Historical Fiction Short Stories Collection

The time-honored cry of the sea floated down to them from the foretop. “Sail ho!” All eyes went aloft. The lash was momentarily forgotten. The sail must be very close, otherwise it would not have been announced. “Where away?” shouted Mannville. “Off the starboard, coming across our bows!” Men leaped to the rail. The haze of light cast up by the sun on water momentarily blinded them. And then they saw the ship. It was sailing against the morning sun, full-rigged, tall-masted, gilded sterncastle sparkling. It was a bark of about sixty guns. Against the light, its sails looked black. Even as they stared at it, a roll of bunting went up the truck and burst. Its identity was unmistakable. A grinning skull against an ebon field. —L. Ron Hubbard