Free Hades's Revenge by T. Lynne Tolles Page B

hunkered down, trying to be hidden by the sides of
the ships. He and William fell into form and took a post at an open
spot near the stern and looked over the edge of the rail.
    There a few hundred yards off the starboard
side was a beautiful ship of pristine white sails coming on fast
and spotlighted by the full moon. Spread across the vessel, tiny
lanterns moved around with small black shapes attached to them,
looking like fireflies floating and darting on a warm summer
evening.
    The Revenge kept her sails stowed as
if it and its crew were peacefully sleeping on the lull of the
rocking waves and completely unaware of the encroaching danger. Could they really think they had the element of surprise on
attacking a pirate ship? Jessop thought. Fortunately, the Revenge did not have its colors up for all to see. That was
usually the case when they were on the attack—better not to
announce you’re a pirate when patrolling waters overrun with
incoming British boats.
    Jessop loaded one of his two pistols and
drew his sword. He adjusted his baldric since the weight of it had
changed and kept his eyes on the enemy. He could hear his father’s
voice in his ear reprimanding him for engaging to fight what was
clearly the Royal Navy with its blazing red cross and white ‘X’ on
a field of blue. It was going to be a long night.
    Jessop heard movement everywhere, above in
the rigging, below where the cannons were being moved just shy of
their position after loading and the ‘zing’ of swords on either
side of him being unsheathed. He felt the adrenaline rise within
him and his senses were on high alert.
    William was pulling an axe from his baldric
and Jessop saw the silver metal glint in the moonlight as he
twirled it around in his hand. “Be safe, Will,” Jessop said.
    “I’ll do my best. Good luck to you, Jess,”
William replied.
    William saw the cannons one by one appear
from their gun ports and with his small telescope he noted the red
uniformed men gathering to the sides of the ship with HMS Merriweather painted on the hull. The man at the helm wore a
black hat adorned with white swan and ostrich feathers. His sword
was drawn and held in the air like some kind of statue or monument
declaring its triumph. As they pulled parallel to the Revenge , his hand dropped, signaling whistles, bells, and
commands.
    As if being orchestrated by the enemy, the
pirate flag went up, revealing to all what the British were drawing
into. For every shout on the Merriweather , there were two
from the Revenge —a volley of shots, screams, bursts of
light, deafening booms, and smoke.
    William and Jessop popped up from their
hidden place, grabbing a rope dropped from the rigging men and
sailed across the gap of water between the ships. The same happened
from the Merriweather .
    Men fought valiantly sailing from one ship
to the other amidst the whistling of bullets, shrapnel, and cannon
balls. Some even engaged in sword fight as they glided through the
air, and quickly the water between the boats was bloodied and
littered with bodies and maimed survivors.
    Jessop kept an eye on William when he wasn’t
battling for his life, but William was able to hold his own, fling
his axe this way and that as ably as Jessop could swing a
sword.
    Bodies rained from the sky as two cannon
balls linked by a length of long chain careened into the navel
ship’s main mast, wrapping around and slicing through more than
half of it.
    Splinters of wood shot every way catching
Jessop’s forearm as it raised to come down on an officer’s
shoulder. In that split second of hesitation, the officer raised
his firearm and shot Jessop, grazing his cheek and taking a piece
of his ear before Jessop buried his sword deep into the officer’s
neck.
    Grunts of waning strength and cries of pain
wafted above the creaking of the main mast. The weight of its now
tattered sails was too much to bear, and as it snapped like a twig,
it took the other masts and rigging with it making a