Hades's Revenge (7 page)

The seas too seemed to feel their discontent
and answered them with the oncoming of a storm. The frigate was
tossed between swells as if volleying between two angry teams, each
trying to show they were the most powerful making the ship their
punching bag. Nary a soul onboard wasn’t feeling the stirrings of
nausea in the pit of their bellies—even the well-seasoned old salts
passed on eating the next morn.

Aching and worn out from the sleepless
night, William and Jessop headed up to the deck to find the way
lined with men sour-faced and staring. Intentional bumps and
tripping made it almost impossible to pass. Once they did, Horace
stood on deck with a strong arm of men around him, giving William
and Jessop no way out but straight for Horace. Both men stopped in
front of him arms crossed before them and dreading whatever was to
come next.

“I trust y’all rested up, for we ’ave a wee
task that needs doing. Since yer the new’ins on the ship, the
task’s be fall’n to y’all,” he said with a toothless smile.

The ship listed hard beneath them with the
rolling waves so high one could not see the horizon when caught in
the trough betwixt two crests. It was an eery feeling, but the
least of their problems at the moment.

Next to Horace, two men carrying ropes came
forward, knelt and proceeded to tie their ankles. Another hard lean
to the port side and William stepped backwards out of his ropes to
keep his balance, where as Jessop’s rope bearer had already formed
the knot and yanked it hard using the force of the rocking to
tighten it. Jessop caught himself from falling by grabbing the side
of the boat giving him a terrifying view of the deep trough they
were headed down in to. Holding on for his life, his rope friend
extracted one of his hands shoving a rusty dull shucking knife into
his palm.

“Fear not yer task at hand, might be a bit
more dangerous on a day like today then another, but y’all be
fine,” Horace started as Jessop was slung onto the rail by two men
and teetering on his stomach trying to balance himself.

“Tiny, here, will be holding yer rope while
you scrape barnacles from the water line,” Horace said pointing to
a frail looking man with a grin of blackened teeth holding the rope
that was attached to his ankles. He looked as if he could barely
carry his own weight let alone a man of Jessop’s height and build
of nine and a half links and a stone shy of two hundred weight.
Jessop could see William wrestling three men trying to tie his
ankles at hearing what was to be done with them.

“Days a wasting…” Horace said signaling with
a hand gesture to heave Jessop over, but the ship shifted in
Jessop’s favor in time for a bellow from behind to be heard by
all.

“What’s this? A barnacle crawl on a day as
such? Horace, yer cruel heart will be yer death one day,” the
captain acknowledged petting the squealing pig tucked under an arm.
The boat lurched sideways suddenly knocking his arm into the rail
and shooting the pot belly pig into the abyss of water below.

The arms that held William and Jessop all
but disappeared as the men’s attentions were on the beloved pet
that suddenly emerged from the depths only to be swept out of sight
over the crest of a waiting wave. Jessop quickly turned to William
and said over the roar of the sea, “Take my rope and hold tight.”
With one swift move he tossed the dull knife away, grabbing a sure
to be sharp blade from a nearby pirate and cut his ankles free. He
grabbed the rope that William held tightly and leapt into the water
after the next cresting wave and the pig.

“Salty…” the captain shouted as all watched
from the rail.

William wrapped the rope around his waist
and watched with the others for them to appear once more. The tiny
pig was squealing but losing the battle of staying afloat in such a
turbulent, foamy sea. Jessop was swimming furiously but making
little progress. Glimpses of the two came and went while the
pirates held their breaths each time the figures disappeared behind
a wall of water.

William released more rope to Jessop. When
man and pig were spotted, Jessop was an arm’s length from the pig,
but the pet went under and the crest blocked their view once more.
When the ship met the crest of the next wave, neither of the two
overboard were visible. Only frothy foam of pale green was where
they had been.

Glances were thrown from one pirate to
another, and the captain cried out in mourning as they moved into
the lap of the next wave.

They’d all given up on Jessop and the tiny
three-legged pig, but William hadn’t. He’d seen how strong Jessop
was and knew better than to give up just yet.

As the ship moved to the next crest, William
yelled out pointing, catching everyone’s attention, “There! There
they are!” Jessop was struggling to keep afloat but he had a tight
grip on the unmoving pig. William braced himself and put his weight
into the rope and walked backwards making little change in the
distance between the roped captives and the ship.

Horace, Harry, and several others ran to his
assistance towing the line back upon the ship. When they met the
far side, other shipmates took to the rope and made their haul to
the opposite side. In a matter of seconds and before the slide into
the next pit of undulation, Jessop was out of the water and
bouncing and banging against the side of the frigate as the last
bit of rope was retrieved.

Once on board Jessop put his entire mouth
over the snout of the animal and puffed a few tiny breaths into the
still body. A cough and a squeal from the pig and all the men
cheered as the captain reclaimed his little friend. One of the crew
offered a coat to the soaking Jessop. A giant of a man patted
William on the back so hard he lost his balance.

“I owe ye a great debt, Mr. Andrews,” the
captain said. “Fin, crack open rum. Every man aboard will drink
their fill today.”

“But, Captain, we’ve only a butt of rum left
an’ we shan’t be traveling to the Caribbean fer another three
score.”

“Aye, Fin, but let us celebrate today, and
settle the debt tomorrow, shall we?” the captain said and the men
cheered and carried Jessop into the shelter of the middle deck and
the galley to revel in the bravery of Jesse Andrews and his loyal
friend William Rees.

* * *

Though the weather above the decks was
abominable, the celebration below deck was full of cheer. The
absolute minimum of work was done above to maintain course and look
out for enemies who might attack, though great efforts were made to
trade off so all could partake in the merriment.

William pulled out dice from his pocket,
which he had hand carved from scraps of wood he’d found. He had
taken up whittling on the
Victory
to pass his time and had
gotten very good. A stout pirate sat down at the sight of the dice
and they began to play a round of liars dice.

Every sailor made their way at some point
during the celebration to pat William and Jess on the back for the
valiant deed in saving the captain’s beloved pig. Even Salty who
rarely left Stillwater’s arms limped across the tankard strewn
table to nuzzle Jessop under the chin as a gesture of thanks.

Jessop rubbed the animal’s ears and
scratched him under the chin. “May I ask, Captain, how did Salty
come to have only three legs?”

The chatter and laughter quieted at the
question and the captain turned a stern eye upon the crew around
him, staring them down, to which not one pirate met his gaze.
Jessop had touched upon an obviously sore subject.

“’Twas a bad time fer ‘
The Revenge.
’
We’d run out a supplies and thar weren’t a sight o’ land to speak
of. Back then, Salty roamed the decks without me, makin’ his rounds
fer a scratch behind the ear from one who might be givin’. When a
starvin’ nave, who won’t be named…” the captain said glaring into a
crowd of sailors staring at their boots, “snatched my poor Salty
and took a cleaver to him. Starvation can do terrible things to a
man’s mind. Twern’t for the fast thinking of Bean’s, the cook, ol’
Salty might have died. Bean’s ain’t the brightest candle aboard, or
the best cook for that matter, but he earned my gratitude that dark
day, by grabbing an iron from the fire and burnin’ the wound shut.
The smell of cooked meat from Salty’s wound brought another
onslaught of famish’d blokes nearly bitin’ Salty’s ear off.”

Again a glare of malice went out to the
groveling sea dogs and as before not a one would meet his eye.

“But I’m not above forgivin’ a ravenous man
a moment of derangement,” he said begrudgingly to the men.

Realizing it might be better to change the
subject, Jessop raised his flagon in a toast. “To Beans!”

Cheers of agreement and the echo of ‘Bean’s’
was heard among the sailors. To further veer the conversation, the
fast paced cheery chanty began by a strong clear voice followed by
a squeeze box and penny whistle. Toes were tapping and all joined
in for the chorus, including the captain.

Oh, the ships will come and the ships will
go,

As long as waves do roll

The sailor lad, likewise his dad,

He loves the flowing bowl:

A lass ashore we do adore,

One that is plump and round, round,
round.

When the money is gone, it’s the same old
song,

Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

Singing, Hey! laddie, ho! laddie,

Swing the capstan ’round, ’round, ’round

When the money is gone, it’s the same old
song,

Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

When Jack is ashore he beats his way

Towards some boarding-house:

He’s welcome in with his rum and gin,

And he’s fed with pork and souse:

For he’ll spend and spend and never
offend

But he’ll lay drunk on the ground, ground,
ground.

When the money is gone, it’s the same old
song,

Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

Singing, Hey! laddie, ho! laddie,

Swing the capstan ’round, ’round, ’round

When the money is gone, it’s the same old
song,

Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

When Jack is old and weatherbeat,

Too old to roustabout,

In some rum-shop they’ll let him stop,

At eight bells he’s turned out.

Then he cries, he cries up to the skies:

I’ll soon be homeward bound, bound,
bound.”

When the money is gone, it’s the same old
song,

Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

Singing, Hey! laddie, ho! laddie,

Swing the capstan ’round, ’round, ’round

When the money is gone, it’s the same old
song,

Get up, Jack! John, sit down!

Working with O’Donnel was pleasant enough—he
had a sense of humor that William and Jessop enjoyed. Days grew to
weeks, weeks unfolded into months. In the three months they were at
sea, only twice did they come into port and both in the same spot,
once when they came back to the east coast from the west and again
after a voyage up to Greenland, Nova Scotia and through the islands
of Newfoundland to Great Diamond Island off Maine. Here the
officers and hand-picked sailors went to shore for drinking and
carousing. The rest manned and protected the ship from
marauders.

Jessop noted on both occasions that the
captain also went to shore but not with the men. When Jessop asked
where the captain goes on such trips, Fin told him, ‘it was none of
his business,’ O’Donnel had no clue, and Bloody Harry looked at him
sideways before explaining the captain went to visit a faceless,
nameless man who often bought and traded goods they had plundered.
The man insisted on anonymity and would only deal with Captain
Stillwater himself. Jessop thought this to be odd at the least, but
what did he know of pirating ways and selling
booty-wares—nothing.

Jessop was thankful they had not run into
any ships that the captain deemed to raid, or another ship looking
to pillage the
Revenge
. Jessop was not looking forward to
another blood bath like that upon the
Victory
. Sailor work
kept William and Jessop busy and though William admitted he missed
his sister once in a while, he seemed to be enjoying himself and
learning a great deal from O’Donnel. Unlike the cooper on
Victory
, O’Donnel kept on top of his work. There was plenty
to do, but also plenty of time to explore the ship.

Like the
Victory
, the
Revenge
had a large array of items stowed away from plundering other ships,
though the
Revenge
seemed to have more treasure than odd
military and domestic items. It reminded Jessop of wandering
through the attic of his home. Once treasured articles now
discarded and hidden from view and collecting dust. Many items in
the attic were covered with soiled sheets protecting then from the
bulk of the dirt that might happen upon them.

Here in the belly of the ship, though, items
were crated or put into barrels for protection from possible water
damage and strapped to the ribs of the vessel. Finer things like
jewelry, gems, and coins were kept under lock and key from a stray
pirate looking to fill his pocket. Each visit there, Jessop was
escorted by Master Gordon. He took his job and life very seriously
as seen with his lack of expression and cold stares.

Despite the ever present guard, Jessop
enjoyed taking stock of the spoils and making sure all items were
protected from the harsh life of sea voyaging. He found new items
every time he rummaged through the content looking for cracks and
breaks in the containers.

William was becoming quite proficient in his
whittling and carving. Once or twice O’Donnel had to reprimand him
when he would spend too much time on a project making it ‘pretty,’
as O’Donnel called it.

“Yer not makin’ a hope chest fer a dainty
lassie. Yer makin’ a mooring cleat. We’re here ta fix ’em, not
pretty ’em.”