Water lapped at the side of the rotting boardwalk as they passed a faded sign to a town without a name. Behind them, their ship bobbed in the inky black water, soon swallowed up by the thick fog. Captain Alek Corsair, one of the youngest pirates in this age, led his men into the town, lantern held high to show the way.
“I can’t see anything.” His first mate, Ivan, said beside him. He wouldn’t leave his captain’s side even if he did peer anxiously into the fog. “This looks like a ghost town.”
“Not afraid of a couple of ghosts, are ye?” A one-eyed pirate teased good-naturedly behind them.
Ivan glanced back, a sharp retort on his tongue that never came as something large and scaly slithered past their legs. Despite the wild swing of Alek’s lantern, they saw only a glimpse of green scales before the creature dove into the water with a loud splash. No one else said a word as the rotting boards shifted into a stone promenade. In the distance, muted by the thickness of the fog, a series of lights shone.
“So it is inhabited.” Alek murmured, half to himself.
They hadn’t known for certain when they’d acquired the map at knife-point, the blubbering of the salesman still fresh in his memory as he’d tried to warn them away from this place. A place steeped in legend. The very last place the infamous pirate Blackheart was seen alive. His treasure had to be near this place, hidden either in the bog lands or in a cove somewhere offshore. A lifechanging amount of gold and jewels, enough they could all retire young and put this life of piracy behind them.
The tavern rose from the fog with a quickness that nearly had them faceplanting the front of it. The lantern burned like a distant star next to the door which moved on silent hinges when Alek pulled it open, leading the way for his first mate and the five pirates trailing past. The rest of their crew, a group of twenty or so now, remained on the ship, content with playing cards and drinking until they returned.
“The name of the tavern was wiped off the door too.” Ivan said, keeping his voice low as they entered. He’d been raised a pampered nobleman, and despite years with them, his voice still bore the high and mighty lilt of a family with far too much wealth. That sort of voice would bring him trouble in these sorts of places. Alek kept a hand on the saber at his side as their eyes adjusted to the dimness inside. A candle-less chandelier swung above them as his crew took up the seats at a polished table by the door.
“Did you have trouble finding your way?” A voice asked from behind the bar.
Alek immediately set his sights on the gray-faced man who casually finished drying the cracked cup in his hand. “You were expecting us.”
A grin split the man’s scarred face. “We always get new guests when the fog rolls in.” He gestured to the stools before the bar with a hand that bore only two fingers. “Sit. Let me guess why you’re here. You’re looking for Blackheart’s treasure.”
Alek and Ivan sat on twin stools as a young woman with fiery red hair appeared from a back room, already carrying a silver tray laden with seven mugs filled to the brim with a sweet-smelling amber liquid. As one was set before each of their crew, the tavernkeeper gave a nod and said, “the good stuff. We keep it in the back for newcomers.”
Ivan took a tentative sip, but Alek leaned forward and asked, “what can you tell me about Blackheart’s treasure?”
A sigh. “Anything you wish to know, but I’m obligated to tell you this now: anyone who goes in search of the treasure dies.”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“They say Blackheart sold his soul to a forgotten god for gold and glory. The amount of gold he received would be enough for every one of my men to live a good, long life. That alone is enough to take this risk.”
A chair creaked from one of his crew while the tavernkeeper continued drying his cup. It must have been well and truly dry by now, but he kept at it, his dark eyes staring into Alek’s. The redheaded woman stood off to the side, in a dark corner, her emerald eyes reflecting the light of the lantern hanging from the bar.
“Tell me what you know.” Alek demanded.
Finally, the tavernkeeper set down his cup and rag then turned to look behind himself where several plagues, some well-worn and dented, had been nailed. The names of ships, Alek realized, as he recognized a few as some reported missing. In the center, surrounded by those of the missing, was the name of the most infamous ship to ever exist. The Forsaken. Blackheart’s ship. The tavernkeeper placed a hand on the plaque.
“Blackheart didn’t just sell his soul. He doomed every one of us on board with him.”
A thought struck Alek. “You’re Nikolai Essex. Blackheart’s first mate.”
“Aye.” The ghost of a smile. “Blackheart had been called something far different before we were cursed. He’d been my dearest friend for many a year so when we were starving, on the verge of mutiny, he asked if I would stand by him no matter the cost.” He turned back to Alek, his eyes suddenly serious. “He sailed us into dark waters and sacrificed a pair of prisoners we’d discovered from a poor merchant ship. We were desperate. He didn’t ask the god for gold nor glory. He asked for immortality.”
Alek snorted as the rest of his men guffawed. They’d been on the edge of their seats, listening to this crazed story, but now they knew it to be complete and utter bullshit. “Blackheart’s been dead for years. Everyone knows half of the rumors about his were exaggerated, including the one about selling his soul.” Even though he’d been the one to mention it, Alek didn’t believe a word of it. “Dead men tell the best tales after all.”
Nikolai gave him a look that would have curdled milk then nodded to the woman who slipped again into the backroom without a word. She returned quickly, a sack in her hand which she cradled carefully, close to her chest.
“No rumors about Blackheart exist.” The woman said, her voice clear as a bell as she pulled something from the bag with a flourish. “They are all true.”
A grinning skull sat in her hand, a tiny hole in the center of its temple. The five from around the table stood, their hands on their sabers, but neither Nikolai nor the woman seemed phased. It was Ivan’s quiet voice that broke the sudden tension.
“You said he asked for immortality, but if that’s his skull…”
Alek glanced at his first mate then back at the skull. “It’s a prop skull or some poor man you dug up from the bog. They’re trying to scare us from the treasure. It won’t work. We’ve seen worse on the open seas.”
“So ye after me treasure.” The skull spoke, startling Alek and his crew. “A pity ye’ll not see a bit of it.”
“What sorcery is this?” Alek asked, his hand firmly around the hilt of his saber. “What tricks are you pulling?”
“No tricks.” Nikolai held up his hands to show he was innocent.
“Nay, no trickery here.” The skull said. “Nicky only had one trick up his sleeve, and that was the day he put an icepick through my skull.”
Nikolai shrugged, unrepentant, then went back to drying his glass. He met the eyes of Ivan. “Every one of these ships had a crew just like you, and every one of them died trying to find this treasure. It isn’t worth it. Even if you think it is.”
“Alek…” Ivan glanced at his captain. “Maybe we should—”
“What if we took your precious captain then?” Alek asked, pulling his saber free and pointing it at the woman. “If it’s really Blackheart, then you can lead us to the treasure safely.”
The skull of Blackheart laughed even as Nikolai shrugged and said, “take him. Gods know I could use the break.”
“Aye. I ain’t been on the high seas in some time. It’ll be an adventure. A shame you boys got to die on my behalf though.”
The woman handed the skull to Alek who put away his saber to take it, confusion written across his face. “I would think you’d want to keep him safe here.”
“The captain always comes back.” The woman said, her eyes glittering. “We couldn’t be rid of him even if we wished it so.”
“I asked for immortality.” Blackheart chattered in Alek’s hand. “I didn’t ask for health or not to die. Ye’ve gotta be specific with these tricky gods of ours.”