Storm over the Caribbean

24. Blood on the Sea

"Rraaaah!"

With a bestial roar I would have expected more of a primordial monster than of my silent ice block of a husband, Mr Rikkard Ambrose barrelled into the line of soldiers, wielding his knife like an insane serial killer on psychotropic drugs. The man who had been shouting to shoot at me went down first, the knife hitting him in the gut so hard it went all the way through and came out the other side.

"Guh!"

Grabbing the whole man like a piece of meat on a shashlik stick, Mr Ambrose swept him up into the air and hurled him at three of his compatriots. Not waiting to see how they went down, he whirled around towards the remaining four soldiers, a stolen rifle in his hands.

Do you want to know something interesting about soldiers? When they shoot, they form up in a line. Probably a good idea, normally, so they don't shoot each other. But if someone was standing at one end of that line with a rifle in his hand...

Bam!

...it's not such a good idea.

The bullet went through the first man right into the second, and through him into the third, who was hurled straight into the last man standing. Rushing forward, Mr Ambrose lifted the butt of his rifle and brought it down onto the man's head.

Crack!

The sound echoed across the ocean. As it faded, I suddenly realized how quiet it had become.

I swallowed.

"Is...is it over?"

A moment later, my question was answered by an explosion of cheers. The pirates rushed forward, past the unmoving bodies of their foes, straight towards Mr Ambrose. Tensing, I tightened my grip around my pistol—then nearly dropped it when they lifted him up and hurled him into the air.

"Hip, hip, huzzah!"

"Hip, hip, huzzah!"

"Great work!"

"That's the stuff, lad!"

I clung to the ladder and watched as my husband and employer, Mr Rikkard Ambrose, the son of a noble lord and the most respectable businessman in all of Great Britain, was being carried on the shoulders of a bunch of pirates. Pirates who were cheering for him.

Hasn't my world gone crazy enough yet?

Right then, the first mate clapped his hands. "All right, all right! Calm down, boys! Everyone, put down the lad and grab the booty!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

"Not that booty! Let go of my arse, you bloody idiot!"

"Um...right away, Sir!"

"And send those redcoats to Davy Jones' locker!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

After that, things went rather fast. A quick check of our own ship revealed that the cannonball indeed had only grazed us. The damage was patched up, and a part of the crew was redirected to the other ship, which had now been commandeered as part of the pirate fleet.

Mr Ambrose was among those ordered to return to the original vessel. When he returned to the pirate ship, another cheer went up, and hands rained down on him from all directions, clapping his back and shoulders.

"Great job!"

"You got your sea legs fast, matey!"

"You, too, Freddie! Come on up!" Suddenly, I found myself tugged up onto the deck, and my back was assaulted by heavy slaps. A moment later, the wickedly grinning face of Jackal appeared in front of me. "Saw you take a pot shot at those bloody redcoats! Good one, Fatty!"