The sound of waves crashing against the sides of the ship, and sails billowing in the wind seemed deafening in the silence that took place aboard the deck of the pirates' new vessel. John steadied his aim on the stranger from below the decks.
"Mate, if you plan to live, you best start talking" he said. The merchant took a deep breath, and raised his hands.
"I'm mean no ill intent. I'm simply a member of the former crew" he replied. "My name is Nicholas Wells, I'm the sailing master, and stand in logistics officer."
"Give me one good reason for me to keep my crew from killing you where you stand, and feeding you to the fish?" asked Les.
"I- I can help you all! I know how to rig a ship pretty well, a-and find the fastest, most efficient path" Nick replied "Just please don't kill me." The crew exchanged looks, and then turned back to the merchant.
"Drop all of your weapons." Commanded Chris. The merchant complied, unsheathing a cutlass, and removing a pistol from its holster and placing them on the deck in front of him. John lowered his pistol, and placed it in his holster.
"You're a sailing master eh? Tell me mate. What does that job entail?" he asked.
The merchant shook with fright, "I commanded the ship's rigging, to keep her on the wind. When we chose contracts to take, I charted the best courses" Les approached him, slowly.
"So you can rig, and navigate eh? Prove your worth. Get us on the best course for our destination, Galleon's Grave Outpost" said Les. The merchant walked down to the map table, and quickly returned.
"W-well, if you look off the port bow there, you should see Lonely Isle. Once we're about to pass, you'll want to turn about 45 degrees to the port, trim your sails, and continue due east. Galleon's Grave will be on the port side. If the wind keeps this way, we should arrive by midday tomorrow." Les looked over his shoulder to his crew, grinning.
"We kindly appreciate the information Master Wells, we'll be taking it into consideration, as we decide what to do with you." The merchant grew frightened. Les turned back towards his crew, walking towards the wheel. As he approached the stairs, he shouted behind him. "Brig him!" Chris and John grabbed the merchant by the arms, and walked him below.
When the two of them returned, Les was leaning on the rail at the helm.
"What should we do about the merchant?" he asked.
John replied quickly "Kill him."
"Kill him? Why?" replied Les.
"He's a liability, a loose end. I don't like having loose ends. He squeals to the wrong person at an outpost, and it could be bad."
Les nodded "And what do you think Chris?"
Chris shrugged "We could recruit him" John snapped his gaze to his new crewmate. "He knows how to rig and navigate, not to mention, he's spent far more time on a galleon than we have, meaning he knows how they react a bit better than we do."
"Are you out of your damned mind?!" shouted John. "All it takes, is him talking to one trader at an outpost, and the Merchant Alliance will have their whole damn fleet hunting us down!
"Who says he'll even report us?!" Chris retorted "We may pay him better than the Merchant Alliance, making it less profitable to turn us in!"
"Oh, but the Alliance will pay good coin to retrieve a lost vessel, trust me. They won't be losing their ships." John replied.
"Alright, enough!" shouted Les, and the deck grew silent. "We give him the option, of death, or a position as sailing master aboard the Revenge. If he accepts, he doesn't leave the ship at an outpost, without supervision, savvy?" Chris and John glanced at one another, still red and the face, but they reluctantly nodded in agreement with the captain.
"Good, now according to our friend below decks, this should be Lonely Isle off the port side here, so we should be turning eastward now. Get those sails on the wind!" barked Les. The crew ran to the pulleys and began trimming the sails, as the galleon made a slow turn to the east. As she rounded the island, the sails caught a gust of wind, and pushed the ship closer to the island. Les quickly threw the steering wheel to the starboard side, and righted the ship, as the rest of the crew felt the keel just barely brush against the shallow sea bottom near the island. They looked at Les who was grinning. He saluted them, and put the ship back on course for Galleon's Grave.
"They don't call me Les "Close-Call" Paul for nothing!" He said, smiling, as he walked down the stairs to the top deck. "Chris, keep this course, John, come with me, we're going to pay our friend a visit. I would also like to see what other merchant goods are aboard." Chris proceeded to the helm, and John went with Les below decks.
"The hold is pretty good captain. Still quite a few spices and silks to be sold" said John.
"Good, we can use it as leverage" replied Les, as a sly grin creeped across his face. They approached the brig, where the merchant was sitting on the floor, back to the stairs. John kicked the iron bars on the cage.
"Up with you." He said, and the merchant stumbled to his feet. Les got really close to the brig, and looked at the prisoner.
"We've got a proposition for you, Nicholas" He said, smiling. "I'll make it simple, there's two choices. You could join us, as a sailing master, and navigator. You'll get a fair cut of the profits, and treated with respect."
"What's my other option?" asked Nick.
"Death" replied John.
The captain nodded his head "Aye, the other option is death. We'll have ye walk the plank, and the most you can do is pray that The Hungering One finds ye, before the sharks pick ye apart." Nick's face had gone pale, and fear filled his gaze.
"I-I'll join, you have my word." he said frantically "I'll serve the crew loyally." Les smiled and turned to John,
"Release him." He looked at Nick, "Once you're out, get a count on the rest of the goods aboard, and quote me a sale value."
"I already have." Replied Nick, as he walked out of the brig "On a bad day, you're looking at about thirty-two thousand gold worth of goods here." Les smiled.
"Good to know. If that's the case everyone above deck, we'll discuss payout" The three of them walked above deck, and Les waved Christopher down.
"Alright mates, it's time we discuss payouts." Started Les. "Our newest crew member here, took inventory on our hold, and it turns out the hold is worth around thirty-two thousand. My plan, is an even 25% cut per crew member, so everyone would take home about eight grand. How does that sound?" he looked around him. John looked shocked, and Chris had a big smile on his face, Nick looked pleased as well.
"25%? Really? My last captain alone took a 40% cut, and left us to fight over the last 60%." Said John.
"Well mate, I believe in an equal pay for the crew. So we'll all get a fair cut." Replied Les. John smiled,
"Aye captain, I appreciate the gesture."
The sun began to set on the horizon as the ship sailed past Hidden Spring Keep, a currently dormant skeleton fort. Les was at the wheel, and the rest of the crew was down on the top deck, drinking grog, and talking. Les decided to walk down, and join the conversation.
"So Nick, allow me to welcome ye to the crew!" he said, as he smiled and pat his newest recruit on the back. "So, you said you sailed with this crew for a while? What can you tell me about her?"
Nick took a sip from his grog, "The M.A.S. Annabelle" he said, "Her port of call is Ancient Spire Outpost, or, at least it was, prior to your commandeering it. She ran long distance contracts for the Alliance, they paid well."
"Ancient Spire Outpost? So should we avoid the Ancient Isles then?" asked Chris. Nick shook his head,
"John tells me you're having the ship refitted and repainted at Galleon's Grave." He replied, "Sure they'll be looking for their galleon, but they won't be able to tell that, this is the ship they're looking for." Les smiled,
"I think you and I are going to get along very well mate." He said, "Let me grab everyone another round of grog!" He went below deck, and began to inspect his new ship, and learn the layout. Towards the bow, he saw a pile of clothes, and on the top sat a long red coat with golden trim, a wide-brimmed black hat with a large yellow feather, some long black pants, and tall leather boots. He reached into his pocket, and grabbed the eyepatch he found in his father's drawer.
"Where's our grog?!" Chris shouted below deck. Les quickly put on the new attire he had found, and took the grog to his crew.
"What do you all think?" he asked, displaying his new captain getup.
"I'd sail for ye." Said Chris. The crew shared a laugh, and talked some more, until the sun set on the horizon.
As the night grew later, Chris went to sleep early, to trade off the wheel with the captain in a few hours, and shortly thereafter, the rest of the crew retired to their cots for the evening. As Les stood at the helm, maintaining an eastward course, he smiled. With a ship, and crew, he was finally becoming a captain. As much as he scoffed at the idea before, he was truthfully looking forward to the next heist on another crew. Getting the ship had been a profitable, and successful venture, sure, but it wasn't his plan. He was anxious to finally formulate his own plan, and successfully take a prize.The ship sailed on into the night, the seas calm, and the wind strong. Galleon's Grave was only a short ways away, and the ship would shortly be unrecognizable to the Merchant Alliance.
Tomorrow, would be the birth, of The Wicked Revenge.