Page 1 of A Foreign Crown
Chapter One
North Sea, outside Oldenburg, 1810
The mist over the watercleared enough that Prince Layton Christian Wilhelm could see through his spyglass the Jolly Roger unfurl off the topmast of the enemy ship. The barrelman, standing high on his post in the crow’s nest, had seen it too and waved his arms, sending hand signals to the first mate, Jorge. They waited in silence aboard Layton’s ship in their cove, great walls of rock towering above them on three sides.
Jorge came to stand beside Layton on the upper deck. “It’s one of the French.”
“You’re certain?”
“Absolutely. By the time they enter our harbor, they’ll be flying different colors, mark my words.”
“Is it theMarengo?” The French ship’s occupants, notorious for pretending to be pirates to pillage other ships, were cowardly enough to not ever fly their country’s true colors until they were safely docked in another country’s bay. Layton knew his men itched to take the ship as much as he did, but he needed to see for himself so he could bring his witness of the French deception to the committee.
“Wait one minute more.” Jorge lifted his own spyglass.
Layton watched the barrelman for more hand signals.
The mist seemed to billow up all around them from the water.
“Blast!” Jorge lowered his glass.
“What is it?” Layton eyed the surrounding area through his small spyglass. “Where are they?”
“Plum disappeared, they have.”
“Impossible.” Layton swung his glass in all directions.
The barrelman confirmed no visual. The fog had hidden even the hint of brown on the enemy ship’s hull.
Layton ran to the side of the boat. “Confound the French.”
Then everything around them shook with the sounds of guns. Artillery landed in the water in front of them, mere hands’ length from the side of their ship.
“We’re under attack! Guns up,” Layton shouted.
His well-trained navy sprang into action. Layton climbed the crow’s nest himself and cursed the mist he had previously counted as a blessing. How could they hit something they couldn’t see? He felt exposed, trapped in this small bay between Norway and Hanover, waiting to be shot down by an invisible foe. His head whipped around as he scanned the water in all directions, tense and bracing for a hit.
But none came.
“Ship ahoy. They’re rounding the bend.” His barrelman pointed.
Layton saw theMarengoin a clearing in the fog. Its captain stood on deck and saluted as his ship moved out of sight.
Layton’s fist tightened around his spyglass. “Did you get a visual on their flag?”
“Still the crossbones, but it’s theMarengo. I saw their crest.” Jorge had rejoined him.
“So it was just a warning shot? Are they toying with us?” Layton’s anger surged.
“Looks that way. Our hands are tied, and they know it.”
“No longer. We finally have the proof we need to get the committee moving on this.” He adjusted his cap. “I hope.” Once the royal advisors knew the French were toying with them, pirating their goods and then playing ally in the harbor, Layton hoped he’d have permission to engage, to clear their waters of all enemy ships no matter what flag they flew.
“Your Highness, you must convince them.”
“I know.”
They had been plagued by pirates. Hardly a ship could come in or out of Oldenburg’s harbor without first being stripped of its contents. Their import-export businesses were failing. They were all but under their own unique siege. And Layton and the navy he commanded were frozen by lack of permission to engage with the French ships. Only when flying other colors could they engage, or when being attacked, which of course never involved the official French flag. Well, his father would see reason—hemustsee reason—now that Layton knew the French were involved by privateering. Layton and his crew had seen it with their own eyes. Just because a ship changed flags, because they were hiding under the guise of a French emissary or visit or commercial ship, did not mean they were immune to repercussions for robbing the Oldenburg nation, not any longer, if his father would finally understand.
