Captain Vane's lament

Chapter 1

Havana 1718

It was early evening on the island of Havana, The air was hot and heavy It had been a particularly beautiful day that day but now there was very little in the way of air and what breeze there was did little to quell the Caribbean humidity

The San Salvador tavern was packed to the rafters that evening, situated not far from quayside, seemed every able seaman and sailor had head there for liquid hydration and company, albeit lewd company at times. A popular tavern with the locals and visitors alike it was a spit and sawdust kind of place, sparsely decorated, probably due to the fact that fights were common place and furniture was often smashed.

The bar was located at the end of a dimly lit brick built room with the opposite end open to area of decking where patrons could drink under the stars.

The Jackdaw had moored up several hours beforehand and all crew had taken advantage of the short planned downtime before planning to set sail again the early next morning.

You sat at a long battered wooden table with a large number of the lads, The crew, as always were in high spirits, as was usually the case when alcohol was introduced.

"Cap'n joining us tonight, Mr Adewale Sir?" Asked Smithy pulling his tankard up to his wide toothless smile and taking a long drawl from it

"I don't believe So Mr Smith, he's got business with some gents in Havana this evening" Boomed Adé, his size and stature seemed to tower over the other men sat around the table.

"Business eh!" Retorted Smithy with a knowing smile, you watched as remnants of ale slowly rolled down his chin, he wiped them onto the back of his sleeve

"Reckon we should have toast for Kenway anyway lads" he shouted across the table.

"AYE!" The crew cheered and lifted their tankards, toasts amongst the crew of The Jackdaw were common practice, they generally gave a toast to just about everything, it gave them more excuse to throw alcohol quicker down their necks

You lifted your tankard and took a large gulp down, you felt a slap on your shoulder from one of the lads

"Good on yer lass" he offered up laughing, you smiled and took another gulp.

It was difficult to hear properly what the others said to each other over the roar of the drinkers, you glanced momentarily around the room drinking in its atmosphere.

Sailors sat arm wrestling each other, whilst others waved money over their heads shouting and jeering each other on, wenches sat on gents knees happily being taken advantage of, in the far corner a group of sailors danced their jig to another playing fiddle.

Your attention was snapped quickly back to the door as it swung suddenly open, there in the doorway stood Charles Vane and Jack Rackham accompanied by a number of their crew behind them. The roar of chatter and laughter hushed somewhat as drinkers stopped to see them making their entrance.

Charles Vane was a fearsome character, a loose cannon some might have said. There wasn't any soul in the Caribbean who didn't know who he was or had heard of his reputation, more often than not any dealings with Vane concluded badly, very badly.

He stood for a moment in the doorway seemingly scowling as he surveyed the room, Vane was a large man of stature, not particularly stocky but he was tall, he wore a long dark weathered coat, the collar, the brightest of reds stood tall against his stubbled jawline. Lifting his pipe to his mouth he took a long drawl on it before taking a step inside the tavern.

"Make it Rum Rackham" He growled to Jack as he walked through the crowd towards the table you were all sat. Jack sauntered off confidently towards the bar tender.