Coyle The Adventures of Mad Gad the Bard The Midnight Armada

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 979-8-3509-7220-7
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, Band 1, 260 Seiten

Reihe: The Adventures of Mad Gad the Bard The Midnight Armada

The Adventures of Mad Gad the Bard: The Midnight Armada is a story about a ragtag group of sometimes-pirates led by the fearless Captain Tamara and their search for answers surrounding Whispering Gemstones. Gadriel, 'Mad Gad' to some, is a bard used to nights filled with song and drink, who has found himself and his best friend Shanks aboard the Midnight and, for better or worse, part of the crew and its mission. Join our unlikely heroes as they continue their swashbuckling adventure filled with new friends, exciting battles, frightening foes, and of course, plenty of trouble.

James Coyle is a father, author, and public servant living in Northern California where he was born and raised. In addition to one beautiful, mischievous daughter, he has one completely anxious loon of a rescued dog. Fortunately they found one another, and they are anxious loons together. James began writing as a means of therapy later in life where, as it so happens, he found a great passion for writing characters and storytelling, and so here we are. The Adventures of Mad Gad the Bard is the first series he has written, hopefully the first of many. The first book he wrote, however, will have to remain a mystery until the time is right. James loves spending time with his family, including his neurotic dog, and helping people; spending time with the characters in his head any chance that he gets. Please enjoy his work, it was a lot of fun to share, and hopefully just as fun to read.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Coyle, James

Leseproben

2 Saints Rock It did not take long for the Midnight to begin listing to aft and port. The reason for the Midnight to lean back and to the left is because as they were making their left turn away from the Bull Shark and toward Saints Rock. Barlow had evidently ordered his gun crews to run below decks and take a shot at the Midnight, and apparently Barlow still had men loyal to him and those men were fine shots because it was not one easy to make at such an angle and distance. Though the cannon was light, the Midnight was not an armored vessel. And what was punched into its lower rear-most left side, near the water line, was a considerably mangled hole that was slowly flooding her ballast, as Smithy reported. Fortunately, Clancy reported no casualties. However, depending on the extent of the damage, this very well may be all human casualties of the Midnight and her crew. If they were lucky at all from the placement of this shot, it was that it was rear enough that only one ballast compartment was affected. With the weight of the Midnight’s cargo, equipment, cannon, and crew, this was still important and dangerous, but it did not mean outright and immediate disaster. It did, however, mean a dangerous and slower trip to Saints Rock. While the Midnight “tipped backward” slightly, for a simpler descriptor, its prow raised, placing the steering rudder deeper in the water, making steering more difficult. Not that they would want to steer too harshly or risk further damaging the ship or causing sinking to occur more rapidly. What the crew of the Midnight did do, however—and this was actually Smithy’s idea first—was to reel out full sail off the forward mast, and near-full sail on the central and rear masts, and use wind to help steer the ship and even its weight, if only slightly; but every bit counted in these circumstances. Once the damage control was done and the Midnight was underway in earnest again, there was nothing more for the crew to do than continue sailing, do their best to complete typical duties, and wait until they reached their destination so they could dock for repairs. Fortunately, as far as they knew, Saints Rock still had a dry dock and they may be able to rent it to repair the Midnight much more quickly than attempting so in a port’s berth. “Mr. Mad Gad,” said Clancy from behind Gadriel in the galley shortly after breakfast. “You need to come with us,” he said, standing with a serious and somber Rose beside him. Gadriel, concerned, got up from his bench at the table saying, “Of course, please lead the way.” The pair marched Gadriel out of the Galley, then down the corridor, then onto to the main deck, then up to the door of the captain’s quarters. Clancy knocked three sharp times. Captain Tamara could be heard from inside “Come in, deary.” All were now standing in Captain Tamara’s cabin. Rose, Gadriel, Clancy, Violet, Smithy, and Tamara. “Mad Gad,” said the captain. “Yes, Cap’t?” Gadriel asked, still confused and becoming increasingly concerned. “We are excited to present to you, your very own leathers!” Tamara said beaming. Clancy was smiling wide as well. Gadriel couldn’t believe it himself. To have fighting leathers was a massive luxury on private ships, let alone ones of this quality. “That’s not all, love. Take a lookie here.” Tamara produced a beautiful, waist-length dark brown leather jacket. Gadriel didn’t know what to do or say. “I don’t know what to do or say.” He almost stuttered out, shaking his head. Clancy then said “You don’t have to say nuthin’ Mr. Gad” like a proud uncle would. “This has got to be one of the nicest jackets I’ve ever seen, and you’re saying it’s mine?” asked Gadriel. “Right-o, boyo!” Tamara said cheerfully. Gadriel slipped on the jacket with a level of reverence you don’t see often. And it didn’t happen often, but Mad Gad the Bard was at a complete loss for words. The jacket slid onto Gadriel’s shoulders like a worn-in, favorite glove. Though he hadn’t met this Barlow person that everyone seemed to dislike, especially his former crew, they must have been very similar in size. Rose seemed just as excited for Gadriel to be presented with such a gift, and though others couldn’t know it, so were Shanks and Rod. “You’re smokin’ hot, sir,” said Rod with a few cat-call whistles while Shanks pretended his hair was in the wind and he walked across the room in slow motion. “Thank you everyone. But, I’ve got to ask, how is Midnight?” Gadriel asked. “Aw, we’re going to be fine, just maybe three days instead of two to Saints Rock and maybe don’t jump up and down on the back end of the ship. In fact, just stay at the front end of the ship most the day,” said the captain to a round of chuckles. Over the next days, the crew took their meals on the main deck toward the front of the ship, the galley being at the back. Placing the whole crew’s weight on the back of the ship at the same time would not have been a good idea; Captain Tamara was only half-joking with Gadrel the day before. The Midnight’s rear chase gun was moved forward, and bunks from the personnel deck were moved to the gun deck to save weight on the rear of the ship. It was apparent to all as to why. The Midnight, while still moving, was just slower and listing at an almost 10-degree aft angle. Which may not seem like much, but when everything on your ship was designed to work at a 10-degrees difference, it was immediately noticeable. The rig master and Helmsman worked together carefully to maximize speed without pulling or torquing the angle and position of the Midnight too severely. Deciding that at this point, steady speed that would not make damage worse, either by worsening the cannon damage or taking on more water than was necessary, was best. They would move, but move to stay afloat, not to go fast. Smithy concurred; and for his part, used this opportunity to learn how Helmsman and the rig master worked together as a team, interrupting little. Smithy asked clarifying questions, if only to understand how they approached sailoring; in doing so, however, he was also showing Helmsman and the rig master that Smithy knew exactly what he was doing and that he was a man who could be trusted with decision-making. After two days the Midnight had taken on more water, increasing her aft angle to twelve degrees. This placed most everyone on edge and everyone on the front of the ship unless necessary to be elsewhere. Training sessions and sparring matches were canceled, cargo and food stuffs had been moved as forward as possible. Cook prepared dry foods and foods without heat much more forward on the ship, specifically on the gun deck. The third night, most men were sleeping shoulder to shoulder on the gun deck and outside on the main deck of the ship. Captain Tamara and her officers didn’t sleep in their cabins, opting to share their counterweight to the front of the ship and sleep with the crew. As was normal, the captain was given a wide berth and the utmost respect of her crew, which of course the captain returned. “Good leadership is built upon mutual respect, Thorny” the captain would lecture Rose when she wasn’t dueling with her; and most often, Rose thought, she was absolutely correct. To everyone’s relief, and no one cried probably, on the morning of the fourth day, the crew of the Merchant Ship Midnight spotted an inlet of land that, true to their navigation, turned out to be waters off of Saints Rock. Shanks spotted it first with excited sharp blows on his spotter’s horn, which allowed for Gadriel to alert the Captain and now Smithy. Captain Tamara, for her part through this endeavor, had been calm and collected despite the extreme stress of the looming threat of losing her crew, losing her ship, and dying; in that descending order of terribleness. Knowing the captain, if she lost her crew and her ship, she would probably want to die anyway. She had said it before, but there wasn’t any doubt by the people closest to her, that she thought of her crew as her boys, her family. She thought of Midnight as her home. Entering the calmer, more shallow waters off shore of Saints Rock, Smithy, Helmsman, and the rig master decided to pick up speed on the last leg of this journey as they had taken on more water overnight and decided it was worth the risk. It very well may have been, as the Midnight passed Saints Rock’s jetties, long stone sea walls built to calm tides and waves, just before reaching the dock the Midnight’s rear hull started to scrape and bottom-out in the harbor. With the help of tinder and a few other small vessels they were towed / dragged the last several 100 steps into their berth and the Midnight came to rest at over a 15-degree angle; her keel climbing out of the water, nose up and into the air. Disturbing angles or no, practiced routines are muscle memory. And the crew just came into port and had work to do. The main cargo door was opened, just at a significant angle they weren’t accustomed to. So the crew began unloading cargo at a lean. One by one, the same cargo that was re-appropriated from the Bull Shark, now-six total crates of food stuffs and two flats of four crates of fabrics and other materials, was unloaded and placed on...