To Live By the Sword

By Matthew Pizzolato

Thick clouds of black smoke erupted from the cannons and obscured the sky.  I was in a sea battle with the pirate ship of Nick Corvino, the Black Bird.  His ship was a square-rigged English galleon that was much more maneuverable than my own Kimberly, which was a three-masted carrack.  The Black Bird was also better armed with 36 guns to our 18.

"Fire!" I shouted, giving the order for a broadside at the Black Bird. 

I watched as several of our shots struck the Black Bird.  My crew gave a rousing cheer.  But seemingly undaunted, the Black Bird edged closer.  A sudden chill of fear stabbed my heart when I saw that he was maneuvering to windward to rake us with a fusillade.

My name is Murdoc MacQuaid and I was bound for the New World with a cargo of trade goods.  The furs that I would receive as trade from the savages would bring a fortune in Europe.
 
A sudden gust of wind began wafting away some of the powder smoke.  I glanced to windward saw black clouds on the horizon.  A storm was coming.  This was hurricane season.

Cannon exploded from the Black Bird and the balls thudded into my ship.  The main mast exploded into deadly splinters, killing several crewmen and wounding others.  A man trapped under the mast screamed in mortal agony. 

Ignoring a hail of musket fire, I leaped to the broken mast and push against it.  I aimed to free the trapped man.  "Look lively over here!" I yelled.  "Give me a hand!"

Several men came to my aid and the trapped man was freed.  "Carpenter's Mate-rig another mast!"
 
The Kimberly began turning a slow circle and listed to starboard as she dragged the mast.  I slashed the rigging that held the mast to the ship with my sword and it slowly slid overboard.

Corvino had been a lifelong enemy of my father and thus my enemy as well.  Both my father and Corvino had commanded ships under Sir Francis Drake when the English repulsed the Spanish Armada.  The source of their hatred for each other had come from my mother, Kimberly Anne Baker.  She chose my father over Corvino and Corvino swore he would send my father to Davy Jones' locker. 

The Black Bird sailed closer.  Corvino was going to rake us.  Raking fire meant that he was going to fire a broadside from his ship directly at either the bow or the stern of the Kimberly.  He was maneuvering for a stern shot.

I could see Corvino standing on the deck of the Black Bird.  He was close enough that I could see the scar on his face that my father had put there before Corvino killed him.  I had been twelve years old at the time.  My father had been considered an excellent swordsman, but Corvino handled him easily.  The fight had been a properly challenged duel, so I had been forced to stand and watch. 

I never forgot that day and I felt my anger rising as I stared at Corvino.  He smiled and gave the order to fire.  The balls struck and the Kimberly veered suddenly off course.  I knew that the rudder had been smashed.

Huge raindrops began to fall and the wind picked up.  Corvino looked at the sky for what must have been the first time because an expression of surprise crossed his face.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "I hope you know how to swim!"

He laughed and turned to give orders to his crew.  I watched helplessly as the Black Bird turned into the wind and the sails filled.  She coasted ahead of the storm and back out to sea.

The waves began to rise.  I stood with my legs apart to take the roll of the ship.  The sky was covered in thick black clouds and although it was the middle of the afternoon there was very little light.

The carpenters were busy below decks repairing the damage. 

"Make ready the boats," I shouted, to be heard above the wind.

The Kimberly carried three boats, two were cutters, and the third was a pinnace.  All three boats had a mast and could be either sailed or rowed.  The pinnace was the largest at 28 feet long and the two cutters were 18 feet long.  I wanted them ready and loaded with supplies in case we had to abandon ship.

The storm hit with a sudden howling of the wind and I had to grab a section of railing to keep from being blown overboard.  And just as suddenly, the wind died and a heavy rain begin to fall.

I paced the deck and worried.  That damned Corvino.  He was the scourge of my life.  I'd give anything spit him on the point of my sword. 

Ever since Corvino had killed my father, I'd sought out the best swordsmen in Europe for training.  I'd been apprenticed to several and had even learned a little of the Moorish style of fencing that few in Europe knew.

My first mate, Dennis Berryman, approached me, "Cap'n MacQuaid, we've rigged a makeshift rudder that will get us to a harbor somewhere, but we'll need another before we return to England."

"All right, keep an eye on things, Dennis," I said.  "I'm going to my cabin for awhile."

"Yes sir," he replied.

I went down to my cabin and changed out of my wet clothes.  I dug maps of the coastline out of my footlocker and studied them intently.  I twirled my mustache.

A knocking on the door aroused me.  "Cap'n, the storm's broke.  We sighted a small cove up ahead," someone said through the door.  "It's stopped raining."

"All right, I'll be on deck in a minute."

I heard footsteps retreating.  I got off my bunk and picked up my sword from the table where I had been sharpening it before the battle had begun.

I strapped it around my waist and left my cabin.

Once on deck, I had to shade my eyes.  The sun was setting on the horizon and it was glaringly bright.

I stopped next to Dennis.   "Send a boat first.  You never know who might be there."

"I already did.  Look."  He shaded in eyes and started into the sun.  "They're coming back and fast, too.  Something's wrong."

The pinnace arrived back at the ship and a man climbed up.

"What's the matter, Travis?" I asked of him.

"The Black Bird's there, Cap'n."  He paused to wipe sweat from his forehead.  "There didn't seem to be many aboard."

"Maybe they're taking on fresh water," Dennis said.

"Maybe," I said.  I twirled my mustache for a second.  Then an idea struck me.  "Lower all the boats and put a carronade on each."

"Surely you're not going to attack them with the boats when we can use the ship," Dennis said.

"It doesn't make any difference if we use the ship or the boats.  They have us outgunned two to one.  If we don't take them by surprise, then we won't take them at all.  Besides there's less chance of them spotting the boats."

"But Cap'n…" Dennis started to protest, but I interrupted him.

"Leave enough men on board to sail the ship.  You stay also Dennis.  I want someone I can trust in command."

"But…"

"That's an order."

"Yes sir."

I climbed down into the pinnace and the two cutters were lowered.  With sixty men divided between the three boats and with the pinnace in the lead, we rounded the point into the harbor.

I stood in the front of the pinnace, my sword drawn.  There was no sound from the Black Bird.  The ship loomed before us; its black sails fluttering in the breeze.

As we drew near, several men made ready grappling hooks.  I picked one up and threw it.  It hooked over the railing.   I tugged to make sure it would hold.  Then I sheathed my sword and went up the rope hand over hand.

I sprang on deck and drew my sword.  Several men had been looking over the far side of the ship toward the shore.  They turned.

"Hey," one of them cried and then they all rushed toward me.
 
More of my men came over the rail behind me.  I clashed swords with the nearest man and then ran him through.  I shoved him off my blade and met the next one.  I dispatched him in similar fashion and looked around. 

By now all of my men had come aboard and spread out.  They quickly secured the ship.  The Black Bird was mine. 

Corvino had left only twelve men on the ship.  According to one of the survivors, he had gone ashore for fresh water and taken most of the crew as a precaution in case the savages attacked him. 

There were four boats beached on the shoreline.

"Line up all the starboard guns on the boats on the shore," I said.  "Be ready to fire on my command."  My men hurried to obey.  A few minutes passed in relative silence.
 
"Cap'n, here they come," Travis whispered to me.

I stepped up to the railing of the ship where I could be seen.  "Corvino," I said, "I've taken your ship."

"What!" he screamed.

"Fire one," I said.  

Travis lit the fuse.  The cannon fired over their heads.  The men froze in place.

"Corvino, I'm giving you the choice of coming on board alone, to fight me.  If you do, I'll let your men go.  Or all of you can die where you stand.  There are 17 guns lined up on you and at this range I don't think any of you will survive."

"Fight him, man.  For God's sake, fight him," I heard several of his crew saying to Corvino.

"You'd fight me?" he called.

"To the death," I said.

"Aye, to the death it will be.  Your death," he said.  "I'll kill you the same way I did your father."

I ground my teeth.  "Then what are you waiting for, coward!"

He climbed into one of the boats with several men to row and shoved off.

My pulse raced when he climbed onto the deck.  Here was the man I'd spent my entire adult life hating; the man who had killed my father and had taken away my childhood.

He drew his sword.  "This is the same blade that killed your father, boy," he said.  "Now it will kill you."

"Say what you will, this is your last day on earth."

He laughed and started forward.  I parried his thrust and nicked his arm. 

He stepped back.  "So, you've had training, have you?  This may take longer than I thought."

We went at it again for several minutes with neither of us able to gain an advantage.  He was beginning to sweat.

I smiled at him.  "You're getting old.  Are you prepared to die?" I asked.

"Insolent whelp," he said and lunged.

I parried and stepped back but not soon enough.  The point of his blade drew a bloody line across my stomach.  A fraction of an inch deeper and he would have disemboweled me.

He lunged at me again.  This time I parried his blade using one of my Moorish tricks and nicked his face.  He put a hand to it and stepped back.  I pressed my advantage.  I caught him off guard and nearly had him, but he escaped.

Old he might be, but he was still a superb swordsman.  Our blades clashed again. This time, I lunged forward and fell to one knee, my blade rising.  The point of my blade took him in his throat and slid upward into his skull.  He fell to the deck.  I let out a deep breath.

Nick Corvino was dead; my father's death was repaid.  I withdrew my sword slowly.

It was almost completely dark now.  I was the master of two ships, both of them loaded with cargo and I'd done it with my sword.

Travis approached.  "Cap'n, Corvino's crew agreed to serve under you.  They claimed none of them liked him anyway."

"All right, we'll stay here until the Kimberly's repaired.  After we've done our trading, we'll set sail for England," I said.

"Aye, Aye, Cap'n," Travis said and walked away.

I smiled at my good fortune.  Living by the sword was a chancy thing, but sometimes it paid off.

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Matthew Pizzolato is a graduate of Long Ridge Writing School.  He has completed a short story writing course as well as a novel writing course.  He has had a poem published in the anthology Letters from the Soul.  He writes westerns and historical fiction and is currently working on a novel.