The Perla Negra kept her course for the Dane. Pelleggi’s command of navigation and seamanship was keeping her directly on a course to collide with the weakest spot on the Dane’s hull. For her part, the Dane lazily maneuvered to ram them, but was quite unaware of where to properly point her bow. It was obvious the Danish captain figured that any collision would sink the Castilian vessel.
In one sense, he was right. Clearly, the mass of the Dane would make long term survival impossible. However, Miguel found himself praying less for victory and more for extra precious seconds above the waves. Victory could be assured if they remained above the water, on fire, and ready to explode, for an extended period.
The first cracks of musket fire could be heard as Scalia’s marines opened fire. Their discipline ensured that the firepower of their muskets was not wasted. No, it was sapping the strength of the Danish crew surprisingly well, considering the dampness in the air. Even when Miguel heard the telling “click” of a failed report, the marines discipline did not allow them to curse. Instead, their frustration moved them to reload faster and more efficiently.
That’s it, Scalia! Good man, pouring on that fire. Even misses will keep the Danes heads down. And for every sailor hit by a musket ball, that’s one less pair of arms to put out a fire or untangle rigging. And what are you doing, Pelleggi? Oh, I see. Compensating for the Dane’s slight turn by pointing our bow a bit to starboard. That’s the spot you said you wanted to hit, and it looks like we will. Wait, I better grab a hold…
At first, the noise was little more than a scraping lurch. It was only after a moment that a truly hideous grinding sound came from the wood of both ship’s hulls. Everyone on board the Perla Negra, true sailors to a man, winced upon hearing it. No ship should ever make that sound. And, as many began to guess, the Perla Negra would never be witness to it again.
Some of the crew had fallen down, but Scalia’s yell got the attention of everyone as he charged, rapier in hand, to the Danish ship. It could only be described as a charge, though no cavalry were involved. While slower than the charge of a Castilian line of cavalry, it was a charge that deftly avoided ropes, powder, sails, and a few Danish gunners. He had not bothered to give any orders to follow, but his marines went with their trained instincts and followed him. In their wake, confusion swept across the Dane’s decks.
Must get up… Damn, my head hurts. What did I hit it on? Oh, never mind. What’s going on? Excellent. You truly have the upper hand, Scalia. And if nothing else, those gunners will never fire upon a Castilian ship again. But what of the damage? What of the damage?...
Miguel moved to see where contact with the Dane had been made. He spied a small hole, well above the water line, where their bow had rammed the Dane. For her part, the Perla Negra had no bow left in the traditional sense. Only a crumpled, wooden stump remained of the forecastle. And water could be seen trickling through the gaps in the wood.
No! Too much on us, and not enough on them. We’ll sink too fast…
A blast of heat and flame caused him to recoil. After a few moments, he moved in a position to look.
How… how did that happen? Wait, is that what I think it is? Praise the Lord, it is…
Tar and pitch had been lit and apparently mixed with a bit of powder to give it some extra incentive to burn in the moist air. But what drew Miguel’s attention was the burning tar, pouring through the small hole in the Dane’s hull. Castilian fire was spreading onto the lower decks of the Dane.
And with Scalia’s marines on their decks, they’ll never put it out in time. And what is this? Damn Pelleggi, you have managed to foul us horribly with the Dane. Were this in any other circumstances, I would have you flogged for such a fouling of our rigging and theirs. But if I’m right, we won’t need anything except our own sails and rope to bind us to them. No, she’s not getting away. Not this time.
The whistle and impact of shot around his ship caused Miguel to turn around. The Carro del Sol was firing at both of their ships, as per her orders. Damage was being given out equally to Dane and Castilian alike.
Getting closer, are you? Why would you be doing that? Unless… Yes, you are aren’t you? Going to give the Dane a dose of double shot. Well, it certainly can’t hurt. Just don’t fire at the rigging, whatever you do. Jesus, and could you stop firing all your guns at once? You’re hitting us too much.
There was no way to use the signal flags to communicate this in any detail, and so the almirante just stood silently, trying to avoid the fire of his own fleet.
And it’s only now that they get a chance to shoot at me without any punishment. Irony, gentlemen. A pity you are too busy to appreciate it.
Still, the fire was spreading slowly on the Danish ship. Very slowly.
