by Noah Harris
It was a fine performance, one which would make any seaman’s heart swell with pride, but it was not enough. The Virtue was not built for speed, and the mystery ship most certainly was. For the next hour, it gradually overhauled them as Thomas, temporarily forgotten, watched from the mizzenmast. The crew bustled around him, arming themselves and tossing overboard any unnecessary items in a vain attempt to lighten the load and give the ship just a little more speed.
The other ship was clearly visible now. A sleek, nicely kept ship with a row of cannons on her deck, but none on her lower deck as a warship would have. Those few cannons would be enough - the Virtue had none.
The ship flew no flag and something was catching the sunlight on her prow, giving off flashes of golden reflection. As the ship drew closer, Thomas saw that the figurehead decorating the prow was a statue of a muscular, naked man. The bright, metallic reflection came from between his legs.
“Look! Look at the figurehead!” someone shouted. “It’s the Manhunter!”
The crew gasped. Thomas’s throat went dry. He and every other sailor had heard of the Manhunter, a pirate ship recognizable by its figurehead of a man with a golden erection. It was said that the entire crew were catamites. Thomas had thought the ship nothing but a tall tale, something made up by sailors too long at sea, but as he squinted at the approaching vessel, it really did look like that golden gleam between the figurehead’s legs came from a thick member made of pure gold.
“All hands on deck!” Captain Stone shouted. “Prepare to repel boarders!”
As if in response, the pursuing ship hauled up its colors. The flag unfurled, and Thomas and the others gaped as they saw the familiar Jolly Roger—a grinning skull and crossbones.
No, not crossbones.
In place of the anticipated pair of crossed long bones was a pair of white cocks, with big balls and a bulbous head where the round joints of the bones should be.
“We’re buggered for sure!” one of the sailors cried.
“No swearing!” Captain Stone shouted. “You’re docked a day’s pay!”
“How can you think of pay at a time like this?” another sailor wailed. “We’re going to be used like some shipyard doxy and we won’t be able to sit down until St. Swithin’s Day!”
“Then arm yourselves and prepare to defend your honor!” the first mate bellowed with cutlass and pistol in hand.
The Manhunter drew closer. The race was over and every man knew it. The rigging crew scampered down to the deck and gathered weapons.
As the Manhunter hauled up beside the Virtue, the crew of the merchant vessel saw just how outgunned they were. The deck of the pirate vessel seethed with men armed to the teeth. All of them appeared to have a musket and a brace of pistols each, plus a cutlass and knife sheathed at their sides. Six cannons were aimed at them, their muzzles like the black eyes of the skull on the pirates’ flag.
The crew of the Virtue, in addition to being outnumbered, had only a dozen muskets and an equal number of swords, plus a few pistols. The rest of the sailors had armed themselves with knives, axes, boat hooks, and marlinspikes.
The crew started murmuring amongst themselves. Some edged away from the deck as if to run, even though they were on a ship at sea and had no place to go.
“Hold steady, lads!” Captain Stone ordered.
The Manhunter, running alongside, veered towards them, closing the gap. When the pirates came within musket range, Captain Stone ordered his men to fire. A dozen muskets thudded, sending plumes of gun smoke into the air. None of the pirates appeared to get hit.
“Reload!” Captain Stone ordered.
A deafening roar came from the pirate ship as two of their six cannons belched forth smoke and a pair of cannonballs arced over the deck. Everyone threw themselves down - everyone except for Thomas, who remained lashed to the mizzenmast, wide-eyed and trembling.
A harsh voice hailed them from the Manhunter. “The next shots will be canister. I’ll clear the decks of you filthy lot, and if that doesn’t make you surrender, I’ll fire solid shot at your hull and send you to Davy Jones’ Locker! Surrender immediately and prepare to be boarded.”
“We will not surrender to filth like you!” Captain Stone shot back.
“If you do not surrender, you will all die. If you do surrender, we will take your cargo and leave you unharmed. We want the cargo.”
This got the crew of the Virtue whispering among themselves. It was well known that pirates spared crews who did not resist. It was in the pirates’ best interest to avoid a fight, not because the fearless thieves worried about losing men but because the prize ship might be damaged or sunk in the fray. Far better to take the merchant vessel, steal the cargo, and let it go. All pirates did this, but would the pederast crew of the Manhunter really act the same?
“You’re a sinner and a liar!” Captain Stone called back. “You will defile our bodies and dump us in the sea.”
“When have you ever heard that we have done such a thing?” the pirate captain shouted back. Thomas could see him now, a broad man with a long brown beard. He wore a black tricornered hat and a heavy coat of bright red that reached past his knees. A row of gold buttons sparked in the sunlight as he stood fearlessly in full view on the lower rigging. “If we did make a habit of riding the crew, no ship would ever surrender to us.”
“It’s true,” a sailor aboard the Virtue said. “They took the Endeavor last year and didn’t defile a single man.”
“Quiet!” the first mate shouted, giving him a clout on the side of the head that sent him sprawling. There was a chorus of shouts among the men of the Virtue. Several dropped their weapons.
“Pick up those arms!” Captain Stone shouted, his face going red.
“Do you swear to spare our backsides?” another sailor called over to the pirates.
The pirate captain let out a great belly laugh.
“We have all the backsides we require over here. All we want is your money and your cargo. We’ll even leave you your navigation equipment, so that you can make it safely to port. We want you plying the seas next season so we can fleece you again.”
“We should surrender,” the sailor said, dropping his cutlass. Others nodded and set down their weapons.
Captain Stone looked beside himself with rage, and yet Thomas could see his mind racing. If the ship was damaged or sunk, the investors in London would back out and Stone wouldn’t be able to raise the capital to make his next voyage. The rich merchants and bankers who sponsored ocean-going traders knew that sometimes one must take a loss from piracy. The cost of a single cargo was as nothing compared to the cost of a ship. Captain Stone hung his head and laid his sword and pistol on the deck.
“You win,” he called over to the pirates. “If you swear you will not touch us in an unnatural manner, then the ship’s cargo is yours.”
A cheer rose from the pirate ship. They hauled in close, throwing ropes with grappling hooks over to catch the railing, then pulled on the lines. Within a minute the two ships thumped hulls, tied fast to one another.
The pirates swarmed onto the Virtue, gripping their weapons and grinning, a wicked gleam in every man’s eye.
The crew of the Virtue backed off to the far side of the deck, hands upraised. Only Captain Stone and the first mate stood their ground. The pirates raced onto the ship, those in front leveling muskets, pistols, and blunderbusses at the crew, while those directly behind picking up the weapons the crew had discarded.
They were a varied lot—ranging from youths in their late teens to hardy sailors in their middle years. All had the hard bodies of men who worked at sea, and all carried their weapons with confidence. Thomas saw all the races of the world among them—from fair-haired Scandinavians to swarthy Spaniards, as well as dark-skinned Arabs and Negroes from Africa. He also saw one man with a look he had never seen before—having a yellowish complexion and strange, angular eyes. He carried a keen-edged sword of a make strange to Thomas and wore loose pants and odd, soft-soled sh
oes cut between the big toe and the rest of the toes.
Then an even greater wonder dazzled his eyes—there were two women in the crew! One was a hulking lass in her thirties holding a slow match and standing by one of the cannons. The other was a fair maiden with raven hair barely into her twenties, with a face and body of the kind that Thomas was certain interested men would have found beautiful. She leapt aboard with the rest of the pirates, a cutlass in one hand and a poniard in the other, shouting a battle cry.
Before Thomas could fathom this new wonder, his attention was diverted by the pirate captain, the bold man who had hailed them from the Manhunter. He came striding through the crowd, his heavy boots thumping on the deck. He stood six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and thick arms. In one hand, he carried a huge cutlass and in the other, a strangely fashioned flintlock pistol with four barrels. Another four pistols hung on a bandolier belt across his broad chest, and yet another cutlass hung from his belt. A musket was strapped across his back. His red coat was made of a thick, heavy material kept fully buttoned up despite the Caribbean heat.
He walked up to Captain Stone, looked him up and down, and asked, “Are you the captain of this tub?”
“I am Captain Temperance Stone of the Virtue.”
“What are you carrying, Captain Stone? From whence do you hail and whither are you going?”
“We sailed from Kingston with a cargo of sugar and rum”—this brought cries of joy from the pirates - “and we are on course for Dover.”
“Ah, are you familiar with Dover?” the pirate captain asked, raising his bushy brown eyebrows.
“I have been to that port many a time, yes.”
“Then perhaps you know my good friend Ben. He is from one of the oldest families in town. In fact, the city is named after his family. The Dover’s are quite popular there, and it is said Ben Dover is the most popular of all.”
The pirates laughed heartily. Captain Stone glowered at the pirate captain.
“May I remind you that I surrendered on the condition that my men and I would not be violated, and that my ship will be released to continue on its journey?”
The pirate captain gave out a derisive snort. “Your ship will be let go, have no worries on that score. The more ships plying the ocean, the more chances there are for booty. I have no interest in interfering with maritime trade. Quite the contrary. As for me bending you over a keg and giving you the what-for, I’d rather fuck a flounder that has been putrefying in the sun all day. You’re an ugly one, and I’ll stick to men who look like men rather than a cross between a seventy-year-old Puritan minister and a desiccated turnip that’s been shat on by a goat.”
The pirates roared with laughter. Captain Stone reddened. Thomas couldn’t decide whether the man was angrier at having his vanity hurt or by the insult of being rejected by someone he thought of as inferior.
The pirate captain turned and noticed the two men lashed to the masts—one dead, the other staring back at him with fear stamped on every feature. He walked over to Thomas and looked him up and down. Thomas’s heart pounded in his chest, and he could not meet the pirate’s eye. The pirate captain shrugged and walked to Archibald. He looked at the ruin of a man strapped dead to the mainmast for a moment, and then turned back to Captain Stone.
“What is going on here?”
“Ship’s punishment,” Captain Stone snapped.
“I can see that. For what? There are not many crimes that will get a man flogged to death. Did he strike you?”
“No,” Captain Stone said, looking uncomfortable for the first time Thomas could ever remember.
“Did these two conspire to kill one of the crew?”
“No.”
“Did they divulge your route to a pirate vessel? I can vouch that they performed no such service for us.”
“No, they didn’t betray the ship in that manner.”
“What did they do, then?”
Captain Stone took a moment to collect himself, and then with the face of a man walking to the gallows he replied, “They were found in the privy consorting in an unnatural fashion. On my ship that means death by the lash.”
This revelation was met with a profound silence. Every pirate stared at Captain Stone, who took a deep breath and puffed out his chest.
The slow thud of the pirate captain’s heavy boots broke the silence as he walked up to Captain Stone and glared at him, their faces only inches apart. A moment passed, then he turned abruptly and stalked over to Thomas, still lashed to the mizzenmast.
“Is this true? Did you consort unnaturally with that mess tied to the mainmast?”
“That mess had a name,” Thomas replied, marveling at how level his voice came out. “He was Archibald Cook.”
“I didn’t ask his name, boy, I asked if you are a Ganymede.”
“A what?”
“A Ganymede. Are you one? Are you a Nancy boy? A poo pusher? Are you a bender? A bum bandit? A doxy with a dick? A princess with a prick? A catamite? A man’s man? A pillow biter? An ankle grabber?”
“Look, I - ”
“Are you a bum rider? A man straddler? A flute player? A peg boy? A cum gobbler?”
“Listen - ”
“When you’re in a room full of lovely ladies, do you say, ‘gash is fine, but it’s the one eye for mine?’ When your ship docks, do you pass by the whorehouse and head for the bathhouse? When you’re at a seaside tavern, do you find yourself saying ‘Hey sailor, may I push in your stool?’ Do you - ”
“Enough!” Thomas shouted with enough force that the pirate captain actually took a step back in surprise. “It’s bad enough that I had to watch a man flogged to death in front of my eyes and that I’ve been tied to this mast awaiting the same fate, but do you have to mock me? I’ll wager you wouldn’t be mocking me if my hands were untied. Yes, I do like tumbling with other men, and what of it? God made me that way, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m tired of hiding and being ashamed. At least I’ve lived an honest life, not like you scum. When all the preachers fulminate on their pulpits about the sins of man-lovers, they’re talking about people like you! They don’t realize that many of us live decent lives. We tend fields or sail ships. We are soldiers in the King’s army or craftsmen in the towns. I’ve slept with all such men and more. We are decent folk, but then scum like you go and make us look bad, flashing about the sea with golden cocks on your figureheads and stealing people’s hard-earned money. I despise you almost as much as Captain Stone here, and not because you sleep with men but you make the decent male lovers look bad. You are a curse upon us! So, go ahead and kill me or let the first mate flog me, or show some courage and cut me loose and then we’ll see who’s the better man. I’m twice the man you’ll ever be!”
“Oooooo,” the pirates said. The pirate captain turned to them with one eyebrow raised and grinned. He turned back to Thomas.
“You’re a salty lad. I like salty lads. Here, I’ll give you a choice. You can come with us” - the pirate planted a fierce kiss on his lips - “or stay here and be flogged to death.”
“If those are my only two options, I choose to go with you,” Thomas said in a quiet voice.
The pirate captain drew his cutlass and cut the bonds holding Thomas to the mast with a single stroke.
“After that little speech you gave, I suspect you don’t want to join my crew. Very well, we’ll drop you off at the nearest safe port and you can take your chances.”
As Thomas untangled himself from the ropes and rubbed his wrists, the pirate leader turned to his men. “All right, lads, to your work. Open the hold and pull out the booty. Paddy, you’re in charge of the offloading. Boarding crew, keep a watch on these fellows. Roaring Randy, you’re in charge on deck. Frenchie, you’re with me. We’re off to the captain’s quarters to find the pay chest.”
The pirates hurried about their tasks. One of them with a friendlier face than the others came up, clapped Thomas on the shoulder and said, “I’m Seamus. From London, originally. Worked
as a chimney sweep since I was old enough to walk. The work had me coughing so badly, I would have died before twenty if I hadn’t gone to sea. Plus, the sea air helped my complexion. I have a lovely complexion, don’t you think?”
Thomas looked him up and down. He did look like a hale and hearty lad and he certainly had a fine face.
“You look much better than the average chimney sweep, that I’ll grant you,” Thomas said. “It’s a pity you didn’t stay an honest man.”
A flicker of annoyance passed over Seamus’ features. “Don’t be so quick to judge a stranger, friend. Men like us have had our fill of judgement. You should know that as well as I. Come, let’s go below and gather your things.”
It didn’t take long. Thomas had only a small sea chest filled with a change of clothes and a few personal items. He had grown up the second son of a struggling farmer. His father was now an old man in his fifties, broken by the land. His older brother had already started a family, and there was no room for Thomas on the farm, so he had gone to sea. It seemed the natural choice for someone like him. He had few mementoes from home and he did not miss it.
As he gathered his things from the middle deck, he marveled that the pirates had not touched anything owned by the sailors of the Virtue.
He and Seamus returned on deck. The pirates were hard at work, having formed an efficient line of men to pass the kegs and boxes onto their own ship, where a team was stowing them in the hold. A lusty shanty carried their work. The crew of the Virtue still stood on the far end of their ship, watching the proceedings with a grim eye. There would be no cargo bonus for the crew with this voyage. Captain Stone and the first mate glared at Thomas as he passed, hate and disgust emanating from their faces.
Thomas reached over the railings of both ships and set his chest on the deck of the Manhunter. He was not ready to step aboard yet. He had something he wanted to do first.
