Page 73 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“Wait a few moments to see if they hoist the white flag. If not, give them another warning.”

“Aye, Captain,” Hillier agreed, biding his time.

Captain Martin turned to me.

“Hillier’s got a boarding party of the most intimidating crew members ready. They’ll go first, and once they’ve secured the ship, we’ll go. Or you can stay here. It’s up to you.”

I didn’t want to be left here on my own.

“I’ll go with you.”

“Good. You’ll need a title, I suppose, so they’ll think you’re someone important.”

That hit me harder than I’d expected. He must have seen the look on my face, as he cupped my cheek and continued, “Of course, you’re vastly important tome, Rooster, but I doubt that introducing you as my bedwarmer and cumslut would give you the status you deserve.”

I stifled a laugh. “Yes, Captain. Understood.”

“I’ll call you my right-hand man and introduce you as Officer White. How does that sound?”

“Well, rather accurate, since it’s usually your right hand wrapping around my sabre.”

“Good Lord. Are you going to be able to keep your mouth shut?”

“Yes, Captain. That title sounds right swank.”

“Yes, it does,” he regarded me critically. “Get your jacket.”

“Yes, Captain.”

I ran back to his rooms and grabbed my fancy jacket off the back of the chair. Since the weather had been warm, I’d sort of forgotten about it. But I should wear the garment for this meeting. I glanced in the standing mirror and made some adjustments. The fine workmanship of the cloth and button closures made me look quite respectable.

A gigantic sound rang out and theArrowshook right down to the timbers.

“Ready…and FIRE!” Hillier shouted.

Another loud bang and shudder.

A spike of fear shot through me as I hastened up the stairs.

The deck was a hive of activity. Men darted here and there in a kind of organized chaos. Captain Martin stood by the rail, looking through his spyglass at the ship that was now smoking, with half of its deck blown apart. Even though a part of me was terrified, I did notice that he cut quite a striking figure.

“HOLD!” Hillier shouted. “Rifles!”

The crew who were lined up at the rail shouldered their rifles and took aim. I was surprised by how close we now were to the other ship.

“Ready! Aim!” Hillier shouted.

Then Captain Martin lowered his glass and raised his hand. “Wait!”

“Stand down!” Hillier commanded, and I watched as thirty men lowered their muskets, obedient to the last.

A wooden oar waved over the deck of the other ship, with a white flag at the end of it.

By this time, I had reached Captain Martin.

“They’ve surrendered,” he stated. “Hillier will send the armed party aboard, and then we’ll go. He’ll leave ten men here in case things go wrong, but I don’t foresee any trouble.”

We waited while Hillier took twenty men in a skiff that was lowered over the side. His boarding party rowed quickly to the drifting vessel. With skills forged from years of practice, the men climbed the ropes and netting at the stern like spiders, gaining the decks in no time and dispersing amongst the surrendering crew.

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