Winds of Fate [Books I-III]

Chapter 100: Commander (Part Two)

March 4th 1720, Present Day
HMS Gallant, Off the shores of Nassau

"Raise the royals for the fair wind!" 

"Hurrah!"

The cheers die behind Admiral Smith as he ducks under the bridge and grasp the golden handle of the Captain's cabin. A light, easy, and a steady breeze blows their way, even if the skies are still damp and heavy with foreboding gray clouds that have blotted out the sun. Still, he cannot fault his men for rejoicing. After all, better have a cold, constant breeze than a violent squall.

He takes a deep breath and enters his sanctuary. Half of the cabin's windows have been opened wide, letting the sharp cold in. Admiral Smith tugs his stiff, white cravat. When that proved futile, he throws a hand into the wind and slinks back behind his grand mahogany desk, where his missives sit inside a tiny chest and only a quill dipped in its bottle along with the brass lantern are currently sitting on it.

A younger him would have left maps and implements on the desk, until his own Admiral pointed out how unbecoming his unruliness was for a servant of the King. He leans back and sighs. Since then, he had only plotted courses and left implements in the wardroom.

Briefly forgetting why he had retired inside his cabin in the first place, Admiral Smith opens the drawer and fishes out a wad of paper. He smooths the white flimsy thing out before him, and grabs his quill; dipping the implement thrice. Putting ink to page, he writes all that he has learned in Nassau: About the Nevilles and the Longbournes' apparent animosity, making a note to inquire more about them slyly during dinner parties.

"Not that I am invited that much," he grumbles, "and thank God for that." But being the only British Admiral deployed means once ported, he could not escape the Royal Governor, as much as he loathed that task. "I suppose this time those suppers would have their use."

His lips curl to a frown as he connects the first association.

Neville, Nassau --- Dela Vega, Havana

Alejandro Dela Vega is the son of the older Dela Vega who was once Cuba's governor himself. Like Neville, he is young and ambitious. And a nobleman. The Admiral grimly shakes his head. A worthwhile connection, however, exists also between the Familia Dela Vega---

Del Santo, Brethren of the Coast

The enmities go far. Almost like the Longbournes and the Nevilles... He raises a brow, making a dashed line to Neville's side, specifically the Duke and former Marquis. Leaving the English side for a moment, he returns to the runaway Conde.

From a deal with Davy Jones to being a hidden bastard of the King of Spain, the rumors around Del Santo abound. Since he returned to the Caribbean three years ago, Admiral Smith had compiled all he can about the Brethren's pirate captains.

Del Santo eludes his many searches. While the books confirm that he is not a bastard prince, instead of a lesser one, it also tells that he is the last Conde of Seville.

Seville. The grand ancient port. Admiral Smith pauses. Why would a Conde leave his city? He is the last of his family... It can't be simple youthful rebelliousness, although Admiral Smith is ready to concede that statement. He had left Penwith for the Navy, armed only with his courage and faith that everything shall work out in the end. He leans back in his seat.

But he only had his old Mother and Father in Penwith when he left, while the Conde had obviously taken the title before he went rogue. Finding it futile to make sense of the man now, Admiral Smith continues. In El Diablo's career as a pirate captain, he only ever lived to such notoriety in two significant incidents: