Chapter 12

"Where away?" bellowed Vel even as he turned and raced for the aft piloting station. Dent raced behind him as they passed startled looking sailors, up the ladder bursting onto the piloting bridge. The second mate was positioned at the starboard railing peering through a farseeing glass at the horizon beyond the Pinya.

Striding up to him the Captain grunted and the mate handed him the glass without comment pointing in the direction he had been looking. Vel put the glass to his eye and peered in the same direction. Looking, Dent could see the Pinya off on their starboard beam. Beyond it a ship -- or at this distance a set of sails-- could be seen coming out of a fog bank some three to four miles beyond.

Details were sketchy to the unaided and untrained eye but Dent felt confident the rigging of this mystery vessel resembled that of the Death Grip more so than the Pinya. Already he could see the Pinya's bow as the smaller ship turned to port toward the Death Grip.

"Malshall, I make it," the Captain stated to no one in particular.

"Aye," concurred the second mate. "Frigate size, maybe a little larger; not a brig or a corsair I think."

"Thank our luck for that!" Vel replied. "Hmm, there were only two Malshallian frigates in these waters last I heard, Vengeance Mine and Thin Blade. Aye, well let's see just who we have to play with then. Helm! steer right, two points starboard!" he shouted.

Dent swiveled his head to see the helmsman turning the great wheel in the center of the bridge. The Second Mate moved to the forward railing and shouted down to the main deck. His call was answered both on the deck and by sailors already scrambling in the upper reaches of the rigging.

"Ring Battle Quarters, Second," Captain Vel continued in a remarkably calm voice.

Dent had expected him to become, what he wasn't sure, enraged, agitated, furious? But nothing of the kind happened. If anything he became calmer and more professional with each passing moment.

"Well, Warrior, it would appear that you be earning your keep quicker than expected," Vel said as he turned toward Dent. The ship's bell began to ring in a cadence unfamiliar to the young warrior but at its sound the ship's crew seemed to explode into action. There was a sound of pounding feet, closing hatches and opening lockers.

"Second!" Vel shouted over the general clamor.

"Aye, Captain?"

"Signal the Pinya. I want them to pass astern. Tell them we're coming right. I want them to take station one thousand yards off our port beam."

"Aye, Captain. Pinya pass astern, take station one thousand yards port beam."

"Very well, Second, make it so," he said while turning back to Dent. "Soon as officers muster here we decide how we'll fight this ship."

It didn't take more than a few minutes for the Pilot, Bo'sun and the Third Mate to muster on the bridge, each reporting his position as ready for battle.

While this was going on Dent made his way to the forward rail and looked over at main deck. The four boarding party squads were formed up in the same positions they assumed for practice with the exception being each man had a sharp and shiney weapon instead of the usual wooden practice ones. He noticed that the other sailors on deck were also armed, each one ready to fight for his ship and his life.

"Boarding parties appear to be ready, Captain," Dent said moving back over to the grouped officers.

"Aye they better be, Armsman," he said then turned his attention back to the whole group. "There is a Malshallian frigate six thousand yards off the starboard beam, and like as not they'll be wanting to take back our prize from us. Now we could run."

He paused as if waiting for some response; when none came he continued, "But we ain't gonna do that. We're positioning the Grip 'tween them and the Pinya. Nobody's going take our prize without us having a say so. Any discussion on the matter?" Some just squinted and grinned a little; others let their hands caress the hilt of their swords sheathed in their belt.

"Sir," Dent broke the silence.

"Aye, Armsman?" Vel said a little dangerously.

"Request permission to retrieve my armor. Then I'd like to take station with the boarding squads on the main deck."

"Oh aye, Armsman," he said relaxing slightly. "You do that and in a bit I'll be down there myself. Some tactics I'll want to talk to you about."

"Very well, Sir. By your leave?" Saluting like he had been dismissed from a formation at the academy he turned and quickly walked to the ladder and started down.

"Do ya think he'll turn on us, Captain?" the Bo'sun asked. "He was heading for Malshall, after all."

"Can't say as I think he will, Boats," the Captain said stroking his beard. "But best you keep an eye on him nonetheless. Off with you now. Maybe we can just worry them away from the Pinya, but I think it best if we assume it's coming to a fight." With that the group broke up and each officer hurried back to his station.

Walking quickly to the center of the main deck, Dent signaled for each of the four squad leaders to meet with him. Explaining the situation, he told them to prepare to repel boarders which meant breaking out pikes as well as the already-issued cutlasses.

Saying the Captain would be down shortly and that he was going to arm himself with his personnel weapons, taking his leave, he swiftly made his way forward to his compartment. Entering, he found both Nesho and Sosho waiting, fear evident in their eyes.

"I don't have time to explain everything," he said stripping off his tunic and reaching for his woolen underpad. "There is another ship out there, Malshallian, and it looks like they will try to board us."

"Then we'll be saved!" cried Sosho.

Dent hesitated for a moment. "Maybe," he said slowly, "but I wouldn't count on it. From what I understand, Malshall is almost as heavily into the slave trade as Jeevel and we're not Malshallian citizens. I suppose it's possible they may set you free, but somehow I doubt it. At least it is something to hope for if we're taken."

"Then why are you putting your armor on?" asked Nesho. "Wouldn't it be better to take a chance on the unknown? As it is, we know we're to be slaves; with them it's only maybe."

"True," Dent admitted. "If it comes to that try to surrender yourselves, although I have a plan for when we get to Jeevel," he sighed. "But do what you think is best. I have to fight for this ship. I'm under contract and anything less is instant death no matter who wins. Even if the Malshallians take us, I would be instantly executed if I didn't fight."

"Oh Dent!" she cried and ran to hug him. "I can't let you go out there."

"We have no choice, my love," he said kissing her softly. Pushing her back gently he completed securing the armor plate and arranging his dirk and sword.

"There, now you two stay here. This should be the safest place on the ship for now."

"No!" said Nesho standing up straight. "I'll go to the sickbay, if there is fighting, there will be casualties that need assistance. Sosho, you stay here."

Looking at the both of them Dent just nodded. Then as an afterthought he reached in the locker and pulled out a small but wickedly shaped knife. Handing it to Sosho he said, "Hide this near you, but not on you. Use it if you have to. Nesho, there should be plenty of knives in the sickbay; make sure you have one handy at all times. Now give me a kiss, I must be going."

Nesho was closest so she got to him first giving him a fierce almost savage kiss that nearly knocked him down. When she finally broke away, Sosho was there placing her hands on his cheeks and drawing him to her in a much more gentle but definitely un-cousinly kiss.

"Take care love. Come back to us," whispered Nesho as he nodded again and quickly left the compartment. Gathering her healing supplies Nesho hugged her daughter and also left. Making her way slowly to the bunk Sosho hid the knife under the mattress, sat down and started to cry.

Little had changed when Dent returned to the main deck. The four squad leaders were gathered amidships with the Captain. Dent strode over to join them.

"Ah, Armsman!" Captain Vel said as Dent walked up. "We were just discussing what our tactics might be if we were boarded. Maybe you could give us the benefit of your vast knowledge."

"How many boarders would they probably have?" Dent asked ignoring the Captain's sarcasm.

"Well that's the question isn't it?" he replied looking at the slowly closing vessel. "The Second seems to think it's the Vengeance coming on. Now last I heard she's carrying sixty fighters and forty other crew, but I also hear she's taken one, maybe two prizes herself. Maybe she's down on crew and then again maybe not."

"So worst case would be sixty, maybe more if they strip some of their regular crew to send over."

Watching the other ship approach, it was now less than a mile away and he could begin to make out the boarding fenders and grappling hook catapults on the main deck. Behind the catapults he could see men massed, the twinkling of steel in the sunlight as it reflected off their weapons. From this distance he could just make out the light blue of their uniform shirts, that if nothing else telling of their regular naval status as opposed to the completely indiscriminate clothing the privateers chose to wear.

"Would you expect them to board amidships?" he asked Vel.

"Aye, if they can lay alongside, that's where they'll come."

"And what's the normal practice? Mass our men against theirs and fight it out there in the center of the main deck?"

"Aye, how else?"

"Here's what I'd like to do," Dent said and started to point to various positions on the main deck. "The Fourth amidships, Third to their right, Second to their left. The First will be with me back and under the bridge overhang."

"But ten men can't stop forty to sixty men!" he cried. "I might as well give them the ship!"

"But it won't be just ten. All they have to do is slow them down, you hear that, Macal?" The Fourth's squad leader grimaced but nodded his head. "If the Fourth can slow them down the Second and the Third can flank them, press them from the side. They won't have the room to work, we will. We should be able to contain and possibly even crush their attack right here on the main deck."

"And you and your men will be doing what? Sitting back watching while everyone else gets hacked to pieces?"

"Yes, for awhile, we will be the reserve," then he grinned at the large Captain. "Until they have fully committed themselves that is. Then here is what I want to do..." Pointing again he explained what he had in mind. The First's squad leader turned very pale as the plan unfolded.

"Audacious," Vel grumbled, "or maybe just insane." Suddenly he laughed and slapped Dent on the back hard enough to rattle his teeth. "If you can pull this off, we may just have another prize to show for this trip. Of course if you don't, you'll probably be dead." Looking over at the First's squad leader he said, "Double shares to any who follow the Armsman. If there are those who don't want to go, let them trade amongst the others."

"Double share? " the First's squad leader's jaw dropped open and his eyes went wide. "Oh aye, Captain. I'll ask but I be thinking nobody be wanting to stay behind with double share on the deck!"

"I'm thinking that also," Vel chuckled. Turning back to Dent he continued, "I'm guessing another bell, maybe two before they're in position to send the hooks, if they're going to do it. Get yer men ready, Armsman!"

Briefly outlining to the First's squad leader what he wanted done, Dent sent him off and rounded on the remaining three.

"Now," he said, "let's get set up down here."

It took much longer than the estimated two bells before the two ships were in a position where a clash was inevitable. The Vengeance Mine didn't press the attack until it became obvious that Vel had no intention of allowing Pinya to be recaptured without a struggle.

Finally the two ships sailed close together, beam to beam, with each crew shouting obscenities and insults at the other over the twenty yards that separated them. With little warning three grappling hooks shot out of their catapults and arched towards the Grip's deck. One caught in the rigging and was quickly cut free and hauled to the side where it was thrown overboard. Another became tangled over the side railing and was pulled taut by the crew on the other ship. The third smashed into and through the deck also being drawn taut by long lines of men on the enemy vessel. More hooks followed the first three until at least five lines connected the two ships.

Closer they came until they collided together almost directly amidships. Malshallian marines swarmed over the side pushing back the Fourth Squad but were unable to close with them due to the extra reach the pikes and halberds gave the defenders.

Dent estimated that there must be somewhere around fifty Malshallians involved in the boarding. He was pleased and surprised to see the stiff resistance the Fourth was able to offer. Almost as an aside he could see they were at least trying to use the fighting tactics they had been working on for the past week.

The Malshallians continued to pour over the side. About fifteen to twenty were involved with trying to push back the Fourth who were holding their own admirably although retreating under the constant pressure. Bodies were beginning to litter the deck; most, Dent was pleased to note, wearing blue.

The movement of men from the frigate to the Grip slowed and finally halted. Maybe sixty had boarded as the Second and Third squads suddenly smashed into the unprotected flanks of the boarders. Although they enjoyed an almost two to one numerical superiority, the Malshallian marines were packed so tightly together they were unable to bring their superior numbers to bear at any one point. Grimly Dent noted for future reference the mistake the Malshallians made in boarding at only one single point. It was becoming a real brawl with the outcome far from certain. Every once in a while one of the Grip's crew would fall quickly to be replaced by one of the common deck hands. Untrained as they were Dent couldn't find fault with their courage or ferocity as they tore into the enemy with whatever they had at hand.

"Now," Dent said turning to the First's squad leader. Without waiting for a response he started climbing the ladder to the pilot bridge as fast as possible. Once on the bridge he looked over to the other ship. The frigate's bridge was also set on the top of a deckhouse, slightly lower that the Grip's. The curve of both ships left a gap of some twenty to twenty-five feet between the two with nothing but choppy ocean below. On the other bridge Dent could see four men, the helmsman, two common seamen and one man in splendid blue and scarlet, obviously the captain.