"If I'm forced into the Royal Navy I will never forgive you," James muttered as they neared the harbor outside New York City. Miles estimated it was the hundredth time he had heard the warning from his brother since they had departed Dunnstown two days prior.

"I know," Miles assured him.

They had sailed as quickly as they were able to with the smallest possible crew to man the Wing schooner. It was James's crew, and James was happy to learn none of them wanted to abandon fishing for privateering. James had a way of building crews of men not set on adventure and excitement. Those who wanted excitement were usually the ones who went to Miles and the other whalers. A touch of adventure was a part of whaling, but not often a part of cod fishing. Miles had never had the intention to take his brother's crew and was quite happy not to encourage them to change their vocation. 

There were two ships that were quite clearly warships in the harbor of New York. In the darkness of the evening it was difficult to determine which one was the Spar, but he hoped it was the one easiest to flee the harbor with. He hailed the first ship at the same moment it took notice of the schooner.

"I won't forgive you if you get us killed, either," James muttered.

"Rightfully so," Miles replied. In truth, he was concerned himself that his plan may prove too daring. Tempting a Royal Navy crew into mutiny was never to be a simple matter, if he could accomplish it at all.

When the ships were close enough, someone shouted from the navy ship, "State your business!"

Miles still wasn't certain if he'd found the correct ship, though it was certainly a frigate. "Tell me, is this the Spar?" he called back.

"What business is it of yours?"

"If it is, I have an urgent message for Lieutenant Asher Sands, from his cousin on Nantucket Island. I was told I would find him on the Spar and that the ship had been seen in New York."

"News does travel far and fast." This time the voice was familiar. "Come aboard and give me your news."

James brought the schooner alongside the ship and Miles was tossed a ladder to assist him in climbing to the higher deck of the Spar. James put a hand to Miles's shoulder before he climbed up and Miles turned to him.

"I certainly won't forgive you if I need to tell Mother the navy killed you," he hissed.

Miles forced a smile and took James's arm. "I know, James. Run at the first sign that you should."

James pushed him toward the rail. "I won't be running. Not if my brother is still alive."

Miles was surprised by his sudden words of courage. "It might still be better for you to run if the need arises," he said quietly, thinking of his new niece, whose name he had learned was Rachel. "Don't be caught in my scheme."

He climbed the ladder before James could say anything more. Once on the Spar he was surprised to see fewer sailors than he had expected. He was being watched by many of them, but not with concern. It seemed most were simply interested in a change from their usual nightly events.

Asher nodded to him. "Come with me," he instructed before leading him toward the stern.

He was rather surprised that Asher led him to what could surely only be the captain's quarters. The room was sparsely furnished, but what there was in the room was ornately designed. A heavily embroidered dressing gown was draped over the chair Asher leaned against.

"I have never been so curious in my life as I am now to know why you're here," Asher said, head cocked slightly to one side.

"Where is your captain and the rest of the crew?" Miles asked.

"Went to shore to learn how things stand in the city and to parade the marines around to frighten the rebels and hearten the Tories. Left me in nearly sole command of all the impressed sailors. Captain was too afraid they'd run off on shore. Instead, three have already jumped overboard, including one of the midshipmen left with me."

"It seems awfully soon to be leaving such a small crew on his ship when he doesn't know the state of things in the city," Miles commented, but he was thankful for the luck he'd found. "Much could happen while he's away."

"Yes, well, I never did think he was terribly competent."

"Perhaps that gives me an advantage," Miles told him. "I've come to ask for this ship."

Asher gave him a look that seemed a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "I'm sorry?"

"I have a letter of marque," Miles explained. "When I returned home after our meeting at sea, I did indeed learn that Mr. Cobb expected myself and my crew to relocate our families and entire lives to England. It did not sit well with anyone on my crew, nor myself. Happily, I was approached by a private backer who offered me a privateering commission. The only thing he could not assist me with was a ship, due to no fault of his own. I remembered what you told me about wishing to be back on my father's privateer. I offer you that opportunity, though on my privateer. I was hoping to take the Spar as my ship. It is far superior to the Abigail Cobb, which is the only other option available to me."

Asher continued to stare at him for a moment. "You came here to incite a mutiny to take a Royal Navy frigate and use it for a privateer against British trade? Are you mad?"

Miles shrugged. "I've found success is more of a possibility now that I'm aboard."

"You are mad," Asher laughed and rubbed his hand over his face. "If the ship is seized they certainly won't waste time with a court martial, they'll hang me from the rigging." For a long moment he said nothing more, and Miles started to wonder if he had misjudged. Then Asher cocked his head again, hand on his chin. "What will I receive for this special bit of treason?"

Miles grinned. "A position as a lieutenant. You would be the fifth, alongside the mates from the whaling crew. But most of the crew I already have haven't touched a gun or been in battle – aside from one or two who served militias. They'll need training and drilling. You would be fitting for the task, if that's agreeable to you."

Asher nodded thoughtfully. "I find it agreeable. Far more agreeable than the navy, at any rate."

"The crew you have on board now, will any of them fight the decision?"

"Not many," Asher answered. "As I said, they are mostly impressed sailors, many American. Those who don't wish to join us I would like to set off the ship in a respectful way. I don't wish to hold my own crew prisoner."

Miles nodded. "I agree with that thought. I don't wish to force anyone or keep more prisoners than we will already be keeping when we take prizes. Shall we go speak to the crew?"

Asher smiled and escorted him from the captain's quarters. Miles took up a commanding position on the quarterdeck and waited for Asher to gather the crew. He called down the few who were aloft and called up those at rest below. Those who had seen Miles come aboard eyed him with curiosity. There still appeared to be no hostility toward him as a stranger, only interest purely for his freeing them from their usual nighttime monotony.

The feeling was not extended toward their commanding officer. One man spat at Asher's feet when Asher pushed him and another two men up from below.

"I'll excuse that for the moment," Asher told him. "Only because I wish to be here less than you do."

"Lying bastard," the man spat.

Asher ignored the comment and a few minutes later came up beside Miles. "Everyone is accounted for and present."

"Thank you," Miles told him, before speaking to the entire crew. "Good evening. Lieutenant Sands, an old friend of mine, tells me many of you are not here of your own choosing. I'm here to offer you all the opportunity to leave the Royal Navy, and to make the war more difficult for that same navy. My name is Captain Miles Dunn and I am here to offer each of you a position on my privateer. I have a letter of marque from the colony of Massachusetts to assist in the war against the British by harassing trade as often as possible. Is that an offer that is agreeable to any of you?"

Whispers had begun while he had spoken, and quickly grew to excited exclamations of assent. Miles could see that most of the sailors were grinning.

"Any who don't agree will be put to shore, I assure you," Miles went on. "I only take what prisoners I must and I don't harm those who don't deserve it. There is no shame or dishonor in not wishing to be among the crew of a privateer. For those who do join, I will keep you all in your current positions, unless there is one that suits you better. That I also assure you."

"What about him?" someone demanded, pointing to Asher. Many more voices from the crew echoed the words.

Asher said nothing and didn't react other than to look at Miles. He stood rigidly with his hands behind his back.

"He is coming with us," Miles answered. "He is as eager to throw off the forced rigors and expectations of the Royal Navy as most of you surely are. It is because of him that I am here and able to offer you this future. Lieutenant Sands will continue on as one of my lieutenants."

"So he can continue to see us whipped?" someone else called out.

Miles smiled. "I attempt to be a far more understanding captain than any of those you've served under in the Royal Navy. My ships have a strict rule of respect for all aboard. Indeed, if you neglect your work or harm another member of the crew, you will be punished or put off the ship, but I have always kept my ships' articles fair, as you will soon see yourself. The navy takes far too much control over its sailors' lives."

"To that I agree," Asher added. "I do not enjoy punishing trivial matters, but when a cruel captain orders me to, there is nothing else for me but to do it."

"If anyone does not wish to join a privateer where Lieutenant Sands will still be kept as an officer, I will put you to shore," Miles reiterated. "This is not an act of impressment. I force no one to serve on my crews."

There was more muttering and whispers, though most still seemed happier than not.

"We go to Nantucket shores," Miles continued. "On the way you may decide if you wish to leave or not. If so, I will put you to shore there in a few days. No one will be forced to join on," he stated yet again. "I have a crew from a whaler there who will be joining us, and I've already selected a first prize for us to take. Are we in agreement?"

There were cheers from the crew, and Miles saw only two who seemed uninterested in the idea. He'd need Asher to have them watched. He couldn't allow anyone to leave the ship until his plan for the Abigail Cobb was executed. Only then could he chance letting anyone go ashore.

"Then perhaps we should be going," a man said from the rail. "I believe the captain and the rest of the crew are returning. There's a brig on its way from the docks and it's signaled us."