Bedford gazed down the hill, toward the gun emplacements at the ocean cliff. "Aye, but we don't yet know why the fleet's come. We've only had rumors."
"At least one of those rumors was based on fact, sir." Briggs had moved beside them. "I have it on authority, from my broker in London, that an Act was reported from the Council of State four weeks past to embargo our shipping till the Assembly votes recognition of the Commonwealth. He even sent me a copy. And this fleet was already being pulled together at the time. I don't know how many men-o'-war they've sent, but I heard the flagship was to be the Rainbowe. Fifty guns." He looked back at the Assembly. "And the surest way to put an end to our prosperity now would be to resist."
He was rudely shouted down by several Assemblymen, royalists cursing the Commonwealth. The air came alive with calls for defiance.
"Well, we're going to find out what they're about before we do anything, one way or the other." Bedford looked around him. "We've got guns down there in the breastwork. I'd say we can at least keep them out of the bay for now."
"Not without gunners, you won't." Ruyters' voice was somber. "Who've you got here? Show me a man who's ever handled a linstock, and I'll give you leave to hang me. And I'll not be lending you my lads, though I'd dearly love to. It'd be a clear act of war."
Winston was staring down at the shore, toward his own waiting seamen. If the English navy entered Carlisle Bay, the first vessel they'd confiscate would be the Defiance.
"God help me." He paused a moment longer, then walked to the edge of the hill and drew a pistol. The shot echoed through the morning silence.
The report brought a chorus of yells from the shore. Suddenly a band of seamen were charging up the hill, muskets at the ready, led by John Mewes. Winston waited till they topped the rise, then he gestured them forward. "All gunnery mates report to duty at the breastwork down there at the Point, on the double." He pointed toward the row of rusty cannon overlooking the bay. "Master Gunner Tom Canninge's in charge."
Several of the men gave a loose salute and turned to hurry down the hill. Winston watched them go, then looked back at Bedford. "How much powder do you have?"
"Powder? I'm not sure anybody knows. We'll have to check the magazine over there." Bedford gestured toward a low building situated well behind the breastwork, surrounded by its own stone fortification. "I'd say there's likely a dozen barrels or so."