Hades's Revenge

by Tolles, T. Lynne

  “Right away, sir,” Rees said, steadied by Marcus on one side and Phillip on the other he hobbled out the door and up the stairs.

  * * *

  At dinner with Simmons, Donovan, Penn, and Day, Jessop was celebrating after Day explained to the others how the captain had relayed to Day that Jessop had disarmed him twice that morning. A feat not easily done and one worth an extra few pints of beer and rum.

  Day set up a line of shot glasses, running the rum bottle across them in a sloppy fashion spilling more on the table than in the glasses. They filled their pints with beer and held the shot glass above the stein. Day announced, “Anchors away, boys,” and they all dropped their shot glasses in their steins and drank their way to the bottom, retrieving the shot glasses in their teeth when done.

  After a game of liars dice and a few more pints, Jessop was slurring his words and ready for bed. Simmons and Penn followed him out for a piss off the deck. When Jessop turned, still lacing his trousers, he bumped into Rees.

  Rees shoved him, but Jessop was too drunk to notice. He staggered as if on rough seas to the ladder of the middle deck.

  “Bafoon,” Rees said under his breath as he watched Jessop make his way down.

  Simmons grabbed him by the arm and said, “That bafoon you’re referring to is the reason you’re standing on two legs instead of one, Mr. Rees. You might show him a bit more respect.”

  “What do you mean, sir?” Rees said, embarrassed to be heard by Simmons.

  Penn stepped next to him and said, “What he means is Mr. Simmons was ready to amputate your leg and Mr. Aster thought to save it.”

  “That’s right, he even cast your leg in plaster with the help of Phillip and Marcus, built that contraption to get you to your meals and bed and took up the majority of your duties,” Simmons continued.

  “He did?” Rees said scratching his chin.

  “He did, indeed,” Penn said.

  “I had no idea,” Rees admitted.

  “Now you do, so quit your bellyaching and show him a bit of gratitude,” Simmons said as the two men turned away.

  * * *

  Jessop woke in the morning, his head throbbing and feeling very dehydrated from his over drinking the night before. But despite how he felt, he had made a commitment to the captain and he refused to break word.

  The sun was rising in the east as he stumbled to the deck. He was blasted with a gust of briny wind that made one of the sails snap to attention.

  “Looking a little peeked, Mr. Aster,” the captain stated as he pulled his sword from its scabbard.

  “Yes. I drank a bit too much last night.”

  “Celebrating, were we?”

  “Maybe—a bit,” Jessop guiltily admitted.

  “I suppose I’ll have to work you a little harder then,” he said getting into his sparring stance and sizing up the depilated Jessop.

  The swords clanged as they gracefully danced around the deck resembling some violent version of a waltz. When the captain pinned Jessop’s sword to the railing, he said, “Come now, you can do better than that, son. You’re fighting like Crock,” which Jessop surmised was an insult.

  “Sorry, sir. I’m not myself this morn,” he responded.

  “Lyeth with the right side as thin as you can, towards your enemy, pointing no higher than the shoulder. Trusting to your swords defense; for thereby your enemy hath little room to hit, and you the less to defend.”

  Cling, clang, cling, clang.

  “Also a good guard discourageth the enemy to offend, and is ready always to defend. He that dazzles much never defends well: for if you offend when he dazzles, he can neither certainly defend himself, nor offend you.”

  Cling, clang, cling, clang.

  “Sir, might I make and observation of grievance regarding one of your officers?”

  Cling, clang, cling, clang.

  “If you must.”

  “Are you aware that Mr. Crock conscripted these men and myself, in order to fulfill your demand for sailors?”

  He easily disarmed Jessop and stood still in contemplation.

  “I was not,” he said uncomfortably then took stance for another volley of sword dancing. “Though my ignorance does not purge me of guilt, nor do I applaud his methods, alas, his resourcefulness serves the king and our priorities to defend our nation.”

  This did not sit well with Jessop, but he had to admire his absolute loyalty to his men and his king.

  “You do not find enslaving men to service wrong?”

  “My feelings are irrelevant. I do not ask how, I only ask that orders are followed and lawful, in which both are in account. Your apprehension is no different than an informal drafting of services.”

  “I suppose. What, pray tell, are our orders? I can only surmise from our heading and the distance we’ve traveled, that we’ve rounded the cape and are somewhere on the western coast of the Americas.”

  He seemed pleasantly surprised by Jessop’s calculations. “You’ve been talking to Mr. Brown. Yes. Though I’m not obliged to tell you details, I will say we are north of a port called San Francisco, to defend and deflect the Spanish and French from staking any more claim to these lands,” the captain said, dodging a lunge from Jessop.

  Suddenly a shout came from above in the main mast. A sailor was excitedly warning of spying a ship. The swords made one last clank together before the captain had his sword tucked away and was pulling a spyglass from his belt. He extended it to its full length and looked in the direction the man had pointed through the misty fog of the morning.

  Crock appeared out of nowhere as if magically summoned as soon as the captain declared, “Man the battle stations. There be pirates in our midst.”

  Crock started shouting orders, bells rang, and men were running every which way. If a bystander had been there, they would have thought utter chaos had broken out, but in reality, everyone knew what needed to be done.

  “Mr. Aster, we’ll need your steel on deck to defend the Victory.”

  “Me?”

  “Anyone who can handle himself with a sword as you is needed. Pirates are notoriously deadly in these parts.”

  “Can’t we out run them?” Jessop asked.

  “We’re fully loaded. Even if we weren’t, a frigate like that can out maneuver us even in a squall. Hopefully we out man and arm her, but I won’t lie, it will be a bloody day if they plan to attack.”

  “How will we know if they plan to attack?”

  “We are rerouting with a hard starboard turn. If they turn with us, we can only assume attack is eminent. Go to the armory and get yourself armed with a musket, pistol, and supplies—now get.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Pirates, Jessop thought as he headed to Master Day to get his supplies and into position. Of course there were pirates on the sea, everyone knew that. Horrible stories of pirates and their plunders, destruction and murder were told in every tavern near a port, but it had never dawned on Jessop he might encounter them himself. They always seemed to be, just that, stories, but this was real. He would be fighting for his life and the lives of the crew.

  It was apparent by the commands and clattering of more bells that the pirate ship was in pursuit. It was time to take his stand with the others and defend his life and the ship.

  * * *

  The next few hours were the most horrifically bloody Jessop had ever experienced. It started with a boom that muffled the rest of the remaining yells, booms, and cracks, replacing them with a high pitched ring over all the sounds of death and ruin.

  Though the Victory was well armed and supplied, Captain Kramer was right, the pirate ship maneuvered around the Victory as if it were sitting anchored in port. The name seen on the bow was Hades’s Revenge and as far as Jessop could tell by its inhabitants, it was well named. They went ’round and ’round the Victory exhausting the cannon ball reserves to the point that not just Phillip was running up and down to get more.

  Men were running everywhere, trying to supply the cannon
s and when they couldn’t keep up with the onslaught, the marauders swung aboard on ropes, like monkeys. Others dropped long ladders from deck to deck. In no time the Victory was overrun with pirates.

  Muskets and pistols fired, filling the deck with white-gray smoke from the gun powder ejecting their projectiles. The deck was littered with bodies, moving and not, but all bloodied.

  Jessop did his best to keep the pirates at bay as did his comrades, but there seemed to be no end to their numbers. Jessop had been lucky so far, only suffering a minor flesh wound to the arm. He hadn’t even felt it due to the adrenalin that ran rampant through his bloodstream. He noticed it only when he saw blood on his sleeve, but there was no time to worry about his wound, it was time to fight for his life.

  He couldn’t keep up with the loading of the pistol and tossed it aside and pulled his sword from its scabbard. He could only hear Captain Kramer’s voice in his head telling him what he should be doing. He sliced and chopped through a jungle of pirates leaving two squirming pile of bodies and parts on either side of him like a wake made from a boat.

  It wasn’t until he found himself face-to-face with the man whose voice was telling him what to do, but HE was not speaking. He sat propped against the broken main mast, his hands in his lap holding or maybe trying to put back the parts spilled out from the massive gash in his abdomen.

  “Captain Kramer,” Jessop yelled when he saw him. The captain looked up at the familiar voice, dazed from his injury. With his last breath he whispered “Jess” then went slack into a pose of death that Jessop knew he would remember all his days.

  He wished to stop the world and mourn the man he had come to greatly respect, but there was no time for nostalgia. A war was raging around him and he had been lucky to have the few moments he had with his friend and mentor.

  Reality beckoned his attention as he heard and felt the force of a sword passing very near his right ear. He turned his sight to the brutal fighting. He slashed and stabbed making a wide circle around himself and when he had a moment to breath he saw William backed to the deck railing—three pirates thrusting and swiping their shiny long blades coated in red blood.

  Jessop raced to his side. Unaware of his coming up behind them, Jessop was able to kill one and injure another giving William time to catch his breath. The last pirate was not so easily removed and Jessop fought hard and long before he was able to anticipate the pirate’s move into a lunge. Jessop was able to spring to the pirate’s left and trip him with his legs. Once he was off balance, a stab to the heart was all that was needed to fall him.

  William’s fighting skills were not great but he was holding his own for the moment. Jessop focused on newcomers who boarded in an endless rush of tides and ebbs. He was making headway for a while until he heard a yelp from William who had incurred a slice to his sword arm.

  A quick look to his young comrade took his attention off the pirate who came up from behind. Instead of running him through with a sword, he hit him on the side of the head with the pommel, knocking Jessop into a world of black.

  Chapter Six

  When Jessop awoke, he and William Rees were in a cage of sorts. It was barred on three sides and backed up to the inside of the hull. A foul smell of stagnate water sloshed in the middle of the room. The stench made him wrinkle his nose.

  Where am I?

  He could only assume on the pirate ship, but why were they not dead? Before Jessop was knocked out, there were very few Victory men still alive on deck. Why not make a clean sweep and kill them all? What could they hope to receive from the two of them? Jessop couldn’t see any reason why they had been saved.

  “Rees, are you all right?” Jessop asked with concern to the young man who slumped in the corner of the cage his forearms resting on his knees.

  “I’m okay. Couple of gouges and cuts but nothing that won’t heal.”

  Jessop rubbed his head where he’d been hit, wincing at first then realizing he had been bandaged.

  “You were hit hard. Don’t mess with it. I think I finally got the bleeding to stop,” William said.

  “Thank you,” Jessop responded a little dumbfounded by the show of concern.

  “It’s the least I could do. After all you’ve saved my life twice now.”

  “Twice?”

  William rubbed his leg and said, “Yes, my leg and now this.”

  “But…”

  “Penn and Simmons told me last night what you did to save my leg and my life.”

  “It’s nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

  “Not true. I can’t say I would have done the same for you a week ago.”

  Jessop nodded in acknowledgement. He knew this thank you was not easily given by William.

  “I suppose that’s true. Just so you know, I rarely agree with my father on most everything under the sun, though my political ignorance is no excuse for my father’s actions against the patriots.

  “If I were in your shoes, I may have been just as enraged as you have been with how easily the loyalists look the other way at how King George has handled things in America. My father’s wealth has kept me naive to the politics of Massachusetts, but here on the sea I am no better or worse than you. We are but the same.”

  “I guess we are,” William said with a smirkish smile. “I might add, we happen to be in a bit of a fix.”

  “Indeed. Why do you supposed they’ve kept us alive?”

  “Maybe they know who you are and plan to ransom you,” William surmised.

  “Unlikely and if you don’t mind I’d prefer them not to know such things.”

  “Why? It might mean your freedom?”

  “Let’s use this as a last resort. I’d rather be known for my own deeds than those of my father. Truth be told, aside from being taken against my will, I’ve rather enjoyed liberation from my father’s demands.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it was horrible for you,” William said sarcastically.

  “I know it might not seem like it to you, but I was just as much a prisoner in that life as we are right now,” Jessop said but by the look on William’s face he knew he didn’t believe it.

  Knowing it would do no good, he shook the gate hoping it would spring open and release them, but no such luck. He paced back and forth taking in his surroundings and assessing their situation.

  “Any ideas?” William asked.

  “Not a one. Even if we could flee this cage, there’s no way we can take on a whole crew of pirates—not to mention we have no weapons. And quite honestly, in the middle of the ocean, where might we go. We have no vessel to leave. For the time being we’ll have to do as our captors say until we have an opportunity to do otherwise.”

  “So we’re doomed to die at sea at the hands of pirates.”

  “Not necessarily. If they haven’t killed us by now, they must have some plan, otherwise why take two more mouths to feed.”

  “Who says they’re going to feed us?” William added.

  Jessop could only shrug at his prisonmate’s question. He had no idea what fate would befall them, but they were still alive and that was something to hold on to.

  * * *

  A weathered man with skin baked brown from the sun and roughened by wind and rain, brought a tin plate of two hardtack biscuits and two cups of beer. He slapped them down on the floor, eyeing Jessop and William suspiciously and shoved the items toward the bars with his foot, almost toppling the beers nearby. Not one word did he speak but his expression told Jessop he didn’t like them or approve of them being alive.

  He took his leave after a snort of disapproval when Jessop reached down to get the meal handing a biscuit to William along with a cup.

  “What do you suppose that was about?” William asked gratefully taking the food from Jessop.

  “Not sure, but he seems none too happy to have us around.”

  “Guess he’s as stumped as we are as to why we’re alive,” he said while gnawing on the brick of a biscuit.

  “That would be my guess, whi
ch only confuses me all the more. By the looks of things, our being alive is not their standard protocol, which I find even curiouser.”

  “I hope they don’t plan on fattening us up and eating us,” William said having broken off a tiny bit, rolling it around in his mouth in hopes of softening it with saliva.

  Jessop looked up at him stunned by the words.

  “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve heard stories of pirates eating a captive.”

  Jessop mulled over the concept of cannibalism then said, “They wouldn’t be giving us such items as hardtack if that were the case. I’m sure they plundered what they could from the Victory and she was fully stocked. If they were low on food and gear, they aren’t anymore.”

  “I suppose.”

  The beer felt good going down his dry, scratchy gullet and it took the sharpness out of the aches and pains he was starting to feel from fighting earlier, but no amount of beer would erase the picture his mind kept showing of Captain Kramer dying. Were he and William the only ones who survived the carnage on the Victory? He hoped not, but it seemed unlikely since there were no other prisoners locked below with them. As he chewed on his own rock of food he heard what sounded like several men making their way to them. He took another swig of beer before standing in greeting to the oncoming group. William followed his lead timidly.

  A chevron of three men strode towards them. The man in forefront was large but lean. He wore a cocked hat adorned with plumes of black ostrich feathers, a rare sight indeed. He wore a waist coat of red under a large cuffed frock-like coat of black embroidered with gold. He wore a wide leather baldric across his chest, armed with a heavily ornate sword. His heavy black boots were adorned with large silver buckles on the vamp. His face was stern under a very bushy mustache. In his arm he carried a three-legged pot belly pig. It was missing a rear leg and one of his ears looked as if torn in half. Though demure in size the pig squealed hostiley between snorts as if he were growling at Jessop and William as the three approached the bars.

  “Top of the day to ye and welcome aboard the Revenge, lads. I be the captain of this rogue infested heap. I goes by the name Cap’n Stillwater.” He pointed to his left. “This here is me first mate Fin Gordon and o’er here,” he pointed to his right, “is the finest boatswain this side of the Atlantic, Bloody Harry Cash. I wouldn’t be askin’ why we call ’im that if I were you or ye might be finding yerself a might bit bloody.” The pirates all had a long laugh among themselves.