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"Aye, Cap'n, but James' sister ship the Black Raven is out there too."
"Hmm, we cannot fight them both. We'll have to wait for James to leave and find a
way to separate them."
"We can disable the Black Raven," Mr. Pettybones said.
"How?" Ash rubbed his jaw, staring at the ship as he waited for some input from his
first mate. "Well?"
"I dunno, Cap'n." Mr. Pettybones rubbed his jaw too, frowning so that his bushy gray
eyebrows came together. "We could& Nah, that wouldn't work. Maybe we could& "
"There." Ash pointed at the flat barge coming ashore. "Does that not look like some
of James' men from the Black Raven?"
"Aye, Cap'n, they are his men."
"And those are fresh water barrels."
"If you be thinking we steal their barrels& "
"No, James will just get new ones," Ash interrupted. "I have something else in mind.
Take a few men, follow those men, and do whatever it takes to keep them from filling
and sealing those barrels until I get there."
"Aye-aye, Cap'n."
Ash hurried down the street, looking for the one establishment that could help him. If
he couldn't get what he needed or his plan didn't work, they'd be in a lot of trouble. But
his options were limited and the prize a worthy cause.
Chapter Eight
The cannons thundered around the ship the Red Raven. Mercy stayed clear of the
deck as ordered and took herself to the hold to secure cargo. If not for the danger to the
men that wished to protect her she might have argued more to stay and help them.
She spun around at the explosive burst of a cannonball slamming into the port side of
the ship and stopped tying the knot on a load of crates. Water poured in, the ship rocked
on the turbulent seas. Above the surface of the sea, each tilt halted the flow, but then
they'd roll again, and more water gushed through the opening.
Mercy picked up several planks of remnant repair lumber and rushed forward to
patch the hole. Her staggering stance danced her back and forth until she braced herself
against the hull.
"Oh!" She squealed as cool water splashed through the gap and hit her in the face.
She wiped her hand across her eyes and glanced out the hole at the ship firing upon
them. They flew a black flag with skull and crossbones similar to their own.
"Another pirate," she gasped, worried for the crew, and yet, because of her, they
didn't have the protection of a second ship.
Her father said her grandfather was looking to get her back and they had to leave
Jamaica quickly. The Black Raven, however, seemed to have fallen afoul, because they
hadn't kept up and her father refused to wait.
Leaving the boards by the gaping wound in the vessel, she hurried to the wood box
of tools and fetched a hammer and steel cut nails. She tossed them to the damaged area
and then searched for a barrel of pine tar. A common practice for patching ravaged areas
of the ship, the makeshift bandage need only last as long as it took them to win the battle
and get to port for proper repairs.
The ship jerked with a loud crash, and she heard the shouts of men above.
Experience taught her to ignore them and tend to the task at hand. She tripped on the
debris and fell forward. Splinters stabbed her hands as she clutched the hole. Then the
rumble of the battle stopped suddenly, and the smoke outside from the cannon fire parted,
showing her a clear view of the ship moving alongside hers. She looked up and took a
deep breath as she watched the outline of a man at the rail. An odd white mist whisked
the air clean for a perfect view of him.
"Captain Sin?" She gasped to claim a breath she seemed unable to take.
Even though she had fantasized him as a gentleman pirate, she thought he was a
merchant when he said he was a seafaring man.
"Abandon ship!" someone yelled from atop.
She hesitated, taking one last look at Captain Sin before he moved away. Then she
turned and scrambled toward the ladder. Her foot caught beneath one of the planks she
planned to use for repairs. The enemy ship banged into hers as they docked against it.
The sudden jolt threw her to the floor. Her head hit a support beam and she fell into the
build up of water on the floor.
"Mercy, are ye down there, girl?" her father yelled through the hatch.
She lifted her head to answer, but another jolt caused the cargo to shift, and as she
watched it crashing down toward her, she rolled up against the hull.
"Yes, Father!" she shouted back at the sound of a thump.
No answer came.
She pushed aside some crates and worked her way to the hatch. When she had come
down, sunlight had streamed into the hold. Now the darkness gave her an ominous
feeling. She scurried up the ladder and discovered someone had shut the door. Pushing
upward, she couldn't budge it. Not even a rattle of the door, suggested someone had
bolted it, or something sat on it.
"Father!" She pounded on the wood. "Father, I'm down here."
"I hear someone, Cap'n," a man above the door said.
Mercy backed down the ladder. His voice, not one she recognized, worried her. She
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