Free The Only Victor by Alexander Kent

tell from where they stood now, here in the eyes of the ship.
    Archer leaned over to supervise as the charge was carefully tamped home. He said, “Some ’otheads double-shot their guns. But not me. Not in a little piece like this ’un.”
    Segrave heard the captain call, “Signal that bastard to heave-to!”
    Archer chuckled, “ ’E won’t take no notice!”
    Segrave was puzzled. “Maybe he cannot read our signals?”
    A seaman with the rammer grinned and pointed at the gun. “He’ll understand this, right enough.”
    The other schooner was showing her bilge as she heeled over to the press of canvas. There were several heads above her bulwark, but there was no response to the signal.
    Lieutenant Tyacke shouted, “Load and run out!”
    The shot was thrust down the muzzle with a wad to keep it secure. Then, with the hands hauling on the tackles, the little gun was run up to the open port.
    Archer explained, “Y’see, my lad, that bugger yonder has the wind-gage, but it will help us to put a shot down where we wants it.”
    Jay, the forgotten master’s mate, called from the foremast: “They’ve just pitched a corpse over the side, sir! There goes another!”
    Tyacke lowered his telescope, his eyes hard. “That last one was still alive, Mr Simcox.” The sudden formality seemed to add menace to the moment.
    â€œBeyond her if you can, Mr Archer!”
    Archer was crouching like an athlete, the trigger-line pulled taut as he peered over the barrel.
    He jerked the line and the gun hurtled inboard on its tackles, smoke fanning through the port even as they began to sponge out for the next shot.
    Segrave saw a sudden confusion of spray to starboard and for an instant thought that Archer’s aim had failed him. But the ball hit the water just a few yards from the schooner’s lee bow and ricocheted across the waves like a jubilant dolphin. Segrave pointed at the other disturbance which was already settling again.
    â€œWhat’s that? ”
    Sperry the boatswain, who had sauntered forward to watch, said harshly, “Sharks.”
    Segrave felt the nausea returning. Those two unknown people had been cast outboard like so much rubbish; torn to pieces while he had watched.
    â€œBosun! Stand by to sway out the boat!”
    Segrave raised his eyes again. The other vessel was heaving-to, her patched sails in wild confusion as she rounded-up into the wind.
    Segrave had the feeling that Miranda ’s people were used to this kind of thing. The arms chest was already on deck and open, and Jay came slithering down a back stay with a grunt, his hands already reaching for a hanger while someone passed him his pistol.
    Tyacke was saying, “I shall stand off. Board the schooner and search her. Don’t take any insolence from any of them. You know what to do.”
    Simcox beckoned to the midshipman. “You go with Mr Jay, lad. If that bastard is full of slaves we’ll have to release him. There’s no law against blackbirdin’, not yet anyways, an’ we’d get precious few thanks from the commodore if we return to th’ squadron with a load o’ slaves. Me, I’d hang the bastards an’ to hell with the law an’ th’ right o’ it!”
    Tyacke crossed the deck. “Help Mr Jay all you can. Arm yourself—they’re as treacherous as snakes.”
    Small though she was, Miranda appeared to tower over them as they tumbled into the longboat and cast off.
    â€œGive way all!” Jay grasped the tiller bar and watched narrowly as the men pulled strongly towards the other schooner.
    Sperry was in the boat too, a boarding axe and a heavy cutlass in his belt.
    â€œNo slaves,” he said.
    Jay asked, “How so, George?”
    â€œNo bloody stench, is there? An’ us downwind of ’em an’ all!”
    Segrave gritted his teeth and gripped the bulwark with all his