Black Stones

A New Cabin Boy

"Sail off the starboard bow captain!" The lookout cries from the crows nest. I take my spyglass from my pocket and peer out to sea. I find the ship quickly, and size her up.
"What are we dealing with?" Ann asks next to me.
"Looks like another brig," I say, "two masts, full sails, doesn't appear to have many guns. My bet is she's trying to outrun us."
I put the spyglass back in my pocket, and look at Ann. It has been seven years since I met her, and her beauty only seems to grow with age. Even if we hadn't officially married in a church, we had both pledged ourselves to God and each other, and besides the Dauntless, she is my most precious possession. When my temper ran high, or felt myself fall, it is always she who keeps me sane. She is my steady rock, who keeps me anchored in the storm of life, and I thank God for her daily.
"Are we going to take her?" Amos asks. His English has gotten much better over the years, and he has grown up from the small timid servant to become a powerful African warrior, one of the best fighters on my ship.
"Yes," I say finally with a smile, "I think we will. The Silver Reef was running a bit low on rum last I checked, and that can not be tolerated!" I myself can't stand the vile spirits, preferring instead the tea Ben always drank, but know the prospect of new liquor would invigorate the crew. They give a hearty cheer in response to my choice.
"Hoist the colors!" I order, and watch with pride as the black flag is hoisted high. In the center, a golden Phoenix glistens beautifully, accented by the red circle I had added behind. Some think it's a setting sun, others say a rising sun, and others still say that it's a blood moon. But the crew of Dauntless know that it's Mars, my silent tribute to Mad Ben Crowley and his final fight.
We chase the brig down for nearly an hour. Her crew handles her beautifully, but in the end, nothing can out run the Dauntless. Cannons boom, muskets fire, cutlasses drawn, and soon we are aboard. We take the ship with minimal blood shed, most of the crew surrendering without a fight, with one exception.
"Ann," I say, looking at the last resister, "you have the helm. I think I'm going to deal with this one personally."
I walk down the length of the ship, then go across to the captured brig. On the quarter deck, five pirates surround the last sailor, about to end the fight with shear numbers.
"ENOUGH!" I roar with a volume that contradicts my still young face. The pirates back off, parting before my steps like the Red Sea for Moses. Before me stands a boy, around sixteen. He's bleeding from a cut on his side, but he holds the cutlass in his hand defiantly. At least, until he sees me. Then the blade tip starts to waver, and a look of pure terror covers his face. I draw Ben's old sabre, which I had kept as my own, and run the blade down the length of his.
"Do you know who I am?" I ask, giving the boy a grin a crocodile would envy.
"You're Captain Heartless," he stammers out. I sigh inwardly at the name. It had been a simple misunderstanding with my last name, lost in translation somewhere down the line, but I suppose the name gives me a certain menacing aura. With a quick flick of my wrist, I send the boy's cutlass across the deck and press the point to his neck.
"What is your name?" I ask finally.
"Benedict," he chokes out, "Benedict Hale."
I stare at him for a long while, before sliding the sabre back into my belt.
"Take the cargo," I say to my crew, "give the prisoners the custom choice and maroon any who who don't join. And as for him," I finish, glancing at Benedict, "take him aboard Dauntless. I think I've found a cabin boy."

"You're really thinking about making him a cabin boy?" Ann asks as we watch the brig sink. It is a wasteful event, and I hate to watch any ship sink, but it is necessary. Still, I feel a cringe of pain as I watch the beautiful ship slip beneath the waves.
"Yes, I am," I tell her, "he is confident, cool, and already has decent knowledge of the blade. He also has a great deal of courage if he was willing to continue the fight after the rest of the crew surrendered. Finally, he has an air around him. I don't know how to explain it, but I just have this feeling that he could be great."
"Ok, if you're sure about it," she says skeptically, "but if the kids gets killed on his first day, I'm not cleaning up the mess."
"I doubt that will happen, unless he touches Smitty's rum," I chuckle. I had made that mistake myself when I was a cabin boy, accidentally mixing Smitty's private stock into the food, and to this day I have never seen the fat man so mad.
"Besides," I continue, "there isn't a mister Saltin aboard to make life unpleasant either."
"Don't remind me of that brute," Ann shudders.
"Trust me, I try to forget as much of him as possible," I tell her, as I think about the crude pirate.
"Well, have fun teaching," she says, placing a kiss on my cheek before strutting away. I stare after her, wondering how I ever go to be so lucky, before heading to my quarters. I walk down from the quarter deck, sliding my hand down the rail, feeling the warm wood beneath. The Dauntless is my pride and joy, and I relish every moment aboard her. Finally, I reach my quarters and step inside, opening and closing the door without a sound. Inside, Benedict stands near my desk examining a time piece. It is something I snagged off a French gentleman a few months back, and it is a beautiful little thing. Looking at young Benedict now, I am reminded of how I looked all those years ago, carefully inspecting the sabre that now hangs at my side. I look in the small mirror hanging on the wall near me, and think about how much I've changed since then. Gone is the small skinny boy of 17 who first boarded the Dauntless seven years ago. In his place stands a twenty four year old pirate, dressed in a fine blue coat that drapes all the way to his knees, red sash and black belt around his waist. A black tricorn hat rests on his head, covering a red bandana and brown hair that still retains some of its stubborn curls. I smile, and he smiles back at me, gaining back a bit of that boyish look. Turning from the mirror, I look back at the young boy intently examining my time piece.
"Beautiful little thing isn't it?" I ask, and nearly burst out laughing when he spins around, dropping the watch on the desk and stares up at me in terror.
Surely I'm not as terrifying as this kid is making me out to be, I tell myself, completely forgetting my similar reaction when I first met Old Ben.
"Captain Heartless!" He exclaims, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Oh don't trip over yourself apologizing," I say, waving his panic aside, "no harm done. And just call me Will. Now Come, sit at the table."
I pour myself a cup of tea, and he sits down opposite of me. I put my feet up, calmly sipping tea as I study him. He is an average height, with long sandy blonde hair. His stature conveys a sense of pride and bravery, and I have the feeling that he isn't used to feeling afraid.
"Tell me about yourself Benedict," I say finally.
"Why?" He asks hesitantly, not sure what my motivation is.
"Because I like to get to know my prisoners before using their guts for chum," I say, chuckling at my own joke. Benedict obviously doesn't find my humor quite as funny, and his tan skin goes white as a ghost.
"You're going to what?" He stammers out, eyes darting from me to the window, as if calculating if he could jump off the ship before I could rip his heart out.
"Whoa whoa," I say, putting my hands out in a calming gesture, "I was only joking. I swear to you, no harm will come to you today. Now please, tell me."
He stares at me for a while, until deciding that whatever I have planned couldn't be made worse if I know about him.
"I'm from Bristol," he says finally, "been there my whole life. My father worked in the ship yards, and was able to get me a job as a deck hand aboard a brig. Been sending the money I make back home to pay for my sisters medication, she's very sick ya see. And sir, if you don't mean to kill me, I beg of you to drop me off at the nearest port. My sister needs that money sir."
I'm struck dumb by the statement. It isn't at all what I was expecting, and watching him flinch away as if I was going to kill him right then because of what he said, makes me realize just how brave this young man is. I stare at him for a moment, then put down my tea and stand.
"Alright," I say, "if that's what you wish, then I won't stop you. I can't promise you when we will next be in port, but you will be allowed to leave when we do." I casually walk over to a chest near my bed as I continue.
"Then again, you could also stay here, as my cabin boy," I say casually, leaning over to search the chest, "you would be well fed, treated as an equal member of the crew, and learn much more than any simple cabin boy would learn in a different situation." Finding what I was looking for, I walk back to him.
"You would also be entitled to a share of any loot we take," I tell him, and placing a large bag of gold on the table, "consider this a forward payment."
He stares at the sack of gold, which is probably more money than he'd seen his entire life.
"Why?" He asks simply. I walk over to the wall and lean against it, looking at the young boy intently.
"Because I see something in you," I say, "something that could lead to greatness. Your care for you sister only reinforced that thought, and it shows a lot about how you are. I'd like a chance to bring you to your full potential."
"So you want me to be a cabin boy?" He asks, not understanding.
"You'll figure it out eventually," I chuckle, "in the mean time, you can start by getting acquainted with Smitty, the ships cook."
"What if I don't want the job?" He calls out as I leave.
"Then you can take the gold, and leave at the next port," I tell him, "until then, you will get a taste of what being a cabin boy aboard Dauntless really means. But for God's sake, don't touch Smitty's rum!"