Pirates Of The Decian Sea

Part 8

Black Jack Mulligan stomped in his boots around the deck of the Griffon. After four months of captivity, it was great to be back at sea. He spent the last three days getting his sea legs, but he was now back to his old self.

He ran his hand across the surface of the mainmast. For twenty two years, he had been captain of the Griffon. He remembered the day like it was yesterday that he took command. The Gylinian Navy had a reputation for cruelty towards undisciplined sailors, but he had signed on anyway when he turned fifteen. For five years he had worked his fingers to the bone, avoiding all punishment. Then one night, his best friend was five minutes late for his watch. The captain ordered him keelhauled. When they brought him up an hour later, the many cuts left by the barnacles on the side of the ship and made the sharks come calling. His friend was dead, with massive chunks of flesh ripped from his body. Mulligan started the mutiny, and before he knew it, the ship was his. On that night, the legend of Black Jack Mulligan was born.

"Coming up on Port Cauldwell, Captain!" the first mate called.

Mulligan shook himself out of his thoughts. "Aye, Mr. Yates! Strike the colors and take us into the port. Let's be seein' if'n the Waverunner beat us here."

The deck became a flurry of activity as the crew performed their individual tasks to slow the massive ship. The colors came down, the sails were brought down, and the rudder turned to take them into the harbor.

Mulligan pulled out his looking glass and scanned the nine ships at the docks. None of them were the Waverunner. "Looks like we beat them here, lads!"

The crew cheered.

"Mr. Yates, set course for River's End! I want someone up in the crow's nest every minute of every day until we find that ship!"