Weathering the Storm: A "Black Sails" Adventure(closed)
William Blakeson rose from the throne-like chair as his oldest friend entered his quarters. The crew of the
Stormy Dawn had spent more than three hours discussing William's future as Captain of the pirate ship. The expression on Quartermaster's face was the first indication that the vote hadn't gone William's way. The four men following in behind Louis -- flanking him with their daggers, swords, and pistols at the ready -- were his second clue.
"So, are they sending me to shore?" William asked, the sound of his own sword dangling at his side reminding the four men that he was still armed. He continued his inquiry as he rested his hands casually on the butts of the already cocked flint locks in his belt, "Or just sending me overboard?"
"You know the Articles, Captain," Louis said. One of the men behind him cleared his throat conspicuously, to remind the Quartermaster that
Captain Blood was Captain no more. Louis took notice of the correction with a half glance back and the continuation, "You will not be harmed so long as you go willingly."
"I know the Articles," William repeated back to his Quartermaster. William was, after all, the primary author of the code of conduct that for the past six years had governed the Storm Dawn, its captain, its crew, and its distribution of revenue. William glanced to the four nervous crewmen spread throughout what used to be his quarters, then looked back to Louis. "I don't suppose anyone a little less likely to shoot me in the back is here to escort me from the boat."
A short while later, William was looking up at the Stormy Dawn as the four men who had chosen to disembark with him rowed their launch toward shore. On the deck, some of William's former crew men jeered, while others simply stared on. Even at the growing distance, William could see regret in the eyes of some of the men. While he knew that some of the pirates were angry about the lack of recent prizes and the low revenues that came from those merchant ships they had boarded, William knew that some of the men had likely voted him out because of pressure from the men upon whom their lives depended.
It didn't take long to reach the Nassau docks from the Stormy Dawn's anchorage, and yet by the time the launch was being tied up, there were more than a hundred people there simply to gawk at the deposed pirate captain. William's men pushed a path through the crowd for the man they would continue to call Captain regardless of his true position until finally they passed through the doors of the Black Gull brothel. William had kept a room here for years, and -- after snatching a bottle of rum with one hand and a scantily dressed whore with the other -- he went directly to it. His men dropped his pair of trunks and weapons -- all he now had to his name -- and, after being ordered to do so, headed back downstairs to get what they needed from the brothel as well.
He set about trying to push from his mind the loss his life had just incurred: he fucked, he bathed, he drank, he fucked again. The next day, he repeated. And the next.
It wasn't until the fourth day, that he called his men to his room and sat them around a table. They visited, laughed, poked fun, and more. But there was an air of concern as thick as an ocean fog all about them.
"What's next, Captain?" one of them, Rollo, finally ventured. "What do we do next ... without a ship ... a crew."
The other three began talking about opportunities of which they'd heard, with other ships. Rollo knew, however, that those
opportunities were for crew men only, not former captains.
Once a Captain, always a Captain. He looked to William and said with deep sincerity and obvious loyalty, "We're with you, Captain ... no matter what you decide, we'll stand with you."
The other three nodded or spoke confirmation of their shipmate's statement, despite each knowing that they would likely have to go their own separate direction to earn. William thanked the men for the loyalty, toasted to their futures with the last of the rum, and told them with total honesty and humility, "I know not what our next move is, men. But ... I assure you ... we
will sail together again ... and soon."
They finished their drinks, laughed some more, talked about whores and alcohol and their love for both, then broke up to return to spending their quickly emptying purses on both. William caught Rollo by the arm, asking him to stay. Once they were alone, he pulled out a second bottle of rum, sat down closely to the man, and whispered to him, "You know what my next move is."
Rollo looked hesitant, even doubtful. Also in whisper, knowing that even in these private quarters -- possibly even more so than in the whore house's other rooms -- the walls have ears, he responded, "Captain ... we have no ship ... no crew ... and no specifics on the Urca's location."
William only smiled, swigged at the bottle, and confirmed his friend's statements. He added with a laugh, "But what else do I have to do? After the coin runs out ... after the bottles are empty, the thighs clamped shut--" He nodded toward the closed door. "The room locked to me. What am I to do then but dream ... dream big ... dream big of shiny things...?"
Rollo nodded his agreement, lifted his mug for a toast, and said, "To shiny things."
