The Pirate's Legacy: New Horizons

Chapter 33: The Stench of Revenge

Oh Henry stood in the helm, hunched over a table upon which lay an entire map of Politicka. Next to his gloved left hand were a compass and a piece of charcoal. Near the top right corner of the table stood a red bottle full of rum. Black lines on the map revealed paths which the Goliath had already taken. Dotted lines indicated possible routes to sail. Oh Henry raised his head when he heard some of his men on the main deck below greet Michael Turnbull. He watched the blond pirate make his way toward the single grand staircase that led up to the helm.

"Good morn, Mr. Turnbull!" Oh Henry said as the yawning blond pirate reached the bottom of the staircase. "How did you sleep?"

"Terribly, with Matt Colosi's arse in my face," Michael called up. He wrinkled his nose as he climbed up the staircase. "Albeit, I am grateful I no longer wake up with sand in my mouth."

Oh Henry threw his head back and laughed. His slightly rotund stomach shook. "I would give you a cabin of your own if I had more room."

Michael stopped in front of the map table across from Oh Henry. "Don't trouble yourself on my behalf, either way. I'm thankful to the gods that you were there to save us."

"The pleasure is mine," said Oh Henry. "Mr. Turnbull, Polides reports that we passed Saltwater Island during the night."

Michael looked behind Oh Henry. Manning the great steering wheel, the pirate captain's first mate nodded at him. Polides was a bald man in his late thirties whose entire body, from head to toe, was covered in black tattoos. Michael exhaled deeply after his attention returned to Oh Henry. "We're almost halfway through."

Oh Henry placed his gloved finger on the map where his ship was located. They were sailing currently in southern Politicka, heading toward the center of the large city-state nation. Nearly two weeks had passed since Oh Henry picked up The Jolly Roger's survivors. The ship had not stopped once since then. With the winds behind their backs, the pirate captain kept his ship running at full speed throughout the day and into the night. To avoid the Wall of Death, he and Michael agreed that taking the long way around it was in their best interests even if their chosen route slowed them down. Using the tip of his finger, Oh Henry traced two dotted lines from the point of their current location. One line went to Helaine, the capital. The second longer line cut through the islands and ocean straight to Pirata. Looking up at Michael, Oh Henry asked if they would stop by Helaine to supply and call the pirate captains.

"No," said Michael. "We must make course straight to Pirata. I'll send the message out on our next rest stop, but that'll have to wait once we get out of southern Politicka first."

Oh Henry raised his eyebrows. "Any particular reason to withhold the call?"

In a dark voice, Michael said, "There are too many Portunus supporters in the south."

"Ah, understood," said Oh Henry. "I have one caveat to that plan." He raised a finger. "We will stop at Swiftling Island. Before we save Pirata, my guns must be full and ready, and so must my men and myself."

When Oh Henry offered his gloved hand, Michael took it. " 'Tis an accord," the blond pirate said.

Oh Henry grinned as he let go of Michael's hand. Straightening up, he grabbed the bottle of rum and took a swig from it. He offered the bottle to Michael, but the younger man declined with a shake of his blond head. "Eh, your loss," said Oh Henry before he drank again. "Gods' love, the weather is getting warm," he exclaimed. "I haven't felt heat like this in ages." The heat almost made the Politickan pirate long for his boyhood days on his family's vineyards. Oh Henry pulled himself out of his musings to ask Michael, "I wonder if Calypso won?"

Michael made a face. "If She did, I would still be making my way to Pirata and liberate it from the Draconians. 'Tis my home, not Hers."

"Aye," said Oh Henry. "You should never leave a job to others if you can do it yourself, is what I always say." Over Michael's wide shoulder, Oh Henry noticed the queen of Tarym emerge from the hatch. Her royal pedigree, however, did not present itself in the slow pace that she wandered around the main deck or in her appearance. Her short hair was a tangled mess, and her clothes were in tatters. Unlike Michael, who attempted to look presentable by shaving his overgrown beard that morning, the queen of Tarym had not bothered to even wash her face. Despite her sex, and the fact that Oh Henry's men had not seen or felt a woman in a fortnight, the sight of the wild-looking queen repelled the men. Perhaps their superstitions about women at sea were at play as well, and her misfortune was easily transferable like a disease. Whatever the reason, they made sure to give the queen of Tarym a wide berth as she passed by.