Blacksouls (Blackhearts #2)

“Webb,” Benjamin said, his voice grim.

They’d clearly underestimated the governor. Nathan had been right. “He must have had us followed. And now they’ve overtaken the Triumph.” Signaling to his crew, he motioned for them to follow him to the stairs leading belowdecks. To Easton’s men he called out, “Are your guns trained around?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Good. You there, stay here and open fire with your muskets. Shoot for their portals and make them scatter. The rest of you come with me and prepare to cast loose your guns!”

“But John could still be on board,” Benjamin said as they rushed down the wooden planks.

Teach had already considered that thought, but he wasn’t about to sit around and wait to be blown out of the water. John would never fire on a sitting ship without first knowing where his friends were. It was possible John was already dead. Another cannonball hurled toward them, the echo of the gun sounding across the open cay.

“We don’t have another choice.”

With a sad nod, Benjamin headed off in the direction of the captain’s cabin.

The low ceiling of the gun deck caused Teach to crouch. Normally the crew had plenty of time to prepare a ship for action when the watch in the crow’s nest spotted a sail at sea. But they only had a few minutes to prepare for this battle. Teach called for his gun captains to work together and Easton’s men to man their own cannons. They were shorthanded, but Teach refused to consider the odds of them not coming out of this encounter alive.

The men were quiet, waiting for their next command. “Level your gun and load with cartridge!” With a burst of frenzied movements, the men did as he ordered. “Out tampions!”

Once they’d removed the muzzles of the cannons, all eyes were once again on him. “Number one and three guns, you fire on my command.” Teach paused only a fraction of a second, then, “Fire!”

The world exploded around them as the guns let loose their deadly arsenal. Acrid smoke filled the cramped space, and the fading light of day had difficulty breaking through the wispy mists choking the men. The spongers immediately wiped out the guns, preparing for the next volley.

Too slow. They were too slow. Three cannonballs shot from the Triumph, but only one broke through the hull of the Killorn, sending a shower of sharp, splintered wood in the air. “Fire!”

The ringing in Teach’s ears intensified. He heard a shout.

“Captain!”

Teach turned to see Easton stumbling and carrying one side of a crate with his good arm and Benjamin carrying the other. “What are you doing?” Teach demanded.

Easton dropped the crate and pulled up the lid, revealing short iron bars bundled together with a length of rope. Bundle shot. They were normally used to take down rigging and masts, but because it wasn’t very accurate, could only be used at close range. But they were also known to cause devastating damage to flesh and bone.

“Where did those come from?” Teach asked.

“I told you the beauty of this ship came from within. You didn’t believe me.” Easton’s men rushed the crate and removed most of the bundle shot, just as another cannonball struck the Killorn.

“Did you have them when you went against the Deliverance?”

“Aye.”

“But you didn’t use them.”

“It wasn’t our intent to send you to your deaths.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the Triumph. “But that’s exactly where they’re going. Fire when ready!” Easton yelled.

The ship jumped beneath the explosions, and Teach held on to an overhead rafter as more smoke filled the air. Still pale from blood loss, Easton’s eyes were focused, his expression unforgiving. Gone was the flippant air of the rogue pirate. He was clearly a man intent on survival.

Teach’s men, now prepared to launch their own cannonballs, looked to him for permission. “Show them no quarter, for they’ll give you none!” Teach braced himself for the volley sure to come from the Triumph. Easton called out more preparations to his gunners.

“Fire!”

With teeth-rattling intensity, the cannons shattered the air once more. As the smoke cleared, Teach realized that there had been no answering strike from the Triumph. Easton raised a brow and made a motion with his hand. The men paused. Had the Killorn inflicted enough damage that the others had already given up?

One minute passed and then another, but the cannons of the Triumph remained silent. Leaning forward, Teach peered through the nearest gun port, careful not to expose himself to the enemy muskets. The Triumph had several broad holes in her hull. They’d managed to inflict significant damage.

The hair on the back of Teach’s neck stood up as he saw the men of the Triumph scrambling on her deck. But they were scrambling to the other side of the ship, out to the open water and away from the Killorn.

“Something’s not right,” Teach said, straightening. He headed for the stairs, but Easton reached out and stopped him.

“It could be a trick on their part.”

Teach shook him off. “I don’t think so. I’m going up.” With Easton following close on his heels, Teach reached the top, careful to keep low. Debris covered the deck, bits of canvas and chunks of wood. Easton growled, but the sound died in his throat when they saw the oncoming sails of an approaching ship.

“That’s the Fortune,” Easton said. “It belongs to Webb.”

As more of the sails and rigging came into view, Teach recognized the same simple lines and curves that matched the Killorn. The Fortune was the sister ship that had taken part in the attack on the Deliverance.

The knot in Teach’s stomach tightened. The assault on the Killorn would now be doubled, unless they sank the Triumph where she lay, preventing the Fortune from entering the shallow waters of the inlet. But that would leave them trapped as well.

A white cloud of smoke erupted from a gun port of the Fortune, sending a cannonball slicing through the air and hitting the Triumph with a resounding crack.

Teach and Easton shot each other confused looks.

“Did they just fire on their own ship?” Easton asked. He’d no sooner finished his question when another gun erupted, followed by another, with both balls hitting the Triumph.

Raising the spyglass to his eye, Teach scoured the deck of the Fortune, and he gave an exultant shout when he saw John’s face amongst his familiar crew.

Turning, Teach raced back down the steps to his own gun deck, calling out commands to prepare the cannons.

When the men were ready, Teach raised his arm. “First and third guns, on my command. Fire!” he yelled.

The world exploded at the eruptions.

“Fifth and seventh. Fire!” Teach was astounded at the detonation that rocked the Killorn beneath his feet. Even his men froze and paused, until they heard an exuberant shout.

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