To be a pirate or a king's man?

Chapter 6 - Keelhauled

Chapter 6

Sam woke in a prison cell, presumably in the Stormprow' s brig. He shared the cell with the other survivors of the Duchess of Kent. Only about ten, including Captain Jones and Jeremiah Flint had made it. "What happened?" he asked, sitting up slowly. One of the men that Sam didn't know spoke, "Morgan Half-face happened. He took us captive, took the Duchess' cargo and then scuppered her. He said he had a special plan for us, some sort of test, and told his crew that as many of us as possible were to be kept alive. They took your mate, James and he's been gone for half an hour or so."

Jeremiah was groaning and Sam looked to him. The shot that had taken him in the left shoulder was unclean and splintered. "Oh, God." he said, "Unless there's a doctor on board, Flint's gonna have to lose his arm."

The door to the cell opened and James was thrown in. He was stripped to the waist, only wearing breeches and soaking wet. He had cuts all along his body and face, some were small scratches, but most were three or four inches long and one was diagonally across his face from right temple to left jaw, through his nose and right eye. He had been roughly bandaged and the deeper cuts were cauterised, but the scars would stay with him for the rest of his life, assuming he survived his injuries. Sam looked with horror before the men who had thrown James pulled the rest of the crew and James to their feet. One man took James away down to the ship whilst another few ushered the rest of the men up the steps to the ship's first deck and then up again to the poop deck.

 As Sam rose, the sun glared until his eyes adjusted and he was met with a horrible sight when they did. A man in a dark red coat trimmed with golden cloth turned to face him. The man had knee-high black sea boots on, each buckled with steel straps up the outwards facing side. Dark black breeches were on his legs and a black sash with flecks of gold in the fabric was tied around his waist. The sash carried a pistol on the right and a long sabre on the left. A black cross strap went over his chest, carrying four more pistols and was fastened with a golden buckle over his sternum held the two diagonal straps together. A second long sabre hung from his back, its sheath fastened to a cross strap so that the hilt was over his right shoulder. A large black tricorn was on his head, but what was most unusual about him was what lay under the hat.

 The entire right side of his face was covered by a steel mask. The mask ended perfectly down the centre of his face. A finely shaped and polished red ruby glinted like fire from the empty eye socket, surrounded by a golden trim. The mask was decorated with raised steel showing the features of a face; a steel ridge covered half of his nose and a narrowing line of slits ran from the centre of his mouth to where the mouth would usually end if he had had a normal face. Sam noted a thin line separating the top half and the bottom. It's hinged like a jaw, he thought. The mask looked aggressive, no doubt to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies and make them quail at the sight of him. The ruby added to the anger shown in the mask, giving an aura of evil fire lurking behind the cold exterior of the mask.

The other side - the left side of his face - was quite handsome. He had dark black hair, lightly tanned skin and a shapely face. A clean shaven jaw was sharply ended at the lower end and a high cheekbone under laid his left eye. The brown eye focused on Sam, looking through him as much as on him. Sam shuddered. "Welcome to the good ship Stormprow!" exclaimed the Captain, the jaw of the steel mask moving with his real one as he spoke with the voice that had told the Duchess to surrender and had also saved Sam's life, "My name is Captain William George Morgan, also known as Morgan Half-face, and I will be your host this for little trip. I trust that you weren't too inconvenienced by the accommodation, I'm sorry that any better is reserved for members of the crew." The captain gestured towards the crew that was assembled on the deck, who all roared laughing. "Unfortunately, we are a bit overcrowded at the moment, and new additions to the ship must pass a little, shall we call it a test? Put simply, all new recruits must survive a keelhauling if they wish to serve. I could, however, be lenient with you and simply accept an oath of fealty and a small token of loyalty. Are there any takers of this offer?"