by L. A. Meyer
Damn! That rudder was built strong! Probably the builder thought about this possible eventuality, and curse him for his foresight! "Tink! Coming up on you! Try him!"
Crrrack!
Same result—point-blank range, but just some splinters. The rudder holds fast and now we are right up against it—no room to get away and fire again. Damn! Me and my great plans! We are lost! Unless...
...unless the San Cristobal does something really stupid.
A man appears at the rail above, and the first rank of Dragoons fires and chases him back, but not before he manages to fling something down upon us. It bounces once, twice, and comes to rest between Richard and me.
It is a bomb, with a mere six-inch fuse fizzing ever shorter!
Richard leans down and picks up the thing and regards it. "How kind of the Dons to provide me with a light." Then he holds the burning end of the fuse to his cigar and draws in deeply. "Ah, now that's much better."
"THROW IT OVERBOARD, RICHARD!" I scream.
"And waste this fine piece of ordnance?" he says, calmly, looking at the bomb sputtering in his hand. "Why, I figure we've got at least eight seconds left. However, I do believe that you all should take cover. Men, you, too."
"CLEAR THE FO'C'S'LE! GET BEHIND THE CABIN. IT'S GONNA BLOW!" I wail. "NOW!"
Everyone, soldier, sailor, ship's boy and girl, lunges for the scant protection behind the Nancy's cabin, as Captain Lord Richard Allen walks up to the bow and says, "This is what you wanted to get rid of, Pretty-Tail? Very well. Let's just put this right here."
He reaches over and tucks the bomb in the notch behind the upper pintle of the San Cristobal's rudder.
"That should do it," he says as he saunters back to join us. Meanwhile I have landed on top of Joannie, and she struggles to get her head up to watch.
"Keep your head down, fool, or you'll lose your eyes!" I shout as I push her back down and wrap my arms around her.
"Thousand six ... thousand five ... thousand four ... thousand three..."
There is a brilliant flash of lightning and then a tremendous ear-shattering CRAAAAAACK! of thunder.
Allen had miscalculated by several seconds and all six feet two inches and one hundred and eighty pounds of him, more or less, comes flying over the top of my cabin to land squarely on top of me.
"Richard! Are you...?"
No, he is not hurt, and his mouth has landed conveniently close to my ear.
"I believe this is where we left off, Princess?" he breathes into my ear and runs his hand in under my open jacket.
"I ... can't ... breathe..." wheezes Joannie from under us both.
I crane my head up and see that ... Yes! ... The rudder of the San Cristobal hangs loosely in its gudgeons for a moment, then falls with a great splash and floats away.
"Let me up, Richard! I must tell them!"
He rolls over, gets to his feet, and calls out, "All right, men. Form up. Same drill. Keep a sharp eye out. They might try that trick again."
I get up and Joannie manages to get a lungful of air into her thin chest.
"Joannie! Go down and get my Faber Shipping flag! Quick now!" She jumps up, sucking in air, and goes to do it.
Then I run across the deck to survey the damage. Yes, my foresails are in tatters, but that rudder is down! I leap up into my rigging and shout up to the Dolphin's quarterdeck, "Captain Hudson! Pull away!"
Heads appear over the side to look over at me hanging there in the ratlines and I yell, "Get in front of his bow! His rudder is off!" I point down at the wreckage floating below. "He is helpless!"
I know I should not presume to instruct Post Captain Hudson on naval tactics, but my mind is in a whirl. Thank God! There's Jaimy! Still standing! He does not look happy, but he is still yet alive and on his feet! Thank you, Lord! Orders are shouted and the Dolphin pulls away from the crippled San Cristobal. Any seasoned man-of-war's crew would know that a nimble craft like the Dolphin will now easily stay in front of a lumbering, rudderless tub like the San Cristobal, pounding her to pieces with relentless broadsides while all the Spanish ship could fire is her forward bow chaser, that puny gun being quickly silenced by the Dolphin's next broadside. The big ship shudders as another blast slams into her unprotected bows. Ten minutes later, she strikes.
The Spanish flag is hauled down.
"She has struck!" I scream, flying back down to my deck. "Davy! Tink! Get a grapple and a line so I can get up on her deck! Joannie! Daniel! Get the rope ladder! To me! Let's go!"
Tink swings a grappling hook at the end of a line that lies coiled about the crook of his arm and lets fly. The hook disappears over the rail of the Spaniard and the line is drawn back and ... Hah! ... It catches on something and holds. I grab the line, and putting my feet to the side of the San Cristobal, begin to climb. I feel Joannie and Danny hauling up behind me.
"Careful, Princess," says Allen below. "They have surrendered, but they still can be dangerous. I wish you had let me—"
"Danny! When we reach the rail, rig the boarding ladder so the soldiers can follow us up! Here we go! Now!"
I have my head over the rail and I see that it is Captain Morello, who, though wounded, is the one who has hauled down his ship's colors. He lies on the deck, his flag wrapped about him, his breathing labored, blood leaking from his side. On the other side of the quarterdeck is a helpless helmsman, his wheel spinning uselessly in his hands. And there, too, is Lieutenant Juan Carlos Cisneros y Siquieros, his sword out, raging against what has just happened to him, his ship, and his Spanish honor.
Not being totally stupid, no matter what anyone says about me, I wait till Davy has rigged the boarding ladder and I feel Richard and his lads swarming onto the deck beside me before I venture onto the quarterdeck of the San Cristobal.
I dash over to the fallen Captain Morello and reach out my hand for his sword. He looks up in his pain, and seeing a person in the full uniform of the Royal Navy, hands the sword to me. I take it and stride back across the deck to Cisneros.
"I am Lieutenant Jacky Faber, His Britannic Majesty's Royal Navy. You will surrender and give me your sword, Teniente Cisneros. Now."
He gazes incredulously at my outreached hand and my uniform, then he hisses, "Surrender to a cheap whore! Never!"
He raises his sword.
"You struck, damn you!" I shout, stepping back.
"It was that coward who pulled down our sacred colors, not me! And if it is the last thing I do in this world, I am going to kill you!"
I can tell he is beyond all reason. As he begins his swing, I whip out my remaining pistol and fire, putting a bullet in him, high on the right side of his chest.
He staggers, drops his sword, and falls to the deck.
Richard comes up next to me.
"Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, Princess," he says, and then shouts to his men, "Get these Spanish lads down below and lock them down tight! Shoot any that resist!"
None resist. At least they know the rules, even if their officer did not.
"Put up our flag, Danny. Quickly, now!"
A boat scrapes alongside, and armed British sailors swarm aboard. Then it is Jaimy who also stands by my side.
"What are you doing, Jacky? You can't just...," says Jaimy, alarmed and perplexed as he looks up at my Faber Shipping flag now snapping at the masthead.
"Just watch, dear one, and you will see," I say. "I am settling an old score twixt the King and me." I pick up Captain Morello's sword from the deck and wait for Captain Hudson to come on deck.
It does not take long.
He bounds onto the quarterdeck and looks at me, and then up at my flag. He does not look pleased.
"Good afternoon, Captain. Welcome aboard, I say, saluting. "As you can see, I have taken this fine prize..."
He is positively glowering now. "You have taken this prize?
"...and I would take it most kindly if you would present this ship to King George in return for my late ship the Emerald, which caused some d
iscord between His Majesty and me, a matter that I now hope is fully resolved.
I hand him the Spanish Captain's sword.
He is taken aback for a moment, and then he roars with laughter. "That I will do, Lieutenant Faber, that I will most certainly do!
Chapter 54
When the battle was lost ... and won, things grew very quiet on the four ships gathered there on that bloody morning, except for the moaning of the wounded.
After the San Cristobal had struck her colors, Flaco brought El Diablo Rojo alongside and shouted up at me, "I think we are done here for now, Jacquelina, my sweet little cactus flower, and I will say, adiós, mi amor. I will see you very soon."
I stand between James Fletcher and Lord Allen as I wave Flaco off, thankful that neither of them knows a word of Spanish.
"You have some very interesting friends, Prin ... Miss Faber," says Captain Allen, affecting a slight cough.
Jaimy turns toward me with a questioning look on his face, when I am saved from this situation by something far worse.
"Miss Faber?" comes a call from a young ship's boy below me on the deck of the Dolphin, which is now tight alongside us.
"Yes?
"Dr. Sebastian sends his respects and asks if you might assist him below," says the boy. "Things are quite awful in the orlop.
Ah. The Butcher's Bill is being totaled and it must be paid.
"Joannie. Get my medical kit. All of it," I say, taking off my jacket and handing it to her. "Then come with me."
She climbs over the side and returns quickly, the bag in her arms. I look down at Jaimy's bloody pant leg. "You, too, Mr. Fletcher, shall report to Sick Bay. Ah. Thank you, Joannie. Let us go over to the Dolphin. Excuse us, gentlemen."
The surgery is filled with the dead and dying, the weak and the crying, as we wade into it. I see the Spanish casualties are being brought down as well as our own, and the place is soon jammed from wall to wall with wounded men.
"Ah, Miss Faber. So good of you to help, says Dr. Sebastian, up to his elbows in gore. "Take that table there. We will triage and give you the less severely wounded. Call me over for anything you can't handle. And you'd best put on one of those smocks.
I do it, and Joannie opens my medicine bag and begins laying out the instruments on a side table. On my instruction, she pours some pure alcohol into a shallow pan, and into it she puts needle and thread and several tools. Bandage rolls are at the ready, as well as a cup for laudanum—those unfortunate pirates had drunk up all of mine, but Dr. Sebastian has an ample supply. There is an especially awful shriek from the other table and then the sound of a saw cutting through bone. Joannie is ashen but relatively calm.
"All right," I say. "Let's get on with this."
***
Lie back, sailor, that's it ... Easy now ... Well, that's not too bad. Have a sip of this. It will make you feel ever so much better. You'll feel the straps going on now, but don't worry. It's just to make sure you don't move while we take care of you ... Bite down on this leather plug ... All right, here we go ... I'll hold and you sew, Joannie ... A little bit more ... Brave boy! Done!
Next.
Here we go ... Up there, now ... You'll have to turn over a bit ... That's got it. Ready now ... Good ... Now the spirits of wine.. .All right, close it up. Tell the Bo'sun no work for you till we say so. There we go...
Next ... and next ... Good God, is there no end to this? No ... no, I'm all right...
Next...
Joannie ... I can take care of this one by myself. See that boy lying on the floor? Right. I fear his time is not long. Go over and kneel by his side and hold his hand ... If he cries out for his mother, lift his head and put it to your breast. Go now...
Next...
Eduardo! Mi amigo! Rest yourself and let's see ... Not too bad. How are the others ... Jesus, Manuelo, and young Mateo? Ah good, I am so glad to hear that. I know they hate their confinement, as I have been similarly held. But that will be over soon, and you all will be proud Spanish seamen again ... Hold still now ... Some salve on your burns ... There...
Next...
Ah, Joannie ... you are back. I felt it would not take very long ... that poor boy. But thank you, child, for doing what you did ... Take comfort in knowing that you have eased the passing of another soul ... Don't cry now ...
Next...
Well ... is it not Lieutenant Cisneros, unconscious ... I'm afraid it is ... Lay him back and take off his shirt. Hmmm ... the bullet went in but did not come out the back. We shall have to probe ... Wait, he is coming around—too bad for him ... Here, Don Juan Carlos, drink this ... What, I am the Angel of Death? No, Comandante, I may have been a thorn in your side but I am not that. I will do what I can to save you. Is he strapped in? Good. Bite down on this ... Forceps, please, Joannie. Hold on, Sir ... I put that bullet in you and I will get it out. Ready, now ... Ungh! Got it. All right ... douse the hole with alcohol and close him up. No, Don Cis-neros, I did not do that for spite ... It will help you heal. Now get him into the stretcher. Vaya con Dios, Teniente, for it is He, not me, who will now decide your fate.
Next...
Ah, Jaimy, it's about time you came down. I know, Duty and all ... Well, welcome to the Society of the Flying Splinter, Jaimy. You are the third member of the Brotherhood to join that exclusive club, you know—both Benjy and I can testify to the pain of that particular wound. But steady on and we'll fix you up. Do you need the restraints? No? All right, take a sip of this ... That's it ... Now bite down on the leather. Joannie, take the scissors and cut open the pant leg ... Hmmmm ... Right, there's the little blighter. Pliers, please. Thanks ... Ready, dear?.. .A quick jerk ... There, it's out and the wound looks clean. Now for a splash of alcohol ... Iknow, I know it hurts, dear, but I think it's good to keep off infection ... What ... What are you trying to say, Jaimy? Here, let me take that plug out of your mouth ... What, you release me from my vow of marriage? You silly boy, is it because of Captain Allen? Oh, do be quiet, Jaimy, I swear. Sometimes you can be just too damned noble for your own good. Now open up again and bite down while we sew you up. Use a nice tight overstitch, Joannie. Make it neat, for I intend to be looking at that leg for a good long time. That's it ... bandage now ... not too tight ... Good ... Up with you now, dear one. I will see you later.
Next ... and next ... and next...
Joannie and I stumble out of the orlop several hours later, stupefied and bloody. I put my hand on her shoulder and say, "A hot bath for us, Sister. I think we deserve it.
She says nothing, and I look down at her hard face and say, "You are wondering why I had you do that? Why I took you down into that hell?"
No answer, but I think I see her head give a quick nod.
"It's because I never want you to think of battle as anything fine or glorious or anything but pure butchery," I say, hugging her to me. "What you saw down there, Joannie, is the real face of war. Remember it when your own sons play at their games and wave around toy swords and vow to perform deeds of great valor. And remember that over there, too.
On both of the big ships, the dead are being prepared for burial. Those who have perished are sewn up in their hammocks by their mates and are lined up next to the rail, where they wait for the words to be said over them as they are slid off into the sea. Some of the Spanish sailors have been let out to accomplish the same sad duty with their own fallen comrades.
"And now I think some clean, hot water is just the thing for us. I cuff her head lightly. "And this time, I'll even let you get in first ... but you'd better not..."
At this she laughs a little, and we go down into my cabin.
The next few days are an absolute flurry of furious activity. Repairs on the late San Cristobal go on day and night, and I see very little of Jaimy. I, on the other hand, am again going down in the bell and bringing up the last of the treasure from the Santa Magdalena. And, since I am back in my diving rig, a lot is seen of me, to the delight of many, it seems.
Men, I swear.
; Captain Allen, since it is his job to guard the gold that is being brought up and transferred to the Dolphin, is always in attendance, it seems, and plainly quite pleased with both his duty and my choice of costume. Jaimy is totally consumed with work on the rechristened Saint Christopher, which is probably to the good considering his state of mind as concerns my lack of propriety. Poor lad, he should be used to it by now. And, actually, I think he is. 'Course, being the envy of every man aboard doesn't hurt, either. These men have been at sea a long time, and being the only girl of age aboard ... well, I've generally found it to work to my advantage and now to the confirmation of Jaimy's reputation as a lad handy with the ladies.
"Born to be in the water, like the mermaids, nymphs, and naiades of old, Lord Allen pronounces grandly, as I come dripping back onto the deck of the Nancy alongside the latest net bag of ingots. "Come ye gods and behold the lovely Miss Jacky Faber in her proper element. Like unto the Rhine maidens and the Lorelei, singing songs and luring poor sailors to their doom...
Pretty poetic for a soldier, I must say.
"...and with a comely handmaiden by her side, as well.
By this he means Joannie, whom I have allowed to dive with me down to the Santa Magdalena herself, the girl having proved her mettle time after time on this journey. The first time down, I show her the stash in the cave and hold my finger to my lips. She grins and nods, and we bring up more from the wreck ... and add even more to the stash.
Back down again...
And, no, Jaimy is not permitted to share my bed again, to my great sorrow. The mission is now considered too important to indulge the whims of young love, as the work on the Christopher and the Dolphin goes on around the clock. The only breaks we get are the dinners in Captain Hudson's cabin after the work of the day is done, and riotous dinners they are, in spite of the general exhaustion. I sit with Jaimy at my side and sometimes with Richard on my other side. Yes, the tale of my naked romp across the decks of the Nancy and the Diablo has come out—I blame Daniel ... or could it have been Joannie? Who knows, and who cares, for it is too good a story to remain secret long. And if it causes the midshipmen to blush mightily in my presence, well, I wish them the joy of their imaginings.
