choppy water pulled it, testing the tether of the ropes. Through a tiny window an unsteady light wavered.
Even in the black of night, the docks were never quiet. A man ran past. Two others came from the opposite direction, their voices no louder than whispers.
Graham felt William approach. “What are we going to do?”
“We are going to wait.”
“Wait?”
“Patience, brother.”
Graham was as eager—if not more so—and checked his timepiece, though he already knew the time. The moon’s location in its path across the night sky gave him all the information he needed. Dawn would arrive soon and shed its cool light on the docks and sleeping ships, rousing all from their slumber.
To Graham’s best guess, Littleton had left the warehouse with five men. The odds of being able to board the ship were unfavorable. After all, the entire crew could be aboard. He spotted one sailor. Then another. But his options were waning. A hired crew would likely offer little loyalty and protection to Littleton, and he’d already missed one opportunity to free the women and Lucy. He’d not miss another.
Minutes slipped by at a sluggish pace, and the moon crawled along its path in the night sky, illuminating the low-hanging clouds. With every passing moment, his senses heightened just as they had in an impending battle. The hair on his neck stood straight. He was on constant alert. But never before had a battle been so critical—never had so much been at stake.
Sulter’s past and long-forgotten words of God rushed to the forefront of his mind. Suddenly they seemed clear. His own strength was not sufficient. Even though he did not know what awaited him in the wooden confines of the Perseverance, God did. Graham knew well the dangers of boarding an enemy ship, docked or not. But tonight he would not board the ship of his own strength. He would not cower in fear at the unknown. Tonight he would pray. He would put his faith in the God who had offered him forgiveness. Offered patience. Offered him a future.
A cloud covered the moon, shadowing the docks still further. But just then, a lantern’s light appeared on deck. Then another. Two darkened forms accompanied the lights. Graham’s jaw twitched. Now was the time.
Sulter leaned close, his gravelly voice low. “Thou, O Lord, art just and powerful: O defend our cause against the face of the enemy.”
Graham recognized the prayer. It was from the Book of Common Prayer, often spoken at sea when facing an imminent battle. The words had been long memorized and often quoted. But tonight they took on new meaning and infused him with humble confidence.
He finished the prayer. “O God, thou art a strong tower of defense to all that flee unto thee: O save us from the violence of the enemy. O Lord of hosts, fight for us, that we may glorify thee. O suffer us not to sink under the weight of our sins, or the violence of the enemy.” His voice shook with the final words. “O Lord, arise, help us, and deliver us for thy Name’s sake.”
Graham’s heart pounded as erratically as the waves lapping the side of the Perseverance. After instructing William to stay behind and keep watch, he and Sulter turned toward the ship. Even though the ship itself was unfamiliar, his confidence surged. They were on his turf now, and with God’s help, they would persevere.
Sure-footed, with weapon brandished, he boarded the frigate with Sulter close behind.
But then he heard her. Lucy.
The babe’s sharp cry punctuated the night’s sounds, followed by an angry voice that could only be Littleton’s. Graham adjusted his grip on his pistol and with his other hand reached down to make sure his blade was still tucked in his boot.
The vessel creaked and rolled beneath them. With his feet firmly on the deck, he looked up. The mainmast stretched into the starless sky, and coupled with the vessel’s gentle movement, a myriad of memories flooded him. But it was the sounds of voices Graham listened for. They could be anywhere in the dark maze of lower decks. When a cry pierced the night, he looked at Sulter. They followed the cry down a ladder. A dangerous decision, really, for once below deck, they would be trapped if they were not successful.
The sound led them to the wardroom. How many times had he entered a wardroom? In times of relaxation, to dine with officers. In times of battle, when it served as a makeshift surgery room.