Chapter 2: Devising an Escape

"Bygone and to hell!" Durson shouted when he heard news of the standards. "'E's been waitin' for ye, cap'n!"

Andraste was more focused on the newer ships coming at her from starboard side. She was slowly beginning to see where the pieces of the puzzle fit into place. "Mr. Durson, he's pushed us here."

Durson shook his head in confusion. He knew that there was a great deal of animosity between Geoffroi and Andraste; Geoffroi had wanted Andraste to wife and Andraste had rebuffed him. Because Geoffroi considered himself God's gift to women he was not used to such rejection that the lady Rose had given him. Since then, he had sought to make her time at sea difficult. When he was able to catch up with the Artemis and her crew, he attacked them or he simply trailed the ship from port to port. His harassment didn't stop there as once he found her location he often tipped off enemy ships to her whereabouts. Geoffroi wanted revenge for a small damage to his pride, and Durson knew from experience that he often blew things out of proportion. The man was completely out of his mind; he was violent with a passion and obsessed over things to the extreme.

He had obsessed over Durson's captain. No woman could be worthy enough to captain her own ship and if she was then she had be tamed and beaten down. Few pirates would disagree with him. He became enamoured with the idea of finding the prim Welsh woman and when he finally did something had struck a chord within him. He had to possess her; there could be no other way to describe it. He came across her in the middle of the open ocean and had professed his intentions and 'undying love' for her from the crow's nest. Durson had wanted to climb up after him and wipe his face with his fist. Some of the things the man had suggested were even too lewd for him!

Andraste, on the other hand, had been quite amused. She had told him, none too gently, what she thought of his acts and that he should address her with more respect. After all, she wasn't some common whore from Tortuga; she had a good family name even if its reputation fell to speculation. This was maddening to le Noir; no woman had ever spoken to him like that. It was intoxicating. So he followed her as she sailed to Tortuga to find a replacement gunner. He had tracked her to a small inn and pursued her once again there. He had stood on top of the bar and again confessed the desires of his loins and heart to her. The Rose had been pushed too far, once was charming but twice and in the same fashion was degrading. She had beckoned him down and told him firmly that she wanted no part of his loins or his heart.

Geoffroi had tried to kiss her.

Andraste kicked him in his buried treasure.

How they had all laughed in the tavern! The legendary seducer of women had failed with his charms! Oh they wailed and they howled with mirth at Tortuga's biggest playboy's failure. Geoffroi had lost his pride that evening and had spent every day since then trying to regain it. Only once more did he ever get his hands on Durson's captain, and Durson vowed to never let it happen again.

Taking her first mate's far away look as one of confusion, Andraste sighed. Was she the only one who thought ahead on the bloody ship? "Is it not convenient that the ship our goods were on was diverted to a port that we do not know? That on the way to this port we are trailed and we are soon to be attacked?" Andraste gave a wave of her hand to the open span of sea where the two newest ships were on a course to ram the Artemis. Again her accent bobbed with frustration; "luck is not with us, Mr. Durson. We shall never be able to reach Port Royale without a fight and we have no ammunition for the cannons."

"We could break the crock'ry an' use the cutl'ry!" suggested Durson

"Heaven's no!" scolded the Captain, "you obviously have no idea how hard it is to find quality eating wear in the Caribbean. We have to import our supplies from England. I'll thank you not to be throwing out the fine silverware."

"Cap'n, please!"

Scowling, the lady captain paced on deck, issuing questions routinely to check that their course was still set on the bay, trying to think of something. Andraste knew that if she could get in to it, she might be able to lure the British Fleet out to destroy Geoffroi's forces. Her concern was the two smaller sloops that had gotten ahead of the heavy frigates. They were coming at her hard and fast, and though while not large enough to rake her own frigate their smaller bow chasers could pick off her crew. If they hit her with enough force she might even be knocked off course. Such things wouldn't do. In the event that her ship was disabled, the crew would have to be prepared for a broadside fight to the death – Andraste was not about to willingly surrender herself to anyone, especially Geoffroi the butcher. She'd rather die, or have him die for the matter, before such a situation ever occurred. All she wanted was to put distance between their ships.

She turned back to her first mate and shook her head helplessly, a decision made, "and what good would it do us? We can't sink the ship with pewter plates. We need to continue on, lure the British out of their port. We only need to let them see our enemies and they'll come sailing out."

The coxswain, eavesdropping throughout, gave Andraste a call to let her know he understood her plan and would carry it out. He wasn't ready for his dismissal as the Captain meant to take the helm and bring the ship to port herself. Though he disagreed heartily, he was silenced by the customary wave of a gloved hand and he stalked off to secure some block and tackle.

Outrunning the small sloops by barely a small stretch of sea, the Artemis crept agonizingly slow across the water towards Fort Charles. Though they were hitting their maximum speed it seemed as if they were being held back by the ocean. It was almost as if she had conspired against them to delay their passage to safety. She favored the men with bad intent this day; fickle in her allegiances as she was in her currents. Her softly lapping waves along the rocks were but the tip of the iceberg as beneath them the water was harsher and the rip tides stronger. The ocean liked to play games with her travelers and as they relied on her for transportation she relied on them for amusement. A pull of the waves here, a lack of push there, it made no difference to her so long as there was some form of chaos transpiring within her. She found these two captains very entertaining.

High above the treacherous being, Fort Clarence gave out a few warning shots, warning the pirates away and alerting Port Royale's fleet of the danger. It had no effect on the captains playing cat and mouse around their waters. The gaps between the ships closed and so too did the hope of no confrontation leave.

The closest sloop caught a southerly wind that blew it straight into the Artemis's path. Its captain had picked a perfect position for a cut off. Andraste begrudgingly accepted this and turned her ship starboard to avoid the smaller vessel and the reef that sat behind it. An encounter with jagged coral would leave her in a poor position. She would never be able to lure the ships in close enough for Royale's navy to capture them if she were stuck on a reef and under fire. The drawback to her turn was that it exposed a great deal of her port side to the enemy. She really had no choice. Taking a deep breath she steadied her ship, eyeing the other hungry vessel that closed in from behind her.

Upon seeing the exposed side of the ship, the captain of the first sloop gave the order to fire. The eight-gunned ship scored no hits below sea level, but they did manage to kill a few crewmen and knock the planking off deck. At the site of their friends dead or drying, Andraste's crew became restless and pleading for a piece of the action. They had to avenge their comrades but the permission was not forthcoming, as the Rose wouldn't risk losing any more men. They would get their time soon enough, but to many this wasn't satisfying.

Aboard the tenacious sloop, the guns were reloaded for another volley of fire while their twin set to work firing their bow chasers. The hits were inconsequential, slipping through sails and the captain's cabin. They ripped holes in the flank of the retreating ship, but there was no damage that would have been long lasting. What they needed was one lucky shot…

Andraste knew something was terribly wrong when the Artemis did not respond to her commands. She twisted the wheel both ways and received no response in direction. She shook her head; there was one logical explanation for this. "Durson! They've hit our rudder!"

Durson gripped the ropes in his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. He saw the agitated stance of his captain as she tapped her foot impatiently, still grasping the wheel in her elegant hands. Her expression was more annoyed than afraid, but he soon saw her compose herself and stroll to the aft railing to look overboard. What she saw he didn't know but when she turned back she slapped her fist into the palm of her hand and clenched her teeth. She was upset about something. "CAP'N?" he yelled above the noise. Though battle was exhilarating to men like him, it was much preferred that he was not the one under fire. Durson had seen eight of the ships he had been stationed on sink and had grown tired of such events. Winning was always better than losing.

"Prepare yourself for heavier fire than this. Our friend has come to join us," Andraste called back to him. She pointed to her left where one of the heavy frigates was gliding itself into firing position. She saw the other frigate turn itself around and force its way out of the bay. No doubt it didn't want to take any risks. The first of the cannon balls crashed into the quarterdeck, sending the Captain flying onto the main deck where the second launch was aimed. She steadied herself and returned to her position, urging her men to remain calm and pray to whatever Gods they chose to that the Dauntless wasn't just a piece of ornamental harbor decoration as it appeared to be.

Despite their prayers, from the small sloop came a CRACK! and the lurch and groan of the Artemis sounded trouble. Another CRACK! forced Andraste to accept that she probably couldn't salvage her ship. Three more CRACKS! sounded and it was known to all that their beloved frigate was going under. The crew knew that they had two options left: fight or swim for the rocks. Their captain made the decision for them as she saw the holes in her deck and the dead bodies splayed about.

"All hands, abandon ship!" Andraste yelled, grasping the wheel tightly to keep her balance amongst the explosions. "Make for the rocks, you know what to do after that!" She knew that it would be precarious for her crew to still be aboard when it sunk. At the rocks, they could at least hide themselves and slowly drag their way to shore. They only had to watch out for the undercurrents and the sharks, but if they could do that then they'd be fine.

Reluctantly, the crew and Mr. Durson nodded their heads. One by one they headed below deck and climbed out of the port cannon windows and into the warm, salty sea. That left Andraste and her crippled ship alone to bide them some time.