Sea of Ruin - Pam Godwin Page 0,123

felt like a sledge in my chest. Shock waves rippled outward, and his boots lost purchase on the rungs. We started to fall, my stomach plunging. But his hands caught the deck above, and he pulled us up.

“Let me walk!” I shouted over the din of shrieking men and distant gunfire.

“Quiet!” He heaved me through the hatchway.

I had no choice but to hang on as he ran through the lower decks. All around us, sailors scurried left to right, paying no attention to the shirtless commodore and his female prisoner.

Gunfire grew louder, erupting overhead. Screams and curses chilled my skin. The stench of sweat, smoke, and fear congested the air. Mayhem ensued, and we were headed into the thick of it.

“I hope you have a plan.” I hung upside down with my face against his back, wishing I’d had the foresight to grab a knife from the hold. “Where’s your ship?”

“With any luck, she still sits a hundred feet off the flagship’s larboard. My plan is to get us to her.”

That didn’t fill me with hope. If the flagship was under attack, Ashley’s ship would be, as well. The admiral was dead. The commodore of HMS Blitz was with me. Who was commanding these ships? Who was attacking?

In the back of my mind, I wondered if Priest was responsible for this battle. It would be just like him to make an appearance now with guns blazing.

Ashley burst out of the final companionway and onto the upper deck, holding fast to my lower body. The bulkhead beside us exploded in a shower of wood, but he didn’t flinch or slow his sprint.

Black obscured the sky and sea. Not just from the smoke. The hours of darkness were upon us.

I clung to his broad frame, blinking in the haze of sulfur, unable to believe my eyes. Bodies lay everywhere, some dismembered by chain-shot, others still alive and crushed beneath overturned cannons. Many were so mutilated there were only pieces left.

The gangways and foremast were gone, smashed by massive, hard-punching cannons. Thirty-two-pounders if I had to guess. But that wasn’t possible unless HMS Blitz was shooting at this ship.

Gunfire ricocheted, and fires burned, the smoldering haze so black it made visibility impossible. I scanned every direction, searching for the attacking ship. Men continued to drop to their deaths, the shots coming from somewhere off our larboard.

Ashley seemed to share my thoughts, for he raced in that direction. On his way, he ripped a spyglass from the hands of a lieutenant, not waiting for the protests.

He reached the larboard bow and set me under it, out of the line of fire.

“Don’t move!” Standing over me, he raised the glass to his eye. “God’s wounds, I can’t see!”

Cannon thunder vibrated across the sea, up through the deck, and into my rattling bones.

“My lord?” A sailor appeared at Ashley’s side, bleeding from a wound on his face. “Why are you here?”

I tucked myself against the bow, trying to remain out of view.

“I’ve been here all day.” Ashley dropped his hand to my head as if making sure I hadn’t moved. “Is my ship firing at this one? Who’s attacking?”

“It’s Madwulf MacNally, my lord. He and his men escaped the hold and overtook HMS Blitz. They’re attacking us, using the guns on your ship.”

My face went cold, and my heart sprinted out of my chest. I wanted to deny what I’d heard, but as I took in the carnage and destruction, it made terrifying sense. Only a one-hundred-gun ship of the line could do this kind of damage.

Ashley’s ship was the deadliest on the sea, and it was now under the command of a violent, deranged pirate.

“May God be with you, my lord.” The sailor ran off to help a fallen comrade.

Ashley didn’t move.

Reaching out, I touched his leg and felt a tremor run through the muscle. “Ashley?”

Was he in shock? Or was he thinking through a plan?

Another boom barreled through the smoke, the horrendous sound ringing my ears. I hunched low as a cannonball careened across the deck and took out a row of starboard guns. Gunners exploded into meaty fragments. Some were still alive, still screaming and kicking as blood spurted from irreparable wounds.

Beside me, a man leaped overboard as the ship burned around us.

“Ashley!” I punched his knee.

He tossed the telescope and crouched before me, his eyes wild and glowing in the shadows.

“I can’t stop this ship from sinking. She’s mortally wounded.” He gripped my face, locking us together. “We must get back to

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