Sounds and visions faded before me as I drifted in and out of the waking world. In my ears rang the clashing of swords, loud cracks of gunfire, and a woman screaming. As I lay there on the floor, I opened my eyes to see Captain Glass sprawled out on the floor next to me, blood trickling from his mouth and nose. I heard Rebecca cry out, quickly silenced by the sharp sound of a slap. As my vision further blurred, I witnessed Rebecca being thrown on the floor next to her husband before her face was kicked in by a black jackboot. Then, I faded to blackness.

After what seemed like mere moments, the smell of charred wood and smoke wafted up through my nose. I noticed the gentle swaying of the waves beneath me and heard the rhythmic rowing of oars by my side. I struggled to open my eyes and saw that I lay on a boat, being rowed away from the slowly sinking Chaesar being engulfed by a hellish blaze. As the horrific sight drifted farther and farther into the distance, I could not keep to my senses much longer, and drifted back into unconsciousness.

“Monsieur, wake up!”

Andrei’s familiar voice called out to me, but I could not bring myself to respond. I heard the sharp thwack of a slap, then a slow, sharp pain made its way through my cheek. I opened my eyes, and the world around me slowly came into focus, but I felt my head swell with the pain from the blow that had knocked me down.

“Good, you’re finally awake.”

Garlington.

I sat up from where I was to find myself bound at the wrists with sturdy rope. To my left sat Andrei, who was bound in a similar fashion. Captain Glass, Rebecca, and Eirene were nowhere to be seen. I found myself not in a prison, where I expected to be, but lying on sand on the beach. The heat of the sun had burned my skin, and it was only now that my body had realized the irritation. All around me stood British soldiers, and in front of me, leaning on a walking stick with a slightly purpled swollen cheek was Lord Garlington, flanked by another, much younger British officer, who stood before us amused, with his hands clasped behind his back. On his belt, he carried two swords: his own officer’s saber, and my shashka, tucked away in her scabbard.

“You have done me a disservice, sir,” said Garlington as he leaned closer to me. “You tried to kill me as I took you as friends into my own home. Truly, you have no honor.”

I wanted to tell him that I would gladly do it again, but my mouth was so dry that when I tried to speak, nothing came out but harsh, dry coughs. Garlington circled me like a wolf sizing up its prey, pounding the pommel of his walking stick into his palm as he went.

“I should have you hanged from a lamp post and have the gulls peck at your eyes.”

“I beg you, Your Grace!” whimpered Andrei. “I have no tolerance for pain! Please, just end me now!”

“Your serf, Lord Krym, shall be sent with the negroes to a plantation in the Americas, and there he shall remain until the worms burrow through his bones.”

I managed to sputter out “Where is crew?” before Garlington struck me with his walking stick. The sharpness of the blow was painful, but I did not give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out.

“You will not speak, sir. You have forfeited that privilege with me. However, I will tell you that your crew has been press ganged into the service of Post Captain Champion Barrett here.” The young officer beside him gave me a small nod. “They are a British crew and shall serve His Majesty once again, rather than under that delusional mick pirate ‘Johnny Tarr’ or whatever his name might be. Have you any last words before I hand you over to Post Captain Barrett for the execution of your fate?”

I spat on his finely-shined boots and rasped, “Idi k chortu! Your mother fuck! Your father fuck! Your dog fuck!”

Garlington’s response to my eloquent remark was another whack with his walking stick to the side of my face. The blow did not stop me from laughing at him through the pain.

“Take them away” was all the governor could say.

Captain Barrett, with a polite nod, ordered his men to haul us up and take us with him. He walked behind me with a jaunty step and whistled a tune until we were well out of Garlington’s earshot.

“Shame about your old captain and his wife.” His tone was soft and respectful, without a drip of sarcasm to it. “After your crew was arrested and the slaves were brought ashore, they were both bound to the masts while Lord Garlington set the ship ablaze. My men watching from shore reported that they were quite disturbed by the African lady yelling ‘liberty or death’ over and over until the fire consumed her. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

My heart sank at the news. Even though I had not known them for very long, Captain Glass and Lady Rebecca had been quite good to me and Andrei. I would have to mourn them in private, though, since I did not want my new captain to be suspicious of my allegiances and motivations. However, another thing had crossed my mind – where was Eirene? If she shared the fate of the crew…

“Where are we going?” whimpered Andrei. He sounded like he was about to piss himself.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t get too excited.” I looked at him as if he had made the world’s worst joke. “What Lord Garlington does not know will not hurt him. Follow me and you shall see.”

The little pep in his step told me that Captain Barrett enjoyed making the governor look like a fool, and the fact that he did not execute us gave me hope for Eirene, however distant. Indeed, we walked past the castle’s gallows, where the neglected corpses of poor slaves hanged free in the wind for all to see, but none of the Chaesar’s crew. Passing those, we headed straight back towards the harbor, where a jolly boat lay waiting for us. In the distant open ocean, a fully rigged warship with its mast flying the British colors stood out among the flotilla of guineamen and merchant vessels.

“You said Chaesar was sunk, yes?” I said after we climbed into the jolly boat.

“Indeed,” he replied, giving me a quick glance before casting his eyes on a vessel in the horizon.

“Where is crew?”

“Well,” he said with a grin, “My ship the Peregrine had previously engaged with Mohammedan corsairs off the coast of Tunis. The enemy inflicted no small number of casualties on us, and yes, even succeeded in killing our captain. But then, even though I was wounded myself, I took command and rallied the men. I drew my weapon and without regard to my own life, leapt over the gunwales and into the hail of enemy fire. When the men saw me board the enemy’s ship, they rushed to my aid, for they would rather die than see their brave officer fall, and thus the tide of battle was turned and we emerged victorious.”

Barrett now had his chest puffed out like a rooster, and crowed just as much. It was almost as if he had forgotten my question and was blinded by his own narcissism.

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“Yes, good, but where is crew?”

Ignoring my words entirely, he stretched out his arms in a grand gesture towards the ship we were approaching.

“Behold, gentlemen, the Peregrine!”

Indeed, the ship was a sight to behold. Her gun deck was bristling with firepower. I counted twenty-five guns on her larboard side facing towards us. The ship’s hull was painted mahogany red, with a thick black stripe running down the length of its gun deck.

After a short boat trip to the ship, we climbed on board with Captain Barrett ascending the ladder first. The shrill piping of a whistle announced his arrival to the rest of the men, who were already lined up to greet them.

This was no ordinary merchant ship. Many of the crew were dressed in uniforms like a land army, and even a newcomer could tell the smartly dressed officers apart from the plainly attired sailors. There were also red-coated British troops on board, saluting the captain with their muskets. Behind them, a gaggle of prisoners sat in chains – the crew of the Chaesar!

Captain Barrett took his place at the quarterdeck and took a deep breath, like a king surveying his kingdom. The sun shone from behind him, giving him the appearance of some god of the sea.

“Lads, it’s good to be back. Providence has been kind to me!” He made a sweeping gesture towards the prisoners. “These men have the honor and privilege of serving the King’s Navy, and they will be welcomed here. I know that our losses at the hands of the Mohammedans were great,” my ears perked up at that. “But hopefully these new hands will fare better than the unfortunate souls we lost that day. We shall remember them fondly, and for their memory, we shall fight all the harder, until we see the masts of those damn pirates sink beneath the waves!” Applause followed. “And what’s more,” he said, raising his hands to silence his men, “I have come across these foreigners – Rooshians from across the continent, skilled in the arts of war, who hate the Mohammedans even more than we do!” Well, he was certainly right about at least one of those things. “I know you lot have been itching to strike back at them, because I know I have,” he paused for the crew’s chuckles. “But I will not risk your lives on the skills of green crewmen, no matter how skilled they say they are. We shall sail make these fellows as much part of the ship as the nails and the beams that hold it together. Once I am confident in their skill, we shall venture once more into the open ocean to meet the bastard Turks once again.”

Yes, just like a puffed-up rooster. Even the way he paced around on the deck as he spoke reminded me of an old spangled cock that the Tatar slave masters once kept. It would prance around the chicken coop proclaiming his greatness to all the hens every day, until the chieftain had it for supper. When Barrett had finished and dismissed all his men, I turned my attention to the captured crew of the Chaesar. I could not see them all behind the British troops that guarded them, but there were a few faces that I recognized.

“Anxious to see your old shipmates, are you?”

I turned, startled, to face Captain Barrett.

“Fear not, Lord Krym, they have been treated well enough. However, I do not know if they shall jump ship the moment I release them.”

Among the crowd of sailors, I saw Eirene sitting in the front row, chained at the wrist like the others, but to my surprise, she was twiddling her thumbs and looked surprisingly content. Sensing a unique opportunity, I pointed to her and said to Captain Barrett,

“That one over there is one of my countrymen. Perhaps I can at least speak to him and get him to see reason.”

“A fine idea, Your Grace. Marines, let the man through.”

With that, the redcoats split like the Red Sea. I wanted to rush to her and embrace her, but that would have been very suspicious indeed. With great restraint and much sadness, I resigned myself to a casual nod instead.

“Are you hurt?” I said to her in Russian, “Are they treating you well?”

She raised an eyebrow and smirked at me.

“Do you like my new bracelets? They're quite heavy but I find them very stylish."

"How can you be so sprightly in chains?"

"What do I have to worry about? This captain is so desperate for new crewmembers that he'd still take me on if I fucked his wife."

"What?"

"Well, if I were actually a man. I do not even know if he has a wife, to be honest. Have you heard Barrett speak? The man reeks of conceit."

“Be serious, Eirene. Don’t you know that Captain Glass is dead?”

“I do – I watched the ship go down myself, but I hardly knew the man. I spent most of my time below decks and all my friends are here with me, alive and well. Besides, tears would draw attention, something we definitely don’t want. Also, while I am in these clothes, my name is Renatus. Be careful, someone might catch on. I have heard the men speaking, we know no harm will come to us – Captain Barrett needs to replace his crew. We are simply in chains now because he is unsure. Most of these men are just afraid of serving the British King’s Navy,” she spat. “Cowards.”

I had never seen a woman spit like that before. It was oddly refreshing to be in the company of a lady who was not as dainty and delicate as the woman of the czarina’s court who she actually was.

“Then why has he not released you yet?”

“The man has simply not asked us anything,” she shrugged. “I think he was waiting for one of his junior officers to speak to us. I see he is willing to address the crew of the ship as a whole, but refuses to speak man-to-man to common seamen.”

“Well then, I guess I will have to rectify that,” clearing my throat, I said in English, “Men, will you serve and fight for King Navy?”

The crew of the Chaesar, most likely fearing for their lives, responded with a chattering of “yes sir”s, “of course”s, and general agreement.

Barrett, pleased, clapped me on the shoulder.

“Marines, strike off their chains. I’m glad that the whole crew is in agreement. As for you, Lord Krym, I have a proposition.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious as to what kind of proposition the captain had for someone he did not even know.

“As you know, we have suffered a great many casualties in the last action against the corsairs. Our captain, may he rest in peace, was a good, stoic man and a fine leader. But it was his tragic fate that allowed me to rise to where I am now. I may wear the uniform of a mere Lieutenant, but here, in the eyes of the admiralty, I am God on board this vessel, as acting captain. I shall honor his memory by preserving his institutions, but it is also my prerogative to address his shortcomings. For since I am the best among all men here to lead, I expect all my men, including you sir, to follow my example.”

I nodded to be polite, but I heard no proposition for me in his long-winded egocentric rambling.

“In that dreadful last action,” he continued, “where I managed to pry victory from the jaws of defeat with my loyal crew behind me, it was our great misfortune that our gallant captain of marines perished. Currently, the ship’s fighting infantry act as a confused hydra of sorts, with its sergeant taking orders from my ship’s lieutenants, which pries them from other duties. Tell me sir, have you had any experience with violence?”

If I could have, I would have elaborated on the numerous engagements I had with the accursed Tatars, and would have told the captain that the mere idea of a chance of sinking my blade into the Tartar’s Turkish master was enough to make me hard, but with my limited English at the time, all I could muster was:

“Yes, much.”

“Excellent! Therefore, as a noble, you are innately more qualified to lead than these mere common men; and if you are a man of violence as you say you are, you may be more suitable for leading my marines than my lieutenants, whom, although abundant of knowledge, I find are too gentle of nature to press the attack when needed. Although I find the thrill of the fight exhilarating, I need to direct my energies to the command of the ship as a whole, so I offer this opportunity to you, Lord Krym.”

The captain’s use of unfamiliar words admittedly had me a little perplexed, but Andrei offered a simple translation.

“Monsieur, he wants you to command the marines.”

At first, I was not sure that I had heard Andrei correctly. I asked him to repeat himself, and then I asked Captain Barrett if he was certain about his decision, to which he replied with a smile,

“There is no one more qualified but myself, Your Grace.”

“Th-thank you, captain,” I stuttered. I could scarcely believe my luck. But the way Barrett looked at me with his fake smile made me reconsider thanking him at all.

“While you hold the rank of captain, make no mistake, we do not stand on equal ground. On this ship, I am the Lord God, and you only exist to proclaim my holy word to the marines, until such time that a suitable British replacement can be found. You shall say only what I tell you to say to them, and you shall never, under any circumstances, countermand my orders. Am I understood?”

His notion of self-importance amused me. I could never fathom a common man speaking like this to a noble, as he thought I was, and in my mind, I imagined that if Lord Krym were real, he would be frozen in shock at the insolence of this sea captain, or would have slapped the powder clean off his face.

I cracked a smile and gave a short bow.

“Of course, captain. I am your server.”