samantha had climbed the stairs to the quarterdeck and gave them a tight smile. “Nonsense. Catch Thorne, and all will be forgiven. Besides, that man was all pomp. He needed a good setdown.”
*
“Ship ahoy.”
Isaac’s pulse jumped as Samantha’s voice rang down from the crow’s nest. A moment later she swung from the ratline and landed gracefully on the deck.
She handed him the spyglass with a grim look. “I think we found him.”
He strode to the forecastle and trained the glass ahead. There. On the horizon, the dark smudge of sails. Three masts. His breath caught. The bastard had found himself a frigate.
Wind whipped through his hair as the schooner practically flew across the ocean’s surface.
With no cargo to weigh her down, and a light crew load, they made excellent time.
His sailors went about their duties, tense but sharp, sensing the fight ahead.
Samantha gave a longing gaze toward the dim haze of the coast. He didn’t blame her.
Would have been a hell of a boon if they had Christian at their side.
Isaac returned his gaze ahead. Nothing to be done for it now. He couldn’t hope to match Thorne in firepower, but perhaps they could gain an advantage by using the schooner’s speed and maneuverability.
“Double shot the charges—let’s make every shot count. Aim for crippling hits. We need to take her down by taking away her offensive edge. If we just try to sink her, she’ll take us out before we can do enough damage.”
The men were quiet, boots pounding the deck as they hurried to their stations.
Isaac pulled the looking glass back to his eye.
Thorne stood at the helm, hands steady on the wheel as the pirates readied their weapons.
With each passing minute, the frigate loomed larger.
Soon enough, he could read the vessel’s nameplate.
The Avenger. It certainly matched the captain’s lust for revenge.
And followed a trend—his last ship had been named the Reckoning.
When they were close enough to hear the muffled shouts of Thorne’s men, a puff of smoke blossomed from the pirate ship’s hull.
The shot splashed harmlessly ahead of them, sending a clear warning—come closer and feel our wrath.
Without flinching, Isaac steered straight ahead, the schooner surging through the waves with deadly intent.
The powerful vessel ahead of them began to turn, and Isaac’s knuckles tightened.
For the second time in about as many months, he stared down the barrels of Thorne’s cannons.
An unnatural silence stretched across the sea—the calm that always came before battle.
Isaac counted down in his head as the two ships barreled toward each other. Three. Two. One.
“Now!”
Thunder filled his ears as the guns fired, black smoke billowing across the deck.
At the same time, the deck below his feet shook, the ear-splitting cracking of wood piercing the air as Thorne’s men fired.
The ship shuddered as she took the broadside shots, each one splintering through the hull.
Isaac grimaced. Too much damage. He swung the wheel as fast as he could, battling the steady force of the water against the rudder.
“Haul her over! Keep her off their guns!” He aimed the ship across the Reckoning’s stern as the men above adjusted the sails.
Salt spray stung his eyes as his crew fired another round of shots down the deck of the pirate ship, making the crew dive for cover. Good.
Still, the pirate ship turned with them, lining up for another attack.
The schooner listed, already taking on water.
They couldn’t take much more. His heart pounded as the chaos of the attack thrummed beneath his feet.
The ship bucked under him, every movement sending a pulse of pain through his chest. If they didn’t make it to the windward side of the frigate, they were done for.
Before he could shout the orders, another round of cannon fire came, the deafening boom ringing in his ears.
A horrible crack split the air as the top half of the mast sheared, men screaming as they plunged into the sea with the rigging.
Still attached to the schooner, the lines went tight, dragging the ship to a near standstill, her bow swinging port.
Splintered wood and fallen sails littered the deck.
Isaac’s teeth ground together, his eyes darting over the damage.
The pirate ship closed in fast, and his crew were scrambling.
“We need to move! Get those lines cut—NOW!” His voice came raw, the urgency cutting through the chaos, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was already too late. Thorne had his ship pointed straight at them.
Isaac closed his hand around the hilt of his sword. “Ready your weapons!”
The crew pulled their swords free, all the while clearing debris from the deck, kicking it to the side and heaving it into the rolling swells of the ocean.
He caught Samantha’s arm as she yanked her rapier out. “If things go poorly, you need to know, Thorne’s target is the Ross family.”
Her eyes widened. “Surely, you jest?”
He gave a grim shake of his head and spun, drawing his sword.
The Avenger approached, sun glaring from soot covered gunports.
Men crowded her deck, armed with cutlasses and grappling hooks.
Isaac spread his feet in instinct, moments before the frigate crashed into them broadside, wood groaning as the two ships locked together.
Hooks arced through the air, biting into the schooner with sickening crunches, and the first wave of pirates swung over, boots hitting the deck with solid thuds.
Isaac leapt from the quarterdeck, meeting the charge of a cutlass-wielding foe.
The clash of steel rang out as Isaac’s sword met his opponents in a shower of sparks, the impact sending a tremor up his arm.
He barely had time to recover before the pirate struck again, a savage thrust aimed for his ribs.
Isaac twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow.
His grip tightened on his sword as he parried, using an underhanded jab to knock the pirate off balance.
With a swift thrust, he sent the man sprawling to the ground, the pirate’s last breath escaping in a ragged gasp.
Isaac barely had a second to recover before the next man closed in—a broad-shouldered brute, eyes wild with bloodlust.
Isaac dodged a heavy slash, the air shifting where the blade passed—too close.
He countered with a low strike, aiming for the pirate’s midsection.
The man grunted in pain but pushed forward, throwing Isaac off balance.
A fist collided with his jaw, sending him stumbling back, but he recovered quickly, spinning to face his opponent once more.
With a deafening roar, the marauder charged.
Isaac sidestepped, the man’s massive arm grazing his shoulder.
The impact knocked him back a step, but he twisted his sword, steel meeting steel with a clash that rang through his bones.
The man lifted his cutlass for another strike, but Isaac slid under the brute’s guard, his blade slicing upward, catching ribs with a spray of blood.
He struck again, his sword biting into the pirate’s exposed side.
His opponent’s eyes widened as he staggered backward.
Isaac pressed the advantage and spun, his blade driving into the pirate’s chest with brutal precision.
The hulking form crumpled, crashing to the deck with a thud.
A pistol cracked somewhere behind him and a man screamed, but Isaac had no time to look back as yet another pirate engaged him. His arms burned from the constant movement. Sweat poured down his face, and he swiped the stickiness of splattered blood from his brow in a furious motion.
Body after body fell, too many of them his own men. They were outnumbered—losing ground with every passing minute. The fight wouldn’t, couldn’t last much longer.
Enough.
“Thorne!” Isaac bellowed the pirate’s name.
He sprinted down the main deck, twisting around fighters and knocking blows aside.
There. On the forecastle, the silver-shot hair of his target.
The captain had engaged with a young sailor, looking bored as he deflected each frantic thrust. As Isaac raced up the steps, Thorne’s face changed, and he rained a series of heavy blows on the unsuspecting sailor.
The pirate twisted the man’s blade free and it clattered aside.
Lips curled in a wicked grin, his sword plunged down.
With a guttural growl, Isaac dove forward, his blade taking the impact meant for the sailor.
The force of the blow rang up his arm and he clenched his jaw.
Thorne’s grin widened. “There you are.” He slid his sword back and swung it at Isaac’s side, the movement quick and calculated.
Isaac twisted, the blade missing him by a hair’s breadth. He met the pirate’s next blow, a heavy downward arc, steel vibrating as their weapons clanged against each other.
He threw his weight into keeping the blades pressed together. “Call your men off.”
The captain’s eyes gleamed as his blade slid down Isaac’s. “Do you surrender?”
“Yes.” The word hissed out between his gritted teeth.
“A pity.” Thorne didn’t relent, his sword sliding closer to Isaac’s hands. He locked his forest-hued gaze on Isaac as his arms trembled beneath the weight of his sword. Finally, with a flick of his wrist, the captain disarmed him.
Holding the blade to Isaac’s throat, Thorne pushed him to the railing overlooking the main deck. “Hold! They yield!”
Somehow, his voice carried over the din of the fighting, and slowly the clanging of swords wound down. Isaac raised his hands, signaling his surrender to his men. His jaw clenched as the pirates began leading his crew to the deck, forcing them in a tight group around the broken main mast.
Isaac swung his gaze over to the frigate. “Where is she?”
Thorne’s brows rose. “Who”
“I’m not here to play games, Thorne.”
“What do you call this?” The pirate chuckled as he swept his hand across the blood-stained deck, littered with fallen bodies. “War is always a game, Lieutenant. One you chose to engage in, if I must remind you.”
“Only because you refuse to give up this foolish crusade.”
The sharp edge of steel jerked Isaac’s chin up as Thorne answered, his voice deadly soft. “I won’t give up until every last person has paid for their sins.”
Isaac held the pirate’s steady gaze. And I won’t stop until you’re behind bars. A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he kept the words to himself. Only a fool would dare goad the man pressing a blade to his throat.
Thorne lowered his sword and gestured to the two pirates nearest him. “Go retrieve my guest.”
While Thorne’s men did his bidding, Isaac scanned the deck, his eyes searching for Samantha’s familiar red hair. If she was hurt… He squinted in the sun. There. She stood flanked by two pirates, blue eyes flashing, her blood-stained rapier cast at her feet.
Her safety confirmed, he turned back to Thorne’s ship, where the men dragged someone from the main cabin. Isaac’s heart pounded when they turned and Josephine’s dark hair billowed in the wind. A gangplank had been lowered between the two ships and they dragged her across it.
Isaac started forward, but Thorne lifted his blade. “Not so fast.”