Amazon
Pyrates: Book II, All the Kings' Men
Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: amazon/create space
ISBN-10: 1978022581
Type: Fiction
Pages: 114
Copyright: 2017
ISBN-13: 9781978022584
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
The sea saga continues as Mallgran and his people of the newly established Pyratia must deal with the naval forces of the two greatest military powers in the world and a killer storm. Meanwhile, Prince William, accompanied by Mallgran's sister Alicia, push the revolution against his brother, King Angoran, forward.
Captain Mallgran and the pyrates have won their battle to create the independent nation of Pyratia. But King Angoran of Brellonia and King Masidl of Fretellone have no intention of letting a "bunch of brigands" interfere with their quests for power and fortune. Meanwhile Prince William tries to push the rebellion forward with hopes of unseating his brother Angoran, and returning Brellonia to a nation for all her people. Civil war, a killer storm, and a host of royal wrong doings abound as Mallgran and his people deal with "all the kings' men".
Excerpt
Pyrates: Book II
All the Kings' Men
J.G. Pajot
Copyright 2017 J.G. Pajot
Please note that this novel is a work of fiction and any resemblance to people or places living or dead is purely coincidental. No excerpts from this work, in full or in part, may be used without the express written consent of the author.
Pyrates: Book II
All the Kings' Men
Prologue:
In book one of this series we have left Captain Averestt Mallgran and his sister and two children, along with the crews of the Empress of Antlantea and a score of pyrate vessels large and small, to their somewhat shaky victory over the Brellonian fleet, led by Mallgran's and the Empress's arch enemy, Admiral Kittrum Holgrath. Having been granted their independence by the Brellonian king, Angoran, the southern islands of the Cavanarian Sea had become the very loosely singular nation of Pyratia. Made up mostly of pyrates and local trades people, and one remaining native group, it was, Mallgran realized, going to be a real challenge to hold the infant nation together. It would be further complicated by the fact that Mallgran and his men and newly appointed leaders had little trust of King Angoran, nor his enemy King Masidl from the nation of Fretellone. While Fretellone and Brellonia had been at war for nearly two hundred years, there were facts emerging that began to cast strange shadows over that seemingly eternal war.
Meanwhile, William de Menk, younger brother of King Angoran, has been spirited away from Brellonia just ahead of assassins sent by his brother, and carried off to a land in the northern reaches of the Brellonian Island chain known as Norggeland, a fortress like place with high shear walls around a large cove with a small inlet. His rescue was first begun by three of his naval captain friends (de Menk was himself a naval captain, until he lost his leg in a duel between frigates with Mallgran and his crew.) He was then taken to Norggeland by one of his old captains, now turned rogue pyrate, one Ben Culldoone aboard Culldoone's ancient line of battle ship, the Vulture. Norggeland is Culldoone's ancestral land, and there William de Menk finds shelter in the family's enormous old castle while factions within the Brellonian military, especially the navy, begin the strumming of unrest in an attempt to bring about rebellion and replacing Angoran with his younger brother.
So here ye are, swabby. Up to date, in case ye failed to read book one. At least in the major details, anyway, aye?
So prepare for adventure. Political intrigue, and more royal wrong doings, as Mallgran and his people find themselves having to deal with all the kings' men...Huzzah for adventure, and up anchor, 'cause here we go!
Chapter I
The sky was a clear soft early spring blue and the water was its usual dark gray as the bow of the schooner Susan-Anne cut her way through that briny liquid, slamming heavily into the rolling waves as she was hard on the stiff wind that was blowing up from the South East. Towers of spray flew high over her bow, and she lay over on her starboard side, her gunnels no more than a few feet above the choppy seas. Captain Marcus Hemp stood with his palms down on the starboard rail as he leaned to keep his balance, watching the cold water rush past the vessel's side. Behind him, at the wheel, the helmsman was keeping a close eye on the sails as they curved with the force of the wind. Captain Hemp turned his head and looked back over the stern of the Susan-Anne and noted that their pursuer was still hot on their heels, but had gained no ground.
"These clipper schooners that the Northern Colonists have created are a wonderment, are they not, sir," a young man said, staggering up to Hemp's side.
"Watch yer footin' there, Mister Alcott," Hemp said with a smile. "Wet, slippery, and heeled a good twelve degrees or more'd be my guess. And, aye, I do love how this girl sails. Surprised that the Mystic is still on our tail. She's as hard to shake as a hound after the fox, she is."
"Well, Cap'n," the young Lt. Alcott replied, "She does have a good fifty feet of water line length on us. It's only our superior rig to weather that's saving us, would be my guess."
"Oh, to be sure, Mister Alcott," Hemp agreed. "But how she just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time is a puzzler. She should have been farther to the west, with the rest of the blockading fleet. Had we encountered any of those old scows, those drag arse sixty-fours, we'd have left them far behind. They sail like logs, they do."
"Aye," Alcott agreed. "But leave it to providence to have that damnable frigate down this way just as we rounded the cape. And by her sailing she must be new here, with a relatively clean bottom."
"Oh, she is, Mister Alcott," Hemp frowned. "She had left Feedledown Harbor only three weeks before we sailed. But the scuttle-but was she was sailing west to the Cavanarian, supposedly with some envoy for those rebels in Pyratia."
"A ruse, sir?" Alcott asked, frowning himself.
"Aye, and a worry that puts upon me, sir," Hemp confided. "It shows the depth of Angoran's paranoia. And that he may have more knowledge of our doings than we had suspected. There are spies everywhere, Mr. Alcott. Ours and his. This whole thing is a nasty business."
"Aye, Cap'n, but a necessary one, I be thinking, sir," Alcott said.
"Aye, Mr. Alcott, it could be as being a very necessary one if we wish to bring our nation back to its former glories," Captain Hemp sighed. "And perhaps right what may be a grievous injustice that has plagued us all for centuries."
"Surely that rumor is not true, sir?" Alcott asked, looking like a puppy begging for treats.
"It is my fervent wish it is not," Hemp assured him. "And that of William de Menk, as well. Yet, be it true we must act to prevent further bloodshed."
"With more bloodshed?" Lt. Alcott said in a soft voice.
"Aye, and ain't that the way of people, sir?" Hemp shook his head.
"They have fired a bow chaser, sir," came a call from aloft, interrupting their discussion.
"What a waste of shot," Hemp chuckled, shaking his head. The Mystic was far too far astern of them for any of her guns to reach them. And to prove it, a large tower of spray rose two hundred yards behind the Susan-Anne."The act of a frustrated captain and crew, to be sure," Hemp snickered.
"What will happen, though, if they are still so near when we must make our turn for the inlet to Norggeland?" Lt. Alcott asked in a nervous tone. "We will have to turn almost due north to make the inlet, and then they will be on a beating reach to catch us up. And we will be heeled, if we maintain sail, far too far over for our larboard guns to bear on them as they approach. Plus our deck will be exposed to their fire."
"Aye, Lt. Alcott," Hemp agreed, "all good points. Yet, if we sail on past the inlet, we will soon sail dead into the blockading fleet. And even those wallowing sixty-fours can easily sink us when in full numbers. It would be hard to avoid all ten of them, I be thinking."
"Should we reduce sail, then, when we turn, sir, so that we can bring our guns to bear?" Alcott suggested.
"Ten eight pounders against a thirty-six frigate?" Hemp snorted a chuckle. "I think not, sir. Our speed is our only weapon against that ship, and if we can make the inlet, or near enough to let Culldone's artillery on the cliff tops get range on our hound, we will be home free long before the Mystic can come close enough to turn and fire a full broadside."
"Then it's a race, sir?" Alcott cocked his head in amusement.
"Aye, has been all afternoon, sir," Hemp winked at him. "And one I mean to win."
NNNNNN
"Where away, lad?" Ben Culldoone asked of the young man standing beside him as he scanned the waters before him with his glass. "Ah, there she is! And a frigate hot up her arse. There, William," Culldoone pointed off to the right of where William de Menk was training his glass.
"Are you sure that's Marcus, Ben?" the two had agreed to dispense with titles, as they only seemed to confuse the issue. William would be addressed as "sire" in formal settings, but he and Ben Culldoone had been friends as well as serving officers aboard Culldoone's ship while he still served in the Brellonian navy, and that was how they expressed themselves when "on the common". Even the "captain" was often left for more formal settings.
"Aye, William, I am sure that be him," Ben nodded. "My people from Feedledown said he would be aboard the clipper schooner Susan-Anne, and that is undoubtedly her. No mistaking those lines, as she be the only Colonial clipper this far east these days. How he got his hands on her I dunna know, but a fine vessel she is."
"She does seem to be giving that frigate a run for her money," William agreed, a little in awe that the smaller vessel was keeping her lead over the larger frigate. "Look how high into the wind she is pointing. And maintaining speed, as well. The frigate is falling farther west with each mile, but still she is a tenacious witch, is she not."
The Susan-Anne was on a southerly course, pulling as tight into the south east wind, with the Brellonian frigate perhaps two miles back and to the west. In order to make the inlet to the bay, the Susan-Anne would have to tack north east, which would put them on a broad reach. The rocky reefs to the north west of the bay's inlet precluded any earlier turn, even if they could press inshore against the wind, so the schooner would be almost heading back toward the frigate, which could close them on a hard press on a northerly tack. But the frigate would have to be wary of the reef , as well, so it would be a close thing all around.
"Are ye all ready, there?" Culldoone called down the line of 24 pounders that lined the cliff top.
"Aye, Cap'n," the sailor nearest him nodded, a vicious grin on his face.
"With this elevation we can fire a good four to five miles out with at least some accuracy," Culldoone told William. "So as soon as that frigate is in range we will remind him why the blockading force keeps its distance. Do wonder, as a thought," he mused, "why there were no sixty-fours to the north. I only can vaguely see the top of their masts down sou-west of us, and I count all ten together. Not sure where the other two frigates might be, but they be nowhere in sight, so ole Marcus has no fear from them."
The Brellonians had sent a rather ragtag fleet to blockade the bay at Norggeland as soon as King Angoran got news that his brother, who had escaped his assassins, was now being given refuge there. It was meant to keep the Vulture and any other larger vessels in more than to stop vessels from arriving, though if vessels coming in could be stopped, they would be, and their crews and passengers immediately arrested as potential rebels to the state. Culldoone and de Menk had had to watch helplessly as many small boats had been treated that way, and knowing that the men and women aboard where most likely part of the growing rebel movement, and were now cast away into dank prisons and the prison hulks along the north end of Feedledown harbor. Angoran had made sure that there would be plenty of room for those that opposed him in such places. And plenty of quick trials and summary executions of the more prominent among them.
He fervently hoped, at this moment, that his friend Captain Marcus Hemp would not join that unpleasant rank of prisoners. It had been Marcus and two other captains that had come to William's rescue when his brother had sent those assassins to kill him. And it was those three captains who had helped him ambush and kill the killers, then had helped smuggle him to Culldoone's ship. He had not heard from the other two, Donald Greene and Sylver Camsor, since. He had heard they had been forced to go "underground" because the king's secret police had gotten wind of their part in William's escape.
"He is nearly at the point to make his tack across the wind and head for the inlet. I have two boats there at the mouth awaiting him, so that they can tow him in once he is inside the cliffs, as he will loose much if not all the wind at that point," Culldoone assured William. "There. There she goes now."
William saw the schooner begin turning toward them, her sails beginning to flap uselessly as the wind came dead on her nose. William crossed his fingers, hoping that the ship did not stall and leave itself in irons. Marcus Hemp was a fine seaman, though, and with such a fine vessel, that was something that should not happen. Then the Susan-Anne was around, her nose pointing farther north as the sails were brought around to the port side and given some slack as the wind began to hit her more broadside as she continued turning until her bow was nearly due north east. William saw the frigate making its turn as well, holding a more easterly course, still somewhat hard on the wind for a square rigged vessel. William was relieved to see that the Mystic's speed had dropped, that point of sail obviously not her best. But still, she had a slight angle on the Susan-Anne, and was actually beginning to close the gap.
"Tenacious bugger, indeed," Culldoone shook his head as the frigate fired a round from its bow chaser. The plume of water was still far behind the schooner, but not as far as the first one had been.
"Ready on those guns, boys," he shouted over the wind that whipped across his left shoulder. At well over a hundred feet above sea level, the wind at the cliff tops was stiff and steady. He saw a large bank of dark clouds to the south west, and smiled. It was one of those North Antlantea spring squalls, full of boom and bluster. It would give the blockading fleet plenty to keep them busy in the hours to come, but was too far off to affect the current drama unfolding closer to them.
"Gods, but it is going to be close," William fretted, wringing his hands. "How soon can you open fire, Ben?"
"I'd say another fifteen or twenty minutes might do," Ben replied. "Mayhap a little sooner, as the Susan-Anne seems to have sprouted wings, she does."
The schooner was pressing hard, her gunnel nearly in the water, her bow flinging spray halfway up her towering mainmast as it slanted out to larboard. The frigate was gaining speed as well, having left her courses down, a dangerous practice if she intended to fire her broadside guns, as the sparks could catch those lower square rigged sails afire. But she was still too far to the north and astern to bring them to bear.
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