Episode 7

A week later, the Azure set sail once again. Aboard were the Count of Devonshire and a parliamentary envoy, while Amélie remained at the mansion. The Azure cut through the dark waters of the English Channel, its patched sails fluttering in the irregular wind. Every creak of the wood seemed to amplify the tension among the crew. The Queen Elizabeth, with its flawless sails and imposing silhouette, followed closely in the rear. The rising sun painted the sky golden, but the atmosphere on board was one of expectation and unease.

Captain Scott stood on the deck, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He knew these waters were treacherous, especially with the constant threat of French privateers. Beside him, the Count of Devonshire appeared lost in thought, his hand firmly grasping his cane, his eyes fixed on the faint line where the sky met the sea.

“Captain, how long until we reach the island of Sark?” asked the Count, breaking the silence.

Scott adjusted his hat, gazing out at the horizon before responding. “With fair winds, two days, My Lord. But if conditions change or we encounter... obstacles, it could take longer.”

Devonshire pressed his lips together, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. “Obstacles? What do you mean by that?”

Scott turned to face him, maintaining a composed tone. “These waters, My Lord, aren’t as safe as they seem. Privateers, French ships... even storms that appear out of nowhere. We’re well accompanied by the frigate, but it would be foolish to ignore the risks.”

The Count slowly shook his head. He knew Scott was right, but it did not lessen his impatience. As the Azure sailed on, the sailors were busy adjusting ropes and vigilantly scanning the surroundings. The parliamentary envoy, a young man with a stoic expression named Mr. Caldwell, came up on deck. He stopped beside the Count and gave a slight bow.

“My Lord, I trust everything is to your satisfaction,” said Caldwell with forced politeness.

Devonshire turned slowly, his expression grim. “Nothing will satisfy me until my granddaughter and Lord Devereux are found.”

Caldwell held his gaze but responded firmly. “I understand, My Lord. But I must remind you that our mission is to recover more than just lives. There are matters of state involved. We must be prepared to act if we encounter resistance.”

Devonshire narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. “Tabitha is my granddaughter, not a pawn in your political game, Caldwell. Keep that in mind.”

Caldwell took a step back, nodding respectfully but maintaining his firm stance. “Of course, My Lord. But if I may say, this political game could determine the fate of our nation. We cannot afford to fail.”

The conversation was interrupted when the sailor in the main mast shouted:

“Ship sighted, starboard!”

Everyone on deck turned to look in the indicated direction. A small ship was visible in the distance, its worn sails flapping in the wind. It didn’t seem like an immediate threat, but its approach was too swift to be casual.

Scott pulled out the telescope and observed closely. “A whaler... or at least it looks like one,” he murmured, lowering the instrument. “But it’s sailing too fast. Something’s not right.”

Devonshire furrowed his brow. “What do you suggest, Captain?”

Scott hesitated for a moment before turning to his first mate.

“Prepare the defences. And signal the Queen Elizabeth. I want the frigate on full alert.”

The first mate rushed to carry out the orders. Within minutes, the Azure deck was in a frenzy. Sailors checked muskets, adjusted ropes, and positioned the few cannons they had. As the unknown ship drew closer, it became clear that it was not just a whaler. False flags were lowered, revealing the insignia of French privateers. From the deck, armed men began shouting in French, preparing to board.

Devonshire gripped his cane more tightly, his expression dark. “They’re provoking us.”

Scott nodded, his eyes fixed on the privateers. “That’s what they do, My Lord. But don’t worry, we’re not alone.”

A loud boom echoed through the air as the Queen Elizabeth fired a warning shot. The projectile whizzed past, but the message was clear. The privateer ship hesitated, adjusting its sails, as if reconsidering the attack.

“Looks like we have influential friends,” murmured Scott, a small smile crossing his lips.

But before they could relax, another sailor shouted:

“Another ship, port side!”

Scott raised the telescope again, his face hardening. “Another privateer... larger. They intend to trap us.”

The Azure veered sharply to avoid being cornered, and the frigate took up a protective position. On deck, the crew was on high alert. Scott shouted orders to adjust the course, while sailors checked their weapons and prepared for combat.

Devonshire, despite his age, refused to leave the deck. “My Lord, I suggest you go below for your safety,” said Scott, concerned.

The Count lifted his head, his eyes resolute. “No. My granddaughter is out there. I won’t hide when there’s a chance to save her.”