Free Bring It Close by Helen Hollick

a course that would run her up between the two sloops. A mile away, assuming there were now three sea wolves on her stern, the Fortune of Virginia was panicking, her crew clumsily hauling the sails and almost missing stays. She was losing way and the pirates, intending to come up on either side of her, were rapidly gaining. Enough for Teach, ahead of his consort companion, to fire two warning shots from his bow chasers. Skilfully, Jesamiah overhauled the smaller, less efficient sloop, taking all her wind as he surged past to leave her floundering with sails aback, draped and dangling like wet laundry. She was a waterlogged, worm-riddled old tub, not even fit for firewood.
    Most of her men, Jesamiah accurately assessed, were drunk. It would take them a while to sort themselves out again.
    Spinning the wheel and shouting orders, Jesamiah sent Sea Witch leaping after Teach’s Adventure . Several musket shots puffed from the Fortune . A foolish waste of powder and bullets, there could be no damage done at this distance. Why did they not defend themselves properly? Surely they had cannon? Surely?
    ~ Tiola ? ~ Knowing it would be useless, Jesamiah tried calling her.
    He had asked Isiah to take a good look with the telescope; no woman stood there. At least he had that to be thankful for. Like Alicia, Tiola should be safe in the hold.
    Teach, hollering abuse, fired his larboard cannon at Sea Witch but he was too late and not accurate, for Jesamiah was cutting in across his bow, running in at a right angle. Sea Witch opened fire and raked a rolling broadside, hurling carnage straight along the Adventure ’s deck from bow to stern as she swept past, leaving a wake of destruction to masts, sails and men.
    The Adventure shuddered, almost paused, but bravely ran on, Teach swearing and cursing as his bowsprit barely missed Sea Witch ’s stern. Only a few of his retaliatory shots slammed into her rails sending up shards of splinters, cleaving holes in the sails, causing rigging and shrouds to ping and snap. Most of the balls fell harmlessly into the sea.
    Grinning wickedly, ignoring the noise and damage, Jesamiah removed his hat and gave an insolent salute. So close were the two vessels as Teach surged forward and past, Jesamiah could see the glare in the furious pirate’s bulging eyes. Imagined he felt the ensuing projected spittle on his cheek. Jesamiah wiped it away. Sea spray. Only natural spindrift.
    He had no need to load again. His first broadside had been from the starboard battery. His larboard guns were primed and ready, and he had no intention of giving Teach time to do anything except die. Teach had the same idea, but with a semi-drunken crew he was slow to reload and had lost valuable seconds deciding whether to go on after his original Prize or alter course and rid himself of this irritating flea biting at him. He decided to abandon the Fortune of Virginia and swat at the flea. He tacked, raggedly, his bellows cursing his slovenly crew with every crudity imaginable.
    “Get this ship moving!” he roared. “Get after that whoreson bastard!”
    Sea Witch was already fifty yards away, every delay aboard the Adventure taking her a further distance.
    Had Teach also not been on the wrong side of sober, perhaps he might have wondered why Acorne was not yelling for all sail to be set, why the lowest sails were still clewed up, not tumbling in a roar and crack of canvas from the yards. Why Sea Witch was not running for her life. But he was not sober, was not sane, and unlike Jesamiah, did not have a disciplined, efficient crew.
    “Hands to braces! Stand by headsail sheets!” As Jesamiah shouted, calm, in control, he put the helm down – hard, and the ship’s bow fell away from the wind.
    “I has ‘im!” Teach’s crow of victory sounded across the water as the Adventure ’s yards eventually creaked around and she settled to run up on a parallel course. “Tha bugger’s done fer!”
    Jesamiah grinned. Just as he had