A Siren at the Helm

Chapter VIII: Rescuing a Pirate

Esteban lazily opened his eyes. The first rays of sunlight were not peaking above the horizon yet. As he sat up, the clinking of empty rum bottles sounded beside him. Lethargicly pushing them aside, he rubbed his temple. His head felt as though he had been run over by at least four carriages, even thinking hurt. He decided that he would try his best not to think unless absolutely necessary.

Some of the previous night was a blur, but other pieces vividly stuck out between the mess of memories. Unfortunately, the parts that he remembered were the ones that he had wanted to forget. Esteban was humiliated. He had been a pirate for fourteen years, and yet an inexperienced, pesky, fishermansgirl had beat him in one of the things he did best.

Upon getting back to The Vengaza, he had been informed that not only had all their efforts been in vain, but that he had lost three men in the process. The crew had been very unhappy. At one stage he had feared mutiny, but luckily Bloom had managed to calm them. After that he had returned to his quarters and drowned his cares in the drink. Rum was the only thing that soothed him nowadays. When no one cared the bottle was very friendly indeed.

He sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Esteban supposed that he should get going. He started by tidying both himself and the room, the latter of which was in quite a state. There were a few things that lay in pieces (Esteban did not know how that happened) and rum bottles and corks were scattered across the bed.

When he had donned his day trousers, his boots and his button up coat, he started searching for his sword. He had decided that they needed to loot a ship as soon as possible. He would need his cutlass for that, only he could not find it. He searched under the bed, between the bookshelves and behind his desk, the only places a sword like that would likely fit. It was nowhere. Out of desperation he even searched in the less likely places, in his desk drawers, in the bathroom and in his nightstand. Still he could not find it. Of course he had other swords, but this one was special. He contemplated asking his crew if they had seen it.

Then it struck him. It was probably still wedged in the crack in that rock on the island. After his fight with Amina he had forgotten to take his sword. He cursed himself for being so thoughtless. If only he had bothered to take it. He knew that he could use other cutlasses, but he wanted this one.

He walked out of his cabin. If he was quick enough, he could be back before anyone noticed. He would get his sword back, they would plunder a ship and everyone would be happy. Knowing how challenging the terrain was on that side of the island, and the lack of anything important located there, Esteban was confident that no one would be around.

After making his way down the steps from the helm, he started lowering one of the dinghys into the water. As the sun had only just started rising, most of his crew was still asleep. The only people above deck were Bloom, Tiny and Peter. Out of these the only one who might question him was Bloom, and he would understand once Esteban explained, unlike some of the other men aboard the ship.

A lesser man would have thought that he was running away. After losing a valuable captive (twice) and three of his men, that he was abandoning all hopes of piracy. Esteban huffed. No, he was most certainly more determined than that. He just needed his sword. Its value to him was greater than the money he would have gotten for Isabella two times over.

Just as the dinghy splashed into the water, he heard a voice behind him. "Cap'n?" It was Bloom. He could barely think of the man and he would appear.
"I have left something valuable on the island. You are going to make sure that nothing goes wrong until I get back."
Bloom snorted, "What the singer? We noticed." Esteban stared at him warningly. Bloom looked down, "Sorry Cap'n."
"Just keep The Vengaza anchored and don't let the crew... do anything." Esteban was not exactly sure what his crew would "do" to get themselves in trouble, but he was sure that they would think of something.
Bloom chuckled knowingly, "Aye, I'll keep me eye on 'em." He frowned, "Cap'n, maybe ye should take some of the men with ye, just ta be safe."
"I will not be long, and besides, after last night I do not think that those villagers will go out of town. After all that fighting there's bound to be some damage to be repaired. Everything will be fine"
"If ye say so," Bloom shrugged. "If ye don't mind me askin' what exactly is it that ye left there?"
Esteban paused after letting down the Jacob's ladder. "The sword."
Bloom's face flashed with recognition. He knew exactly which sword Esteban was talking about. "I see," he nodded. Bloom knew that Esteban had lost a fight the previous night, though not exactly against whom. He had decided that it would be better if no one knew he had fought Amina.
By this time Esteban was half way down the ladder on his way to the dinghy that lay bobbing in the water.
"I will be back in an hour. Tell the lot to swab the deck while I'm gone or something," he said, giving Bloom one last look before climbing down the rest of the way. He then picked up the ores and started towards the island.