"Aye, sir." The quartermaster steadied the glass against the roll of the ship. "And making for the Resolve like they was runnin' from hell itself."
"Then bear full sail. Two points to windward of the bastard on the left. Full press, and hoist the spritsail. Keep the wind and pay her room till we're in range."
With an exultant whoop Mackintosh jabbed the sweat-soaked telescope toward Hawksworth, and began bellowing orders to the mates. Within moments sails unfurled and snapped in the wind, sending the Discovery's bow biting into the chop and hurtling spray over the bulwarks. Hawksworth kept to the quarterdeck, studying the nearest warship with the glass. The galleon's forecastle towered above the horizon now like some Gothic fortress, and with the glass he could make out pennants blazoned from all her yardarms. Then he turned toward the Indian pilot, whose gaze was riveted on the Portuguese warships.
"What's the name of the galleon on the left, the large one?" Hawksworth pointed toward the vessel he had been observing with the glass. "I can't read it from this distance."
"That one is the Bon Ventura. We know her to be heavily armed."
"I'd say she's over a thousand tons burden. I wonder how handy she'll be with her best men out in the longboats?"
"She'll meet you soon enough, with her full bounty. It is said that last year she caught and sank a twenty-gun Dutch frigate trading in the Moluccas."
"She'll still have to come about into the wind." Hawksworth seemed not to hear the pilot now, so absorbed was he in the looming battle.
As though in answer to his thoughts, the Bon Ventura started to heel slowly about, like an angered bull. But the Discovery now had the windward position secure, and the Portuguese ship would have to tack laboriously into the wind. Her canvas was close-hauled and she would be slow. We've got the weather gage now, Hawksworth told himself, and we'll hold it. Then he noticed that the second galleon in the row, the St. Sebastian, had also begun wearing around, bringing her stern across the wind as she too turned to meet the Discovery.
"They've deciphered our plan," Hawksworth said quietly to himself, "and now it's two of the bastards we'll face. But with luck we'll engage the Bon Ventura before the St. Sebastian can beat to range. And the Bon Ventura is drawing away from the fleet. That bit of bravado will cost her."