Poseidon's Guide: The First Adventure // #Wattys2018

Chapter 17

Edward entered the Captain's Quarters, his personal quarters. It hadn't seemed all that personal during the recent few weeks, nothing on his ship did. Was it even his ship now? Or did it belong to Angelina for leading them to it, or Maryanne for discovering it, or Charles due to Edward's blind promises? Edward shoved those thoughts aside, the annoyance of having no privacy was trivial in comparison to their other problems. Angelina, Benjamin, Maryanne and Edward all gathered around the mapping table to plot out their course.

"So, what be our next action?" Edward asked without greeting.

Angelina said, "First we need to determine where this island is, my grandfathers coordinates aren't specific..."

"What do you mean, they aren't specific?" Edward asked.

"The coordinates are specific to a certain location, but not specific to the island itself. We're not looking for the island in the book, we're looking for some kind of sea..." Angelina flicked through her grandfather's tattered leather journal. "He never kept things simple, my grandfather, for safety he scattered all of his notes... We only have a large portion... They're even written in this weird language that escapes my tongue..."

"Is the portion large enough for you to locate the 'sea'? We're contending with the entire British Armada on our tails and that little surprise your old Captain sprung on us has our down a few men and a ship." Maryanne summarised.

"We have more numbers than before with Charles' crew behind us, but they're not all that trustworthy." Edward replied. "Especially not with their ruthless captain tied up to a mast like a common prisoner."

Angelina flicked through her grandfather's journal, looking for something. Edward and Maryanne continued to scuffle over their numbers and even the remaining food and other supplies. Benjamin remained silent. His 'expertise' wasn't in piracy, tactics or mythical islands. Until Edward asked what moves George Hadly may have up his sleeve, Benjamin's presence was pointless. Angelina paused on of the pages to the journal, placing it on the table before reaching for the one she recovered from Ponta Delgada and flicked through that one, hurriedly.

"Benjamin. How many ships does the good Commodore have again?" Edward asked Benjamin, intercepting his careful observation of Angelina. Benjamin looked up at Edward, unaware of his previous question. "Do I need to ask again?"

Benjamin was a solid man, still built from his time in the Navy. He wasn't skinny, bony or pale like the other pirates as of yet. His hair was black and cut short, his chiselled face was slowly accumulating stubble to match. His eyes were same colour of hazel as majority of Edward's crew. Edward took note of each man's eyes, a small hobby of his. Of course none had mesmerised him more than Maryanne's emerald jewels stuck to a face as of yet.

"Apologies, your question alluded me captain." Benjamin replied honestly.

Edward snickered. "No need to speak to me so formally lad, I'm not the good Commodore." Edward paused. "Ah, that was my question: how many ships does he have at his command?"

"From last count, around forty to be exact. The British Armada is still the most feared presence on all the seas, yet with George's reckless attacks in recent years there's... Been a fair few sinkings of the Commodore's ships."

"That's far too many! If they all came up on our stern, we'd last minutes! Maybe even less Edward!" Maryanne spat, the captain ignoring her. "I sure as hell hope you have some idea of what we're going to do!"

Benjamin pulled up a chair and sat on the table beside Angelina, who was now sketching on a piece of parchment. What she was doing, was far beyond his comprehension. Edward also took up a seat, still dodging all of Maryanne's questions like sword swipes.