Captain Curtiss "Cutlass" Scott glanced through his spyglass at the fast fleeing Merchantman on the horizon. The tiny trading vessel wasn't running from him in particular, just trying to get out through the Straights before being found by the pirates who sail these waters. Pirates like Captain Scott.
Scott always argued that he wasn't a pirate in the truest sense of the word. He was a freebooter. A Solantorian sailing ship that just happened to have a Letter of Marque from the King of Solantor himself. The Claymore was a privateer. A legalized pirate of Solantor.
As privateers go, the Claymore was more powerful than most. She was a thirty gun frigate, with sleek lines that any old sailor could fall in love with. And many did, just before she blew them out of the water. Her 187 man crew loved her almost as much as her captain. Some of them even more than their wives.
The "Cutlass" was a mystery though. Little was known about the master of the Claymore. He was from a little hamlet on the coast of Solantor. His mother was a whore and his father was a merchant seaman who served on vessels like the one being chased by the Claymore at this moment.
Curtiss didn't worry about running into his father on the fleeing merchantman. His father had been dead for ten years now. Caught by another pirate in these very Straights. Well, according to official reports, not a pirate but a Verdunni privateer.
Curtiss had vowed to hunt down and kill the privateer captain for his father's death. He has still to make good on that vow. It's been ten years and he is no closer to finding the killer than he was when he started. But, still he trudges onward.
His First Mate, Morgan, steps up to his side.
"Report."
"Sir. We've ascertained where she is heading. It appears she is making for Caen on the northern coast of Verdun. "
"Very good, how long until she reaches port?
"Early tomorrow morning, but we should catch her by nightfall tonight."
"Give the Claymore full sail. Beat to quarters about an hour before dusk."
Morgan salutes, "Sure thing, skipper." He starts to walk away when the Captain grabs his arm.
"One more thing, Morgan. Make sure the Bow chasers are double slotted. I want double the range when we open fire on them."
"Aye, aye, skipper." He salutes again then steps down into the "waist" to carry out his orders.
A dozen miles ahead of the Claymore, the tiny vessel known as The Dancing Nymph plows through the waves in an attempt to clear the Straights. Captain Pierre Vesterhausey has every piece of canvas stretched along the yardarms. His officer points behind them.
"Sir, we are being followed."
Captain Vesterhausey turns to see what his first officer is rambling about. Raising his spyglass he studies the ship.
A frigate, about thirty guns, which means an almost two hundred man crew. Every sail is stretched on her which means she is in a hurry. Probably trying to catch the Nymph. That means pirates or privateers. Either way is bad news for Captain Vesterhausey. He must inform his passenger.
He hands the spyglass to his first officer, and then steps down the steps from the Poop Deck.
He doesn't bother knocking, because he knows it irritates her. Stepping into what was once his quarters he sees the bare shoulders framed by the large window in the transom. His breath catches in his throat as she releases her fiery red hair and whirls around to glare at him for this intrusion.
"Captain! I understand this used to be your quarters, but you must remember that a lady is using them now and you should always knock before entering a lady's quarters. What has brought your hideousness into my presence, yet again?"
"Milady and I use the term very loosely. We are being pursued by a pirate or privateer. I do not know or care at this time which it is."
She stalks across the tiny room and slaps him. "How dare you assume to think I am not a lady? When we get to Caen, I'll have you flogged for your insolence."
He rubs the warm red spot where she slapped him. Then to her surprise, he grins.
"I look forward to it. In the meantime, I suggest you remain down here for the rest of the day. In fact I suggest you stay in here until we reach Caen. Your presence on deck is distracting in the best of times." He gives her a lewd grin then climbs back to the deck.
She seethes with fury at her treatment by one of the blockade runners she has ever known. Although the man is little more than a pirate himself. She has had to put up with his lewd advances the entire trip from Damaskr. Seven days. Its been seven days since she stepped aboard the Dancing Nymph. Captain Vesterhausey obviously came up with the name of this vessel. It's disgusting.
She looks out the huge window. She can just make out the dark shape of another ship trailing them. The way her luck on this trip has gone so far, its not pirates or privateers. It'll be slavers. She has no illusions about how she would be treated if it is slavers. Her fiery red hair, her curvaceous body and her pale skin are all highly valued in the slave trade. She could end up in a slave ship on her way to the eastern lands of the Petran Empire. Or worse. She could end up a sex slave on board a slaver's galley. Servicing the whole crew and the officers.
She walks over to the bunk she had been using while she was on board. Under the pillow is a small flintlock pistol. She checks to make sure it's loaded. She will kill one anyway. She can always use the one shot on herself. To protect herself from being ravaged by pirates. "That will be a last resort." She tells herself.
The Claymore drives steadily onward. Her sleek lines, skimming the waves, just barely breaking the crests. While the Dancing Nymph is a fast ship for a merchantman, the Claymore is a warship. Designed for speed and durability.
About midday, the Claymore 's crew load the cannons and prepare to "run them out" on the Captain's word.
"Skipper, we are ready at your command, sir." Morgan reports.
The Captain nods at the report. When they reach extreme range for the bowchasers,
He shouts down to the gun crews. "Run them out! Prepare to fire a volley to get her attention."
The gun crews methodically run the guns out and prepare to pull the lanyard that will fire the 12-pounder guns.
The two 12-pound bowchasers are the middle guns of the Claymore 's arsenal. The mighty ship has eight more 12-pounders throughout the two gun decks. Ten 6-pounders on the upper gun deck and ten 18-pounders on the lower deck. Fourteen guns on a broadside can cause massive devastation to a ship the size of the Nymph.
Against another warship though, the broadsides are not as effective but still deadly.
"Morgan lets introduce ourselves." Captain Scott says with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Aye sir, Guns one and two. Fire and reload."
The two monstrous bores belch smoke and fire with a thunderous roar. The shots fall short of the merchantman, but it's obvious they know they are being shot at.
"Marksmen to the tops, Ready the broadside guns, just in case she wants to put up a fight."
The Claymore closes the distance with the tiny Verdunni vessel.
The "Cutlass" reads the name painted on the transom. "Dancing Nymph? Who is the skipper of that ship, Morgan?"
Morgan flips through the Verdunni ship registry. "A Captain Pierre Vesterhausey, sir."
"Captain? I don't know this man."
"No sir. You wouldn't. His rank is self appointed. He served with the Royal Verdun Navy until about three years ago. He was cashiered out for piracy. His last rank before his disgrace was Leftenant. His crew is extremely loyal. They broke him from prison just before he was to be executed."
"Executed? For piracy?"
"Yes sir. He had no Letters of Marque to sanction his attacks against enemy ships."
"I see."
There is a deafening boom from the Nymph. Three of her 6-pound guns fire at the Claymore.
"Give her a broadside, Mr. Morgan."
"Hard to Port. Starboard guns fire on volley!"
The fourteen guns of the Starboard broadside open up on the tiny ship. The Claymore rolls to Port with the concussion of the guns firing at the same time.
On the Dancing Nymph, Captain Vesterhausey picks himself up from the deck. He brushes the splinters from his uniform. Two of his crew are dead from the volley and about a half dozen are injured.
He looks to the wheel or rather where the wheel used to be. He knows there is no way he can fight toe-to-toe with a frigate. He decides not to try. He orders the colors to be "struck" and the sails to be trimmed. He then orders his men to prepare to be boarded.
He starts down the steps to his cabin. At least he can have some fun before the pirates carry her away.
Lady Constance Trotilla and her Lady-in waiting also pick themselves up off the floor of the cabin. Lady Trotilla had never been on a ship under attack but she was smart enough to know what happened. She was also smart enough to know what is to come next.
Captain Vesterhausey is not a smart man, but even he should know he can't fight a pirate frigate. He would be a fool to try. She can feel the ship slowing, but her relief at not dying of drowning is short lived. She can still die from the rough hands of the pirates.
The door to the cabin bursts open and Captain Vesterhausey rushes in. There is an evil gleam in his eyes. Maria, her Lady-in-waiting moves to intercept the lewd man.
He throws her to the floor and draws his rapier. Turning back to Lady Trotilla, he slashes her bodice lacing s. The white silk parts easily under the sharp edge of the thin sword. Her breasts are fully exposed and despite the danger she is in, her nipples harden.
Captain Vesterhausey grabs her and latches on to one of her nipples with his lips. He bites down roughly which elicits a scream from the noble born woman. She attempts to fight him off but he is the stronger. His rough calloused hands slide up under her skirts along her inner thigh.
Unnoticed on the floor, Maria rises to her feet and throws herself at her Lady's attacker. She manages to pull him away from Constance 's breasts. Vesterhausey turns to meet this new attack and slides the blade of his rapier along Maria's ribs. Once again Maria falls to the floor. Her life blood staining the oak boards.
"I will not be denied, you Iberian whore." He yells as he turns to face Lady Trotilla once again.
