Hades's Revenge (9 page)

“What’s going on?” William said, falling to
his feet from his bunk.

“Not sure,” he replied as he was shouldered
by a passing pirate. He reached out and grabbed a young sailor of
maybe sixteen and asked, “What is happening.”

“Thar be another ship closing in,” he
answered.

“Why were there no bells or commands?”
Jessop asked in confusion.

“Calm waters like these, the sound would be
a carrying. Better to let the attacking ship think it has the upper
hand, don’t ye think?”

“Most assuredly,” Jessop said understanding
completely. “Come, William, grab your sword and pistol.”

“I do hate this part,” William admitted as
he gathered his things and ran with the masses to his station.

They were met with a salty breeze and the
rest of the men hunkered down, trying to be hidden by the sides of
the ships. He and William fell into form and took a post at an open
spot near the stern and looked over the edge of the rail.

There a few hundred yards off the starboard
side was a beautiful ship of pristine white sails coming on fast
and spotlighted by the full moon. Spread across the vessel, tiny
lanterns moved around with small black shapes attached to them,
looking like fireflies floating and darting on a warm summer
evening.

The
Revenge
kept her sails stowed as
if it and its crew were peacefully sleeping on the lull of the
rocking waves and completely unaware of the encroaching danger.
Could they really think they had the element of surprise on
attacking a pirate ship?
Jessop thought. Fortunately, the
Revenge
did not have its colors up for all to see. That was
usually the case when they were on the attack—better not to
announce you’re a pirate when patrolling waters overrun with
incoming British boats.

Jessop loaded one of his two pistols and
drew his sword. He adjusted his baldric since the weight of it had
changed and kept his eyes on the enemy. He could hear his father’s
voice in his ear reprimanding him for engaging to fight what was
clearly the Royal Navy with its blazing red cross and white ‘X’ on
a field of blue. It was going to be a long night.

Jessop heard movement everywhere, above in
the rigging, below where the cannons were being moved just shy of
their position after loading and the ‘zing’ of swords on either
side of him being unsheathed. He felt the adrenaline rise within
him and his senses were on high alert.

William was pulling an axe from his baldric
and Jessop saw the silver metal glint in the moonlight as he
twirled it around in his hand. “Be safe, Will,” Jessop said.

“I’ll do my best. Good luck to you, Jess,”
William replied.

William saw the cannons one by one appear
from their gun ports and with his small telescope he noted the red
uniformed men gathering to the sides of the ship with
HMS
Merriweather
painted on the hull. The man at the helm wore a
black hat adorned with white swan and ostrich feathers. His sword
was drawn and held in the air like some kind of statue or monument
declaring its triumph. As they pulled parallel to the
Revenge
, his hand dropped, signaling whistles, bells, and
commands.

As if being orchestrated by the enemy, the
pirate flag went up, revealing to all what the British were drawing
into. For every shout on the
Merriweather
, there were two
from the
Revenge
—a volley of shots, screams, bursts of
light, deafening booms, and smoke.

William and Jessop popped up from their
hidden place, grabbing a rope dropped from the rigging men and
sailed across the gap of water between the ships. The same happened
from the
Merriweather
.

Men fought valiantly sailing from one ship
to the other amidst the whistling of bullets, shrapnel, and cannon
balls. Some even engaged in sword fight as they glided through the
air, and quickly the water between the boats was bloodied and
littered with bodies and maimed survivors.

Jessop kept an eye on William when he wasn’t
battling for his life, but William was able to hold his own, fling
his axe this way and that as ably as Jessop could swing a
sword.

Bodies rained from the sky as two cannon
balls linked by a length of long chain careened into the navel
ship’s main mast, wrapping around and slicing through more than
half of it.

Splinters of wood shot every way catching
Jessop’s forearm as it raised to come down on an officer’s
shoulder. In that split second of hesitation, the officer raised
his firearm and shot Jessop, grazing his cheek and taking a piece
of his ear before Jessop buried his sword deep into the officer’s
neck.

Grunts of waning strength and cries of pain
wafted above the creaking of the main mast. The weight of its now
tattered sails was too much to bear, and as it snapped like a twig,
it took the other masts and rigging with it making a mountain of
rubble on its once gleaming decks.

A fire raged, and a few brave souls
continued fighting for the king, but only for moments, then yells
of victory from his pirate comrades rang the night.

Though the battle was over, the work was not
done. Pirates swarmed the deck of the
Merriweather
chopping
rigging and putting out the fire. If they couldn’t keep the boat
from capsizing due to the sails being weighted down with debris and
water, all would be for naught. Jessop learned his brethren were
just as mighty and diligent at this task too.

Four men worked feverishly at cutting down
one of the masts keeping the others from going overboard while
others pulled at the ropes.

Once the ship was secured from capsizing,
they rushed into the bowels to pillage what they could from the
storerooms. The boat would soon be a new decoration for the bottom
of the sea along with them if they did not hurry.

They formed a line of men from the storeroom
to the deck. Long boards were secured atop the rails between the
two ships as men scurried back and forth like rats carrying goodies
to their holes.

Top priorities were firearms, gunpowder,
food, and water. Cannons were tied to ropes—men hoisted them to the
Revenge
with the help of pulleys. Those not injured too
badly were hard at work.

When the sun peeked its lazy head above the
horizon bringing light once more to the hemisphere, all the men
were back on the
Revenge
and the
Merriweather
sank
silently below the waves into the depths of an unrelenting
ocean.

Debris drifted around floating bodies that
occasionally disappeared with its ship. It was a sad sight to watch
and brought back images of the
Victory
and her demise to
Jessop as he looked over the water. He didn’t like to think about
the death that came with such a battle, but he was thankful to have
survived another horrible ordeal.

William patted him on the shoulder bringing
him out of his thoughts.

“You’re a bloody mess, Jess,” William said.
Jessop reached for his ear, feeling the pain in his arm where the
splinter still laid, and pulled back a wet, red hand.

“I suppose I am,” Jessop answered
matter-of-factly.

“Let’s get you looked at,” William said as
he guided Jessop to see O’Donnel and get him bandaged up.

With the added weight from the cache taken
from the
Merriweather,
they pushed the maximum displacement
capacity, therefore the captain announced they would be pulling
into port where they would offload their booty. It also gave the
men a chance to heal from any injuries incurred from their latest
battle and have a little down time.

This was Jessop and William’s first time at
being invited to participate in leave with the rest of the crew and
William was looking forward to it. Jessop was more intrigued by how
the disbursement of items worked and where it was going. That’s
when he made the mistake of asking Fin.

Fin was in charge of all the cargo brought
onto the ship and unloaded off the ship. The morning of leave, Fin
had a table set up near the gang plank with his journal, quill, and
ink and another leather bound book that seemed to be some sort of
receipt or accounting book.

“Looks like a lot of work,” Jessop noticed
as he walked past the table to leave the boat.

“What’s it to yous?” Fin snarled.

“Not a thing, just wondered if you needed
help,” Jessop offered.

“Not from the likes of yous,” he said
brusquely.

“Where does all this stuff go? Do you store
it? Or Sell it?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Andrews,” Fin
said curtly.

“I’m sorry. Is it a secret?” Jessop ignored
Fin’s growing anger.

“Tweren’t none of yer business, Andrews.
Thar’s a code we pirates live by and one of them thar is to not be
askin’ questions that don’t concern yous. Just keep yer nose clean
and do as yer told. Asking too many questions will be gettin’ yous
the dead end of me sword.”

“A code? I was unaware. How does one learn
these codes? Is there a book somewhere? Or a list?”

Fin forced a most unpleasant smile. “That
would be a might bit useless since most pirates are an uneducated
bunch, unlike yerself,” he said brazenly.

“Right. Then how can I learn these codes?”
Jessop pushed.

“By keeping your mouth shut and your ears
open, lubber,” Fin growled slamming his fist into the table and
knocking over the inkwell.

William grabbed Jessop at the elbow and
pushed away from Fin and his table and to the gang plank to the
dock.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
William asked as the two of them fell into the crowd of men making
their way into town.

“No. I’m just curious,” Jessop said looking
over his shoulder at Fin who was eyeing him and wiping up the
spilled ink.

“If you keep it up, Fin’s going to squash
you like a bug. He already doesn’t like us, can we try to stop
pestering the gorilla and enjoy our first leave off the ship since
we were taken hostage?”

“I suppose we could do that. Besides with
all the drinking that will be going on, I’m sure someone’s
inebriation will answer the questions I have,” Jessop said.

“You’re kind of stubborn, aren’t you?”
William added.

“You might call it that, I like to think of
it as inquisitive and persistent,” Jessop said.

“Call it what you will, but an idiot is
still an idiot, no matter what you call him. Be careful about what
you ask and who you ask, for my sake.”

“I will do my best, Will, but I’m not
guaranteeing anything.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Jessop said with a slap
on William’s shoulder and a big smile. William could do nothing but
laugh out loud at Jessop and his philosophy.

“Let’s get a room at the Cock and Bull,
before they are sold out. Heard they have the best food and
pretties barmaids in town.”

* * *

Due to the high volume of men on leave
flooding the tiny town, five to six men shared a room for those not
looking for company of the female kind. William and Jessop took up
a room with a few of the crew they knew and liked better than
others: Stubby, who had a few partial fingers; Toothless Tom,
though to be fair, he did have teeth, just not any in the front;
and Jolly Jim, who was always a happy soul, hence the name.

Once that was out of the way, the men made
their way to a table to have something other than stale bread,
fish, or something that had been preserved in salt for months. Jim
had been right in suggesting the good eats. William and Jessop ate
their fill and then some. Stubby and Tom were bent on becoming as
drunk as possible.

The room was warm and comfortable. William
had complained about being cold for months on the ship, but today,
he admitted to finally having warmed the chill that had been in his
bones for more than two fortnights. Each took turns up in the room
taking a much needed bath.

Jessop couldn’t ever remember leaving such
filth behind in a tub since he had fallen in Bog’s Creek with Jacob
when they were boys. Though bathing was nice, redonning dirty
clothes defeated the purpose to some degree.

When he joined his fellow men downstairs,
William, Jim, and Stubby were playing a game of liars dice, to
which Stubby was undeniably winning. Men stumbled around barely
able to walk from boozing as well as getting accustomed to the
ground not rocking on a normal basis.

Jessop had noticed this himself and had
tottered a couple of times over nothing. After months on a ship,
land-legs took a little adjusting, but the alcohol helped, or at
least that’s what Jessop told William, which made William drink
more.

Jessop listened in on a conversation of
Fin’s lackeys going on about this and that. He was not a happy
drunk and was loud, obnoxious, and voicing his dissatisfaction with
the captain’s treks back and forth from the west coast all the way
to Greenland.

“What are we? Kiddies on a swing?” Squid
said as his head bobbed in a ‘U’. “West coast, east coast, west
coast, east coast. What be the purpose of all this folly?” The men
around him grunted in agreement, some sounding angry.

“An’ why are we stopping in here, on Diamond
Island, every time we pass. I’m thinkin’ the captain is double
crossin’ the crew—selling items and not sharing the profit withen
us,” he went on. An affirmative aye and more grunts followed from
his audience.

One of the men agreeing with Squid blurted,
“What’s he doing o’er thar past the bluffs?”

“I think he’s ’avin ’imself a woman shacked
up in them woods.” A hoot of hollering laughter rolled through the
men at the table.

“Secret meetin’s. Unknown whereabouts. It
smells of monkeyshine ta me. If Fin was the cap’in, we’d know
what’s what.”

“Yah!” someone said slamming his stein down
sloshing out its contents.