Not likely.

By the moonlight, you can see at least a dozen ships cutting through the water towards you, as large and almost as well built as your own Seahawk.

I cannot win this fight, you quickly realize. These pirates handle their ships well. They will be almost a match for your own soldiers, and they outnumber your ships four to one. You might be able to hurt them, make this victory too expensive for them to repeat, but you have no real chance of actually winning the battle.

You turn to your signaler. "Give the order for the caravan to scatter," you say. She nods and puts her horn to her lips, blowing the sharp three-note sequence that tells the merchant ships to flee into the ocean. You and your fellow two warships will try and keep the pirates busy while the merchant ships scatter and flee. Hopefully most will make it to safer harbors.

You scan the incoming ships again. "That one," you say after a moment, pointing. "Third from the left, with the red eagle on its sail. That's the leader."

"Kyrie," you add over your shoulder as you dash towards the front of the ship, "You have the tiller." Kyrie is the pilot, it's better to leave the steering and the rowing to her. Your job now is to command your marines, do what damage you can with your bows and swords, and hope to sell your lives dear enough to make a difference.