Read Online Call of the Sea by Rebecca Hart - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rebecca Hart
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the nervous energy surging through her body.
Nelson drew his sword and ran toward her. When he reached the stairs where she hunkered, he turned away, climbed the steps two at a time, and rushed out on deck.
Ellie scrambled up the treads after him, stopping short of bursting through the gangway into the growing fray.
Grapples tangled in the rigging. Musket and blunderbuss shots sang through the air in both directions. Shouting men swung across the space between the vessels. The sound of steel on steel rang out.
Awestruck, Ellie watched as a Dutchman rushed Nelson, sword raised. With a calm deliberateness, Nelson pulled the flintlock from his belt, cocked it, and fired.
The sailor’s eyes widened as his chest exploded with crimson. He staggered backward two steps and dropped to the planking.
Sword at the ready, Nelson twisted and faced another.
The man swung his blade, but Nelson was ready for it. He deftly sidestepped and slashed back, nicking the Dutchman’s waist.
The two men circled each other, panting. Each sought an opening in the other’s defenses.
Ellie held her breath, wide eyes locked on her only friend.
In a surge of motion, Nelson lunged at his adversary, driving his sword deep into the man’s stomach. Gurgling noises rushed past the man’s lips as his sword fell to the deck with a clang.
When Nelson pulled his sword free from the dying man, Ellie saw a second Dutchman approach. He raised his pistol, taking aim at Nelson’s back.
“Nelson! Look out,” she shouted.
The gun fired.
The shot pierced Nelson’s shoulder, spinning him around to face Ellie. His brown eyes widened as he clutched a hand to the cherry-red stain growing on the front of his shirt. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the shooter drew his sword and swiped at him.
Grunting, Nelson raised his sword, barely blocking the blow.
A red haze surrounded Ellie as a cry of rage ripped past her lips. Drawing her cutlass, she scrambled up the steps toward Nelson. Ellie slashed wildly at any who stepped in her path, cutting a desperate swathe through the enemy.
Step. Duck, swipe.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
Nelson dropped to his knees. Blood ran down his arm from the gaping wound in his shoulder, shirt soaked with his lifeblood.
“No!” Ellie’s stomach twisted into a knot when his head sagged forward.
Dodge, spin, stab.
The Dutchman turned as Ellie rushed at him. He raised his sword to fend off the crushing intent of her blow, spun, and swiped his blade at her knees.
She lunged left. With a twist, she came around, her cutlass aimed at the man’s chest.
Metal clashed, the Dutchman blocking the blow. His chest heaved and sweat dotted his wide brow.
Breath coming in short gasps, ears humming with rage, Ellie sidestepped right and advanced again.
Slash.
Her blade cleaved flesh. A satisfied smile bowed her lips. Taking advantage of her good fortune, Ellie spun around, sword at her shoulders. She swung her arm outward, pivoting on her toe. The blade sang through the air, cutting the man open across the throat.
His steps faltered and a shadow slipped across his features. He opened pale lips, tried to speak, but only gurgled. The man’s eyes bulged as blood sprayed from the opening in his neck and he shrank to a lifeless heap at her feet.
Ellie swung about, sword at the ready. Perspiration soaked her temples and each deep gasp for air strained the tight bindings wound around her chest. It took her a moment to realize the fighting around her had ceased.
The bloodied bodies of friend and foe littered the blood-slicked decking. Gorgon, massive as always, stood guard over a handful of captured Dutchmen near the mainmast. Captain Harris ordered the boarding planks put out.
Ellie sheathed her weapon, rushed to Nelson’s side and dropped to her knees. Pain contorted his face as she helped him sit up. She grabbed his bloodied, tattered shirt in both hands and pulled, tearing it in two at the neck. She inspected
Nelson drew his sword and ran toward her. When he reached the stairs where she hunkered, he turned away, climbed the steps two at a time, and rushed out on deck.
Ellie scrambled up the treads after him, stopping short of bursting through the gangway into the growing fray.
Grapples tangled in the rigging. Musket and blunderbuss shots sang through the air in both directions. Shouting men swung across the space between the vessels. The sound of steel on steel rang out.
Awestruck, Ellie watched as a Dutchman rushed Nelson, sword raised. With a calm deliberateness, Nelson pulled the flintlock from his belt, cocked it, and fired.
The sailor’s eyes widened as his chest exploded with crimson. He staggered backward two steps and dropped to the planking.
Sword at the ready, Nelson twisted and faced another.
The man swung his blade, but Nelson was ready for it. He deftly sidestepped and slashed back, nicking the Dutchman’s waist.
The two men circled each other, panting. Each sought an opening in the other’s defenses.
Ellie held her breath, wide eyes locked on her only friend.
In a surge of motion, Nelson lunged at his adversary, driving his sword deep into the man’s stomach. Gurgling noises rushed past the man’s lips as his sword fell to the deck with a clang.
When Nelson pulled his sword free from the dying man, Ellie saw a second Dutchman approach. He raised his pistol, taking aim at Nelson’s back.
“Nelson! Look out,” she shouted.
The gun fired.
The shot pierced Nelson’s shoulder, spinning him around to face Ellie. His brown eyes widened as he clutched a hand to the cherry-red stain growing on the front of his shirt. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the shooter drew his sword and swiped at him.
Grunting, Nelson raised his sword, barely blocking the blow.
A red haze surrounded Ellie as a cry of rage ripped past her lips. Drawing her cutlass, she scrambled up the steps toward Nelson. Ellie slashed wildly at any who stepped in her path, cutting a desperate swathe through the enemy.
Step. Duck, swipe.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
Nelson dropped to his knees. Blood ran down his arm from the gaping wound in his shoulder, shirt soaked with his lifeblood.
“No!” Ellie’s stomach twisted into a knot when his head sagged forward.
Dodge, spin, stab.
The Dutchman turned as Ellie rushed at him. He raised his sword to fend off the crushing intent of her blow, spun, and swiped his blade at her knees.
She lunged left. With a twist, she came around, her cutlass aimed at the man’s chest.
Metal clashed, the Dutchman blocking the blow. His chest heaved and sweat dotted his wide brow.
Breath coming in short gasps, ears humming with rage, Ellie sidestepped right and advanced again.
Slash.
Her blade cleaved flesh. A satisfied smile bowed her lips. Taking advantage of her good fortune, Ellie spun around, sword at her shoulders. She swung her arm outward, pivoting on her toe. The blade sang through the air, cutting the man open across the throat.
His steps faltered and a shadow slipped across his features. He opened pale lips, tried to speak, but only gurgled. The man’s eyes bulged as blood sprayed from the opening in his neck and he shrank to a lifeless heap at her feet.
Ellie swung about, sword at the ready. Perspiration soaked her temples and each deep gasp for air strained the tight bindings wound around her chest. It took her a moment to realize the fighting around her had ceased.
The bloodied bodies of friend and foe littered the blood-slicked decking. Gorgon, massive as always, stood guard over a handful of captured Dutchmen near the mainmast. Captain Harris ordered the boarding planks put out.
Ellie sheathed her weapon, rushed to Nelson’s side and dropped to her knees. Pain contorted his face as she helped him sit up. She grabbed his bloodied, tattered shirt in both hands and pulled, tearing it in two at the neck. She inspected
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