Raid

A/N

Welcome, my children. This is an LGBTQ+ themed historical fantasy, so if you are not interested in a romance between two men, I suggest you find a different book to read.

If you are interested, then buckle up my friends, because we've got a pirate here and he's looking for some booty.

-Mora Montgomery

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The ship shuddered violently as a cannon ball ripped through the hull, throwing up thousands of tiny splinters in its wake. Wesley Roberts gripped the banister tightly to keep himself upright in that moment before he was once again flying down the steps to the main deck.

"Fire at will!" he shouted to the crew members frantically loading the cannons.

A chorus of aye captains followed him as he raced down the deck, checking that each man was armed and ready for what was to come. Once satisfied, he hurried up to the helm.

"Get us turned around!" he shouted to his first mate, Castor Williams. "If they come full broadside, they'll be able to board!"

"Captain, we won't be able to outrun them," Castor voiced his concerns, doing his best to steer the ship away from the attackers.

Wesley knew there was little hope. His double masted brigantine was meant for trading, not fighting. It only had twelve guns. The frigate firing at them was a triple masted vessel built for speed and war. It had at least thirty-six guns and could sink them in a heartbeat. The only reason they were still floating was because of the cargo in their hold.

"I know," Wesley said to the man. "But it might keep us alive for a bit longer."

The ship groaned as it started to turn and the pirate vessel pushed to overtake it from the outside of its arc. Much to Wesley's dismay, it was catching up. The drooping sails above him were proof that they were losing the wind.

Descending to the main deck again, the merchant captain addressed his crew.

"Prepare to be boarded," he bellowed. "That ship out there is the Blight of the Sea! There will be no mercy from them, so there will be no mercy from us! Let's show them that the crew of the Queen Adelaide will not go down without a fight!"

Wesley drew his sword from the sheath at his hip with the last words of his speech, eliciting a response of determined cheers from his men.

They all knew the odds weren't good. There were only seventeen of them. The oncoming ship probably had at least thirty pirates, all of which more experienced fighters than the merchant crew.

They were outmanned, outgunned, and soon would be overtaken by the enemy crew.

"It was an honor sailing with you, Captain," the sailing master said, standing beside him at the taffrail as they watched the Blight of the Sea glide up beside them.

Cannons still fired from either side, making both vessels tremble from the impacts. However, the frequency of the shots slowed significantly once the enemy crew started swinging onto the merchant ship.

Wesley gripped the hilt of his sword firmly as he started to fight off the first pirate that landed near him. The man was brutish and fought with his strength, doing everything he could to overpower his opponent. Wesley grunted with the effort it took to block each of the powerful blows. He could feel the vibrations of each strike rattling deep into his shoulders and it unnerved him. He'd never fought a man of such caliber before.

The sound of metal on metal rang all around the merchant captain as he fended off his attacker.

When an opening presented itself, Wesley lunged forward and pierced the pirate beneath the ribs with a sickening squish. He quickly pulled back to deflect the sword as it fell toward him for a final time. As the pirate registered the pain, the weapon slipped from the his fingers and he instinctually moved to hold his wound. His knees cracked against the deck moments before his skull did.

Wesley felt as though he might be sick as he tore his eyes away from the man, only for them to latch onto the vile red liquid that dripped from his blade. He had never killed a man before today. He had sparred with many, but never had he taken a life.

He shook his head to rid the thoughts plaguing his mind. There was no time to contemplate it now. They were still under attack.

Wesley's eyes flitted wildly about the scene, an icy feeling overtaking him. A few members of his crew had already fallen. Their chances of survival were becoming slimmer and slimmer with each passing second. He hated that they were at such a disadvantage. It wasn't fair. None of his men deserved to die like this.

Across the chaos, Wesley's eyes briefly caught those of his first mate. He jerked his head in a silent command, and Castor seemed to understand as he darted in the direction of the stairwell that led below deck.

Wesley quickly brought up his sword again when another man rushed him. He blocked the blow with a clang before reciprocating with a few of his own. After about a minute of intense sparring, Wesley was able to trick the pirate into lunging and creating another opening. The pirate had barely realized what had happened when Wesley slashed his sword across the man's throat.

Without warning, a body slammed into Wesley, knocking him off of his feet and sending his sword clattering across the deck. He desperately crawled toward it, knowing he would soon be dead if he could not reach it.

Sensing heavy footsteps rushing him from behind, Wesley whirled himself onto his back just as the pirate reached him. Unable to reach his weapon, Wesley brought up his arms in a feeble attempt to protect himself as the pirate raised his sword.

"That's enough!" a strong, authoritative voice bellowed over the chaos, causing it to immediately come to a halt.

Wesley's eyes shot to the taffrail, where the owner of the voice was perched, eyeing the scene with a catlike, calculating gaze.

"Which one of you calls yourself Captain?"

"I do," Wesley spoke confidently. He knew of the ill fate that would likely befall him, but he would rather endure it than see any harm come to his men for staying quiet. Slowly, Wesley got to his feet, discretely slipping a small blade from his boot as he stood.

The man's predatory gaze latched onto the merchant captain. An unsettling smile spread across his lips at the discovery. He hopped down from the taffrail and approached the merchant captain with slow, deliberate footsteps.

When what remained of Wesley's crew tried to move closer to defend him, the nearest pirates made short work of restraining them with blades to their throats.

Wesley stood his ground, even as the pirate blatantly invaded his personal space. He was close enough that Wesley could see his eyes were an odd shade of lavender, even in the dim light.

Glaring at the man, Wesley gripped the blade firmly, about to make his final stand when the pirate opened his mouth again.

"Give me that knife," he said lowly, "or they all die."

Wesley's heart went still for a moment, unsure of how the man had seen it, or what he would do to him because of it.

Looking around, Wesley took in the fear stricken faces of his crew members. If he went through with his plan, they'd all be slaughtered like lambs before his eyes. However, if he cooperated, he might just be able to lessen their pain and suffering.

Slowly, Wesley loosened his grip, handing the blade numbly out to his enemy.

"Good boy," the pirate praised him, taking his last hope with a smug expression. Grabbing Wesley's chin and tilting his face from side to side, the pirate examined the merchant.

Instinctually, Wesley jerked his head out of the man's grip, sending as much hate as he could convey through his eyes.

This close, Wesley could see how muscular the pirate was. However, the distribution of that muscle over the man's tall frame presented him as more of a lean, yet toned figure. In addition to that, he held himself with an unprecedented grace that Wesley simply couldn't wrap his head around. It was odd to see coming from a pirate instead of a nobleman.

"What cargo do you carry on this ship, Captain?"

"Silk," he announced. "And wine."

The pirate seemed pleased with the answer. "That will catch a pretty price with my buyers."

"You can have it. Just don't harm my crew."

"You are in no position to barter with me, Captain," the pirate mused. "Tell me your name."

"No," Wesley let a bit of his defiance slip through. He didn't want to give the pirate everything. If his name was the only thing he was able to take to his grave then so be it.

In a flash, the pirate gripped Wesley's shirt and glared harshly at him.

"Name," he demanded again in a deadly tone. "Pray I do not have to ask again."

"Wesley Roberts," a voice from Wesley's crew piped up, and the merchant captain looked over to see it was his first mate. Castor had fear in his eyes for not only himself, but his friend as well.

The pirate smirked as he turned his gaze back to Wesley. "It seems you have a rat on your ship, Captain Roberts."

Wesley didn't respond. As the pirate gradually released his grip, he drank in Wesley's features and asked in a low, breathy tone, "Do you know my name?"

Wesley blinked as he thought. It was obvious that this man was in charge. His ship was the Blight of the Sea, an omen of death and loss known by all seafarers, which meant he had to be the one and only, "Valentine Cross."

"Very good, Wesley," he breathed, the warm air fanning across the merchant captain's face. "Now I suggest you listen closely because I don't do this very often."

Wesley's curiosity grew, though he kept a healthy degree of skepticism as he listened to the pirate.

"I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

"What kind of deal?" he asked, his heart racing.

"I seem to have found something that I want even more than your ship's cargo," he said with an unsettling smirk. "And I am prepared to let what remains of your crew sail free if I get it."

"Name your price," Wesley said, at this point ready to agree to anything if his crew would live.

Valentine reached out and tilted Wesley's head up so he could get a better view of it. His smirk seemed to grow as he let one little word slip through his lips.

"You."

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A/N

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The adventure continues this Friday! Stay tuned!

Thanks for the read,

-Mora Montgomery

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Useful Terminology:

Hull - the outer shell of the ship

Helm - the steering wheel

Broadside - the side of the ship, like the broadside of a barn

Mast - the tree-sized vertical posts on a pirate ship to which the sails are attached

Brigantine - a ship with two main masts, usually smaller than a frigate

Frigate - a ship with three main masts, usually bigger than a brigantine

Taffrail - railing that helps you to not fall overboard

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