In a flash of insight, she recognized the sound. She’d heard it, seen the truth in her scrying mirror.
Mercy grabbed the cutlass lying next to a fallen sailor. Brandishing it, she shoved her way to the gunwale. She tucked the cutlass into her belt alongside the dagger, wrapped her arms and legs around one of the ropes tied to a grappling hook in the rigging, and slid down it to the deck of the attacking ship. The invaders didn’t try to stop her. They were all hell bent on saving their own skins. If some fool wanted to come aboard a sinking ship and go down with the pirate flag, well, that was his business.
Following the sound, Mercy made her way through a haze of smoke that covered the damaged vessel from the Queen Anne’s cannon fire to the hatch covering the hold. Built with a framework of crisscrossed boards, the design allowed for openings in between them where a bit of light and air could get through.
Peering down, her worst fears were realized. No angels there – only a dozen female prisoners. The ship must belong to one of the rumored traders in human cargo, taking women captive to sell them in the white slave markets of the Middle East.
The brave souls held hands while they sang their hymns, putting their lives into God’s hands as the water rose around them.
Her eyes met those of one of the prisoners. “Please, don’t let us drown, sir! For the love of God, help us!” the woman pleaded.
“Hang, on! I’ll get you out.”
Mercy yanked with all her strength. The hold was securely latched, and she couldn’t open the lock. Pulling the cutlass out of her belt, she tried to pry off the lock but only succeeded in snapping off the tip of the blade. She beat on it with the handle of the cutlass but quickly realized her efforts were fruitless. Frantic, she scanned the area around her.
Spying a sturdy belaying pin in the bulwark, Mercy snatched it up then ran back and shoved it into a crack where one of the boards had been hammered in. With a strength born of desperation, she bore down on the other end, using it as a lever. It seemed to take forever, but she managed to pry off one board.
Seeing her efforts, the women abandoned their hymn and began beseeching the Lord to give their rescuer strength. Silently, Mercy joined their prayers as she yanked another board off.
The water in the hold was rising swiftly around them. Mercy realized the trapped women wouldn’t survive much longer, and neither would she. Frantically, she tackled the next board, tossing it aside.
She’d made a narrow opening, but it would have to do. Throwing herself flat on the deck, Mercy reached down into the darkness with both hands, grabbing the outstretched wrists of the nearest woman. Pulling with all her might and helped by the captives below, she heaved the woman up and out, then leaned down to grasp the hands of the next.
She worked feverishly, yanking on arms and cloth and hair if need be. As the women were dragged onto the deck, they fell to their knees, dazed by the noise and confusion around them.
The water had nearly filled the hold and Mercy knew they had very little time. She reached down for the final prisoner, but the woman was hardly taller than a child and couldn’t reach her outstretched hands. With no one left in the hold to boost her up, the last captive was doomed.
Mercy looked down into her eyes and saw in them the moment the young woman realized her fate was sealed.
“Nooo!” Mercy screamed. “I won’t leave you to die!” She levered her body farther into the hold, seeking something, anything, she could grab onto to climb down.
Suddenly, her body was shoved out of the way. A huge figure all but dived into the hold.
Supporting himself with one hand clenching the splintered boards of the hatch, James crammed his upper body into the opening and wrapped his fingers around the delicate wrist straining to reach him. With a swift jerk, he heaved her out. Grabbing Mercy with the other hand, he half-dragged, half-carried both of them to the gunwale as water sloshed over the deck.
It seemed as if only moments had passed since she first heard the faint strains of the hymn. Mercy was stunned to see that while she was pulling the captive women to safety, the crew of the Queen Anne had overcome their attackers and hoisted the other women off the deck of the sinking ship.
James grabbed a stout rope dangling from one of the grappling hooks tangled in his rigging and tied it around the waist of the young girl. He gave a shout to his men, and they pulled her, hand over hand, up to the gunwale and over the side.
He caught the lifeline Sprague tossed him in one hand and wrapped his other arm around Mercy. “Hang on to my neck,” he ordered.
With a powerful lunge, James jumped clear as the roiling seas closed over the deck.
Clinging tightly to his neck, Mercy was dragged underwater along with the captain as the ocean sucked the slave ship down. Holding her breath, she thought her lungs would burst as he fought to escape the undertow.
Spluttering and gasping, they broke the surface. With the rope gripped tight in his fist, James swam one-handed to the Queen Anne’s hull. When they got near enough, she let go of his neck and grabbed hold of the longboat rigging. Treading water, he fastened the rope securely around her middle and shouted for his men to hoist her on board. Only when he was assured she was within reach of Mr. Sprague leaning over the gunwale did he grasp the other rope a deckhand tossed him and begin hauling himself hand over hand up to the deck.
The bewildered captives huddled by the gun rail, near the spot where Mercy had taken refuge from the storm. After assuring Sprague she hadn’t been injured, she went to comfort them. The women all crowded around, tearfully embracing her and thanking her for saving their lives.
The Queen Anne’s crew seemed mesmerized by Mercy’s transformation from saintly nun to savior in swashbuckler’s garb. They backed away from the women as the captain approached.
“James!” Her eyes lit up. “Ladies, this is Captain Teach. You will be safe with him. Unlike the commander of the ship you were on, he is an honorable man. If not for his heroic efforts, your number would forever be reduced by one.”
“Bless you, kind sir! Bless you.” The young woman he’d saved ran up and clutched James around the waist in a fierce embrace, laughing and crying at the same time.
Mercy smiled fondly at the girl then looked up to meet James’s eyes.
To her astonishment, he stared back coldly, with none of the warmth and ardor that had been in his gaze just a few hours earlier.