The Curse of Blackbane

A Profane Curse

"Curse these blasted fools, we're here for gold!"

Captain Blackbane stepped inside long hallway with two of his loyal lieutenants, it was the height of the devil's hour. His face darkened at the scene inside the Convent of Santa Clara.

Some of his notorious band of cutthroats ignored his orders. Already drunk from the wine stores they discovered inside a nearby priory, the men of the Diano Marina descended upon the terrified nuns like wolves. The screams of women and the lecherous catcalls of the sailors hit him like a blast of foul air. Amid the chaotic scene lit by oil lamps hanging on the stone walls, his men were already ravaging their victims. Half-naked victims struggled to escape from their sleeping cells were men shared them.

Blackbane foully cursed in Arabic at the crew while causally stepped over the bloody body of a partially dressed woman. Dressed in a blue wool coat, scarlet vest and white breeches, the large man glanced over the chaotic scene. His pockmarked face held a smattering of black dots on one side of his face. He gave no hints of mercy to the women from his dark eyes looking out under his dark brown tricorn hat.

"Bingham get these bastards off the women. They'll fetch more when they're chaste," he roared amid the chaos.

His loyal first mate responded immediately as he pulled his flintlock and entered the nearby rooms. Blackbane smiled grimly as he watched Bingham strike one of the reluctant men in the head with the pistol butt after the pirate failed to move quickly enough. He and another comrade immediately joined the pirate captain.

Blackbane directed them toward the stairs, pointing with his captured Polish saber. The blade of his karabela still glistened with the blood of a monk who lay outside.

"I want every man to scour every spot in these building. No one escapes or I'll have your guts for the fish." His ominous growl sent the men to their task.

He watched his pirates scurry away while he drained a tankard filled with Cachaça, a strong local wine which he held in his other hand. The captain of the pirate crew waved his second mate over.

"Seymore, help round up the women. I want them on the ship before morning."

The men immediately hurried away, yelling orders to the pirates. While Bingham continued pulling the men out of the cells with their screaming prizes, Seymore's men forced the women into a group near the entrance to the hall. Then, he sent other armed men to inspect the various rooms in that section of the building.

Blackbane continued along the hallway, bellowing orders to the men along the way while Seymore followed along. Reluctant men started to prod their prisoners toward the entrance. Others were stealing silver crosses and other religious trinkets they found inside the cells.

"It's a meager haul," Seymore complained when he saw the items.

"It's the room, damn it. That monk swore upon that damn bible there was a room." The captain glanced inside a nearby room. He went back and forth, searching for doors to open.

Under torture, the few monks captured by Blackbane and his men swore they harbored no gold inside the walls of the monastery. However, a lay brother who witnessed the torture told the captain about a room of golden crosses inside the convent. Blackbane forced the man to lead them to Santa Clara. When they reached the convent, the lay brother confessed that he didn't know the exact location inside of the walls, Blackbane cut the man's throat in rage.

The pirate captain came to the end of the hallway where he found one of his men on top of a struggling nun inside of her sleeping cell.

"You there, get to your duties. I gave you an order to find that gold room!" The captain bellowed as he kicked the sailor with his heavy boot.