Chapter 14: Hard Maneuvers and Round Shot

Jack dove to the deck as fragments of one of the great wrought iron stern lanterns screamed passed him. The knight's frigate had fired her bow chasers at long range and scored a glancing hit. Barbossa on the main deck barked orders to the men in the rigging to lay on as much canvas as they could. Leech was snapping orders to reload the cannon. The whole crew was animated with new strength as the threat from astern was realized.

"Leech," shouted Jack over the uproar on deck as he pulled himself back to his feet. "Make ready the surprise in my cabin. You'll only have one chance at it so be sure you do it right."

The bosun gave a quick nod and sprang to do his captain's bidding.

"Captain, prepare to turn hard a port," ordered Sir Walter. "I want that ship disabled. On your life. Do not sink her."

"Aye, sir," the captain of the Manchester resented being ordered around on his own ship. He was himself a knight of the Order though not with as much influence as Sir Walter. The orders were given and the Manchester's crew obeyed readily. They had dogged this pirate for nearly a full day and they'd all seen the wrecks it had left in its wake. Some of the crew had lost friends on those ships and all of them wanted revenge against the Pearl for the shame it had brought to their master.

"Jack," Barbossa said as he came up the ladder. "That damned corvette is coming back into action. Looks as though we gave them a drubbing but they seem willing to fight on."

"Keep an eye on her," Jack replied. "I'm more worried about the frigate catching us. Are we carrying all the sail she'll hold?"

"Aye," Barbossa growled. "As much as we can raise. That were unlucky for us last night when that damned frigate got that broadside off. At least they were trained in the French fashion though. If they'd been trained like the English they would have blasted a hole in our side as big as may be. We'd all be down with Davy Jones right now."

Jack turned unusually hard eyes on Barbossa for an instant. "Don't speak of Jones to me, Hector. Not ever."

"It's just an expression, Jack," Barbossa said raising placatory hands. "What are yer orders?"

"Be sure all hands have their personal arms ready and loaded. I expect before too long we'll be needing them."

"Aye, Jack," Barbossa nodded. "'Spect ye be right."

"Sir Walter," the Manchester's first lieutenant said from his place by the rail. "The Harasser is turning to support us."

Sir Walter looked to the starboard and saw the corvette lurching into position just aft of the Manchester. Her foremast shrouds had been shredded and much of her rigging was hanging uselessly but her captain had re-slung the mainmast shrouds and now she was maneuvering to add her guns to the fray. Sir Walter smiled. Even damaged the Harasser would force the Black Pearl to divide her attention between the two ships.

"Lieutenant," Sir Walter said. "Signal the Harasser. Well done. Attack enemy starboard side. That should vex our Captain Sparrow nicely."

As the signal was run up the mast the Manchester's bow chasers fired again. Sir Walter smiled coldly at the ship of his enemy. He would have her. He would capture the Black Pearl and burn her to the water line. He would kill Jack Sparrow and send his body to the depths. He would have his revenge.

Another round shot slammed into the stern just above the big windows of the captain's cabin. Jack was looking over the rail at the big frigate as the ball struck home. He felt the quarter deck shudder under the impact and thanked his lucky stars that it had struck solid oak rather than the frail glass. He could read the name of the frigate clearly now: Manchester. He wondered absently if it had been named after the town or some member of the Order. With a slight effort he pulled his mind back to the here and now. His stomach was troubling him. Again he wondered if the poison were already at work. What day was it? Sir Kaspar had said it would take seven days at least to kill him.

"Jack," Barbossa's voice came from the main deck. "Do ye see the corvette breaking to our starboard?"

"Course I do, Hector!" Jack snapped irritably. "I'm watching over the bloody stern rail aren't I? Stand ready down there."

For a moment Hector was livid with suppressed rage. He swallowed it though and turned back to his duties reflecting that being first mate to Jack Sparrow was tougher than he had dreamed it would be. There were times he wished he had never left the Caspian Sea. Certainly he would rather be there at this moment than here on this deck with these blasted knights after him. Barbossa rubbed his belly feeling an odd sensation. He wondered what was causing it. No time to worry about that at the moment. At least the Pearl was going north. Every minute they could out run the knights was a minute closer to their rendezvous with Sir Kaspar. Would Sir Kaspar join in the fight? If he did would he support the Pearl or throw in with the other knights?

"Hard a port!" shouted Sir Walter. The helmsman spun the wheel and sent the Manchester heeling over under full sail. Her tack sang as the sails flapped rivaling the guns in thunderous protest. As the first guns began to fire Sir Walter's triumphant smile vanished. The Black Pearl had mirrored his maneuver and turned right away from the Manchester. He watched as his shot fell into empty water. The Harasser was too far off to engage the Pearl with any accuracy though she did fire her bow chasers. Sir Walter's smile returned as he saw the windows of the Pearl's aft cabin explode. It wasn't until the wind of a passing cannon ball knocked him off his feet that he realized they had blown outward. Sparrow had concealed guns in his own cabin.

Sir Walter cradled his wounded arm as he got shakily to his feet. The eviscerated corpse of the first lieutenant lay on the deck next to him with wide, staring eyes. The headless body of the helmsman had been knocked across the quarter deck to land grotesquely against the port side rail. A large piece was missing from a now blood splatter wheel. Other bodies lay on the teak in various states of distress. Men moaned in pain. Some cried for their mothers while one said a soft prayer before falling all too silent.

The Manchester was faltering in her course without a helmsman. Sir Walter collected his wits and staggered to the half ruined wheel. He heaved with his good arm and felt the stitches in his chest pull loose again. With a grunt of pain he steadied the massive ship on course and looked for help. The captain came with several men from the main deck. Pausing only an instant at the top of the ladder the captain rushed to relieve Sir Walter at the wheel.

"Bring us back around, captain," Sir Walter wheezed. "What's our damage?"

"They only struck the quarter deck," the captain said as he struggled with the smashed wheel. "Rigging and sails are all still intact."

"That bastard somehow knew what I planned," Sir Walter staggered back to the rail to cast an evil glare at the retreating pirates. "I'll keel haul him for that."

Though he held his tongue the captain knew Sir Walter's plan had been easy enough to anticipate. What else could they have been planning? Sir Walter had been coming straight up behind the pirates. Were they supposed to do nothing? Their gunnery had been magnificent though. It was only by sheer luck that the knight hadn't been killed along with the rest of the men on the quarter deck. Perhaps that would have been better. Suddenly the captain had serious misgivings about this mission.

The Pearl's crew was screaming cheers at the top of their lungs. Captain Jack had done it again! Somehow he had out foxed the implacable enemy and had bought them at least a few more minutes of life. They were running north before the wind. Behind them the frigate and the corvette had resumed their pursuit. Even damaged the corvette was starting to gain on them again and the frigate would soon make up the lost distance. The Pearl wasn't in the clear yet.