Artemis - Kydd 02 Read Online Free

fortune deny us the victory.'
    Powlett broke clear of the group. 'Give 'em a gun and tell 'em who we are, Mr Parry.'
    A gun to weath er banged out. Overhead the battl e ensign broke out, its enormous size streaming brazenly in the breeze.
    Powlett bared his teeth. 'Rig the splinter nettings, Mr Parry, and we'll have barricades in the tops.' He glanced at the heavy frigate riding the waves ahead. 'We're going to have to earn our honours today.'
    Leaning out of the gunport below, Kydd and Stirk tried to make out the ship ahead. 'He's a Frog, 'n' we's invitin' him to a tea party,' Stirk said, pulling back inboard. 'An' it looks to be a right roaratorious time, he bein' at least our weight o' metal.'
    Kydd looked at the enemy again. There was activity at the braces as the ship began a turn. Her profile shortened as she fell away off the wind, showing her ornamented stern and gathering way as she fled from them. Kydd was incredulous. 'She's running!'
    Renzi's cool voice from behind answered him. 'As she should, of course, dear fellow. Her captain knows his job is to fall upon our merchant shipping, our commerce — that is the greatest harm she can do our cause. We are of the same force. If he engages, the be st he can expect is a cosdy battl e. He will be damaged and cannot proceed to his real work. He must preserve his ship.'
    Stirk looked at him in contempt. 'Preserve 'is ship? No man preserves 'is honour by runnin'. Not even a Frenchy!'
    Renzi shrugged.
    'Haaands to make sail!' Powlett wanted royals loosed. Cito yenne was shaping a course that took the breeze on her quarter, but Artemis was not accounted a flyer for nothing. Taut and trim, she sped along.
    Kydd joined the others on the foredeck, watching the chase. Foam-flecks spattered up from the slicing stem, streaming air thrumming gaily in the rigging. The weather was perfect for Artemis, and she drew closer; Citoyenne was now some small miles ahead and downwind.
    Without warning Citoyenne angled over, to come as close to the wind as she could lie. Artemis followed suit immediately to keep to her weather position, and the two sped over the lifting seas. Powlett rapidly had bowlines fast to their bridles, stretching the forward edges of the sails to their utmost in a hard straining of every stitch of canvas.
    'Haaands to quarters!'
    Kydd clattered down the fore-hatch and closed up at his gun, heart thudding. He pulled down the rammer stave from its beckets at the deckhead and stood clear while Stirk checked gear.
    Renzi looked calm and flexed his shoulders. Others finished folding and tying their kerchiefs over their ears. Most stripped to the waist, while some tested the wet sanded deck to decide whether bare feet would give the better grip.
    Stirk made a fuss of securing Luke's ear pads. The boy stood wide-eyed on the hatch gratings and from the tone of Stirk's murmuring Kydd guessed that he was doing his best to ease the lad's fears. He wondered what he could think of to say in like circumstances. The gundeck settl ed, the guns long since run out ready for the first broadside. Stirk waited patiently at the breech with the lanyard from the gunlock coiled in his hand.
    Kydd, now perfectl y competent at his task after long hours of practice, was icily aware that this was not an exercise. He remembered his previous brush with the enemy, but that had been in a powerful ship-of-the-line; he had seen blood and death but it had ended brutally and quickly. Now, he wondered how he would perform in a much smaller ship, at closer quarters. He shuddered and looked about him. Doggo, his station at the muzzle, was leaning out of the gunport, gazing steadily ahead. Renzi stood with his arms folded, a half-smile playing on his lips. On the centre-line, Luke waited with his cartridge box in his hands, anxiously watching Stirk. Kydd knew that he was more worried about letting down his hero than possible death or mutilation.
    The gundeck was strangely quiet, odd shipboard noises sounding