Free Bring It Close by Helen Hollick Page A

expected Teach to do. “Back the fores’ls. Heave to!”
    The men were anticipating the orders, Jesamiah had personally ensured each one knew what was intended and what to do. Within moments Sea Witch had come to a halt. Teach had not been expecting it. Had not considered that an adversary would stop suddenly and sit there waiting for him. But it was too late to wonder at the tactics for the Adventure was running up alongside with not more than twenty yards between the two vessels.
    And Jesamiah was waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Not yet, not quite yet…
    Teach was raging at his crew to reload, the guns had been fired. The Sea Witch’s larboard battery was fresh, and ready.
    Nearly…
    “Nat!” Jesamiah shouted, “Get rid of his colours! Shoot his bloody ensign down!” He pointed at Blackbeard’s flag, the gruesome skeleton of a devil spearing a heart. “Make ready! On the up roll …Fire!”
    Sea Witch’s gunports belched a single broadside, all guns firing together. The Adventure shook visibly as each shot found a mark: railings shattered into deadly lengths of splintered wood, some one or two feet in length. The skeleton ensign was torn and shredded. The mast hung a moment, suspended, clinging by the quivering tendons of its stays and shrouds, then with a creaking groan and rigging popping like musket shots, it toppled in slow motion to wedge at a distorted angle, the dirty grey of the canvas falling like covering blankets over the decks and into the sea. Acting as an anchor it dragged the ship askew. Smoke loitered in a heavy, stinking pall. Too busy cheering, not a single man aboard the Sea Witch noticed their choking throats, stinging eyes and ringing ears.
    Crippled, Teach’s sloop slewed to a halt with not even a chance to fire another shot. Already the Sea Witch was under way again, manoeuvring, her captain intent on finishing off the second sloop.
    The Fortune of Virginia , Jesamiah was glad to see, had taken full advantage of the distraction and was making her escape at a gallop. He well realised that unless he could think of a good excuse he would be a dead man if ever he and Teach were to come face to face. He ought to finish him off here and now, but not with that second sloop behind them. She would have to be dealt with first.
    “Bring her round, Rue.”
    “ Allez !” Rue paused to allow the men to scrabble into position; “Man the braces! Tops’l sheets! Tops’l clew lines! Allez, allez; vite, vite ! We are not on some damned pleasure sail! Let go and ‘aul – another man on the mainbrace there!”
    As the shadows of the mighty sails passed across the deck and the bustle below, Jesamiah put the helm down. Protesting, the rigging and canvas clattered, screeched and mithered.
    “Meet her! Steady…let her fall off a point. Oui ! Secure!”
    At the helm, Jesamiah exchanged a grin of pleasure with his quartermaster. By Tethys, could Sea Witch turn!
    The men were a good, loyal crew. They were comrades, family; brothers. Jesamiah shifted position slightly, glanced at the compass in the binnacle to check their course; his right hand was on a lower spoke of the wheel, the left cradling an upper one. Beneath his caress, Sea Witch was alive, her minute jerks and vibrations directly communicating to him as clearly as if she were talking, and he talked back through his coaxing fingers and palms, feeling her respond to his touch.
    Now all they had to do was chase after that second sloop and finish it off – for the cowards had realised the superiority of Jesamiah’s ship and ability and were scuttling away. For a moment, Jesamiah wondered whether to let her go, to stay here and see to Teach, but he had no doubt if he took his attention away the sloop would change her mind and come back. No, she had to be dealt with.
    “Let go and haul!” Jesamiah called. “Set the lowers! We’ll finish her and come back for Teach. He ain’t goin’ nowhere for a while yet!” And the clewed up mizzen,