“Flint were cap’n, not me.” Vernon said crassly, “I were quartermaster. Were before I lost me leg. Lost that in a broadside, when others ended hung like dogs, at Corso Castle. All the same, Flint’s ship, the Walrus, were still heavy with gold, despite the blood she left in her wake.”

One of the younger sailors spoke up, voice full of a naive admiration, “He was the flower of the flock, was Flint!”

“He was a cocksucking cunt.” Vernon replied with a sneer, “He were certainly a cap’n. No doubt about it. I had laid nine hundred safe before I served that man. Two thou, after. That ain’t bad for any man who served before the mast. But life ain’t all in the earning. Many of the men here, they served with Flint, a time or another. Man made them rich.”

Taylor barely dared to breathe. Partly because she didn’t want to be caught spying on a crowd like this. Partly because what Vernon was saying terrified her. Mostly though, because she did not want to miss a single word.

“Just like old Pew. Man lost his sight. Didn’t stop him from spending twelve hundred pound a year, like a damned lord of Parli’ment.” Vernon continued, “But, where be the man now? Dead and under hatches. A year before? Bastard were starving. Begging, stealin’, cutting throats. Gold ain’t to be trusted. It ain’t a future to be had.”

“Well… I s’pose if you don’t spend it, then it isn’t… Much use?” The young seamen tried to defend his position.

“Gold t’ain’t much use for fools, you can say that for certain.” Vernon chuckled, “But… You’re young. If you’re as smart as you are proud, then you can be a man. Then you can make gold to serve you in your old age.”

Taylor was jealous. She had hoped that Vernon saw her as something special. She saw the man that way. He knew who she was, what she was, and treated her as he was now treating this other young sailor.

Maybe the man just naturally lay to flattery, and she meant nothing to him.

The crack of her heart breaking might well have been heard by the crowd, if they weren’t so wrapped up in what the cook was saying.

“Here is the thing about all men o’ fortune. They live rough, they risk swingin’, but eat and drink like fighting cocks. When a cruise be done, instead o’ hundreds of farthings, it be hundreds of pounds in their pockets.” Vernon stated heavily, “So where it go? Rum. A good fling. A beautiful gal. Then it spent, and they lay to see again.”

“It’s a life.” The young sailor said proudly.

Vernon laughed, “Or you could be like me. I puts some away. Some here. Some there. Never all in a place. I’ve lived easy, but never much denied myself a thing o’ the heart. But when I done with the sea, I’ll be sleeping soft, and eatin’ dainty. All the same, I started before the mast, like you.”

“If you have so much aside, then why are you here?” The sailor asked curiously.

He chuckled, “Ah, I never said I weren’t one to be seduced by more. Me missus has the bulk, back at the bar. All the same, she ain’t tied by me. Might be gone, might be done, by time we get back. But… Flint? Flint’s treasure is a thing not to be known.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“A thing to be sure.” The young sailor’s tone changed, “But lookin’ here. How long are we going to stand off? I’ve had it with Cap’n Taylor! He done hazed me, cocksucker. I want to go into that cabin. I want his pickles and wines, and shit. I wanna -”

“Israel.” Interrupted Vernon, “Your head ain’t much for thinkin’. Never was. But your ears are big enough to hear me, so you best do it, lad. You berth forward, you live hard. You speak softer than the fuckin’ rats, and you keep sober. Until I give the word, you live that way, or you die in the sea.”

Taylor recognised the name. The voice, too, now she had a face to put to it. The angry coxswain made a growl, “I ain’t got no say, do I? But all the same. When it be? When?”

“When?” Vernon said in disbelief, “At the last moment we can manage! That’s when. Cap’n Taylor is a first rate seaman, and sails the blessed ship for us. The squire and doctor have a map, and we don’t damn well know where it is, do we?”

“We’re all sea men, here.” Israel took offence.

“If I was as sure of all of you, I’d have the cap’n navigate us halfway back again, before I struck.” Vernon sneered. “We can steer a course, but who’s to set one? But… I know you and yours. I’ll finish ’em at the island. A pity. But you’ll never be happy until your drunk. After the island, you’ll get your chance.”

“Easy!” Cried Israel. “Who’s crossin’ you?”

“I’ve seen more brisk and bright lads like you drying in the sun at the Execution Dock, than I seen ships.” Vernon replied, “All for this damned hurry. You hear me? I seen a thing or two at sea. I might be knowin’ what I speak of. If you lay your course, you could right well ride in carriage on the morrow. But no. Not you. You’ll have a mouthful of rum tomorrow, and go hang.”

“Christ. Everyone know you a chaplin, Edward.” Israel said in frustration, “But others could steer as well as you. THey like fun. They didn’t die high and dry. They could know some fun.”

“Pew was that sort. He died a beggar. Flint, too. He died by the rum. Where be any of these?”

“Fine. Agree to be disagreein’.” Israel said in frustration, “But when do we lay on these? And what are we doin’ with ’em, anyhow?”

Vernon’s voice took on a hint of pride, “That, I call business. Well, what do you reckon? Put ‘em ashore? That would be the way aboard the ol’ England. Or cut ’em down like pork? That were the way of Flint and Billy Bones.”

“‘Dead men don’t bite.’” Israel quoted someone, “That were the way of Billy. But he dead.”

“Right you are. But… This time things are serious. Duty be duty.” Vernon said grimly, “I give my vote to death. I don’t want none of these comin’ out of no shadow when I riding in coach about Parliament. When the times comes, we let rip.”

“You’re a man!” Israel said in astonishment.

“Two things I’ll say, though.” Vernon continued with a dark tone that sent chills down Taylor’s spine. “I claim Trelawney. When the time comes, I want to tear that squire’s dick off and feed it to ’im, meself.”

“Two…?” Israel asked hesitantly.

“Any man dare lay a hand on my Taylor, I be laying him down to Davey Jones.”

Taylor was near to shaking in fear. She was no longer certain about Edward Vernon, at all. She had to admit that she had been falling for the man. He was a tough one, but cared so deeply for everyone.

Or she’d thought that before she found out he was a member of the crew that had burned the Nightingale down. That had come after the old pirate that had taken up residence, and hadn’t cared who got in the way.

If she was found spying… All she needed was for one of them to want an apple, and she’d end up dead. Or worse, if the rest discovered she had no carrot between her legs.

As she was busy panicking, she heard Israel cajole Vernon into letting them all have some rum. They gave a cheer to flint, and to themselves, and a couple other things before the voices slurred in song.

A brightness fell across the barrel, and she looked up in fear. Instead of a face looking down, she found the moon had risen, and was turning the sails silver.

A voice cried out loudly, “Land ho!”