Chapter 10
A Souvenir
The Augustus floated along under the star scattered sky. The ship was quiet. Only a few solemn lanterns to keep the darkness from engulfing it whole. Locke couldn't sleep. His body was exhausted, from repairing the Augustus for the third time that day, yet his brain was still wired with excitement. He stirred in his upper deck hammock. He had been assigned one after they escaped the storm, and he was finding it difficult to sleep in. The ropes were digging into his skin; their braided shape etched deeply into his flesh. He was accustomed to the luxury of his own bed. He tossed, yet the marks remained, he turned, and newly formed ones took their place. After much deliberation he gave up. Sleep would come maybe if he was less anxious. With all the day's excitement he hadn’t gotten a chance to satisfy his curiosity. He sprung from his mesh nest and began exploring the ship.
The lower decks seemed labyrinthian in their complexity. Locke weaved his way through aisles of slumbering crew mates attempting not to wake them. He made his way up through the hatch and onto the main deck to breath in the fresh sea air.
Across the deck he spotted Bellamy's luminous blonde hair in the lantern light, standing high atop the forecastle. He made his way over to the stairs, and pulled himself up, using the railings. As Locke reached the top of the stairway he noticed another figure standing beside Bellamy. The two were chatting away. Locke recognised him as the boatswain from earlier.
Bellamy noticed Locke drawing near and waved him down. “Can’t sleep huh?” He asked the groggy Locke.
Locke shrugged. “I’m too used to Lenore’s incessant snoring.” He said sarcastically.
“Girl back home?” The boatswain asked.
“Sister.” Locke replied
“Locke, this is Silas.” Bellamy said introducing the two.
Silas was a built young man, probably a few years older than Locke. He had dark skin, pulled taut over his athletic frame. A large tuft of natted black hair lay atop his head. The sides and back had been completely shaved and were covered in ink. A sprawling tattoo stretched across the back of his head and neck, from ear to ear. A giant skull entangled with a snake that was prevailing in battle over an eagle, it’s serpentine form constricting the bird's neck. A smattering of scars peppered his body including a giant gash across his bare chest.
He wore a dark vest upon his shoulders but his torso was otherwise bare. A burgundy sash lay loosely draped around his waist, which was also adorned with a flintlock and cutlass.
“Nice to meet you.” Locke said, shaking his hand.
“Likewise” Silas responded. “I suppose we have you to thank for the ship repairs.”
“Was glad I could help.” Locke said assuringly. “Well, don’t mind me; just came out to get some air.” He said as he propped himself upward to sit on the bannister. He looked onward as the two continued talking.
“Silas was just filling me in on some details. You know, chain of command, ship duties, what the captains like. That sort of thing. Silas is the boatswain so he’s kinda like third or fourth in charge.”
“Not bad, how’d you get that rank?” Locke asked.
“Well unlike Lana I couldn’t fuck my way to the top.” Silas jested. “Na, it wasn’t easy. Vicious runs a loyal crew. Getting them to respect someone other than our glorious captain ain’t easy.”
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“What about Lana, how’d she get her position, she really just fuck her way up?”
“Na I was just kidding. Lana commands a lot of respect, girls got balls.” He paused. “Literally she has a collection.” the boys eyes widened. “Getting Vicious to take a shining to you isn’t the hard part. It’s keeping his favor that can be an issue. She’s been quartermaster since before I joined up. She’s got something special going on and the crew loves her t’boot. And after her there’s me. As a Boatswain it’s my job to keep the sails masts and rigging in tip top shape.”
“So what dragged you onto the ship? Bellamy interjected.
“It must be over a year now. Joined up after the empire left me for dead. After beggin Sid not to kill me, he gave me one opportunity to prove myself and I seized it. Over time I earned the trust of my fellow sailors and in turn they promoted me to boatswain.”
“Wait, the captain’s not in charge of that kinda stuff?”
“No, you see, we’re all equal on this ship. Anything we do, gets put to a vote. The men choose who leads em, and it’s the job of the elected to do what’s in the best interest of the men.”
“So you even vote on the captaincy?”
“We sure do, but good luck deposing Sid though, I’m not sure the last time someone called for a captaincy vote. I’m pretty sure every single man and woman on this ship would gladly fall on their own sword for the guy.”
“They like him that much eh?”
”Of course. Vicious is the best captain the one sea has to offer. He gets shit done, doesn’t take shit from nobody, knows what he wants, and pays his people. Rome fears him and Carthage respects him. He’s got big plans too which really makes you feel like you're working for something important rather than a lot of these other crews just scraping by, you know, same shit different day kinda stuff.”
“Big plans eh?” Locke said, intrigued.
“Maybe some other time.” Silas responded with a smile. “But what about you guys, you made a pretty swift decision back there, what made you hop aboard?”
Recalling his moment on the gangplank, Locke responded “Adventure, I guess. Vicious told me if i wanted it I’d have to seek it myself. So here I am.”
Silas chuckled, “Of course he did. Well you’ll definitely find no shortage of that on the Augustus.”
The two of them looked at Bellamy.
“Well I wasn’t going to let you go alone and get yourself killed, leave Eleanore all by herself… but I guess she is now anyway... well that totally fuckin backfired.” Bellamy chuckled, a hint of regret in his voice. “Well it’s too late to turn back now. We’re just gonna have to make a name for ourselves, get voted captain and make our way back to Port Dover.”
The three of them laughed.
“Port Dover, that’s what your island’s called?” Silas asked rhetorically. “Strange little place you guys come from.”
“You think? It’s not that unordinary.” Locke said, kind of confused.
“A small remote island like that, to have power and other imperial luxuries, ain’t seen it in all my days sailing these seas.”
“Ah come on, It’s probably no different from an island like that one out there.” Locke said pointing at a small islet they were sailing by.
“I doubt that... That island’s cursed.” Silas whispered, a strained expression covered his face. “They say it’s inhabited by a witch; twisted and deformed she skulks the island. It is said that years ago imperials landed there. They were celebrating a great victory. Amongst the festivities, men began to disappear, their screams drowned out by cheers. Before anyone had noticed she used her dark magic to shroud the whole island in a thick green fog.” He continued, through pained eyes. “The imperials clawed at their throats as their airways burned. Blood seeped from their eyeballs, nostrils, and ears. Guts were found yards from bodies as if torn asunder. A second battalion was to rendezvous with them the next morning. They were greeted by the horror. Since then there have been stories of sailors marooning there, the bodies are found on the islands down current. Their skin, stark white; the life drained from their veins. Their faces stuck in contorted horror.”
Locke and Bellamy, amazed and horrified, were lost for words
“But that’s just what the stories say.” Silas said light heartedly.
“So they’re not true?” Bellamy asked.
“I don’t know.” Silas responded. “But I got no interest in finding out.”
“Well that’s enough ghost stories for me.” Locke stated. “Gonna try and get some rest before light. See ya guys.”
The guys waved goodbye and Locke made his way back to his hammock. Attempting to nest himself again in its wired mesh, he spotted the captain's log Lenore had given him, protruding out of his bag. He reached inside and pulled it out. As he flipped to the end he found his name -Ligarius- inscribed in the back. The name had been pressed firmly into the rear cover’s weathered leather. A warm smile formed across his face. He hadn’t been gone a day and he already missed her. He knew she’d understand. He just hoped she’d be alright by herself. He flipped through the empty pages, wondering where he’d start. He was going to have to freshen up on his sailing skills if he was going to live up to the book's name sake.