The army had always been home to Jake. He was comfortable with the hard life of camp and the cordite smell in the air after a skirmish. He never regretted that his family couldn’t buy him a commission. He didn’t mind being part of the rank and file, and it was more important that his twin brother Tom get his university education. Tom was the dreamer, Jake was the one with two feet on the ground.

Only one foot now though. A musket ball took his leg and took his life.

Now he stood on the deck of a ship bound for the New World, watching the sailors move about with able bodied ease while he could barely keep his one foot and crutch steady beneath him. It was difficult not to be bitter, and Jake didn’t bother trying very hard.

Tom had a position at a new university in Virginia, and in his letter he’d assured Jake that every man was necessary in the colonies. He said there would be work for Jake as well, if he came.

He couldn’t imagine what, though. Life in the colonies had to be harder than London, and he hadn’t found anyone in London willing to hire a cripple. And he’d be damned if he spent the rest of his days mending fish nets or begging on a corner.

“Ship! Ship!” Up went the call from the crows nest, and everyone on the deck rushed to see the speck on the horizon. Most days at sea were so monotonous that even a ship sighting was something to enter into your diary.

The young tutor, Spellman, joined Jake at the rails as the second ship came closer.

“Oh no!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look at the flag!”

Jake saw a flag of deep indigo with a white bird and dagger emblazoned on it. “What’s wrong with the flag?”

“Don’t you know anything? That’s the flag of the Pirate Queen, Neytiri!”

“The who?”

And that’s when the first cannon ball slammed into the hull.