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The explosion from the first cannon split the dawn like a peal of thunder and made everyone jump. The ball landed some way from the enemy on the port side and the enemy moved to starboard as she began to come about.
“He’s trying to show us his guns, sir,” Fowler reported.
“Stay with him, Mister Moon, we’ll only get one chance at this. Prepare the guns and run them out, Mister Fowler.”
“Aye, sir,” Fowler barked the orders and gun crews along the deck loaded the heavy shot in the sleek metal cannons and sprang back as the guns were pushed through the ports. Gun captains leaped forward, many of them sitting astride their charges, as they aimed them through the port holes.
The enemy ship got the first shots off but their hastily-aimed barrage sent most of their shots wide or through the sails above, mercifully missing any of the masts but sending topmen into action to replace cut lines and rigging as the ships drew closer.
“Fire!”
Butler’s command was passed on by Fowler but the crews had heard the original order and leapt to their tasks. The guns belched their charges as one and the thunder of the explosion left ears ringing and noses twitching at the sharp reek of powder.
“Reload!”
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