“Hard turn, starboard side!” shouted the pilot and navigator of the Hare’s Breath in warning. He spun the helm firmly and quickly, and the ship jerked to the right, causing several crew members to stumble.

Moments later, a series of booming shots, five in quick succession, could be heard, followed by a kind of deep whistling that grew louder before punctuating with sudden splashes in the sea behind them.

The first round of cannon fire had missed! But there would be more.

Ballast leapt unto the deck from the rowboat and rushed toward Captain Springer, who was near the helm.“Captain, what’s happening!? Who is the enemy firing on us!?”

“I wish I knew,” she said, regarding him through opaque lenses. “It seems the return flare alerted them to our presence. They appeared shortly after I made it on board, from where I don’t know.”

“And they made no declarations?”

“None. But I sensed ill intent the moment I saw them. That’s when we set sail to retrieve you.” The captain often spoke like that, casting immediate judgments of unfamiliar individuals or situations. Her hunches were always right.

Somebody shouted, “They’re preparing the next volley!”

The combat movements of the enemy ship and evasive maneuvers of the Hare’s Breath had temporarily left the two ships sailing in opposite directions, which helped widen the distance between them. But the enemy adjusted its direction again, showing its broad side.

“Hard turn, starboard!” warned the pilot again.

Ballast and Captain Springer braced themselves against the closest deck wall as the ship jerked hard.

This time the cannonballs landed beyond the ship, sending columns of water high into the air.

The two ships had now completed a half circle, with the Hare’s Breath pointed back toward the island from where it came and the enemy ship between them and Curvata Appa.

The master gunner hurried toward Ballast and Captain Springer. “Captain, shall we return fire?”

“Not yet. We are outgunned...but I am not convinced that we are outwitted.” Emery Springer maintained a calm demeanor under pressure. “Waylen,” she said, turning to the pilot, “retreat to the island. We will use it to shield ourselves from their fire.”

The bearded pilot nodded. “Yes, captain.”

“And Felix,” she said, back to the master gunner, “Take two men and stand at the ready. If they want to come after us, we will surprise them and knock out their guns.”

“Right away, captain.” Felix left them, disappearing below decks with two men as instructed. By title he was the only gunner on the crew, though he did teach the basics to others. “Just in case,” he would say.

The cannon fire paused, if only for the moment. The Hare’s Breath had further increased the distance between them, and the enemy ship responded by reorienting and giving chase again.

Ballast, having gained his bearings of the situation, shouted orders to the deckhands. “Adjust the sails to maximize speed! And be alert for the next volley!”

He looked out at the pursuing ship. It was too far away at the moment to make out the figures on deck with the naked eye. With its darker wood it looked like an encroaching shadow threatening to engulf them.

Ballast halted a nearby deckhand. It was Wills, one of the new recruits who had joined him on the island survey. “I have a job for you. Climb to the crow’s nest with a spyglass and see if you can discern anything about the enemy.”

Wills nodded nervously before hurrying off. He was clearly rattled by their situation. Survey ships encountered some dangers, sure, but one did not join expecting to see battle. In fact, many joined survey ships to avoid battle.

Ballast returned to the captain. “I brought a dead body aboard.”

The captain smirked. “Let’s hope it will be the only one this ship sees today.”

The Hare’s Breath was approaching the southern portion of the island and would soon gain cover, however short-lived, behind the curving coast. The enemy, perhaps realizing this, turned to unleash another volley.

“Incoming!” A few men shouted.

Their options were limited by the shallow waters of the island’s shore on their starboard side. “Hard turn! Port!” Waylen shouted.

He turned the wheel just as the latest round of booming shots rang out. These were the closest ones yet! The cannonballs struck the water just barely beyond them, causing the ship to rock and waves to crash down on the deck.

Crew members scrambled back to their feet. A knocking sound could be heard coming from above, followed by a SNAP! They had been hit after all! The top half of the foremast collapsed starboard side, taking the foresail and its rigging with it.

“Quick! Cut the ropes!” Ballast shouted as he sprinted to the closest one attached to the broken mast. He unsheathed the dagger from inside his jacket and sliced the rope, then looked for the next. Others followed suit.

The ship struggled along as the broken mast teetered on the starboard bow, slowing its progress and upsetting its mobility.

When nearly all the ropes were cut, the last one remaining, taut above their heads, frayed under the pressure before tearing apart. The broken mast leaned further on the bow’s edge before sliding down and off the ship completely.

“Man down!” someone shouted.

Ballast looked and saw a crumpled body on the deck. It was Wills. He must have been tossed from the crow’s nest when the mast collapsed. He was unconscious, and blood was spurting out from a wound on the side of his head.

Ballast felt a pang of guilt. “Hurry and take him to the doctor’s quarters!” he ordered. He wished he could take the young man himself, but he was needed on deck.

Two others rushed to carry him below decks to the doctor.

The speed of the Hare’s Breath was slowed dramatically by the loss of the foresail, but it still managed to curl around the tip of the island before the enemy ship managed another attack. They were out of line of sight. But with the broken mast, they would no longer be able to outrun their pursuers.

“Waylen, situate the ship to fire on the enemy when they reappear. And you,” Captain Springer said to a nearby deckhand, “tell Felix to open fire as soon as he has a shot.”

They had no choice but to turn and fight now.

Ballast busied himself with some others, adjusting the rigging on the remaining sails to compensate for the lost one, pulling the ropes and tying new knots. He caught himself holding his breath and exhaled deeply. He was unafraid but anxious for what would come next. Seconds felt like hours as he and the others waited.

Then the enemy ship emerged from behind the coastline. And no sooner had it appeared than the Hare’s Breath shuddered with a single cannon blast.

The shot missed! Too far and to the right!

Time slowed again, as the crew braced themselves. The Hare’s Breath was barely moving now, making it an easy target. One whispered a prayer. Another closed his eyes. Captain Springer stood stoically near the helm.

BWOOM! A blast reverberated throughout the ship, followed closely by a KRAK…

...off in the distance.

Ballast watched as a hole was punched into the hull of the enemy ship, in line with where he had seen the gun ports earlier. Felix must have been firing the cannons individually to allow for adjustments.

Their third and final cannon shook the ship, ripping another hole in the enemy’s hull. Debris fell from the two new cavities in the opposing craft and into the water below.

The crew of the Hare’s Breath waited for return fire. The fine shooting by Felix and the others must have knocked out at least two of the opposing guns, more if they were lucky. At worst case the two crafts were now equal in firepower, though their own cannons would need to be reloaded.

They continued to wait, but the return fire did not come. The enemy ship began turning away, shrinking back behind the coast. The crew exclaimed in relief and triumph as they watched it disappear.

Captain Springer allowed the crew some time to calm their nerves and bask in the victory of their impromptu battle before addressing them all. “I’m happy as you are.” She paused. “But we know nothing about that ship or its crew. We need to stay vigilant in case they return. Someone must stand watch,” she gestured to the crow’s nest on the main mast, “until we can complete repairs and return to Curvata Appa.”

The crew heeded the captain’s warning, slowly returning to their duties, but not without grins and some playful banter. They needed to release the tension that had built up over the course of the battle somehow.

“And when we return, the first round of ale is on me!” she added.

The crew cheered.

Turning to Ballast, the captain said, “Good work. You reacted quickly when the foremast ruptured. We might not have made it to cover if you hadn’t.”

“I didn’t feel like rowing back to the island,” he joked. He did not know how to take compliments. Most of his past superiors hadn’t given them.

Captain Springer smiled. “I’m going below decks to congratulate Felix as well. He may have saved us all. Please see to the crew and supervise the start to the repairs.” She rested her arm on his shoulder for a moment before walking past him toward the steps.

Ballast allowed himself a few minutes respite after she left. He was drained. He had not eaten since their initial departure this morning, though it was more fatigue than hunger that he felt. Still, that did not stop his mind from working. The captain was right—their encounter with the enemy craft revealed precious little but left them with many questions.

Who were they? Why did they attack the Hare’s Breath? What would they do now that they had been rebuffed?

Wills. Perhaps he saw something before the foremast collapsed, some clue regarding the identity of that ship.

Provided the injury he sustained was not too serious. Ballast scolded himself. He should be more concerned with Wills’ well being than what he may or may not have seen. It was Ballast’s own order that put the young man at risk after all. Ballast would be sure to check on him before retiring for the night.

But first, the repairs. Ballast met with several deckhands, doling out responsibilities for the evening and following morning. He always kept ample maintenance and repair supplies on board. “Taking up precious space in the cargo hold,” First Mate Mannix often complained to him. Of course he wasn’t here now to see how invaluable those supplies would prove.

After handing out orders and answering questions, Ballast remembered the poor soul whose rowboat he confiscated. He should bring the body to the doctor. He moved in the direction of the rowboat only to discover the metal cleats to which it had been fastened baring cut ropes. Had the broken mast cleaved them when it fell? Or might an unwitting deckhand had cut them in error when trying to free the mast from its rigging?

Ballast rushed to the ship’s rail in search of the rowboat. He scanned the nearby waters in hopes of recovering the boat—and body. The Sun was beginning to set on the western horizon but still shed plenty of light to aid his search. There it was! Halfway between the Hare’s Breath and the southern tip of the island. Were the waves bringing it closer?

Ballast retrieved a spyglass from the pilot, Waylen, and looked again. The rowboat was indeed growing nearer, but it wasn’t waves bringing it back. Through the glass Ballast could see a lone figure, upright, rowing toward them.