Fantasy and Myth

Forbidden Cargo

"What in Blazes is that doing aboard my ship?" Captain Swanson demanded, pointing his cutlass toward the collection of chests piled in the cargo hold. Made from dark wood and held together with bands of grey iron, the six chests were large enough for a full grown man to hide inside, if he didn't mind being cramped.

"We found 'em in an old shipwreck beached by the tide," first mate Bristol answered. His left eye was squinted tight, but his right was wide and fixed greedily on the chests.

"I told you we were stopping here only for water and meat," Swanson reminded, the tone of his voice and its measured pace showed his attempt to control his temper. The tip of his cutlass thudded against the deck, biting into the worn plank. "Nothing else was to be taken aboard ship. Nothing!"

The last word came as a shout, drawing the attention of the crew on deck through the open door behind the two officers.

"What's the difference, Cap?" Bristol asked with a shrug. "We had the time while the hunting party was out. Since when do we turn our back ta' treasure?"

The cutlass swung up to press its cutting edge against the underside of Bristol's jaw, and an increase in pressure drove him beck against the wall, nearly knocking down one of the oil lamps.

"I'm the Captain!" Swanson roared. "I give the orders on my ship! Put those chests back where they came from now!"

Swanson lowered the blade from the throat of his second in command only long enough to use his free hand to grab Bristol by the upper arm and shove him toward the boxes.

"Giles, Cutter, Raines, get in here!" Swanson bellowed. The three pirates called by name rushed into the hold. "Put those chests back."

The three men looked at the Captain in puzzlement, but when Swanson tightened his grip on his sword, causing the tip of the blade to rise and catch the moonlight coming through the open door, they abandoned all questions and scrambled to carry out the order.

"Why be 'fraid of some rightly took gold?" Bristol tentatively asked. He massaged his throat a moment before helping carry one of the chests out.

"That gold is cursed," Swanson told him, never taking his gaze off the chests as they were dragged toward the rail. Suddenly, the Captain spun around, staring at the island before focusing on the sea. The thick tangle of jungle trees had gone still and silent, and the ocean was a black mirror under the full moon with not a ripple showing. Swanson's next words were a horrified whisper. "It's too late."

The entire ship jolted sideways as something struck it below the waterline. The pirates were thrown to the deck, those falling from the rigging didn't survive the impact. Those still alive clamored back to their feet while the stillness of the night was torn apart by splintering timbers. The ship lurched again, this time being dragged toward the deep.

"Abandon ship!" Swanson ordered as loudly as he could. He didn't wait to see if any obeyed or even could obey as he sheathed his sword and bolted for the rail. Ignoring the lifeboats, he grabbed a rope, swung over the side of the ship and dropped into the ink black waters of the bay. Swimming for only a brief distance, the shallow waters near the shore let his boots find purchase, and he waded as fast as he could toward the relative safety of dry land.

Behind him, the crew struggled to follow. Two dozen tentacles exploded from the sea in clouds of white spray, wrapping around the mast, hull, and any people in range. Pirates were dragged screaming from the deck and silenced as they vanished under the water. The sea beast applied pressure to the ship as if intent on squeezing it down to the size of an apple, wood groaning in protest before giving way and breaking apart.

Only a third of the crew made it to shore. Five of them, including first mate Bristol, were grabbed when tentacles probing the beach underwater exploded out from under the pirates in great eruptions of sand. The prehensile limbs wrapped around the pirates like snakes before dragging them away. With one last great heave, and a growl that was more felt than heard, the beast pulled the pirate ship under the water and was gone. The sea became still once more with only ragged pirates on the beach and floating driftwood to signal what had happened.

Swanson scanned the beach, taking inventory of those who'd survived. Beyond them, he beheld the twisted and broken remains of the shipwreck originally containing the treasure chests. He walked over to where the tides had washed it ashore, some of his men followed to see what their captain was interested in.

"See here?" Swanson asked the nearest of his men. He tapped the hull with the tip of his sword, the metal of the blade ringing softly with each impact. Even in the moonlight, sucker marks could be seen on the ancient wood. "This was the last ship that tried to take the cursed gold. Legend tells of a monster who guards this island and the treasure it hides. Any who try to steal the gold are doomed to be hunted by the beast until they're taken below the waves and consumed."

One of the pirates nearby saw a coin sparkling in the sand and started to reach for it, but then hesitated before slowly backing away altogether.

"This ship is a mess, but it's all we've got," Swanson declared. "I want it searched from bow to stern. Make sure there's none of that gold still onboard, not a single coin. Once we're sure of that, we'll see what we can do for repairs. Hopefully, we won't be trapped on this island too long."