Under the black flag tre.., p.1
Under the Black Flag (Treachery And Triumph Book 4), page 1
Copyright 2023 Cal Clement
All Rights Reserved
The characters and events portrayed within are fictitious.
Any similarities to real persons, alive or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written permission of the author.
ISBN-978-1-7376655-6-4
Cover Artist: Juan Padron
Printed in the United States of America
This one is for Jerry
Smooth seas don’t make skilled sailors.
UNDER THE BLACK FLAG
by Cal Clement
PART ONE
“Hoist the Colors”
1
‘H.M.S North Wind’
12 May 1809
17 degrees 43’ N, 76 Degrees 25’ W
A crack of lightning split the sky. It sent a flash of light through the storm cloud darkened sky and brought into clear focus an image that sent a chill through Lieutenant William Pike’s veins. He was facing three enemy vessels amid a furious storm. One of those ships he had already watched sink below the waves in a cove along the Haitian coast. Another of the ships was sporting red sails, an ominous sign. The third ship seemed to sail in a more haphazard fashion than the other two, like her crew wasn’t well seasoned to sailing in foul weather. The roar of cannons intermixed with rolling thunder and sent a screaming whistle through the wind and rain. He braced himself for the impact and opened his mouth to scream at the rest of the crew to take cover. Before his voice could form the words impacts tore into North Wind and threw him down onto the deck. Wood cracked and splintered. A hail of debris flew. Lines snapped and recoiled like deadly serpents over the deck of the ship. They had gotten the drop on him. He was outnumbered and positioned at a disadvantage. A thought crossed his mind as he lay on the rain soaked and windswept deck of North Wind, a memory of Captain Grimes and the Valor. Lieutenant Pike forced himself to his knees. A fresh gale blew droplets of rain into his face. The Maiden was sailing close to the ship with red sails while the third had made a clumsy tack and was struggling to right her course and remain with the others.
“Master at arms, prepare a boarding party.” Lieutenant Pike called out across the deck, “Quartermaster, give them a broadside and then come about on that separated ship.”
“Aye, aye!” the response seemed to come all at once from both men.
North Wind deck shifted with a tremble as her helmsman brought the starboard side battery to bear down onto the pair of reeling pirate vessels. Lieutenant Pike could see the flurry of activity on their decks. They were making ready to fire again while also dealing with the howling wind and waves. In this, he had a significant advantage. North Wind was a massive vessel and much better suited to slugging through the foul weather. He also had an overwhelming number of guns. Each broadside from North Wind would overpower the total number of guns from both vessels. Lightning split through the sky again as North Wind’s broadside aligned to the Drowned Maiden and the ship with red sails. The cry rose on deck and was repeated below an instant before cannons began firing in a deadly droll that drowned away the thunder and sent a plume of smoke into the storm whipped air.
Lieutenant Pike fixed his stare onto the two vessels and watched for the effect of North Wind’s broadside. To his delight a scatter of impacts scored hits onto the Drowned Maiden hitting her railing and hull in several places. The vessel with red sails did not escape unscathed either, a flurry of wooden planks and shards of debris could be seen flying through the air. The lieutenant narrowed his eyes and waited for the report that his batteries were reloaded. He glanced over at the third vessel which had drifted away from the first two. The plan Lieutenant Pike had formed was coming together, though it was a slippery thing, the smallest change could throw it off.
“They are turning to, sir! Looks like they’ve had enough!” a voice shouted from the starboard stern up to where Lieutenant Pike was standing.
“Very well, come about on our target. Let her taste the larboard battery and bring us up into pistol range!” the lieutenant shouted back. “Master at arms have your men ready to board!”
“Aye, sir!” the master at arms replied in a grizzled voice.
North Wind’s decks shifted hard as the helmsman brought her around to bear down on the third vessel. Lieutenant Pike stole fleeting glances as the Maiden and the red sailed ship. They had turned back with the wind to limp away and deal with their damage and wounded.
“Larboard batteries, ready!” a voice echoed up from the gun decks.
Lieutenant Pike turned and nodded to the quartermaster as the ship came into alignment with the remaining enemy vessel. Whoever was sailing it was unaccustomed to foul weather, her turns were dogged and sloppy, her sail handling looked as if it were being performed by amateurs.
“Fire!” a voice screamed out from the gun decks.
The roar of reports blended in a near simultaneous volley that trembled through the deck boards of North Wind and sent another billow of gun smoke whirling into the air. The sound of impacts followed. Wood split and shattered from a series of hits while several plumes of seawater rose high into the air from misses. Voices cried out from the deck of the enemy vessel in tones of pain and panic.
“Hard a-starboard!” A shout rang up from the quarterdeck.
Lieutenant Pike could feel the blood in his veins go cold. A series of shouts floated over the washing waves between North Wind and the enemy vessel. Panicked cries mixed with screams of the wounded as the sound of cracking wood split through the storm. Men jumped from the enemy vessel into the sea as the main mast wavered and shuddered. The splintering sound of cracking and twisting wood announced the doom of the ship as her main mast tipped and came crashing down into the storm-tossed waves. A shout of celebration rose from the deck of North Wind and Lieutenant Pike felt the chill in his blood boil away.
“Hold your cheers!” He shouted over the men, “The job is not done! Hold your cheers! We will board her and take the ship and whatever prisoners we can. Do no harm to anyone who surrenders.”
North Wind’s decks shifted again as the helmsman steered her onto a course to come alongside the wounded enemy ship. Sailors and marines gathered on the larboard rail with weapons in hand and tucked into their waistlines. Looks of fear and excitement were exchanged as they drew closer to the wounded ship. Lieutenant Pike stepped to the railing with a brisk pace and put one hand on the shoulder of a marine who stood ready to board.
“Take the ship quickly, men!” He shouted over the wind and rain. “Those other two ships could come about at any time. Let’s not be caught with our trousers around our ankles.”
A ripple of laughter made its way through the hands assembled at the rail. The enemy ship bobbled and tossed in the storm battered sea as grapple hooks were tossed onto its deck. The lines were hauled tight and the hooks bit into wood while North Wind pulled alongside the floundering vessel. In an instant, a gangplank flopped across decks and the boarding party crossed over to take their prize.
Lieutenant Pike watched as the lead element of the boarding party fanned out across the deck with their weapons held at the ready. Wind howled in his ears and drove rain down like needles against his neck. A chill worked its way through his spine and into his ribs. Something was wrong. He could feel it, deep in his bones. The scars he carried on his back from being keelhauled tingled as if they were still healing. His fingertips felt hot while the rest of his hands ached from the chill of the wind and the rain. A wooden clunk reverberated through the air. Lieutenant Pike snapped his gaze back toward the enemy ship’s quarterdeck just in time to see a tall, broad-shouldered man emerge from below deck with a cutlass in one hand. His black skin glistened as the rain soaked him and his arm rose high as he prepared to attack.
“There!” a shout rang into the storm from the boarding party. Several musket shots roared and sent little clouds of gun smoke into the wind. The charging man toppled to the deck, sword stilled gripped in his hand as the musket balls ripped into his flesh and spilled his blood to the deck. As if cued by the sound of the gunfire, the deck of the crippled ship erupted into a scene of pure bedlam. Men and women poured from the weather hatch and cabin onto the deck. Pistols roared. Swords clashed. Blood from both crews spilled onto the deck of the storm-tossed ship. For a moment, it was all Lieutenant Pike could do to watch as the chaos unfolded before him. Sailors locked into combat, blade to blade with the enemy crew. For the briefest instant, he held hope that the struggle would turn and come to a quick and decisive end. Then she came up on deck. A sword in one hand and a pistol in the other, her silky black hair twisted in the wind. Lieutenant Pike’s heart jumped into his throat. Her skin was lighter than Lilith’s, it couldn’t be her. But she fought like someone possessed by a devil. Her sword slashed at a marine and sent a spurt of blood into the wind. She raised her pistol and leveled it at a sailor before firing into his chest at point blank range. With a fluid motion, she tossed the pistol into the air and seized the barrel in her hand to use as a bludgeon. The dark-haired girl clubbed a sailor over the crown of his head before driving the point of her sword into the chest of another. Lightning ripped through the sky. Her eyes settled across the gangplank onto Lieutenant Pike before quickly turning back to the fight ra ging on deck all around her.
The lieutenant couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His boarding party was being cut to ribbons by a crew of Africans and a young girl who had barely been able to sail their vessel in the storm. He turned aft and found Lieutenant Thatcher staring with an open mouth and wide eyes.
“More men,” Lieutenant Pike shouted with an edge of panic creeping into his voice, “call up more men! I will lead them across myself. We must finish this now!”
With a deep breath, Lieutenant Pike drew his sword and stepped up onto the gangplank. The fight was pitched. Bodies of fallen sailors and marines littered the deck in between those of the slain enemy. Pistols and muskets boomed their reports and steel clattered against steel. A cry went up from the deck of North Wind and Lieutenant Pike charged across the gangplank with a score of sailors and marines at his back. He slashed down at a thin man who wielded a severed line with a sharp grapple hook attached to it. The blade bit the man’s skin and opened his chest from shoulder to sternum. In an instant, the lieutenant was engaged by two men, one held a musket with a bayonet that had been discarded by a royal marine, the other had a short sword in one hand and a rail pin in the other. He blocked a thrust from the bayonet and countered with a stabbing lunge into the attacker’s chest. With only a beat of time to spare, Lieutenant Pike withdrew his blade and managed to parry an attack from the second man’s sword before wheeling his blade around and slashing across the second attacker’s arms.
A series of shots thundered, and a cloud of smoke mixed with the haze of rain and wind. As the haze cleared, the lieutenant could see that he had turned the tide of the fight. The deck was nearly clear, with only a few enemy holdouts still pressing their counterattack.
“Enough!” he shouted as the smoke cleared away in a gust of rain laden wind.
The dark-haired girl stood with sword in hand, blood spattered across her face and seeping from a cut wound high on her arm. She raised her blade and twisted the point downward in her grip. A defeated scowl snarled from her lips as she drove the point of her weapon down into the wooden deck and raised her hands above her head.
“Bind their hands and lead them below,” Lieutenant Pike ordered. “The ship is too damaged to salvage as a prize.” He looked over at the surrendering pirates before letting his gaze lock onto the dark-haired girl. With narrowed eyes, he called out to the marines that began securing their prisoners, “Burn it.”
‘Drowned Maiden’
12 May 1809
17 degrees 43’ N, 76 Degrees 25’ W
The joy of firing first faded as quickly as it had come. It was replaced by terror. Terror and anger. Lilith watched as the massive line ship turned to and ran out three decks of gun batteries. Hopelessness reached up out of the sea and wrapped its chilling fingers around her throat until she struggled for breath. The Maiden couldn’t stand against this behemoth, not in open water. Her fears came to fruition as the ugly snout of cannons roared and spit fire and smoke behind whizzing balls of iron. Impacts tore into the ship beneath her boots. Fragments of wood sliced through the air as wind and rain continued in gusts and torrents. On impact, Lilith was knocked from her feet. She slid across the rain-soaked deck and slammed into the opposite rail of the Drowned Maiden. Screams rose through the storm. She fought her way to her feet. The wind seemed to gust all the harder as she ran back to face the damage that had been inflicted on her ship.
“Captain!” a voice shouted through the wind and rain, “Captain! We need to turn to! That’s the same ship that did us in the last time!”
Lilith turned and looked out over the gap of rolling gray waves. Clouds of gun smoke wisped away in the wind while the massive ship lurched into a hard turn. It was the same ship, or at least it was just as big as the ship that had sunk the Maiden before. She looked toward the bow of the lumbering vessel and watched as the last of the stern of Havana’s Mistress disappeared behind an enormous wave. Panic filled her. Havana’s Mistress was on course to run right into the navy ship’s broadside.
“Captain!” Chibs cried out from across the Maiden’s deck. “They blew a hole in our hull! We’re taking on water! We need to turn to and get out of here!”
Lilith turned toward Chibs; a reply formed in her mind just as the thundering report of a broadside of cannons filled the air. Her heart sank. A chill squeezed her ribs and refused to let her take in a breath. Just off the Maiden’s bow, she could see Batard De Mur adjusting sail and reeling as it turned with the wind. She was paralyzed. Men and women hurried across the deck; blood dripped from their wounds. Several bodies were scattered along the starboard side, casualties of yet again being outmatched. Her plan had been to slip into Kingston harbor and set fire to the ship that had sunk her before. She had failed, and more of her people had died for it.
The sound of splitting wood cut through the storm and a cheer rose from the deck of the large navy ship. Lilith gripped a stay line and heaved herself up onto a section of the starboard rail that had survived the volley. Havana’s Mistress had been de-masted, and the navy vessel was turning to come alongside her. Emelia and dozens of others were on that vessel.
“Chibs!” Lilith shouted as she found purchase with her lungs again, “Come about and ready at the guns!”
Chibs dashed from the quarterdeck to the rail where she was standing. “Cap’n, we’ve already taken some serious hits! Another volley like the last one could do us in! We can’t raise her from the depths out here!”
He was right. Lilith hesitated for a heartbeat. The sound of battle echoed through the storm as the navy ship began boarding Havana’s Mistress. The Drowned Maiden couldn’t stand toe to toe with this enemy. She was already wounded, and the advantage of multiple ships had slipped through her fingers with Havana’s Mistress being taken and Batard De Mur already turned with the wind. Pressing their attack would be suicide.
“Heave her about, Chibs. Turn with the wind and run out every scrap of sail we have. This is a fight for another day.”
Chibs nodded his approval. “Aye, Cap’n. A bitter taste for today, but we’ll go on living to fight again.”
Lilith stepped off the railing, her eyes still locked on the towering navy vessel. A shift in the deck announced that the Drowned Maiden was making her turn.
“Bring the wounded to me!” Dr.LeMeux’s voice carried through the wind from where he was kneeling near the quarterdeck. “Chest and belly wounds first, and anything that is bleeding profusely.”
Chibs sauntered to the helm where Omibwe was struggling to handle the ship’s wheel. “Here, lad. I’ll help you hold her steady. She is going to be a bitch to hold on course in this gale. Good job for two good men, but I suppose we will have to do.”
Batard De Mur had begun to make their run southward, ahead of the wind flying mains, tops and gallants. Her red sails billowed and snapped tight as they filled with wind. Her prow rode high on the sea, splitting through the murky gray waves and sending a bow wake out from her wooden hull. As Drowned Maiden came about, and her sails adjusted to fill with wind a shudder coursed through her decks. She was listing on the starboard side. Lilith wrapped her icy fingers around the pommel of her cutlass and glared back across the growing gap between her and her enemy. Havana’s Mistress was in the hands of the enemy now. Emilia, and so many others were either dead, or being fit with shackles. Lilith cringed inwardly. Her blood seemed to curdle in her veins. Chibs was right. Staying to fight the navy ship would be suicide. But it didn’t sit well with her. She felt like she was abandoning her mother all over again. Tears welled in her eyes and blurred her vision.
“We’re taking on water through a damned hole in our starboard side. It sits just above the waterline when we are cresting waves, but if she keeps listing much more than she already is, I’m afraid it’ll be the end for us. We won’t be able to bilge her out quick enough.” Chibs huffed as he made his way topside from the gun decks and holds, “We need to stop her up to get us out of this weather and into calmer seas, then we can repair it proper.”
