Raven Saint by MaryLu Tyndall Page B

had known Mr. Thorn, the man had never enjoyed the amenities of port, had often opted to stay on board when the rest of the crew went ashore. Especially in Port-de-Paix. No matter. Perhaps the man’s long days at sea had changed his appetites.
    Sunlight set the peaks of waves aglow in silvery strips that glittered as far as his eye could see. The smell of oakum, pitch, and salt filled his nostrils, and Rafe took a deep breath. He loved the sea. The ultimate playing field for those who craved danger, excitement, and freedom. They were the outcasts of society—those who did as they pleased and answered to no man.
    A speck appeared on the horizon just as “A sail, a sail!” bellowed from the masthead. Setting Spyglass upon the deck, Rafe plucked the telescope from his belt and leveled it upon the intruder, wondering if perhaps the mademoiselle’s family had pursued them. Thorn coughed beside him. Two red sails glutted with wind filled his vision, and from the white foam clawing the bow of the ship beneath them, she appeared to be rushing straight for them.
    â€œWho is she?” Thorn asked as Rafe handed him the glass.
    â€œHave a look.”
    Mr. Thorn peered toward the ship. “I can’t make her out yet, Captain.”
    â€œOnly one ship I know of has crimson sails.”
    â€œCaptain Howell.” The first mate lowered the glass. “Isn’t he one of Roger Woodes’s men? I wonder what he’s doing out here.”
    â€œOui, one of his laquais, and he searches for pirates is my guess. Those who did not accept the king’s pardon or who have since broken the accord.”
    â€œThen we have nothing to fear from him.” Thorn slammed the glass shut and handed it to Rafe, but not before Rafe heard the slight tremble in his voice.
    â€œI trust no one.” Rafe crammed the spyglass into his baldric. “Ready the guns, but do not run them out. And send the men aloft in case we need to unfurl topsail.”
    â€œAye, Captain.” The first mate touched his hat, spun on his heel, and marched away.
    Within an hour, Rafe could easily make out the schooner Avenger crowding every stitch of her red canvas and housing a full tier of guns fore and aft. Captain George Howell stood regally at her helm.
    Rafe’s gut churned. What did Howell want with him? He glanced upward where the flag of France flapped regally from LeChampion’ s foremast. There were no hostilities between France and Britain, unless some war had broken out of which he was unaware.
    But he didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the Avenger veered to larboard and ranged up alongside Le Champion. One by one gun ports popped open, and the charred muzzles of twelve guns bade him welcome.
    A thunderous boom roared across the sky and shook the sea.

CHAPTER 6
    Boom! Grace jerked awake. A colorful pattern blurred in her vision he rubbed her eyes. The pattern came into focus, and she realized it was the upholstered back of the chair she knelt beside. The bulkhead quivered. The planks shook beneath her legs. Her heart seized. She sprang to her feet. Ignoring her dizziness, she bolted for the door. A gun had been fired. That meant an enemy was in sight. And that carried the possibility of her rescue. She darted down the companionway and up the ladder, praying that perhaps her sister Faith had somehow found her. Oh, Lord, let it be so!
    Pushing aside her fear, she rushed across the deck, weaving among the sailors dashing here and there as they obeyed their captain’s orders. Gripping the railing, she batted away the smoke and peered toward a two-masted ship bearing down upon them off their larboard bow. Red sails, stark against the blue sky, gorged with wind as they pushed the vessel onward. Her heart sank. ’Twas not her sister Faith’s ship, the Red Siren. But perhaps the ship’s captain might still be noble enough to save her from these villains. She coughed as the dissipating smoke