"Permission granted." Winston thumbed them in the direction of Spurre.
The armada of sails was clearly visible on the horizon now, and rapidly swelling. As the first streaks of dawn showed across the waters, English colors could be seen on the flagship. It was dark brown and massive, with wide cream-colored sails. Now it had put on extra canvas, pulling away from the fleet, bearing down on the harbor.
Winston studied the man-of-war, marveling at its majesty and size. How ironic, he thought. England's never sent a decent warship against the Spaniards in the New World, even after they burned out helpless settlements. But now they send the pick of the navy, against their own people.
"Damned to them, that is the Rainbowe. " Bedford squinted at the ship. "She's a first-rank man-of-war, fifty guns. She was King Charles' royal ship of war. She'll transport a good two hundred infantry."
Winston felt his stomach tighten. Could it be there'd be more
than a blockade? Had Parliament really sent the English army to invade the island?
"I'm going down to the breastwork." He glanced quickly at Katherine, then turned and began to make his way toward the gun emplacements. Edwin Spurre and the indentures were moving slowly through the early half-light, carrying kegs of powder.
"I think we can manage with these guns, Cap'n." Canninge was standing by the first cannon, his long hair matted against the sweat on his forehead. "I've cleaned out the touch holes and checked the charge delivered by the powder ladle we found. They're eighteen-pounders, culverin, and there's some shot here that ought to serve."
"Then prime and load them. On the double."
"Aye."