The Scourge - Pirates & Privateers

Chapter 25: Celebration

Lieutenant Colbert led Emily onto the HMS Petra, then called to the first mate to bring up the prisoner. Her heart sank when she heard the word prisoner, and she held her breath until she could hear the rattle of chains rasping against the oiled wood.

A silver-haired man in a grubby shirt, stained brown with sweat, and great purple bruises over his jaw, ambled up the gangway like a creature returned from death. When he raised his silver-blue eyes and saw the girl before him, his pale face lit up and he gasped with joy.

'E-Emily? Is that you?'

Emily cupped her hands over her mouth and dashed away her tears.

'Yes. It's me, Father,' she couldn't help herself. In spite of all propriety, she leapt for the elder man and wrapped her arms around his midriff. She muzzled her cheek into his chest, the acid of his sweat burning her nostrils, but she held tight to him regardless. 'I-I'm so glad to see you. I was so worried.'

'Oh, my girl. My sweet darling.' His strong arms cloaked her shoulders and he pressed his lips into her soft, now exceptionally greasy, curls. 'There was no need to worry about me, silly. I would have been fine.'

'I found the cylinder, Father,' Emily beamed. 'I was bringing it to the trial to prove your innocence.'

'You found it?' Mister Ealing pulled away from his daughter and held her by the shoulders. 'But... where did you...? Oh, that's not important. Come here.' He pulled her back into his chest and the two of them wept into each other's arms. 'I'm so very glad you're safe. What happened? How is it that you come to be here?'

'That's a question I'd love to hear the answer to in detail.' Lieutenant Colbert said. 'And I would be delighted if you would entertain us both with the story over dinner.'

'How do you mean "Us both"?' Mister Ealing's silver-grey brow furrowed.

'Well, in light of recent evidence that has come to light,' Lieutenant Colbert brandished the cylinder. 'I would say that the charges against you, Mister Ealing, are likely to be dropped. Which means, by the powers I've been granted, you're free to go.'

A pair of soldiers shouldered their muskets and drew a pair of keys between them. The shackles clattered to the deck, and Mister Ealing stood weighing his freedom and rubbing his chafed wrists. His face brightened like the dawn, which made him appear twenty years younger than before, and he put out his arms to embrace his Emily again.

'Thank you, my darling. Thank you.'

'Like I said,' the Lieutenant cleared his throat. 'I would be delighted if you both could join me for a spot of supper. It's a rough compensation for what you've endured, Mister Ealing, but I'm sure it will just be the start of reparations. What do you say? Miss Ealing?'

Emily opened her mouth and was ready to accept, but then the wind dropped and she heard a cheer.

She turned her head to follow it, where she was met by the crew of the Scourge fetching up a case of wine they had found in the hold, which they broke open and poured among themselves. They embraced each other like brothers and passed around the cups. She saw Mosi pull the cork from a bottle with his teeth, then spat it into Ulrich's face, which startled the one-eyed gunner so much that he jumped and tipped his tankard, dousing his shirt in wine. The men around ripped into roaring laughter, and Emily suppressed a giggle, struggling not to join in.

Then, Martin and Schleckt re-joined the ship, where they were met with great cheers. Martin was swept into Doctor Cotral's embrace as Jennes and Jacobi passed the two men a bottle each.

She looked upon those men, whom at the start of her long journey, were little more than floating vagabonds. But now, whether she liked it or not, she was one of those vagabonds too. She knew that, should she choose to board that ship, there would be a bottle waiting for her in the hands of those mad men, welcoming her like family would. There would be time in the future for fine dining again, but she only had until they made for England to drink like a crewman of the Scourge.