Cabin Boy

Pirates

We were dead, and we all knew it. The voyage had started off simple enough, a standard crossing from England to the Americas. It wasn't anything the Griffin hadn't faced before. We set sail from England two months ago, carrying cargo and passengers to the new colonies. But then the storm came. It was the worst I had ever seen, waves higher than the mast, lightning striking all around us. We lost four men overboard during that trying week, including the captain. And then just as suddenly as it came, it was gone, leaving our broken brig in a huge sea, and not a clue where we were. That is, until today. Today we see our first hint as to where that cursed storm had landed us. A pair of ships coming over the horizon, flying black flags. Pirates.
"Hoist the main sail, dump the cargo!" Jonathan calls out from the quarter deck above him. Jonathan is the quarter master, and since the captain had been washed overboard, he is currently in charge of the ship. "We can't let them catch us!"
I look behind me again, and can see clearly that the two ships are quickly catching up. I know it is a futile gesture, but preform my duties just the same, scampering up the mast and throwing out more and more of the white sheets. Then I descend back down to the deck, to assist in throwing our precious cargo overboard. As I help, I happen to pass Jack, my only real friend on the ship.
"We're done for aren't we?" He asks. Jack is a head taller than me, despite being the same age, and usually looked to be around twenty, instead of seventeen. His leathered face from years on the sea, and short black hair also added to the illusion. He is a bit full of himself, on account of his father being a British Admiral, and could be a bit of a bully. But now with pirates bearing down on us, he looks like a scared twelve year old. I look back myself, seeing that the ships are close enough to distinguish men at the bows, and two black flags flying from the top masts.
"We'll be fine," I lie, "just do your job." He nods, and runs back into the hull. I take a crate in my arms, and lug it over to the side. Straining, I tip it over, watching the splash alongside as it disappears in our wake. Then I'm thrown the the deck as cannonballs impact below me.
"Bow chasers!" Jonathan screams,"Man the gunnery stations! Load the cannons! They won't take us without a fight!" I feel the deck shudder again as more shots hit the ship. Behind, the pair of ships continue to gain, and are beginning to pull along side.
"Someone secure the passengers!" Jonathan orders.
"I'll get them sir!" I yell, and run for the the hatch that lead to the main quarters. In addition to regular trade goods, the Griffin had been giving passage to a few travelers. There were two of them, a Dutch merchant and a girl. They were civilians, and had to be warned of what has happened.
Below decks, the chaos is even more prevalent. The air smells of gunpowder and burning wicks, the roar of the cannons is deafening, but not quite drowning out the cries of the wounded. I race through the gun deck, but am thrown off my feet when a broadside ripples through the ship.
"They've boarded!" Comes a cry from above, "they're coming aboard!"
Only moments later, a dozen pirates rush down the hatches, quickly overwhelming the meager crew. I barely have the time to pick myself up before I am grabbed by the back of my shirt, and roughly yanked to my feet.
"Move ya pup," a rough voice commands behind me, and shoves me forward. I stumble up to the main deck, and brace myself for the carnage that the pirates had wrought on my ship. I'm surprised to find only a few body's, already being prepared for burial, and the majority of the crew lined up against the railing. On either side, I see the two pirate ships. Pirates are notorious for messing with specific ship class designations, and these are no exception. While both ships look similar, they are like nothing I had ever seen before. At a first glance they look much like the Griffin, but upon closer inspection, I see that the hull lines are much sharper, and the ships a little larger, making them look more like a small frigate than a brig. It is clear these are fast ships indeed. They also have many more guns than any brig has a right to have, perhaps thirty five or more to a side. However, while their shapes are similar, the two ships deeply contrast each other. One is beautiful, the paint glistening in the sun, broken only by the splintered wood still fresh from the fight. Something tells me that those new wounds would be quickly repaired. The other looks almost shabby compared to the first, with peeling paint and faded wood. But I can clearly see the ships names, beautify painted on the bowsprits.
"Wasp and Dauntless," I whisper silently, then feel a chill go down my spine when I recognize the names. The Dauntless is a name no honest sailor ever wants to hear. There isn't a ship faster, and simply stating the name of her captain could cause any brave sailor to go weak in the knees.
I'm roughly shoved into the line next to Jack, who is alive but shaking in fear. No doubt he too recognized the ships we faced. Out of everyone on the deck, only Jonathan seems unaffected. He stands tall, his blue coat ruffling in the light breeze and stares down our captors.
Finally, one of the pirates step forward. He is tall, wears a long red coat that is accented by gold buttons. He looks to be around twenty five or thirty, but it is hard to tell because of the large black beard that covers most of his face, giving him a threatening air about him. Adding to that feeling is a pair of pistols strapped across his chest, and a long cutlass buckled to his side.
"I be Captain O'Connors," the pirate tells us through a heavily accented drawl, "Captain of Wasp, and ye be my prisoners!"
I breath a sigh of relief, glad that as terrifying as the situation was, we didn't have to face down the captain of Dauntless. The sigh catches in my throat however, as a shrill scream pierces the air. I look to my left, where two pirates roughly drag a young girl from the hold, mercilessly laughing at her futile struggles and whispering obscenities in her ear. I instantly realize that it must be the girl who had booked voyage on our ship, and a sense of duty comes over my that I couldn't explain. Perhaps I was still in a bit of shock and wasn't thinking properly, or maybe it was the obscenities I could hear them whispering to the admittedly beautiful girl, but I leave my spot in the line, and run straight at them. I shove one over, who lets go of the girl, and pick up the fallen cutlass. The second pirate seems shocked by the sudden intervention, and doesn't react until I punch him in the face with a powerful right hook. He falls back, and I place myself protectively in front of the fallen girl. Only when I see the two pirates stand back up, one with a bleeding nose and murder in his eyes, do I realize the cost of my mistake. I raise the cutlass in defense, knowing full well that I am dead when they start moving towards me.
"ENOUGH!" A voice roars, silencing the entire deck. I glance at the source, and my blood runs cold. The deck clears before the man, pirates and crew alike, as he steps down from the Dauntless. He is tall, taller than O'Connors, and wears a long coat similar to Jonathan's, but a deeper blue and much more expensive. Like O'Connors, he has a sword buckled to his side. He wears a tricorn hat, with a red feather stuck inside the brim. His face is weathered and covered with a short grey beard, making him look more like a kind grandpa than a pirate. But that doesn't diminish the fear in my heart, for it is a man who's description I easily recognize from the stories of terror old sailors told each other. He walks slowly up to me, the heel of his boots making loud hollowed sounds in the silence that dominates the deck. Coming within a pace of me, he draws his sword. In the back of my mind I recognize the sword as a sabre, similar to a cutlass but more suited for fancy swordsmanship than the average buccaneer was capable of, with a gold hilt and a tiny jewel in crusted in the pommel. The blade shows heavy use, but is in perfect condition showing it had been taken care of by a loving hand. But none of that properly registers as he draws the blade and points it at me. He slowly slides it down the side of the borrowed sword shaking in my hand, the two blades making a scraping noise that I think for sure would ring in my ears for the rest of my life, however long that was.
"Do you know who I am?" He asks quietly when his blade reaches the hilt. His voice is soothing, flowing like water, with the slightest trace of an Irish accent. He sounds well educated, despite his profession.
"You're Mad Ben Crowley," I say in a quite voice, conveying both horror and admiration.
He smiles, then with a quick flick of his wrist, I am suddenly unarmed, the sword that was in my hand only moments ago skirting across the deck. I jerk my hands back, but freeze instantly when I feel the cold prick of steel on my neck.
"What's your name boy?" He asks. The smile is gone, but in his eyes is the slightest trace of...... amusement?
"W-William," I say quietly, very aware of the sword tip pressed against my neck, "William Hartmann."
"And what were you planning on doing with that cutlass young Hartmann?" He asks me, the small smile returning as he pictures a small untrained boy fighting off two pirate crews.
"I- I don't know sir," I say honestly, "I was just, uh, over come with an urge to, ah...." I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence.
"An urge to what? Take on fifty blood thirsty pirates by yourself? Perhaps you have a death wish," he says, pressing the blade a little harder against my throat.
"No sir, not a death wish," I choke out, shaking my head as vigorously as I can without cutting myself. He glances behind me, looking at the girl lying in a crumpled heap, who stares back up at him in fear.
"Was it her?" He asks, gesturing towards the girl, "was it that you saw her being attacked by those men, and your honor demanded that you help her?"
I hesitate, not sure what to say. A quick prick in the neck reminds me what's at stake, and I nod quickly.
"Hmmm, well then," he mutters, sliding his sword back into its scabbard, "it seems that I have a use for you mister Hartmann." With that, he turns away from me and I start breathing again. Even as I gasp for breath, my eyes follow the mysterious pirate as he strolls across the deck.
"You are simple merchant sailors, and did nothing to warrant my personal wrath. By all accounts, this crew fought valiantly," Crowley says aloud, turning towards the crew of the Griffin.
"Particularly you," he continues, nodding at Jonathan, "and so, I offer you all a choice. This is a fine ship, and I intend to keep her as well as her cargo. Now, between O'Connors and myself, I believe we would have the men to crew her. That said, I also believe it would be beneficiary to all if we had some experienced hands aboard to guid her." He pauses for a moment to let his words sink in.
"I offer you a simple choice. Join myself and my crew, and we will take you under our wing. You will have the same rights as any other crew member, and an equal share of the loot."
"And if we don't join you?" Someone asks. Crowley just shrugs.
"Then we will be regrettably be forced to maroon you. I do hope that doesn't happen."
There's a moment of hushed whispers as my crew decides what to do. Finally, Jonathan steps forward.
"We've decided to accept your terms," he says," on the condition that I remain quartermaster of the Griffin."
Crowley absorbs the information, then nods.
"Alright ye scaly wags, twenty of you remain here and keep order. The rest of ye get back aboard, set sail for the Moonlit Isle!" O'Connors yells, then makes his way aboard The Wasp.
The crews launch back to their stations, Griffins original members a bit hesitant to work alongside their captors, but the pirates don't seem to mind. I suppose they're used to it. I start to walk towards my station when I hear Crowley give another set of commands.
"Bring the girl aboard Dauntless," he says, then makes direct eye contact with me. "And bring the boy too."