The Reaper tfa-1

by Michael Aye

  “Even her sails are black,” Buck said. “Just like what that poor sod we plucked from the ocean told us.” The lookout called down again, “The ship is tacking, sir, and appears to be opening her larboard gun ports.” Buck caught Anthony looking up and volunteered, “She’s carrying every scrap of sail we got, sir.” Even as he spoke the pirate ship had closed with Rascal and was ready to let loose another broadside.

  Anthony ordered Buck, “Fire the bow chasers!”

  “Sir?” Buck looked surprised, not sure he’d heard right.

  “Fire the damned gins!” Anthony snapped.

  No sooner had the order been repeated than the long nines let loose. It suddenly dawned on Buck that Anthony was trying to attract attention to Drakkar, and away from Rascal. The realization caused him to he embarrassed that he hadn’t immediately understood Anthony’s actions.

  Ignoring Drakkar’s bow chasers, the black ship let loose a salvo on Rascal. The salvo was ragged, but very effective. Every gun appeared to hit its target. Rascal’s foremast was over the side; the main mast was leaning and might fall. The bowsprit was intact, but the jib and fore-staysail, along with most of the rigging, were hanging in the water, acting like a sea anchor. Great sections of the bulwark were blasted away. Guns were upturned, and a large section of the transom was destroyed.

  Anthony had the gun crews continue firing the bow chaser several more times, but it was more to vent frustration than any chance of hitting anything. By the time Drakkar was up on Rascal, the black ship had run with the wind. Anthony was torn between giving chase and stopping to help Rascal. Anthony decided to heave to as the black ship had hauled her wind in the direction of the squall. The likelihood of overtaking the pirate vessel was remote. Once she caught tip with the squall, she could easily lose herself. Anthony’s decision to not give chase was also based on the fact that his crew had been largely depleted to man the prizes that had already been captured. To defend Rascal was one thing. However, to seek out and engage a fully manned pirate vessel the size of the black ship would be not only foolish, but also suicidal considering the large number of captured pirates already on board Drakkar. He’d get no thanks from the admiralty for having Drakkar taken by a bunch of damn cutthroats.

  ***

  Boarding Rascal, Anthony could see the destruction and the horror the crew had faced from such an overwhelming foe. Men were lying on deck crushed by upturned guns and fallen spars. Some were groaning in agony, their bodies impaled with large splinters. Others were mercifully dead, so great were their wounds.

  “Bloody sodomites,” Peckham had shouted, his blood boiling for a fight. “Poxxed bastard won’t stand and fight man to man. He has to go after a puppy.” The master’s sentiment was felt throughout.

  The Rascal had been battered all right. Drakkar’s crew members continued to search through the wreckage for survivors among the dead. They lay scattered beneath the fragments of cordage, netting, broken timbers and general carnage.

  A couple of petty officers had gathered some of the survivors in an area where the master’s cabin had been. Now all that remained of the raised area was a handful of splintered planks. Walking toward this area, Anthony noticed how a layer of smoke seemed to hang in the air a few inches above he deck. This, mixed with the haze left from the recent squall, gave Rascal’s deck an even more ghastly appearance. Reaching the area where the master’s cabin had been, Anthony found Pitts. He’d been laid out on a plank by one of the crew, who was trying to comfort the lieutenant until the surgeon arrived. Pitts had been shot in the chest, and a large splinter protruded from his groin. The surgeon arrived and did a quick exam. He looked at Anthony and shook his head. Pitts tried to sit up, but pain shot through him. Crying out, he fell back on the plank. One of the petty officers had taken a discarded coat and tried to fashion a pillow for him.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, sir,” Pitts was speaking, his voice cracked and strained.

  “Shh, don’t talk now, Merle. Let’s get you well,” Anthony said taking the lieutenant’s hand in his.

  “She came right outta the squall, sir, with guns blazing. We never even knew she was there till it was too late. I’m…I’m sorry, sir.’’

  Anthony tried to quiet the dying man and make him comfortable. “It’s not your fault, Merle. Rest now.”

  Silas had brought a small cup of wine and tried to help Pitts take a drink, but the cup was pushed aside.

  “I want to…thank you, sir…for trusting me.” Then he was gone.

  Anthony had the body taken aboard Drakkar. It was a somber group that carried the young lieutenant’s body back to the frigate to be made ready for burial. Pitts had been well liked by his fellow officers and the ship’s crew, and would be missed. As a flag was being draped over Pitts body Anthony gazed upon the crew. Heads were bowed in respect for Pitts and other crew members who had been slain by Reaper’s attack. Tears drained from eyes and dripped onto the deck. Anthony gave a nod to Buck who ordered “hats off.” When there was silence Anthony read the customary passage from the Bible and Lieutenant Pitts body was commanded to the deep, along with the other fallen crew members.

  After a respectful pause, Dawkins spoke what they all felt, “Bloody sodomites has hit us’ns good. They got our ‘tention but they’s gonna pay. I lost some good mates along with Mr. Pitts and I don’t take kindly how the bastards went about it. We’s with you cap’n.”

  “Aye, aye,” other crew members chorused.

  “It’s hard to find a silver lining after what we’ve gone through today, captain,” Lieutenant Dunn stated, “But if there is one, the damned pirates have embittered the men so that I wouldn’t want to try to stop them from butchering the rogues.”

  “Aye,” Buck joined in “I doubt they’d take kindly to taking prisoners.”

  Anthony had to agree. A new air of determination seemed to prevail. However, burying those whom you put in harm’s way was one of the most difficult parts of command. Anthony couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt, but he knew he must carry on. He had to carry on.

  ***

  Later, Buck, the carpenter, and the bosun met with Anthony. “Most of the damage was done ‘betwixt wind and water,” the carpenter reported. “Therefore, she’ll float. However, with the foremast gone and the mainmast hit, it will take awhile to get her re-rigged and back to English Harbour. I’ll want to fish the mainmast, proper like, otherwise I’m not sure she’ll take the strain.”

  Buck spoke up. “Sir, let’s put some of the prisoners to work putting Rascal back together. Lieutenant Dunn’s marines can keep them covered.”

  “Aye,” chimed in the bosun. “And a bare-o-net in the arse once in awhile to keep the whoresons moving wouldn’t be amiss I’m thinking.”

  Bart had walked up during the last of the conversation and heard the bosun’s comments. He’d come to tell Anthony that Gabe and Dagan were alongside, and would be present any minute. Seeing the look in Anthony’s eyes almost frightened him. He’d never seen such a determined look. He spoke his feelings aloud, “I wouldn’t want to be that damn pirate as he headed back toward Drakkar. ‘The Grim Reaper.’ Well, he ain’t seen bloody grim like the shit for brains sod is gona see now he’s done crossed with me cap’n.” Buck wondered if Bart would ever stop calling Anthony captain, but he agreed with Bart’s statement.

  Dagan had overtaken Bart, and overhearing his words, added, “Aye! I feels his time is nigh but ‘e won’t go quietly. He’ll be gone, but not quietly.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sight of the small flotilla limping into English Harbour created a different type of stir than previous times when Anthony’s squadron proudly sailed its prizes in. Much of Rascal’s damage had been temporarily repaired, but huge scars still remained, attesting to the battering that she’d taken. Commodore Gardner had met them in a guard boat.

  Upon hearing how the Reaper had viciously attacked Rascal, the commodore waxed livid. “He’s trying to goad you, make you make a mistake Gil, so be caref
ul. You’re hurting him with all the prizes you’ve taken and men you’ve either killed or captured. He’s got to do something.”

  Anthony understood the wisdom in Gardner’s words. Before going ashore, the commodore vowed, “We’ll fix up Rascal. The dockyard will work night and day if they have to, but we’ll have repairs completed so Rascal can return to her duties before you know it.”

  The entire attitude seemed to change on the island of Antigua. The islanders had come to look at the men under Anthony’s command as their own. Now, everyone felt the loss of Lieutenant Pitts and many of his crew. The increasing reports of hostilities between England and the colonies only added to the people’s anger. The hostilities were now rumored to have gone beyond verbal. The master of a mail packet had just returned from Halifax. Word had gotten to the commander in chief of that station that colonial men in whale boats would dash out of hidden creeks and coves to harass British ships tiding at anchor in Boston Harbour. The master went on to say they had removed channel buoys and had gone so far as to burn lighthouses. Needless to say, the concern was great, and British forces in the colonies were having a time deciding who was loyal and who was not. It was not uncommon for a father to profess loyalty to the crown while his son openly chose rebellion. Some of the would-be loyalists kept quiet for fear of reprisals from rebellious colonists. The British soldiers stationed in the colonies were vastly out-numbered, and could do little by way of affording protection. Many felt Lord North could have done more to halt the escalating difficulties.

  Standing behind the desk in his office,

  Commodore Gardner peered down at the ships

  anchored in the harbor. He had to squint to keep

  the sun from hurting his eyes. Angrily, he snatched

  the curtains together to block out the blinding rays.

  “Lord North underestimates the colonies, Gil, I

  tell you. He takes them too lightly. They’ll fight

  and fight like no enemy we’ve dealt with in the

  past. I doubt they’d stand at ranks and fire as if on

  parade. Nay, it’ll be hit and run. They’ve fought

  the native Indians, and they’ve learned their tactics

  well.”

  Peering once more out of his office window,

  Commodore Gardner made one more comment. It

  was more a prediction. “Lord North and Parliament has bitten off more than they can chew. If he doesn’t learn to respect the abilities of the colonials we’ll lose this war. Mark my word sir, we’ll lose.”

  ***

  After leaving Government House, Anthony

  went to “the cottage.” Lady Deborah was waiting

  and offered a warm greeting. However, she could

  see Anthony was despondent and angry over the

  news from the colonies, on top of Rascal’s near

  destruction by the Reaper. But beyond Anthony’s

  anger was a feeling of despair and hurt from losing

  Merle Pitts and so many of Rascal’s crew. Deborah

  had never seen this side of her man, and was

  moved by his sincerity. He cares for those he commands.

  No wonder his officers and men respond to him as they do,

  she thought.

  “He tried so hard to please me,” Anthony was saying, speaking of Pitts. “He was always eager and carefree unless the need arose. Then he could be very serious. He would have made a fine captain.” Anthony had written to Pitts’s father. The letter included not only comments about the young man’s bravery and ultimate sacrifice, but also some of the pleasurable times they’d had. When Anthony had finished the letter he laid it down and said, “Words seem so hollow. How do you tell a father his son is gone, and at the same time try to ease his pain by telling him Merle died heroically while doing his duty in some far corner of the world that he’s probably never even heard of? That his body was buried at sea and therefore there will be no grave to visit? How do you say all these things? It sounds so cheap saying he gave his life for England.”

  Anthony took his pipe and walked to the porch to light up. Seeing the letter lying open on the table, Deborah picked it up and read it. Reading the letter she couldn’t help but cry. Laying the letter on the table and using her handkerchief to wipe the tears from her eyes, she rushed out onto the porch and took Anthony in her arms.

  “Oh, Gil, you wonderful man. Your letter was so perfect. I wanted to stand up and shout. No one could have said better about Merle and made him sound so heroic. His father will be hurt, but he’ll be proud.”

  Later that night as Anthony was holding Deborah, she snuggled even closer and whispered to him, “Ever consider marrying an old widow woman who has proved she’s utterly shameless?”

  Anthony sat up, wide awake. He looked her in the eyes and said, “Do you really mean it?”

  “Yes, my brave captain.”

  Anthony pulled her closer and kissed her. Their lovemaking seemed to make him feel whole again. Later in the wee hours of the morning he spoke, “Deborah!”

  “Yes, Gil.”

  “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

  “And I’m the happiest woman in the world,” she replied.

  “You hungry?” Anthony asked.

  “No.”

  “I’m not talking about food, Deborah.”

  “Oh, you dirty man. I’m starved.”

  ***

  The wedding was planned for May.

  “I’d like to be a June bride, but that is too long. So May it’ll be,” Deborah had commented. It would take that long to get announcements and letters to the respective families. Anthony was torn about what to do in regards to his invitations. He didn’t want to offend Gabe or his mother by not extending an invitation. However, Maria would not want to be embarrassed by being present if Anthony’s mother were there. Knowing his mother, Anthony was sure she’d say something to insult Maria for being his father’s mistress. Another thought came to mind. Did Mother even know about Gabe? Anthony didn’t think so but wasn’t sure. How would he handle that situation? He intended to ask Gabe to be his best man and if mother came how did he introduce the two? “Mother, this is one of my lieutenants.” No, he’d not dishonor Gabe or his father in such a manner. One look and mother would know the truth. Father could never deny Gabe, Anthony thought. Well, I’ll warn Gabe and we’ll cross that bridge when we have to. However, in regards to Maria, what should I do?

  I’ll leave it up to Becky, Anthony decided finally. Mother has been “ill” lately and it was possible she wouldn’t be able to make the voyage. If mother weren’t able to come, Becky would extend an invitation to Maria, encouraging her to make the voyage with Becky’s family.

  ***

  Deborah and Anthony invited Gabe, Bart, and Dagan to dine with them the following evening. They wanted them to be the first to know of their plans. Deborah was apprehensive, but Anthony hushed her fears by kissing her lips.

  “They all love you and will be happy for us,” Anthony said. “Just wait and see.”

  Dinner had been served, and the men poked fun over Anthony’s getting fat on such fare. After a full meal and a succulent pudding for dessert, the men gathered on the porch to enjoy their pipes. One of the servants brought out a decanter of claret and fresh glasses. As the glasses were filled, Deborah walked out on the porch as if on cue. When the men stood up, Anthony looked at them…his friends…his family.

  He cleared his throat and said, “Men, this is a special occasion for which you all were invited. I look on each of you as a very special part of my life. Some would say family. We in the Navy know it goes beyond family. Ties that bind us by both blood and battle have formed a union no landsman could fully understand. I have asked for another union, and Lady Deborah has graciously accepted my humble proposal. I…we…have invited you three here tonight to share in our joy before it is publicly announced.” Anthony looked at the men who stood before him, their mouths agape. Concerned about their
acceptance he continued, “It’s been no secret how I feel about Lady Deborah.”

  Before Anthony could finish, the men’s shouts and cries of congratulations interrupted him. “We have been wondering when you’d get enough wind in ya sails to ask,” Bart stated in his strong accent. All it took were those few seconds for Anthony’s words to sink in before the then reacted, as he knew they would.

  Anthony pulled Lady Deborah near, enjoying the good-natured bantering to which the three men were subjecting their commanding officer.

  “I knew you was smitten, Cap’n. Told Mr. Buck I did. I jes’ know’d it,” Bart continued.

  Gabe turned to Lady Deborah and japed, “Are you sure, Madam? You don’t know him same as we do.”

  Dagan surprised everyone. He used the end of his pipe to tap on his wine glass and get everyone’s attention. “Gentlemen,” he said, “A toast! To the commodore and his beautiful lady. May you always have fair winds and following seas.”

  “Here, here,” they all said in unison as they drained their glasses.

  Anthony was taken aback by Dagan’s manner, and his elegance. This was another side of this mysterious man he’d neither seen nor imagined.

  Anthony then placed his hand on Gabe’s shoulders, surprising him. “Gabe, would you do me the honor of being my best man?”

  That Gabe was moved was obvious to all. “Of course,” he muttered. “But what about Mr. Buck?”

  Anthony looked directly into Gabe’s eyes as he responded. “Rupert is my first lieutenant and a dear friend. But you, Gabe, are my brother.” Then they all hugged, and Anthony suffered through Bart’s telling and re-telling of the incident where he’d had the cocked pistol in his pants pointed at his “wedding tackle.”

  Later, after retiring for the evening, Anthony asked Deborah, “If the gun had gone off and I was ah…ere…crippled, would you still have agreed to marry me?”