shadow of britain

Chapter 105 The determination of the Royal Navy

Above the English Channel, the Beagle was in a favorable position to windward.

From the lens of the monocular, Colonel Fitzroy observed every move of the opposite ship.

He saw that the gangway between the two ships was put away, and immediately after that, both ships raised the signal flag of 'willing to stop for inspection'.

"This……"

Colonel Fitzroy looked at the two ships with almost the same size, and for a moment it was difficult to tell which one was the 'Black Thorn' they were looking for.

He thought about it for a moment, and decided to keep a certain distance in accordance with naval warfare practices before confirming the identity of the opponent.

He opened his mouth to order: "Put the sampan into the sea, and send eight marines to board the boat for inspection. If something is wrong on the way, wave the white flag, and we will go there to rescue you as soon as possible."

Following Colonel Fitzroy's order, several marines, led by two non-commissioned officers, jumped into the two small boats tied to the sides.

With the push of the winch, the two small boats descended little by little with the hemp rope, and finally landed on the sea in a stable manner.

Arthur stood at the bow of the ship, sniffing the cool sea breeze, but always felt a lingering smell of blood lingering in his nose.

Agares was standing beside him, he raised his right arm, and immediately an illusory red-eyed raven flew over the sea and landed on his forearm.

Agares put his ear close to the crow's beak, and nodded repeatedly while listening to the raven's report.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The Red Devil took out a small colored ball from his pocket and fed it into the raven's mouth. He smiled and patted its head: "This is a reward for you."

Seeing this, Arthur calmly said with a pipe in his mouth, "I'm quite willing to pay the price!"

The red devil grinned: "Of course, do you think I'm a bitch? Arthur. I've always been generous to those who work hard, but you don't give up on the hard-working devil. How about it? Do you want to make a deal, ten souls, in exchange for I have a message."

"A piece of information bought by a soul can be resold for ten times the huge profits. Agares, you really know how to do business better than the Jews."

Hearing this, Agares snorted, "Arthur, you are belittling me! Back then Judas sold Jesus for thirty silver coins. I can't negotiate such a low price! For the devil, the life of a prophet is far more than thirty silver coins!"

"Really?" Arthur asked, "What about my life?"

"Oh, my dear Arthur."

The Red Devil rubbed his hands and laughed: "Your question involves my business secrets. Although I can't answer your question, I can tell you that the news that the price is ten souls can save you more than Ten lives."

"is it?"

Arthur thought back on what Agares said, and only after confirming that the guy used a declarative sentence did he say: "It seems that a devil is going to make a fortune today."

The Red Devil smiled and said, "Arthur, look at what you said. We are all fair trades, and Professor Agares is fair to all."

Arthur didn't speak, but just stretched out his hand and pressed his fingerprint on the contract that Agares conjured up.

Almost instantly, his stretched brows were instantly frowned, and the scene of Fred talking to someone just now flashed in his mind.

He quickly took off his pipe and cursed in a low voice: "Fuck, what Fred does is really a big business! Not only did he sell indentured slaves to North America, but he also cooperated with the Barbary pirates who specially sent white slaves to the Ottoman Turkish Empire." Get involved!"

The Red Devil floated beside him, covered his mouth and smiled and said, "But how are you going to convince Colonel Fitzroy to trust you? You can't tell him, you know that the Barbary pirates made a deal with the devil, right?"

"Persuasion? Why should I persuade him?"

"Then what are you going to do? Waiting for the other side to take the initiative to attack?"

Arthur didn't say a word, he just came to the cannon on the bow, smiled at the gunner and asked, "Is the cannon loaded?"

The gunner was taken aback by his question: "Of course."

Arthur nodded expressionlessly, then pointed to the sky and shouted: "My God! Look, is that God?"

The gunner looked up flicked by him, and Arthur took advantage of this moment to put the burning pipe on the gun fuze.

The gunner turned around, scratched the back of his head blankly, and asked, "Sir, where is God?"

Arthur didn't answer either, he just counted down.

"Three, two, one..."

There was only a bang, and the artillery fire shot up into the sky, and the shells flew out rapidly along the barrel, but because of the too far distance, they were unable to continue, and finally had to hit the sea not far from the Blackthorn.

The bow of the ship was filled with white smoke, and the gunner was stunned by the movement. It took him a long time to realize what happened.

He couldn't help but angrily said: "Are you crazy? Why did you do such a thing before the captain gave the order?"

Arthur put one hand in his pocket and shook his head: "I've said it all, I didn't do it, it's God."

Immediately afterwards, he walked towards Colonel Fitzroy.

And Colonel Fitzroy was also very frightened by the sudden shot. As he walked towards the bow, he cursed angrily: "Which bitch fired the cannon? I fucking skinned him !"

Arthur stepped forward, stretched out the folded binoculars, and put it in front of Colonel Fitzroy: "Mr. Colonel, don't get angry, take a look at what this is?"

From the perspective of the telescope, two flags were slowly raised on the two ships.

On one side is a skeleton pirate flag painted on a blood red background with a silver and white arm emblem.

On the other side is the triangular blood-colored St. George flag.

As a sailor who has lived on board for more than 20 years, Captain Fitzroy certainly understands what the two flags mean.

The front side symbolizes that the Barbary pirates will kill this place.

The latter side represents that the British pirates will fight to the end.

"Son of a bitch!"

Colonel Fitzroy threw his cap on the ground, his cheeks flushed, whether it was from excitement or anger.

"Damn it, I really caught two big fish! All the crew obeyed, turned the boat sideways, and aligned the artillery!"

On the Black Thorn opposite, Fred was also watching the movement of the Beagle with a telescope.

He threw the binoculars down angrily, and cursed: "How do they know we have a problem? Get closer to me, I'm going to go up and kill those idiots!"

However, before he finished speaking, he heard the sound of gunfire on the sea.

"hidden!!!"

The chief mate's voice ran through the entire Blackthorn, but before he finished shouting this sentence, four shells roared and hit the hull of the Blackthorn.

One shot pierced the ram, one shot broke the mast, and two shots directly took the lives of three unlucky ones.

"Damn it!" Fred spat, "If the Army Artillery had this precision back then, Waterloo wouldn't have been so hard to fight!"

He yelled: "What are you still doing? Fire me back!"

But Fred snarled and snarled, and the mate didn't intend to follow his advice.

Although the Black Thorn was an armed merchant ship, it was only equipped with two eight-pound guns, which were far from within range at this time.

As for the dozens of muskets on board, the effect of firing at this distance is limited to boosting morale.

At this time, he wanted to order to close the distance, but after sailing for a while, he realized that the Blackthorn was in a downwind position. Approaching the Beagle with a speed of [-] knots against the wind was tantamount to a dream.

At this time, the initiative to advance or retreat is almost completely in the hands of the Beagle.

The Black Thorn was at a loss, but the Barbary pirates, who were experienced in naval battles, already had an idea.

They quickly sailed away from the Blackthorn, intending to go around to the weak front of the Beagle to fight back.

But the battle-hardened Royal Navy naturally couldn't make him happy. Almost at the same moment when the Barbary pirates left the Beagle, Colonel Fitzroy ordered to approach the Blackthorn quickly.

Seeing this, Fred couldn't help but be overjoyed, and he ordered: "Turn around, I'm going to have a tough fight with them!"

The first mate had a bitter face when he heard the words, but it was hard to refute.

They are in a downwind position, even if they are playing collision, it is the Beagle hitting the black thorn, and there is no head-on collision at all.

But he still ordered the return fire after the Beagle came within range.

"Fire!"

There was a bang, and the shell fell on the waterline of the Beagle, but it only left a depression on the Beagle's hull reinforced with copper skin.

However, even if there was no damage, the Beagle's gunners had no intention of spoiling Fred's temper.

"FIRE!!!"

Bang bang bang! ! !

This is the second round of shelling within three and a half minutes.

In order not to sink the Black Thorn, the gunners chose the impact point very carefully, either the mast or the canvas.

Their focus is not killing people, but trying to make the Blackthorn incapable of escaping.

As Admiral Nelson famously said, the motto of the Royal Navy was 'if I had the opportunity to capture twelve ships, I would not call it a victory if I only took eleven'.

Just when Fred thought that the shelling was over and he could finally calm down for a while, a strong smell of saltpeter suddenly came from the tip of his nose.

Before he could figure out what was going on, he found countless white spots of light on the deck of the Beagle, and then heard bursts of shrill screams on the sea.

Fred's pupils shrunk. He knew the thing because the Army had used it to attack Napoleon at Waterloo.

He still remembered that the infantry only used a few hundred rounds of this thing to withstand several attacks from Napoleon's personal soldiers, the French Old Guard.

Congreve rockets!
Fred didn't know its scientific name, and he, an uneducated cavalryman, usually preferred to call it 'Death's Whisper'.

Almost in an instant, the whole ship of the Blackthorn was on fire, and the burnt sailors were lying on the deck and rolling around. Explosions rang in my ears from time to time, and the air smelled of urine due to panic and fear. , and there are a lot of mature meat flavors after grilling.

The twisting flames like snakes and the screams one after another are enough to cover the blood on the feet and the charred corpse emitting white smoke.

Looking at the scene in front of him, Fred wondered if he had inhaled too much smoke. In a trance, he felt as if he had returned to that day 15 years ago.

The June 6th when he lost two fingers and a toe.

Suddenly, the hull of the Blackthorn trembled violently, amidst the terrified shout of the first officer.

Fred saw three gangplanks erected in front of him.

On the springboard, a dozen marines with swords in their mouths were rushing towards the deck of the Blackthorn.

And on the diving board directly opposite him stood a black-haired young man with an officer's sword in his mouth.

He leaped off the gangplank and thrust his sword through the jaw of the Blackthorn sailor who was lunging at him.

He moved his footsteps again, avoiding the slashing on the left side, and then stepped on the shin of the enemy beside him, and smoothly inserted the long sword into his throat, and pierced through the back of the opponent's head with a little effort.

As soon as he took a life, he turned his body around again, clamped the scimitar that was slashing at him with his left palm wearing a leather glove, and then swooped forward to send the blade in his hand into the enemy's heart.

When Fred saw this, he suddenly felt his blood, which had been silent for a long time, boil a bit.

Although he occasionally killed a few people over the years, it was just a one-sided massacre, which did not arouse his interest at all.

Except for Willox, who was more resistant to playing, he hadn't encountered a master of this level for a long time.

"There are such capable people in the Royal Navy?" He widened his eyes and grinned, "Mediterranean style of fighting, Apennine swordsmanship, Fiore style?"

(End of this chapter)