Black Sam - Prince of Pirates

Eleven - RECRUITING

 Eleven – RECRUITING

 It was a difficult trip thus far. Usually meeting strangers in unfamiliar towns was exciting business, but this particular time was different. Sam and Paulgrave had divided the remaining tasks in preparation of their salvaging expedition. Paulgrave, being the financier, went looking for a ship, while Sam recruited sailors to fill it.

 He had found success in each tavern he’d visited thus far. The end of the Spanish War created an influx of sailors without work, so it wasn’t difficult in that sense. His mind drifting toward Maria in every space-filled moment was the difficulty. He missed Maria, more than he expected to. Long carriage rides between taverns weren’t helping much. Thankfully, he had just arrived at another. It was time to clear the mind and get to work.

 Sam had received permission from the owner of the tavern to call his patron’s attention. He stood as close to center as he could guess, and rapped a pewter stein against the bar making a racket. “Excuse me gentlemen, forgive my rude intrusion. I’ll make this quick; I’m looking for experienced sailors—”

 “You’re in a tavern Mate, we’re all experienced sailors.” The comment brought a spattering of inebriated laughter.

 “Thank you, good sir.” Sam picked up a mug of ale and raised it almost in a toast. “If I thought beforehand it would be so easy to get my first volunteer, I would have simply rapped the stein, and passed the parchment.” Sam took a drink while the rest of the men laughed, “Who is next?” he asked with a foam-mustache smile.

 After more laughter, another man stood. “What is the job, and what are the wages?”

 “The wage depends on your experience, but it will be fair. You will also receive a small percentage of the gold we pull up.”

 “A treasure hunter? You expect us to gamble away a few months of our time on your hope of finding sunken treasure?”

 “I’m not looking for treasure hunters, I’m looking for sailors.” Sam pulled a leather bag from the inside his coat and threw it onto the table in front of him. “The wages are real enough. You’ll receive half upon boarding, the other half when we’re back to port.” Sam pulled out a folded parchment and placed it on the table. “So, who wants to go to sea?”

 After signing up seven men, three more waited their turn. A tall muscled man stepped forward; his face reminded Sam of a bulldog. The man looked like a fighter not a sailor, but Sam’s been deceived by looks before. “What’s your name?” he asked.

 “CuthbertObadiah, but people just call me Cuddy.”

 The man’s voice was as intimidating as his stature. “What experience do you have Cuddy?”

 Cuddy rested his knuckles on the table and leaned forward. “You name it I can do it.”

 This didn’t exactly fit within Sam’s prerequisites, but he wasn’t going to second-guess this beast, particularly on his own turf. “Excellent, sign or make your mark.” The man made an x on the parchment. “What’s to keep a man from taking that sack of coin you hold in your coat?”

 Sam stared at the man for a moment, then pulled the sack out of his coat and threw it back onto the table. “What’s to keep a man from taking it freely from this table?” Sam was ready to move if Cuddy so much as flinched. He was confident in his physical abilities, but he never was one to underestimate a man, especially when the man was much larger than he was.

 Cuddy laughed. “Put your money back in your coat, I’m not the man to take it.”

 Still on high alert, Sam remained seated. “You don’t have to convince me of that.”