Free Ocean Without End by Kelly Gardiner

though.’
    I peered at the gash in his side. It was clean, and the bleeding seemed to be slowing. ‘Seems all right,’ I announced, as if I’d been a surgeon all my life. ‘I’ll just wrap you up, and we’ll get you back aboard Gisella .’ It did seem all right, compared to Harry or any of those other poor souls lying all over the ship.
    Miller ran off, cutlass in hand, to rejoin the attack.
    I was tying the bandage at Max’s waist, when there was a clash of swords quite near to us and Max cried out, ‘Look out behind you!’
    I spun around to see Carlo trapped in a strange embrace with a man in a blue uniform. Their swords were locked together, and they were both grimacing as they pushed each other backwards, first one way, then the next.
    The soldier grunted, shook himself free, and landed Carlo a thump on the head with his sword pommel. That decked him. His face went white and he dropped like a sinker. The soldier stepped quickly over Carlo and raised his sword. Above me.
    â€˜No!’ I shouted.
    I pushed Max to one side and rolled to the other. The sword came down on the deck between us with a thwack. I kicked out at the soldier’s knees, hitting him hard and knocking him off balance. As he steadied himself, I reached for Carlo’s sword and scrambled to my feet.
    The blue-coat turned to face me. Everything I knew about sword-fighting, every thrust and parry Flynn had taught me on those hot afternoons in the piazza , seemed to vanish from my mind in an instant. I drew the sword up before me. We were standing close, a sword’s length apart, face to face. He smiled.
    â€˜ Mademoiselle ,’ he said, bowing ever so slightly. I didn’t take my eyes off him.
    He lunged, so fast I only just blocked it in time. He was strong, far stronger than the boys in Santa Lucia. A few more blows like that, and I wouldn’t be able to hold him. But I was fighting for my life. Before, I had only fought for fun.
    I watched him. He was scared, twitching his coat nervously with his left hand. Another breath, and he’d try again. Now! A slash towards my head, parried high across my face, then another, weaker, thrust down low. I smacked it away hard. There! His arms were longer than mine. I had to keep out of his reach.
    But he wasn’t thinking clearly. I took a quick stepforward and feinted, the point of my blade flickering close to his shoulder. He panicked and stepped back. I could see he wasn’t prepared for this. He blinked. I lunged, fast, aiming just above his hand. He saw me coming, jerked his guard up. My blade circled his and slid under his fist, then I lunged again. I felt the tip of my sword jar on something. A belt, I hoped, not a bone.
    I heard Miller shout from somewhere, ‘Look at Cyg!’
    I took a step back. The soldier did, too. Then, ever so slowly, he crumpled to the boards. Blood gushed from a wound in his thigh.
    I’d done that. I had stabbed a man.
    Jem was beside me now, his blade pointed at the throat of my foe.
    â€˜Leave him,’ I said. The soldier was not dead. He was weeping.
    Jem didn’t move.
    â€˜Jem,’ I said, ‘is it all over?’
    At last he took the point of his sword from the man’s throat. ‘Aye, lass. The captain’s still down below raising hell, but the ship’s ours.’
    â€˜I’ll get back to the galley. Have them bring the wounded up.’ Suddenly I was very tired.
    The sword dropped from my hand.
    Jem nodded. ‘I will.’
    Slowly I reached down and grasped the sleeve of the blue uniform. The soldier gazed up through bleary eyes.
    â€˜Come on, then,’ I said, pulling him up. ‘Let’s be getting you patched up.’

7.
The flying Mermaid
    For days the two ships drifted, roped together, in a sluggish sea. We all worked like slaves to repair the damage and keep both afloat. The men worked on the beams and ropes, while Cook and I worked on the