Bloodtide

Part 47

"Is everybody here?" One of the pirates at the head table shouted, his voice carrying over the crowd.

Before anyone could respond, the opposite doors swung open with a slow, ominous creak. The room fell into a hush as Davy Jones strode in, his entrance commanding the attention of everyone present. His movements were deliberate, confident, as if he owned the very ground beneath his feet. A smug smirk played on his lips, his eyes glittering with a kind of dangerous amusement that made my breath catch in my throat.

"Ay," Davy Jones laughed, his voice deep and resonant, and the room erupted in cheers, the tension melting away into raucous laughter. The energy shifted in an instant, the pirates welcoming him like an old friend, their camaraderie palpable.

I stood there, blinking in confusion. The change in atmosphere was so sudden, so overwhelming, that I didn't know how to react. But before I could make sense of it, my eyes were drawn to the figure that walked in behind Davy Jones—a familiar face that made my heart skip a beat.

"Henry!" The name escaped my lips in a relieved whisper, barely audible over the noise, but I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. He was alive.

Henry's gaze met mine, and he gave me a small, reassuring nod.

But it wasn't just Henry that caught my attention. As I glanced back at John, I noticed the way his expression softened, the tension easing from his shoulders as Davy Jones approached. When Davy Jones clapped a hand on John's shoulder, grinning broadly, I glared at their closeness, one thing about pirates you can never understand them.

"Glad to see you made it out alive," Davy Jones said, his voice warm with genuine affection. The smirk that had seemed so menacing before now felt almost... friendly.

"You doubted me?," John replied, his tone lighter than I had heard it in days.

Davy Jones turned to me as I sent daggers into his soul. "See, she's still hanging on," he laughed, but it wasn't funny.

"And you're still barely walking," I shot back, my gaze drifting pointedly to his wooden leg.

His mouth formed an "o" of mock surprise before a huge grin split his face, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth. "I like you, laddy," he barked out, his laughter echoing off the wooden beams above us. It was a rough, grating sound, like a rusted anchor being dragged across the deck. With a final chuckle, he hobbled to his seat at the head of the table, his peg leg thudding against the floor with each step.

One by one, the other pirates began to take their places around the long, scarred table. John slid into a chair near the end, his eyes unreadable beneath the brim of his hat. The men exchanged glances, their earlier laughter fading into something more serious. I remained standing with Bonham and Bo, watching as the room gradually fell into a heavy silence.

As the last man settled in, the air seemed to thicken, tension crackling like a storm on the horizon. Davy Jones leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the faces gathered before him. The grin that had played on his lips moments before was gone, replaced by a hard, calculating expression.

"We've all heard the tales," he began, his voice low and gravelly. "The king's sent his hounds after us, lads. His navy's scourin' every inch of the sea, huntin' us down, one by one. They're takin' our waters, takin' our lives. He wants to make the seas his own and rid 'em of the likes of us."

A murmur rippled through the room, the pirates shifting uneasily in their seats. The reality of Davy's words hung heavy in the air, the threat of the king's forces looming over them like a dark cloud.

"They say he's got a fleet like none other," Bonham whispered to me, his voice tight. "Ships bigger than any we've seen, and cannons that could blast us out of the water before we even get close."

"That's not all," Davy continued, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Bloodbane is working for him."

The room fell deathly silent. Even the creaking of the ship seemed to stop as the weight of Davy's words settled over the crew.

"That traitor!" one of the crewmen shouted, his voice dripping with venom as he spat the words into the salty air, his chest heaving with anger.

Bloodbane... that name I remember that name! John and I passed, remembering how his ship took down an entire fleet my body began to shake

Davy snarled, slamming his fist on the battered table with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit cabin. "This sea is ours!" he bellowed, his voice echoing the fury of a man who had nothing left to lose. "We were born of it, we live by it, and by Ol' Davy, we'll die fightin' for it if we have to!"

A chorus of gruff agreements rumbled through the room, though not all voices were as steady. The men were hardened sailors, each with their share of scars and stories, but the shadow of Bloodbane and the king's navy looming on the horizon cast a pall over the usual bravado.

John, who had been sitting in the corner, finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying a weight that silenced the room. "We can't beat Bloodbane."

The tension in the room thickened, a few men shifting uneasily on their feet. Davy's eyes flicked toward John, a flash of anger crossing his face. "And what would you have us do, John? Run with our tails between our legs? Hide away in some forgotten cove while that bastard claims our sea?"

One of the younger crewmen, his voice wavering with fear, piped up, "Maybe John's right. Bloodbane's not just any pirate—he's a demon, a ghost. No one's ever faced him and lived to tell the tale. Maybe it's better to cut our losses before we all end up at the bottom of the sea."

"Cut our losses?" Another man, scarred and weathered by years of battle, spat on the floor in disgust. "You might as well hang up your sword and start mending nets if that's your thinking! I've fought worse than Bloodbane, and I'll be damned if I let fear turn me into a coward!"

The room erupted into a heated argument, voices clashing like swords. Some men, faces pale with dread, whispered of retreat, of finding a way to slip past the navy and Bloodbane's wrath. Others, fists clenched and eyes blazing, were ready to fight, to face death rather than surrender an inch of the sea they called home.

Davy's voice cut through the chaos, his anger barely restrained. "Enough! We've bled together, fought side by side, and I'll not see us apart by fear!" He glared at John, challenging him to speak, to offer a plan.

John met his gaze but said nothing, the weight of his silence speaking volumes. He knew the danger, knew the odds were against them, but he also knew that words wouldn't sway men already set on their course. The choice was theirs, and the consequences, whatever they might be, would follow.

Davy's lip curled in a snarl. "Fine. If anyone wants to run, there's the door. But know this—if you stay, you stay to fight. We face Bloodbane, and if he's as deadly as they say, then let him know he's met his match."