Taking a step back, Isabel gripped her throat, feeling her pulse race. Horrifying memories of cannon shots blasting through the ship, flaming spikes of wood spearing across the deck, gaping, blackened holes in the hull, fire and smoke filling the air, and the screams of injured men flashed in her mind in a muddled mass of terror.
Angry shouts and footsteps thundered over the deck as pirates emerged from below, rubbing sleep from their eyes.
Kent lowered his glass. "A warning shot. They flee now. Gibbons," he yelled aft. "Hard aport!"
"Hard aport, Cap'n."
Marching to the foredeck railing, he scanned the crew below. "Smithy, set all studding sails. Bring her full into the breeze."
"Cap'n, why is we runnin' like snivelin' dogs?" Murdock shielded his eyes and studied the ship in the distance. "Could be a fair prize, says I."
The pirates grumbled in agreement as the ship lurched to port, sending Isabel stumbling to the railing.