The overwhelming raids that the fleet committed overshadowed the exploits of other like-minded pirates in the Bahamas; even the most feared ones like Blackbeard and Edward Low. Those pirates were respected and feared in their own right, but unlike Ogden, they didn't have firepower that could contend with entire nations.
The whole world was talking about Admiral Ogden's armada of vicious murderers. News of their various ventures spread, being told on every continent, in almost every country known to man. Their assaults on ships carrying wealthy passengers, robbed blind by a group of ships led by one with red sails. Their battle with a small fleet of British war ships that should have been able to defeat them, but somehow were all sunk by the pirates.
And their most legendary of feats: the ransacking of a coastal British fort that supposedly housed a large cache of gold, a naval treasury. They took control of the fort, and used the cannons on its battlements to sink anyone that tried to approach. They didn't leave until they stripped the entire fortress of anything of value. When they were done, the entire fleet bombarded the fort with cannon fire until its structure gave out and it collapsed.
The fleet of pirates quickly became something of legend and their leader was even rumored to be a myth. After all, could any one man really lead that many criminals and killers?
One of the moments in Admiral Ogden's life that history would never talk about happened on the night of a hurricane, where all manner of people gathered and huddled together inside of a rickety old tavern by the sea. Ogden wasn't on one of his many adventures, or raiding expeditions, which he would be known of for centuries. He wasn't standing at the helm of his infamous vessel, navigating the storm by himself. It was a rainy and mundane night that helped define who he was.
It was the meeting of strangers, who for years would only cross paths for a few minutes; for one conversation that would have profound effect on the pirate for the rest of his life.
Ogden sat away from his crew like he often did, watching the various groups of people who were trying to weather the hurricane rocking the island. A drink in his hand, he wasn't really in the mood for any sort of conversation. He just wanted to try to be patient, and wait for the hurricane to subside so he could head back to open sea, and scratch that itch that kept bugging him—the need to go out and take as much money as he could find. Even now, he had half a mind to order his crew to start robbing everyone in the tavern, but even he wasn't cruel enough to do that while everyone was trying to stay safe in the storm.
There was a young woman walking toward him, looking out of place compared to the rest of the room. She just didn't look like most of the females inside the tavern. She carried herself in a peculiar way compared to the others; a rehearsed and proper way that none of them could even begin to try and attain. The daughter of some wealthy family that would never have been in a place like that unless it was the only choice they had. No, she wasn't one of the women begging for attention from the sailors passing through. She wasn't someone waiting for payment for her various services. She wasn't doting with her beauty to increase her station in life. No, she looked inquisitive and had a pleasant, welcoming smile. It was too nice of a smile, showing that she clearly was from somewhere else, where smiles were still genuine. She was an altogether different kind of woman than the ones Ogden had grown accustomed to in recent times.
She took a seat across from him at his lone table and he had stared at her peculiarly. She was focused on watching all of the other antics going on; like the cheers and fun his crew was taking part in. She looked confused by it all, and seemingly too distracted to realize that she had just sat down with someone else.
“Anything I can do for you?” Ogden asked, with a cough.
She looked a little startle by his greeting but then her expression shifted to a polite nod of acknowledgment. “No thank you. I am just curious.”
“Curious about what?” Ogden asked, finding himself genuinely intrigued by her. It had been a long time since a woman had practically ignored him. So many wanted the validation of a famed pirate who was becoming known all over the world.
“My father heard a rumor.” She nodded toward a well-dressed man standing in the corner of the other side of the room, looking more than a little uneasy about the company he was being forced to keep. “He heard that these people here are pirates.”
Ogden laughed. “Well, it is quite a common thing to be in these waters, as I'm sure you know.”
“Of course,” she said. “Quite common sadly. I hear such horrible things, but they have always captured my curiosity. And according to my father, these men are not the usual rabble of scoundrels you see hanging around sometimes.”
“No?” Ogden asked, feigning innocence, and taking a sip of his rum.
“No,” she said, looking at all of them with wonder and amazement. “My father said that these pirates serve under Admiral Walton Ogden himself.”
Ogden almost spit out his drink but just managed to keep himself together. If this girl only knew who she was speaking to. Ogden looked at his crew like they were all strangers and he was just as fascinated by them as she was. “Is that so?”
“If my father is right, then yes.” She almost trembled with excitement, even giddiness. “I wonder which one he is. You have heard of him, yes?”
“Of course,” Ogden said with some pride. “Who hasn't?”
“Then you have heard what they say about Admiral Ogden? I've heard so many things.”
“I'm afraid I don't,” Ogden said awkwardly. “I admit, I can be oblivious to a lot of everyday gossip. Please enlighten me. How does the civilized world see him?”
She straightened her posture like she was about to recount some amazing tale. “They say that Admiral Walton Ogden commands a million cutthroats on thousands of ships.”
That was a bit of an exaggeration that made Ogden smile. People always seemed to have a way of making impressive things sound somehow far more thrilling than they already were. He had just about a dozen vessels under his command, a far cry from thousands, and he couldn't even begin to imagine trying to be in charge of a million people.
“They say that his personal ship, the Scarlet Wing, has red sails.” That much was true. At least, all of those buffoons got something about him right. Then she continued, “They were dyed red with the blood of all of his enemies. That he drained them dry of their insides and painted his canvas with it.” There was the ludicrous fable that he expected. Was it really so hard to believe that his sails were simply made from red fabric? They had to make him sound like such a sadist.
“I have also heard that he was never born, at least by usual standards.” That was a strange one, and he found himself excited to hear the rest. “That he was spit out from the bottom of the sea, that he is not a man at all, but instead a monster from the depths that wants to kill any and all who breath air above.”
“A monster, eh? So he is what ... some kind of fish man?” Ogden asked with a snicker, impressed with whoever came up with that one. “I wonder if he has scales.”
“I am not sure,” she said, far more serious than he was being. She really believed some of these stories. This was why more of the so-called “civilized” people needed to see more of the world. Instead, they stayed in the comfort of their homes and believed all things outside of their domain were outlandish and unheard of, when in actuality, the truth was far less of a spectacle. “I have heard one story that said that Admiral Ogden could sniff out gold on a ship, like a bloodhound, and that was how he collected so much treasure. He was drawn to the gold.”
It wasn't exactly true, but the basis was accurate. He did have a keen ability to collect vast amounts of treasure.
She kept looking around at all of the crew, probably trying to deduce which man was the admiral himself. Most of her possible choices were embarrassing themselves with drunken antics, looking like fools more than famed pirates. That was where the struggle seemed to be. No man in the tavern radiated with some otherworldly glow of greatn
ess that would indicate their identity as Admiral Ogden, not even the true pirate himself.
This young lady obviously didn't believe that such a sadistic, scaly-skinned pirate monster from the bottom of the sea would be enjoying a quiet drink by himself.
“What is he supposed to look like?” Ogden asked, enjoying this game far too much to stop now. He would see it through for however it long it took for her to recognize the truth. “Surely, someone said something about him.”
“Not particularly,” she said, sounding disheartened. “Some pirates ... all they talk about is what they look like. Edward Teach and the matches that he sticks in his great black beard. Jack Rackham and the calico clothing he wears. But Admiral Ogden ... no one has really said.”
That was a shame, Ogden thought. Maybe he just needed a more defining physical aspect. As she said, some men like Blackbeard derived their reputations heavily from how they looked. He didn't really have that distinguishing feature that made him stand out. His claim to fame, his fleet of pirate ships, wasn't exactly something he could wear.
“Well, what do you imagine Admiral Ogden looks like?”
“He would have to be quite intimidating to command a whole fleet of pirates,” she said, almost whispered, musing over the question. “A mountain of a man, I would think. Tall and strong.”
Again, Ogden almost burst into a fit of laughter. He wasn't particularly tall and he wasn't particularly strong. Most wouldn't call him intimidating either. In fact, he tried his best not to be most of the time. If he tried to intimidate his crew, he would only meet with resistance. No, he discovered long ago that being understanding and charismatic was the only way to gain the respect of his men. He could be fierce in a fight, but he never stomped around like he was the strongest man on the seas. In fact, plenty of his own crew were stronger than him. He just had their trust, and their loyalty. That was where his strength came from.
“I can promise you, Admiral Ogden is not nearly as tall as you're imagining.”
She turned to him for the first time and they met eyes. It was like she had barely recognized there was an actual person sitting across from her before. Just the vague shape of some vagabond sitting in a tavern; someone beneath her status in life, who she would speak to, but didn't have to actually look at.
“And how might you know that?” she asked, still looking fascinated. “You have met him?”
“I have, yes,” Ogden said. “In fact, I am part of his crew.”
“You're with them?” She asked, turning back to the celebrating pirates. It was probably baffling, to think that someone as quiet and isolated as him would be working with a rabble like that. “You serve in his fleet?”
“I do,” Ogden said honestly. If she wasn't going to figure it out for herself, then he was just going to have to steer her in the right direction. “I actually serve on the Scarlet Wing itself. She's docked out there, you know? Trying to make it through this horrible storm. I'm sure she will be just fine. She's seen much worse.”
“You've served on it for long?”
“Since the beginning, yes,” Ogden said.
“Tell me all about it, I must know,” she said, leaning forward with wonder in her eyes. “Are the sails really stained with blood?”
“No,” Ogden said. “Whoever told you that has a wicked mind, though.”
“But what of the admiral? What is Admiral Ogden like?”
Ogden had hardly ever been asked to describe himself, and he never even cared to think about himself that much. So much of his thoughts and energy were directed outward toward various things. He had to always be thinking about the crews under his command. He had to be thinking about how they were going to contend with the sea on a daily basis. He had to think of strategies for the fights that always were ahead. He had to even be thinking about how best to keep his treasure hidden. He barely gave himself any real thought.
Even so, he did his best to at least give it a try. “First of all, he is not nearly as monstrous as you have been led to believe. He does not collect the ears of his enemies or tie naval soldiers to anchors and drop them into the sea. All of that is nonsense. No, Walton Ogden is a man just doing his best to find some success in life. Just like anyone else. It is his only real desire. To be rich and famous.” The young woman listened carefully to every word, and surprise crossed her face upon hearing that all of those rumors were so incorrect. “He is the type of man who doesn't mind sitting by himself at a table, and speaking with a young lady who should really not believe everything she hears.”
Her eyes widened and the rest of the tavern disappeared now. He wasn't invisible to her anymore. He was the only thing that she wanted to look at. He wondered if she was disappointed by what she saw since he didn't quite live up to all of the fables that she had taken so much value in. The view of Admiral Ogden from the populace was far different than the man himself. She almost looked like didn't believe him at first, but the longer her gaze lingered on him, the more seemed intrigued.
“You?”
Ogden let himself laugh aloud this time and shrugged. “Me. Yes.”
“I'm ... my apologies,” she said, bowing her head courteously. “You're just not at all how I pictured you in my mind. I'm afraid I just didn't know.”
“Evidently not,” Ogden snickered. “That is quite alright. Now that you know my name, it's only fair that I know yours.”
“Of course! Yes, I am Victoria Hart.” She was red from embarrassment, now averting her eyes to try not and stare at him.
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Victoria,” Ogden said holding out his hand in greeting. She slowly took it and he brought her hand to his lips where he lay a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He then looked passed her at her well-dressed father across the room. “What brings your family to this island? Besides this damn typhoon?”
“My father runs a trading company. He brought me along just to see how he conducted his business properly. We found shelter here when we saw the storm brewing in the horizon.”
“It's a good thing you did,” Ogden said. “I doubt most vessels can survive out there against something like this. Not even us.”
“How many of you are here?” she asked. “Surely, I would have seen thousands of ships.”
“That's yet another fact about me that you were mistaken about,” Ogden said. “I don't have nearly that many in my fleet. Not even close. But no, right now it's just my ship docked at this island. The others are raiding all over the world. We won't see them for quite some time.”
“Your ship really is here? The Scarlet Wing? How did I miss it!?”
“Its sails are up right now,” Ogden explained. “And given that moments ago you thought that those sails were dripping with blood, I can see why you wouldn't take any notice of it.”
It was a bit of an insult but Victoria didn't seem offended by it. In fact, she seemed annoyed with herself for acting like such a fool in front of someone who she was so intrigued by. She still seemed overwhelmed that she was sitting at the same table as a man she had thought was some sort of monster manifested from the sea itself. He was hardly the type of company she usually kept.
“Can I ask you something?” She spoke hesitantly, like she was afraid to say the wrong thing.
“Sure,” he said. “It's not like I'm doing anything else right now.”
Victoria still looked uneasy about speaking to him directly. It seemed to be a lot easier for her to talk about him when she thought he was someone else. Now, with the most direct source for answers, she seemed extremely hesitant. Maybe she thought a cutthroat like him would murder her if she said anything offensive.
Finally, she spat out her question. “Why do you do it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you a pirate?”
That particular question was something he never gave much thought too. In the few times that he had thought about what set him on that path, he always thought about wanting to be free of anyone giving him orders when he had been in the nav
y. He wanted to be free to do whatever he wanted. He wanted to find his own course for success.
“I wanted to live my life without anyone telling me I couldn't do it that way,” Ogden said. “I wanted to be able to make myself whatever kind of person I wanted to be without proper society judging me. I wanted to be as free as the ocean allowed me to be. So that's exactly what I did.”
“But do you have to be a ... a criminal ... to do that? Breaking our laws. Do you do the things everyone says you do? The stealing, and the fighting ... the killing?”
“Some of them, yes,” Ogden said. “But the worst things I only do when I have to, usually when there's no other choice. Freedom always has a price. And sometimes that price can be take a heavy toll on you.”
“I imagine you are able to pay any price, are you not? With the amount of money they say you have stolen...”
“Yes,” Ogden conceded. “I suppose that amount of gold does help.”
“Why take it? Why hurt so many people just to get gold? Why not find work instead? That's how the vast majority of society does things. Your line of work can only end poorly for you in the end.”
“We'll just have to see.”
“So when this storm passes...”
“We'll do what we always do. We will pillage and plunder for whatever we want from whomever we want. For instance, when you and your father are on a ship heading to wherever it is you're heading ... that's exactly the kind of ship we would target. A whole ship full of well-off civilians who wouldn't be able to stop us from robbing them.” She looked away again and Ogden chuckled. “What? It's the way the world is, I'm afraid.”
“I suppose,” she said. “It was nice to meet you.”
She rose from the table and Ogden put his hand on her arm. She flinched and looked down with fear but relaxed when she realized he was holding her wrist rather gently.
“It was nice to meet you too, Victoria,” Ogden said. “I'm not nearly the monster they've made me out to be am I?”
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 9 Page 25
