Quintspinner - A Pirate's Quest

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

"What have we here?" the giant bellowed. William stared up at the mountain of flesh approaching him. He had never seen so large a man. With skin the color of darkened wood, and thick greasy strands of hair as black as coal streaming from underneath a red bandana, the First Mate towered over William. The giant's eyes were small and piggish, with irises so dark that they seemed one with the man's pupils. The eyes of a demon! William stood frozen to the spot in the shadow of the bulk before him, with only his nostrils twitching involuntarily at the foul body odor wafting from the man.

The giant scowled and his thick black eyebrows knitted together above his bridge of his nose. William stared, transfixed. The eyebrow hairs seemed to be moving of their own accord, shifting and undulating with the busyness of the lice which had taken up residence there. In fascinated disgust, William watched as small, wiggling specks fell from the giant's head and face, their tiny bodies plunging to certain death onto the deck below.

"Answer me ya' snot-nose or ye'll feel me lash lickin' ya', by God ya' will!" the giant roared, breaking William out of his trance.

"He's Mr. Taylor, Sir," Smith broke in. "He's new. Brought on just 'afore we sailed, Sir!"

The ebony eyes swiveled and fixed on Smith. The First Mate's mouth pulled back in a frightening scowl, showing a few remaining stained and blackened teeth, listing in their sockets, separated by gaps, protruding from reddened, oozing gums. The man's tongue was swollen and blistered, and each exhalation carried out the fetid smell of rot. "D'yer thinks I'm talkin' to you? Or is this one here mute? Eh? Is that it? 'Cause we've one gimp aboard already and that'll be more than enough to care fer the shitpots!" He raised the fist clutching the whip's handle and let the coils slither to the deck. He drew his arm back and glanced at the length of rope as it followed his pull. "I bet my sweet one here could make him talk." In an instant William clenched his eyes shut and stifled a scream in his throat, as he prepared for the slash of the whip's knotted ends to slice open his shoulder's skin.

"Mr. Rogers!" A voice boomed out from the quarter deck. The big man's arm froze in mid swing. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Sir," the voice continued, "but I hold it to be more prudent to get some work out of him before you strip the flesh off his bones, don't you agree, Mr. Rogers?"

William's eyes snapped open and he scanned the quarter deck for the source of the commanding voice. There, standing tall and imposing, at the railing, was a man, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, legs slightly astride. The blue jacket he wore was fastened up the front; its gold buttons glinted in the sun. His hair was neatly pulled back and hidden under the brim of a tricorn hat, it too, as blue as the man's eyes.

"Well, Mr. Rogers? What say you, Sir?"

The first mate scowled and his jaws clenched in defiance. "Aye, Cap'n," he grunted, but his gaze fixed on William like a snake about to strike its prey. "Aye, Sir, she'll wait a'right," and he slowly and methodically recoiled the whip, caressing the coils as he gathered them up in his calloused hands.

"Mr. Smith!" the captain continued, "Has your charge signed to wear the King's coat yet?"

"Not yet, Captain Crowell! We was just on our way, Sir!"

"See that it's done then. And, Mr. Smith, see that he is put to good use as soon as possible."

"Yessir!" Smith stood stiffly upright, his long gangly arms held straight at his sides.

"You, Sir," Captain Crowell nodded at William, "What's your name?"

"Uh, William Taylor ... Sir." It seemed natural, necessary even, to William, to address this man as 'Sir'.

"Do not fail me, Mr. Taylor, in any of your endeavors upon my ship, for I would not like to be shown to have been wrong in my immediate judgment of you, and Mr. Rogers to have been right." And with that, Captain Crowell lifted his head and resumed his watch over his wooden domain from the raised sights of the quarterdeck.

"C'mon!" hissed Smith as he jerked roughly at William's sleeve. William could hear the anger shaking Smith's voice. "Do ya' have a death wish then?" Smith propelled William ahead of him with a hard shove. He herded William through the throngs of sailors, towards the ship's office and the log book awaiting William's mark. "There's no honor dyin' at the end of a cat-whip, boy! Ya' want pain? Ya' want to have yer own blood spillin' yer life down yer back? Do ya'?" Smith's eyes narrowed into a hard glare. "Well, save it fer the fightin' ahead! She's a small Navy ship, just a ten-gunner, this one, that's a fact, but Cap'n will not use her size or quickness to outrun troubles. He's not one to back down from anythin'. Ye'll see! Ye'll soon be fightin' fer King and country, boy, ya' see, and that at least, offers an honorable death!"

Smith's rant was cut off by a chorus of frightened, angry shouts which shot up through the companionway from the deck deep below them.

***Apologies for cutting the story off at this point. I have had it here for a few years and I am now marketing it in KDP Select on Amazon which prevents more than 10% of the story to be published anywhere else other than Amazon. If you'd like the read the rest, it's available on Amazon with a new title of Pirates of Blood Bay Island. Cheers!