A Hidden Queen

Chapter 10

It took several more hours before John was able to step onto the island of Morga. The older man stretches his limps, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. It was strange to be on land after several months at sea. His legs felt wobbly, as if they could not support him, and his head spun with the lack of movement. He knew it was the effects of being on a rolling deck for so long. But damn, if it did not feel disorienting every time he switched from his ship The Wicked Mary to the unmoving land. John groans, rubbing his temple as the spinning increased a little.

"Ye alright Capt'n?"

John turns to see another member of his crew, Tony Rogers, step up behind him. The man was another brute. He rivaled Burnt in the muscle department but stood tall at 6'3. It was odd for John to have to look upwards at the man.

"Yeah, I'm good Rogers. Just a little disorienting after being on The Mary for so long."

Rogers nods his head turning back to help the other crew members tie off the dingy. John eyes them for a second, making sure that they didn't tip the boat in the process of securing it. He watches, a bit amused, as Burnt smacks one of the younger members on the back of the head, fussing at him to watch the lines. The younger man scowled, rubbing the tender spot.

"Burnt?" John snaps to grab the man's attention. "You good to handle this and get the supplies we need? I feel like I need a drink."

"Aye Capt'n. I got it." Burnt snickers, waving his captain off.

John smiles, knuckling his hat towards his battle chief before rushing off to the nearest local pub. John was assaulted with the smell of dried vomit, boozes, and stall cigarettes as he opened the door. He stumbled back a pace as his eyes began to water with the foul smell. He exhaled, giving his senses a moment to adapt before continuing his way in. John paused in the doorway, glancing around the overly crowded room. It was bustling with people. Men drinking, conversing, and playing cards. The woman hanging all over them and laughing boisterously at every word. It was a nightmare. John thinks disgustedly. The captain shakes his head, pushing that thought aside as he walks about the crowd looking for the bar.

"I'm telling you I did it!" A nasally voice proclaims triumphantly. "I, Petite Gomez, bested the most famous pirate captain there is!"

"Petite, shut your mouth. You did no such thing." Another voice snobs.

"Yes, I did Peter! I left him! I left that no good Carter and his brat on the island!" Petite exclaimed.

John stops in his tracks as those words hit his hears. Anger rose in his chest. John clenched his fist as the man continued to carry on his conversation in a rather loud and boisterous way. John's green eyes quickly scan the surrounding area. Petite was telling a tall story; he would have a crowd around him no doubt. His gaze fixates on a large group standing in the back corner of the pub. With a murderous look, John starts his way over, listening intently to the conversation as he got nearby.

"And how exactly did you best him Petite?" A deep voice questioned.

"I left him on a port crawling with the King's Navy. I was able to convince Carter to go ashore with his brat knowing full well that his face was plastered everywhere. The good old captain went without so much as a fuss. I waited for several hours before I pulled anchor and sailed the ship right out of port."

"You mutiny then?"

"Yes. Me and several other members where able to outnumber the loyal members of the crew. It was simple if I do say so myself. And now I have one of the most powerful ships. A sleek, up-to-date, Man-of-war." Petite hiccupped.

John pushes through the crowd just as Petite slams down his empty cup. Petite was a middle-aged man with graying hair at the temples. His face was covered in wrinkles. A long scar ran across his jawline and down his neck. He swayed a bit as the newly finished drink started to affect his head. John snaps his eyes about the standing men. They gaze at him with a mixture of respect and awe-inspired fear. John cocks his head to the side, his face pulling down in a frown. He storms his way over, the men scrambling to get out of his way. John snarls at the men on the other side of the table. Their eyes grow in diameter as they set their drinks down, quickly raising their hands in surrender. Petite raises an eyebrow at the men across from him.