Through the spyglass, she scrutinized the ship's deck with clarity. It was a three-masted barque, a menacing pirate vessel housing an unbelievable number of a hundred or possibly more pirates. Astonishingly, there was still room for another hundred aboard.
Port and starboard sides displayed ominous cannon ports, each housing twelve cannons, capable of effortlessly overpowering even the mightiest of marine defenses.
On the bustling deck, the crew worked fervently, each task contributing to the grandeur of the ship, while the captain, elevated at a commanding point, bellowed orders to the crew.
As fear seized her, her trembling hands caused her to lose sight of the ship. Slowly placing the spyglass aside, she struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.
Though there were armed protectors stationed on each side of the circular island, their meager number—only ten on each side—left them vastly outnumbered.
As the spyglass slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the wooden floor, she raced to her room, panic-stricken, shouting, "Pirates! Pirates! Pirates!" Her urgent cries echoed through the vast hallways as she sprinted toward the chief's room.
Startled awake, he asked, "What's happening?"
Her words poured out in a rush, "Pirates... They're attacking our island. Please, do something, quickly!"
Rising from his bed, he embraced her, trying to reassure her. "Calm down. How many did you see? How close are they?"
"About a hundred, expected here in ten minutes," she replied.
His once firm grip slackened, his arms dropping to his sides as if shackled to a cannonball and tossed from a hill. "A hundred..."
...
5 minutes in:
As the ship neared the island, drawing close enough to be visible, the workers on the island noticed the vessel, recognizing its ominous black Jolly Roger.
The group wielding axes exchanged looks, their gaze shifting from one another to the advancing pirate ship. Without a word spoken, an unspoken agreement reverberated among them—they were determined to protect the island with their axes. Whether they had families waiting for them or simply carried an unwavering sense of patriotism in their hearts, they were ready to defend.
People tasked with retrieving logs from the forest headed to a nearby small wooden structure. Tools of various kinds hung neatly on the walls, available for workers to use. Those without tools quickly gathered what they needed.
Now, there were 10 trained protectors and 12 makeshift defenders, all prepared to put their lives on the line.
However, they awaited guidance from the trained protectors, as strategy wasn't their forte. It didn't take long before the trained protectors arrived, observing ordinary citizens ready to engage in this impromptu battle against the pirates.
"To the shore!" one of the protectors bellowed.
They swiftly formed a protective line along the shore, ensuring each person was 5 meters apart. In the event the ship veered left or right, the two protectors stationed there would hold their positions while the others rushed to support.
Most of the island's residents were still asleep, undisturbed by any alarm, such as the ringing of bells or the cries of men.
On the ship, a captain with a long black oily hair, wrinkles etched across his face, a double chin, one leg, one eye, and a hook for a hand shouted commands, "CHANGE! AIM!..."
The crew hustled, adjusting their positions while the helmsman slowly turned the wheel, altering the ship's course.
"READY!" the deck crew shouted.
Below deck, powder monkeys scurried from cannon to cannon, providing gunpowder, while the loaders readied the cannons with cannonballs. Positioned at the left side of each cannon, they waited for the signal to ignite and fire.
"Aim ready!" came a loud shout from below.
With affirmative responses from both sides, the captain raised his arm high and boomed, "FIIIIIIIIRE!" With the final word, he brought his arm down.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
The thunderous booms echoed across the island, jolting residents from their slumber. They hurried to windows or cautiously opened doors to witness the commotion.
Twelve thunderous cannon shots were unleashed almost simultaneously, aimed directly at the island. They hurtled through the air with astonishing speed, catching the protectors off guard.
As soon as they glimpsed the unfolding chaos, they hastily shut their doors, seeking refuge on the floor away from the walls facing the sea, protecting their heads with their hands.
The men, accompanied by their wives and children, joined in the chorus of screams, inwardly praying for their lives.
One cannonball struck a protector directly in the stomach, dragging him along until it tore through the wooden wall of a nearby house.
Four more cannonballs tore through various houses, wreaking havoc in their path.
The remaining cannonballs struck the ground or the outskirts of the island, sparing vital structures.
The terrified residents, both families and individuals, lying flat in their houses, were no longer assailed by the thunderous sounds of cannonballs. Instead, some were haunted by the wails of families struck by the cannonballs, while others heard the boisterous laughter of the hundred men aboard the pirate ship.
For a fleeting moment, there was a sense of relief, as the loud, destructive shots seemed to subside. However, this respite was short-lived, as the pirates swiftly reloaded their cannons with gunpowder, preparing for another round of onslaught.
Realizing the pirates' strategy of distant bombardment rather than direct confrontation, the defenders, understanding the urgency to aid those struck by the cannonballs, they rushed towards the damaged houses in a desperate attempt to save anyone who might have survived—though, tragically, most did not.
BAM BAM
Successive shots from the pirate ship echoed through the air, decimating more houses and claiming more lives within them.
Additionally, a contingent of sixty pirates on deck received orders to seize muskets and fire indiscriminately across the island, targeting any areas where people might be present.
The island, confronted by the presence of a formidable pirate captain commanding not only an immense ship but also a multitude of crew members akin to a small army, found itself utterly defenseless. Similar to numerous others that had previously succumbed, the island was incapable of mounting any significant defense against the overwhelming force.
Those fleeing from their houses, aiming to reach the dense forest at the far end of the outer circle, were mercilessly targeted by a barrage of bullets. There was no escape, no dodging left, right, up, or down—bullets sprayed everywhere, denying any avenue of evasion.