Free Blue Sea Burning by Geoff Rodkey

the
Grift,
wedged into the aisle between the port hull and the massive pile of water barrels that filled most of the space. Quint was standing on a barrel, examining the ragged mix of hammered planks, grain sacks, oakum, and pitch plugging the two-foot-wide hole that had nearly sunk us on the voyage in.
    It had been stabilized, but not truly fixed, and seawater was still bubbling through in spots and trickling down the hull.
    Quint whistled appreciatively. “Wot was it? Shell gun?”
    Healy nodded. “From a shore battery. How many hours to fix her?”
    Quint squinted, thinking for a moment.
    â€œIf we can careen her—”
    â€œThere’s no time. We need to set sail at the tide.”
    â€œCan ye wait a day?”
    â€œIt’s been risk enough staying in port this long. Best guess is Jones and
Homaya
are on a regular sweep between here and the coast. If we’re not out by tonight, like as not they’ll catch us either docked or in the dead miles.”
    Quint shook his head. “I can repatch. Shore it up a bit. But if ye want a true fix, I gotta get her out o’ the water.”
    â€œWe can dry-dock her in Edgartown. I just need you to get us there.”
    Quint snorted in disbelief. “Due respect, Cap—how ye gonna make port in Edgartown without gettin’ strung up fer piracy?”
    Edgartown was the colonial capital—the biggest Rovian outpost in the New Lands. I’d never been, but I figured there were plenty of soldiers garrisoned there. And piracy was punishable by death.
    â€œLeave that to me,” said Healy. “I just need a patch that’ll make the trip.”
    â€œAt wot speed?”
    â€œFourteen, if the wind’s right.”
    â€œWouldn’t risk more’n eight. And no promises if ye see combat. ’Specially against the likes of the
Red Throat.
” That was Ripper’s ship. “Wot’s
Homaya
sailin’?”
    â€œTwo Cartager men-of-war. And there’s five ships in all—
Frenzy
and
Blood Lust
have joined them.”
    That last part was news to me.
Frenzy
and
Blood Lust
were pirate raiders that, until now, I hadn’t realized were allied with the Ripper. Healy must have learned that since he’d been on Deadweather.
    Quint’s eyes widened. “All five of ’em? Against just us?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    His mouth fell open. “How in the name o’—”
    â€œNo time for the story,” said Healy. “How soon to get us repatched?”
    â€œWith the right material?” Quint gave the damage another look. “Five hours.”
    â€œI need you to do it in two.”
    Quint was looking a lot less thrilled about going to sea than he had been when we left the plantation.
    â€œAnd there’s the issue of your legs,” Healy added.
    â€œWot legs?” asked Quint.
    â€œThat’s the issue. How will you get around if we see combat?”
    â€œReckoned these three’d be my mates,” Quint told him, nodding at us. “Haul me where I need to go, plug shot if it comes to that.”
    Healy turned to look at me with concern. I shrugged.
    â€œIf your crew will have us . . . we need to get to Edgartown,” I told him.
    â€œThere’s no guaranteeing we’ll make it.”
    â€œI understand.”
    â€œNot sure you do,” he said. “Ever been in a sea battle?”
    â€œI was on the
Earthly Pleasure.
”
    â€œThat’ll be a picnic compared to this.”
    â€œI been in battles,” Guts offered. “Powder monkey.”
    â€œUnder whose command?” Healy asked him.
    Guts’s face twitched hard. “The Ripper,” he said, staring at his feet.
    Healy didn’t comment. Instead, he looked at Kira.
    â€œI have fought on land,” she told him. “And I am not afraid to die.”
    â€œI’d rather you were,” he told her.
    Then he looked back at me.