"I think we would all be better off if the Cristobal didn't have its captain," he says and levels his gun and fires. Over on the other ship, the Captain of the San Cristobal clutches his breast and falls to his deck. "Not very sporting of me," he says, "but it is our Jacky we are concerned about here, eh, what?"
He reloads as the three vessels come together. I could see the seamen David Jones and John Tinker down below on the deck of the little schooner preparing to fire their guns at the enemy's rudder, and Jacky Faber calling out orders to others of her crew. The Nancy B.'s mainmast rigging is now lying against the side of the Dolphin.
"Will you be taking care of things up here, Fletcher?" calls Allen. He slings his rifle over his shoulder and climbs over into the schooner's ratlines and begins to descend. "I believe we'll be of more use below. Come along, men."
A moment later I hear him call out from below...
"Fear not, Princess, the Cavalry has arrived!"
Chapter 53
I cannot believe my ears. Nor my eyes. I stand astounded.
"Richard! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I might well ask the same of you, my sweet little river nymph, finding you out here on the big broad sea," answers Captain Allen. "But time for hugs and kisses later, Lady Pretty-Bottom, as we have hot work to do here."
We are crammed up against the other ships now, fighting to get our starboard guns in position to fire on what has turned out to be a very sturdy rudder. Before, musket men had appeared at the rail and had rained shot down upon us, but aside from a graze to the side of Davy's face, no one was hit. Then the musket men above disappeared, probably because of the red-coated squad that had just climbed down to our deck.
"Sergeant Bailey. Align the men across the deck here such that we will fire in two ranks. If anyone shows their face above that rail, have the first rank fire, but have the second rank hold back, in case they think to shoot at us as we reload."
"Aye, Sor," says Sergeant Bailey, the old Welsh soldier who has heard all this many times before. "McDuff, Quimby, Jackson, kneel in First Rank. McMann, Merrick, Luce, stand in Second Rank. You heard the Captain."
Could it be? Archie and Willie and the rest of Allen's Dragoons from our trip down the Big Muddy? It is.
"I thought you might like seeing the lads again, Jacky, so I brought 'em along especially, like," says Richard, scanning the ships towering over us. Both vessels shudder as they continue to put broadside after broadside into each other. In addition, the San Cristobal also suffers the lesser but still deadly blows from El Diablo Rojo." 'Course I didn't know we'd be getting into this dustup, but hey, fortunes of war, eh, Princess?"
A bullet hits the deck between Richard and me, digging a furrow into the wood. He looks up, spots the man who fired it, a figure far up in the mainmast, and raises his rifle and fires. The figure jerks, slumps, and falls.
"If you ever see Lightfoot again, Wah-Chinga, give him my thanks for pointing out the virtues of this weapon." He reloads, and then shoves one of his thin cheroots between his teeth.
"Jacky! Coming in range!"
"Fire when she bears, Davy!"
Cccrrrack!
Davy's aim is true, but the four-pound shot hits the upper pintle of the anchor and bounces off harmlessly. Harmless to the San Cristobal, that is, for the shot ricochets back across our own deck, almost hitting Joannie, struggling across with another heavy bag of powder.
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..."