Hades's Revenge

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Hades's Revenge Page 5

by Tolles, T. Lynne


  “What might we be a callin’ you, lads?” the captain asked.

  Flabbergasted by the cordialness of the captain’s demeanor, Jessop fumbled over his words. “Jess…” he lingered as he thought about what he would reveal to the captain then continued. “Jesse Andrews,” he finished glancing at William hoping he’d go along with the fib.

  “Uh, I’m William Rees.”

  “It’s good to be meetin’ the both of you. I expect ye might be a bit confused why yer living while yer fellow crew are feeding the fish,” he said petting the still squealing wretch of a hog.

  “It’s a right fare question ye pose since pirates like ar’selves are not well known for ar’ kindheartedness. However, once in a blue moon we come across lads such as yerselves an’ offer ’em a spot on the crew. If ye be refusing such a kindness then bones is what you’ll be after I slip a few feet of steel in your gut and have yer friend chained to the keel. What say you, lads? Ar ye with us or against us.”

  William spoke first as if the words shot out of his mouth. “I’m with you, Captain.”

  All eyes were upon Jessop. A pirate? What kind of life would that be? He did seem to have the knack for life at sea. Of course with the choice being death by pirates bent on torture or life aboard the Revenge, it wasn’t really a choice at all.

  “Yes, I’ll join your crew.”

  “Aye. That would be the better of yer choices, now. Mark me words, lads, if’n ye be thinkin’ of jumpin’ ship when we make land, I will hunt ye down and I’ll show ye the color of yer insides. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Captain,” William blurted out followed by a “yes, sir” from Jessop.

  “Just so we are on the same page, if’n me ’n the crew don’t take a liking to ye, we’ll be killin’ ye—seeing how’s a pirate gives no guarantees. Agreed?”

  William and Jessop nodded.

  “Bloody Harry will show ye where yer bunkin’ and servin’ up some chores fer ye lads,” the captain said as he nodded to Fin to release them from their cell. “Top of the day to ye, boys,” the captain said petting his pig and turning to leave. After Fin opened the squeaky door, he followed the captain, while Bloody Harry Cash stayed behind, arms crossed and assessing the landlubbers who stood before him.

  * * *

  “What be yer trades, ya scallywags?” the gruff man with a horrible scar across his cheek and fearsome glare asked.

  “I worked for the cooper and the carpenter on the Victory.”

  William was standing beside Jessop looking incredibly intimidated by the ‘Victory or Death’ tattoo scrawled into the man’s skin below the head of a pirate garbed grim reaper.

  When he didn’t answer the man, Jessop said, “and William is very apt with armory and rigging.” William responded to the statement with a nod of affirmation. Harry scratched the stubble on his chin as he eyed William suspiciously.

  “Ya don’t say. Well, we best be gettin’ ya squared away with some supplies and I’ll be showin’ ya yer quarters.”

  Many eyes followed William and Jessop as they made their way from the bowels of the ship to the deck. Snickers and whispers combined with disapproving glares were heard behind them. It was apparent to Jessop that taking on crew from a recent plunder was not customary and it was going to take some doing for this crew of deadly men to approve of them. They’d have to do something pretty spectacular to earn their respect or they’d always be looking over their shoulders in fear for their lives.

  The ship itself was older and more worn than the naval ship, but it had its beauty too. There were more finely carved accoutrements in its detailing but most importantly, as they had learned during the battle, it was as fast as the wind. Like the ship, the crew was dirty and worn, but strong and lethal just the same. Jessop thought he might have to use his fighting skills sooner than expected by the looks they received. When they were alone, he would mention to William to keep his knife handy at all times. He may need it to defend his life.

  They came to the galley, where a man who was as wide as he was tall was known as Beans. They were quickly introduced which ended by Beans tossing them a sack each. Supplies or rations, Jessop thought, but before they could open the bags to see what had been given to them they were off walking once again. They passed through a corridor or two and entered a large work room of sorts with tools hanging everywhere from beams above. A very tall lanky man was hunched over a workbench tinkering with something they could not see from their vantage.

  Harry announced, “Woody, these men have been recruited by the captain from the royal navy ship. They be claim’n to know a thing or two bout carpentry and metalwork.”

  “Do they, now?” the thin man retorted in a rogue Scottish drawl. “We’ll be seeing aboot that, won’t we, lads.”

  Jessop nodded and made a quick glance towards William who looked terrified by the towering red-headed man with an enormous ruddy-gray mustache that almost hid his entire mouth. What worried William so was the very large chisel the man held in his fist like a dagger ready to be thrown their way.

  “Me name’s George McDonnel. Most call me Woody as Blewdy Harry duz for me trade. You kin call me McDonnel til’n we get better acquainted. What do yous two go by?”

  Jessop said, “I’m Jesse Andrews, but you can call me Jess if you like. This is my mate, William Rees.”

  “Sir,” replied William.

  “Jess and William, aye. Seems the captain’s takin’ a shinin’ to yous. I’m guess’n near on four years, since he’s done such a thing, wouldn’t ya say, Blewdy Harry?”

  “Aye. That’s about right,” answered Cash.

  “Lucky lads yous is. Lucky indeed,” McDonnel said.

  “I best be showin’ them their quarters,” Cash said.

  “Aye. Be seein’ yous both on the morrow, lads.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Jessop said and William mumbled the same.

  Chapter Seven

  Again they followed Bloody Harry through the narrow halls of the ship’s middle until they came to a room full of hanging hammocks. They zigzagged through the maze of empty and manned burlap beds until they arrived in a far corner where there was one empty and a grumpy looking pirate in the hammock next to it.

  Harry said, “Horace, time to move yer carcass.”

  “Why? This ’ere’s my swing.”

  “No longer. ’Tis Mr. Rees’s now. Knowin’ y’all, these here lads need to be stick’n together for protection,” Harry responded to Horace’s disgruntled whine with a stern eye. Horace removed himself from the hammock, gathering a few items then made his way to a hammock near the far wall next to a snoring man, smacking him on the forehead as he passed saying, “Shut it, Jack!”

  William turned with a jerk to Jessop with a look of terror at Harry’s comment. Jessop only raised an eyebrow to William in response.

  “I’ll be taking leave of ya now. Best be getting some shut eye,” Harry said to William and Jessop.

  All those awake in the dark stuffy room had their eyes on the intruders and it made the act of getting comfortable and sleeping almost impossible. Despite the exhaustion, Jessop and William felt from the day of battle and the unsettling state of their lives at the moment, they lay wide awake well into the night jumping at any stir of inhabitants around them.

  The seas too seemed to feel their discontent and answered them with the oncoming of a storm. The frigate was tossed between swells as if volleying between two angry teams, each trying to show they were the most powerful making the ship their punching bag. Nary a soul onboard wasn’t feeling the stirrings of nausea in the pit of their bellies—even the well-seasoned old salts passed on eating the next morn.

  Aching and worn out from the sleepless night, William and Jessop headed up to the deck to find the way lined with men sour-faced and staring. Intentional bumps and tripping made it almost impossible to pass. Once they did, Horace stood on deck with a strong arm of men around him, giving William and Jessop no way out but straight for Horace. Both men stopped in fr
ont of him arms crossed before them and dreading whatever was to come next.

  “I trust y’all rested up, for we ’ave a wee task that needs doing. Since yer the new’ins on the ship, the task’s be fall’n to y’all,” he said with a toothless smile.

  The ship listed hard beneath them with the rolling waves so high one could not see the horizon when caught in the trough betwixt two crests. It was an eery feeling, but the least of their problems at the moment.

  Next to Horace, two men carrying ropes came forward, knelt and proceeded to tie their ankles. Another hard lean to the port side and William stepped backwards out of his ropes to keep his balance, where as Jessop’s rope bearer had already formed the knot and yanked it hard using the force of the rocking to tighten it. Jessop caught himself from falling by grabbing the side of the boat giving him a terrifying view of the deep trough they were headed down in to. Holding on for his life, his rope friend extracted one of his hands shoving a rusty dull shucking knife into his palm.

  “Fear not yer task at hand, might be a bit more dangerous on a day like today then another, but y’all be fine,” Horace started as Jessop was slung onto the rail by two men and teetering on his stomach trying to balance himself.

  “Tiny, here, will be holding yer rope while you scrape barnacles from the water line,” Horace said pointing to a frail looking man with a grin of blackened teeth holding the rope that was attached to his ankles. He looked as if he could barely carry his own weight let alone a man of Jessop’s height and build of nine and a half links and a stone shy of two hundred weight. Jessop could see William wrestling three men trying to tie his ankles at hearing what was to be done with them.

  “Days a wasting…” Horace said signaling with a hand gesture to heave Jessop over, but the ship shifted in Jessop’s favor in time for a bellow from behind to be heard by all.

  “What’s this? A barnacle crawl on a day as such? Horace, yer cruel heart will be yer death one day,” the captain acknowledged petting the squealing pig tucked under an arm. The boat lurched sideways suddenly knocking his arm into the rail and shooting the pot belly pig into the abyss of water below.

  The arms that held William and Jessop all but disappeared as the men’s attentions were on the beloved pet that suddenly emerged from the depths only to be swept out of sight over the crest of a waiting wave. Jessop quickly turned to William and said over the roar of the sea, “Take my rope and hold tight.” With one swift move he tossed the dull knife away, grabbing a sure to be sharp blade from a nearby pirate and cut his ankles free. He grabbed the rope that William held tightly and leapt into the water after the next cresting wave and the pig.

  “Salty…” the captain shouted as all watched from the rail.

  William wrapped the rope around his waist and watched with the others for them to appear once more. The tiny pig was squealing but losing the battle of staying afloat in such a turbulent, foamy sea. Jessop was swimming furiously but making little progress. Glimpses of the two came and went while the pirates held their breaths each time the figures disappeared behind a wall of water.

  William released more rope to Jessop. When man and pig were spotted, Jessop was an arm’s length from the pig, but the pet went under and the crest blocked their view once more. When the ship met the crest of the next wave, neither of the two overboard were visible. Only frothy foam of pale green was where they had been.

  Glances were thrown from one pirate to another, and the captain cried out in mourning as they moved into the lap of the next wave.

  They’d all given up on Jessop and the tiny three-legged pig, but William hadn’t. He’d seen how strong Jessop was and knew better than to give up just yet.

  As the ship moved to the next crest, William yelled out pointing, catching everyone’s attention, “There! There they are!” Jessop was struggling to keep afloat but he had a tight grip on the unmoving pig. William braced himself and put his weight into the rope and walked backwards making little change in the distance between the roped captives and the ship.

  Horace, Harry, and several others ran to his assistance towing the line back upon the ship. When they met the far side, other shipmates took to the rope and made their haul to the opposite side. In a matter of seconds and before the slide into the next pit of undulation, Jessop was out of the water and bouncing and banging against the side of the frigate as the last bit of rope was retrieved.

  Once on board Jessop put his entire mouth over the snout of the animal and puffed a few tiny breaths into the still body. A cough and a squeal from the pig and all the men cheered as the captain reclaimed his little friend. One of the crew offered a coat to the soaking Jessop. A giant of a man patted William on the back so hard he lost his balance.

  “I owe ye a great debt, Mr. Andrews,” the captain said. “Fin, crack open rum. Every man aboard will drink their fill today.”

  “But, Captain, we’ve only a butt of rum left an’ we shan’t be traveling to the Caribbean fer another three score.”

  “Aye, Fin, but let us celebrate today, and settle the debt tomorrow, shall we?” the captain said and the men cheered and carried Jessop into the shelter of the middle deck and the galley to revel in the bravery of Jesse Andrews and his loyal friend William Rees.

  * * *

  Though the weather above the decks was abominable, the celebration below deck was full of cheer. The absolute minimum of work was done above to maintain course and look out for enemies who might attack, though great efforts were made to trade off so all could partake in the merriment.

  William pulled out dice from his pocket, which he had hand carved from scraps of wood he’d found. He had taken up whittling on the Victory to pass his time and had gotten very good. A stout pirate sat down at the sight of the dice and they began to play a round of liars dice.

  Every sailor made their way at some point during the celebration to pat William and Jess on the back for the valiant deed in saving the captain’s beloved pig. Even Salty who rarely left Stillwater’s arms limped across the tankard strewn table to nuzzle Jessop under the chin as a gesture of thanks.

  Jessop rubbed the animal’s ears and scratched him under the chin. “May I ask, Captain, how did Salty come to have only three legs?”

  The chatter and laughter quieted at the question and the captain turned a stern eye upon the crew around him, staring them down, to which not one pirate met his gaze. Jessop had touched upon an obviously sore subject.

  “’Twas a bad time fer ‘The Revenge.’ We’d run out a supplies and thar weren’t a sight o’ land to speak of. Back then, Salty roamed the decks without me, makin’ his rounds fer a scratch behind the ear from one who might be givin’. When a starvin’ nave, who won’t be named…” the captain said glaring into a crowd of sailors staring at their boots, “snatched my poor Salty and took a cleaver to him. Starvation can do terrible things to a man’s mind. Twern’t for the fast thinking of Bean’s, the cook, ol’ Salty might have died. Bean’s ain’t the brightest candle aboard, or the best cook for that matter, but he earned my gratitude that dark day, by grabbing an iron from the fire and burnin’ the wound shut. The smell of cooked meat from Salty’s wound brought another onslaught of famish’d blokes nearly bitin’ Salty’s ear off.”

  Again a glare of malice went out to the groveling sea dogs and as before not a one would meet his eye.

  “But I’m not above forgivin’ a ravenous man a moment of derangement,” he said begrudgingly to the men.

  Realizing it might be better to change the subject, Jessop raised his flagon in a toast. “To Beans!”

  Cheers of agreement and the echo of ‘Bean’s’ was heard among the sailors. To further veer the conversation, the fast paced cheery chanty began by a strong clear voice followed by a squeeze box and penny whistle. Toes were tapping and all joined in for the chorus, including the captain.

  Oh, the ships will come and the ships will go,

  As long as waves do roll

  The sailor lad, likewise his dad,

&n
bsp; He loves the flowing bowl:

  A lass ashore we do adore,

  One that is plump and round, round, round.

  When the money is gone, it’s the same old song,

  Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

  Singing, Hey! laddie, ho! laddie,

  Swing the capstan ’round, ’round, ’round

  When the money is gone, it’s the same old song,

  Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

  When Jack is ashore he beats his way

  Towards some boarding-house:

  He’s welcome in with his rum and gin,

  And he’s fed with pork and souse:

  For he’ll spend and spend and never offend

  But he’ll lay drunk on the ground, ground, ground.

  When the money is gone, it’s the same old song,

  Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

  Singing, Hey! laddie, ho! laddie,

  Swing the capstan ’round, ’round, ’round

  When the money is gone, it’s the same old song,

  Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

  When Jack is old and weatherbeat,

  Too old to roustabout,

  In some rum-shop they’ll let him stop,

  At eight bells he’s turned out.

  Then he cries, he cries up to the skies:

  I’ll soon be homeward bound, bound, bound.”

  When the money is gone, it’s the same old song,

  Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

  Singing, Hey! laddie, ho! laddie,

  Swing the capstan ’round, ’round, ’round

  When the money is gone, it’s the same old song,

 

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