LANCASTER

An impenetrable black plume of smoke lifted from the center of Ranger’s deck into the clear morning sky. The pirate sloop had come to rest in a yawning inlet carved in the center of an island shaped like a horseshoe. The lake sat just beyond a long narrow channel that was flanked by treacherous rocky hills sloping in a steep, uneven V into the water. Apart from a white beach that lined the outer rim, and a few scattered coconut trees, the island was mostly barren rock.

James Lancaster surmised his wounded prey from the quarterdeck of HMS Advance, the tails of his standard issue blue coat flapping in the wind. He lifted his tricorn hat long enough to adjust the stubborn white wig beneath it, and then fitted the hat back in place. The curled locks were heavy with sweat, nudging his powdered cheeks every time he turned his head. The sun was particularly merciless today, especially for early February, and it was only three hours after dawn. Continue reading →