Riara in Morocco

Chapter One Part 2

Hey guys! I'm not completely happy with this part, but hope it just passes. Anyway, I may look at it later and fix it a little if I get ome time. As said before I may continue with the story, but has been challenging to get time to write these days, even though I think of writing most of my day lol. Anyways, hope you been all well!

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Blackbeard. The Night before the storm.

Under the silvery glow of a full moon, Edward Teach stood tall, gazing up at the constellations of stars in the clear night sky, his arms crossed behind his back. The ship rocks gently on a calm ocean, and the breeze caresses his skin lightly like a fresh sheet of silk. 

There are men still moving onboard, along the upper deck, some counting the wealth from the day’s plunder, a couple trimming the sails, and others celebrating their day, drinking spirits. 

Blood stains the wooden boards, recounting they’d had casualties that evening, and the boards still needed to be washed down. Teach’s heavy black boots tread on the same spot he’d last seen Jensen… the young lad Teach had come to befriend, and who’d later died in battle as a result of the raid. Teach felt a sting of pain… he’d stood there reflecting how he’d promised the young boy the dream of treasure- a world of gold for all his men, only for him to lose the boy that very day. 

“Aye, Cap’ain, all be ‘lright?” a lieutenant appears by his side. “They be waiting for you in your quarters.” His face hardens with concern.

Teach purses his lips back, nods his head once, and un-crosses his arms from behind his back, pulling at the cuff of his sleeves. “Tell ‘em II be there- just ‘ive me in a minute. ‘ave the men plotted course?”

“Aye sir. They be. But they be questioning the navigation, sir…” the burly man pauses for a second, worry creasing his face. “They be askin’ bout ya intention on the Inlet… if it be right ting ta do.”

Teach growls at his questioning of his orders, and he turns slowly to face his lieutenant with a fierce gaze. “Word has it Rogers and his men of war be ‘ere by dawn- an’ ya question me orders? Would ye like to be hung… or even betta yet- ya prefer ta be flogged ta death?… Eden promised of ‘is pardon, an’ we shall take it- takes advantage of his stupidity.” he tisks. “Of course, unless ya prefer face execution, is that what they be proposin’?” he almost laughs, menacingly.

“So, what you say, Cap’ain- we give up ‘en?” his eyes widen with maddened disbelief. “We surrender. What does that say to the men? You be Blackbeard, sir, ‘tis can’t be ‘ow-”    

Teach pulls out his sword, and advances toward him quickly, placing the pointed blade to his throat. “Remember your place, boy.” he snarls. “You seem ta ‘ave forgotten yar place.” he sneers. “There be about three hundred men on board this ship- what ashame to ‘ave to replace a man in high rankin’ such as ya self.” he warns, grinding his golden teeth. The man gazes back, horrified. 

“Yes… sorry, sir.” he gulps. When Teach relinquishes him, eventually pulling his sword away, the man scurries away. Teach turns and wanders back over the creaking wooden floor board in long determined strides toward one that is slightly raised from the others. He lowers onto a knee. His large scaled hands, worn from all his battles, pulls open a wooden latch beneath the timber floor boards, exposing what had been held inside… his most treasured possession on this ship… a lavish silver box with held memories of her… Aiukli… the most beautiful woman he’d ever set his eyes upon… a native from a tribe he’d encountered off the coast of the southeast… she’d had a wild spirit he’d never encountered… so free on land… the woman he’d hope he would one day see again.