Pirate Wolf Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

Nor should he if this
was, indeed, the infamous privateering vessel that had—if the
reports they heard were to be believed—sailed right into the harbor
at Vera Cruz, only the most heavily fortified stronghold in the
Spanish Main, and looted hundreds of thousands of ducats’ worth of
King Philip’s gold right out of the royal treasure
house.
    A second spin
had Spence staring up the topmast at the ragged flags that still
hung limp against a windless sky.
    “It wasn’t a
stag or a goat, ye block-brain,” he hissed at McCutcheon. “‘Twas a
wolfhound. A crimson wolfhound an’ a blue fleur-de-lis on a black
field: the arms o’ Simon Dante, Comte de Tourville.”
    Even Beau
was markedly impressed as she stared, along with the other members
of their boarding party, at the saturnine features of Dante de
Tourville. The Spanish called him pirata lobo —the pirate wolf—because of his cunning and
prowess at stalking and cutting the richest ships out of the plate
fleet. The English called him a rake and a hero, often whispering
his name louder than those who sailed in the company of the vaunted
sea hawks Sir Francis Drake, John Hawkyns, and Martin Frobisher. It
was also rumored that while the Queen called him “that bloody
Frenchman” in public, in the privacy of her chambers she called him
something very different indeed. A genuine titled nobleman, he was
French by birth, half English by blood, and reputed to be all
larceny by nature.
    Which was
possibly why Beau felt some vague uneasiness at the way he
continued to hang back in the shadows. Certainly, if he had been
hunted and attacked by the Spanish he had every right to be
cautious, even wary of strangers boarding his ship. But once those
strangers had identified themselves as allies, should he not have
regarded them with more friendship than animosity? After all, his
ship was sinking. The horizon, now that the morning fog had
completely burned away, was clear in all directions, meaning
the Egret was their
only means of salvation unless they all intended to go down with
their ship.
    As if on
cue, the Virago gave a
deep-bellied groan and took a noticeable swoop to starboard.
Something in her holds must have given way, for there was the sound
of cracking timbers and water rushing through a breach in the hull,
and she took a moment to steady herself as her weight settled
again.
    “ We took
the men off the pumps,” Pitt explained, looking worriedly toward
the bulkhead. “We were not entirely sure what we would be facing when you rowed over. Perhaps we
should put them back?”
    A nod from
Dante sent a dozen men scrambling below and brought Spence’s fiery
red eyebrows crushing together again.
    “Ye can’t be
thinkin’ ye can keep her afloat much longer? The first ripe gust o’
wind will push her over.”
    “Hopefully, we
can buy a little time,” Pitt said, then abruptly changed the
subject. “Your guns, Captain Spence. They appear to be eighteen
pounders.”
    “Aye,” he said
slowly. “Culverins. The rest are fivers— sakers an’ minions.”
    “ An odd
question to ask when your ship is sinking,” Beau murmured out of
the side of her mouth. McCutcheon, to whom the comment was
directed, only frowned and whished her to silence.
    “And your
holds—full or empty?” Pitt forestalled the objection to such a
prying question by raising his hand. “I ask only in order to
determine if your ship can bear any more weight. Several tons’
worth, to be exact.”
    “ Several
tons?” Spence’s startled gaze went from Pitt to Dante. “So it
wasn’t just a tall tale. Ye really did it? Ye really raided the
treasure depot at Vera Cruz?”
    “Aye, we did
it,” said the Comte de Tourville, emerging into the harsher light
for the first time. His hair gleamed blue-black under the sun and
there were fat slicks of moisture streaking his temples and throat,
sure signs he was suffering from more than just a parched throat
and an empty belly. The cause of his discomfort