A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1)
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“I’ll stop shooting you if you stop climbing towards me with swords!” Liam yelled from the crows nest as he aimed his rifle over the side. After hitting two men who’d been trying to join in Bufford’s attack on Pierce, those not engaged in the duel had turned their attention to Liam. So far he’d shot two men as they climbed the rope ladders that led above, careful to only wing them. However like their comrades fighting Sean and MacDuff, this only enraged the remainder more. So there were two more quickly climbing up to face him. When they ignored a second of his pleas, Liam shot one of them in the shoulder, dropping him to the deck below in a cry of pain. However there wasn’t enough time to reload before the second had reached the top of the ladder.
“I warned him,” Liam offered innocently has the sailor swung at him with a knife he removed from his teeth. Liam dodged it easily and brought the butt end of the spent rifle into the man’s gut, dropping him immediately. He then delivered a blow to the head, knocking him unconscious. Knowing the fall would kill his attacker; Liam removed the knife, tied him to the mast, and then decided to join the fight below.
The duel below spanned the length of the ship, having started on the bow, they now found themselves fighting up the stairs to the quarterdeck at the stern. Bufford had quickly realized the skill of his opponent and had settled down his wild attacks. Pierce adapted well to the change, but found that his smaller blade was taking a pounding.
“You can’t possibly think you can beat me with that toothpick,” Bufford goaded after delivering an arm shattering blow.
“I’ve already beaten you,” Pierce rejoined, quickly stepping inwards and slicing Bufford’s face. “You’re just too stupid to realize it!”
Bufford reacted with brutal force quicker than Pierce was prepared for, catching him in the face with the pommel and splitting his lip. Pierce shook his head clear and spat out some blood, barely prepared for the next attack.
They continued to clash swords, neither one gaining the upper hand until Bufford tripped into the helmsman currently at the wheel of the ship. The contact was enough to knock the sailor off balance, loosening his grip on the wheel and making the ship lurch once again. Pierce took a few steps back to steady himself, finding the distance between him and Bufford greatly increased. Seizing the opportunity, he pulled out a loaded pistol he’d been saving from his belt.
Behind smiling eyes he aimed it squarely at Bufford’s center mass as he’d been taught. He waited as the sailor regained control of the wheel, lessening the chance of missing his target. He waited for Bufford to turn and look at him, wanting him to see the bullet coming.
But as he waited, he took a quick glance to the fight below. Despite Liam joining in and the bodies lying around them, his men were still largely outnumbered. A few of the crew had emerged from below decks with better weapons. One of these men was charging at MacDuff from behind as the large Scotsmen fought off two others. Without thinking, the pistol in Pierce’s hand shifted smoothly and he fired at the man without blinking. He watched the body crumple in satisfaction, receiving a grateful, albeit surprised, nod from MacDuff.
The satisfaction was shortly lived, as Bufford was once more upon him and as livid as ever. The brush with death had energized the man from Georgia and he pushed his assault on Pierce with more fervour than before. Pierce decided to trade space for time and defended himself as best he could while retreating back to the bow of the ship.
The man Pierce had shot was only the first of the second wave of sailors who returned from the armoury below. Although not great in numbers, their appearance was enough to negate the progress the Brown Pack had made. They continued to fight until four of the sailors raised loaded muskets at them from point blank range.
“Easy lads,” MacDuff said calmly as he lowered his weapons, signalling for Sean and Liam to do the same. However with the captain still missing and Bufford fighting with Pierce at the bow, the sailors didn’t know what to do next. So they simply covered them with their muskets, too wary to disarm the dangerous men in long dark jackets. “Aye Sean, just like Culloden.”
Despite seeing the scene from the bow, Bufford continued attacking Pierce, now fully confident in his eventual triumph.
“Give up and I’ll let your men go,” Bufford offered as he delivered an easily parried thrust.
“Go to hell!” Pierce countered as he took a step back, seeing his men’s situation for himself. A sudden wave of defeat deflated him as he took stock of the situation. Despite this he knew that he still had to try and sink the ship. He couldn’t let her reach America with her deadly cargo. Even if Bufford’s plan didn’t succeed and he was stopped when entering the Manor, there would still be crates of modern weapons stashed and ready to be found by anyone. The end result could be just as catastrophic as Bufford succeeding in his plan.
“You first,” Bufford replied angrily, drawing Pierce’s attention back as he removed a pistol from under his jacket. “Seems like you brought a knife to a gunfight sonny.”
He cocked the gun while it remained pointing down, taking a few breaths to steady his hands. Their fight had lasted long enough for both men to be exhausted. After a few moments he raised the pistol towards Pierce, who hoped that the Colonel really was a bad shot.
“Nooo!” shouted a scream from behind Pierce, quickly followed by the loud crack of a fired gun. A second shot soon sounded and Pierce heard a whistling pass his ear. Looking behind him Pierce was shocked to see Jane standing halfway out of the forward hatch with a rifle in her hands. Pierce then looked back to Bufford who was kneeling, the smoking pistol still firmly in his grip as he felt a wound on his arm.
“Are you ok?” Jane called from the hatchway. She had dropped the rifle and was shaking slightly, but was otherwise in good spirits. Pierce stared at her with more passion than he’d ever felt in his life. Smiling she looked past him to Bufford, “good, finish this.”
Pierce nodded and walked towards Bufford, keeping his eyes on the armed men at the stern. They still had their rifles pointed towards his men, but they were now fully engrossed on the scene at the bow.
“Looks like you brought an empty tube of metal to a sword fight, you bastard,” Pierce spat as he marched towards Bufford with determination. Without hesitation he plunged the point of his blade into the Colonel’s heart, killing him instantly. Unlike with Ivan, Pierce felt no guilt dispatching Colonel Bufford. Taking a step back, he felt Jane’s body come up behind him.
“We’ve got to go,” Jane offered hurriedly, pointing towards the hatch. “I finished where Sean left off and lit the fuse for the gunpowder. I don’t know how long we’ve got.”
“Gentlemen,” Pierce called across the deck of the ship as he moved towards the group of men at the stern. He stopped only once to pick up his discarded scabbard, sliding the blade in and turning it back into a walking stick. “I am the Count of Monte Cristo. I apologise for the intrusion upon your vessel and would be grateful if you could release my men.”
“You pay for their release,” replied a sailor who had taken charge, blood dripping from a gash in his forehead.”
“Of course,” Pierce replied happily as he started to search in his jacket. With his head turned he whispered to Jane, asking if the rowboat was still being towed behind the ship. When she nodded he told her to get to the railing and get ready to jump over the side. “I’ve got some gold right here.”
Pierce tossed a small bag onto the deck and then motioned to his men. They instantly figured out his meaning and started to slowly back their way towards the rail.
“Now that we have your money, we will take your lives,” sneered the sailor as he picked up the bag. But his face instantly turned into a frown when he discovered it was empty except for two dingy coins. As he yelled an order for his men to fire, an explosion from the bow shook the ship. A fire ball shot out from the side and bullets ripped up through the deck like shrapnel.
Unlike the confused crewmen, Jane and the Brown Pack were over the rails l
ike a shot, splashing into the water haphazardly. After surfacing they all swam like mad to reach the rope that was towing their rowboat. They followed the rope to their small vessel, cutting it quickly as the Courted Anne started to sink. Pierce helped Jane in first and then they all hauled themselves over the sides, careful to not tip it over.
“Well, I think that went well,” Liam offered breathlessly as they all laid strewn across the boat’s floor in exhaustion.
Chapter 32