I knew I was to receive a command, but I did not expect it to be as prestigious as “co-captain.” For moment, I was at a loss of words.

“I beg your pardon, Captain Beck, but did you just appoint me as…”

“Me co-captain, aye. We gine need a flotilla if we hope to take on Lord Garlington. A ship flying British colors crewed by white sailors known to de governor – dat be a mighty fine asset.”

“Ah, there’s the catch,” muttered Aidar. “Captain a ship with a British crew to attack a British outpost. The irony is delicious. If you decide to participate in this foolhardy undertaking, consider me the first of your volunteers, Rodion Ivanovich.”

My heart would have been all-in were it not for the nature of our mission. I had grown fond of some of the men, and I knew that many of them had unwavering loyalty to crown and country. Accepting Burned Beck’s offer would doubtless lead to a mutiny. There had to be some alternative.

I heard the rhythmic stomping of footsteps from the brig below and soon saw the Royal Marines, free of their shackles, ascend unto the top deck marching behind Sergeant MacRae and Eirene. Even without their weapons, they marched with their heads held high in defiance of their captors.

“ROYAL MARINES!” bellowed Sergeant MacRae, “FALL IN!”

With the sergeant’s command and a chorus of stomps, the marines stood before me in a neat square, no doubt expectant for orders to return to the Peregrine.

“You gine tell dem?” said Burned Beck, with her arms crossed.

I let out a deep sigh and stepped in front of Sergeant MacRae, hoping beyond hope that he and the marines would see beyond their allegiances to side with me.

“Gentlemen,” I began, “the good Captain Beck here has seen fit to give all of us a second chance at life. The governor of Cape Coast, Lord Garlington, killed her husband many months ago, and all she asks from you is your solidarity with her in vengeance. For if any of you lost loved ones to an evil man, would you not want that evil to be punished? In doing so, we shall free Cape Coast of a dastardly man, and free the slaves that had their lives taken from them by an oppressive and cruel government. What say you?”

At first, there was silence. Then MacRae spoke softly.

“Sir, with all due respect, is yer arse jealous of the shit that comes out of yer mouth? The only true cap’n I serve is hanging on the bowsprit, and I will nae raise a hand in revolt against a lord of His Majesty’s government. I am nae traitor, sir.”

I turned to Burned Beck, hoping for clemency.

“Kill dem.”

“Wait!” shouted Eirene, raising her hands just as the Maroons drew their weapons. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I for one regard the institution of slavery as a disgusting blight on civilized society, but I understand why the men hesitate to fight. It is not about anything to do with slavery at all – rather, it has to do with the stigma of being known as traitors till they grow old and gray for taking up arms against fellow Englishmen. May present the good captain with a proposal?”

“Go on,” muttered Burned Beck.

“It is no doubt that we would make good use of the fighting abilities of these men, but perhaps if we directed them against a target they had no compulsion against destroying, we might be making better use of them? Say, a pirate ship? Then perhaps we might utilize the services of those pirates in our fight against Lord Garlington?”

Burned Beck paced slowly between Eirene and myself, gauging her proposal as she walked.

“I strongly agree with this proposal, captain,” I said. “Consider that you will be attacking Garlington with three men-of-war instead of two, after we seize the pirate ship and add it to your flotilla. Your men will not need to bear the brunt of the casualties. After we press gang the pirates into our service, we shall release any Englishmen that are still loyal to the crown and everyone can part without heavy hearts. What do you say?”

Burned Beck stopped pacing for a moment and looked me up and down.

“Do I have yuh word dat de men gine fight for our side dis one time at least?”

“Yes ma’am, of course. If you fear a mutiny, we shall keep all their arms stowed aft in the Peregrine’s captain’s cabin, where my companions and I shall guard them with our lives.”

“No,” she replied sharply. “De muskets will be kept aboard my ship, de Vengeance. You tink dat dese desperate men ain’t gine risk death for dere freedom? Dem’s gine storm yuh cabin and take dem weapons, den dem gine turn dem on yuh. De firelocks stay wit me.”

“As you command, captain,” I said with a bow.

“However, dat being said, yuh gine need weapons of some sort to board a pirate ship.” I was sure I hear her cackle softly. “How do yuh men feel about boardin’ pikes?”

“Pardon me?” I said, squinting.

“Sir,” interrupted MacRae, “I have drilled me men with sword, firelock, and pike. We are well versed in the use of the weapon, but I donnae know our host’s intention of crippling us so,” he said as he sneered at Burned Beck.

“Tink of it as a test,” she replied. “You swear for de skill of dese fightin’ men, and I want to see what dem got. Dose who survive gine prove themselves loyal, dose who don’t… well.”

“Sir, this witch is sending us off to die.”

“And what if I do?” she said with a hint of malice in her voice. “Yuh British treat me people as animals, I could feed yuh to de sharks right dis moment and I would slumber as a babe. Yuh be lucky me friend here be witness to dis, else I would cut yuh troat meself.”

The two locked eyes. MacRae’s unwavering steely gaze met the void-dark sockets carved into Burned Beck’s mask.

I cleared my throat to break the tension.

“If boarding pikes is what you command, then boarding pikes it shall be.”

“I knew yuh would understand me plight, Mista Rooshian.” Turning to the Maroons, she bellowed, “See to de ammunition stores – take all de firelocks for de Vengeance, de powder and shot too. And make sure no cannonballs remain.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“What?!” I hissed.

“I gine set yuh out dere in de open sea, me dear. What’s to stop yuh men from loading yuh guns and blasting me de moment you set sail, hm? Besides, I want de ship yuh take to be intact. Every board of she hull gotta be in fightin’ shape. Fear not, yuh Peregrine will be reunited wit her cannonballs once yuh come back to me wit a prize.” Pulling out a map from her coat, she pointed to a little island off the western coast of the African mainland. “After yuh have completed yuh task, we gine meet here on Ilha de Fogo in tree days. As our blessings be, de island be owned by the Portuguese, but dem gone and abandoned it.”

“Why was that?” I asked.

“A volcano got angry and drove de white men from dat place, so it is where we gine go to hide. Now, I bid yuh return to yuh ship, Mista Rooshian. Godspeed, and don’t tink ill of me for settin’ yuh up on such a perilous journey… also, as insurance…” With a clap of her hands and a few words in her own tongue, two dozen men armed with our stolen firelocks boarded the Peregrine. “Bring back a ship, Mista Rooshian, I don’t want yuh blood on me hands.”

As Burned Beck walked away and her men began setting themselves up on our ship, Eirene grabbed me by the arm.

“I fear I must reiterate,” she said softly in Russian, “You are letting the men sail on a voyage that will lead to certain doom.”

“And what would the alternatives be, Eirene? Death as mutineers by Burned Beck’s hand or death as traitors by the hand of Lord Garlington? At least now they shall get a chance at freedom, even though the odds have been stacked firmly against us.”

“You should have negotiated with her.”

“Negotiated? Eirene, let me tell you a story. When I was very small, still a slave under the Tatars, they did not feed us much. Once, I saw a Tatar boy about my age drinking mare’s milk. I asked him if I could have some. I did not know better at the time, but what I had done was tantamount to insubordination. The boy, however, did not report me to the taskmaster – no – he gave me the mare’s milk, right after he pissed in it.”

Eirene winced, as if she had regretted bringing the matter up at all.

“You see, my dear, one does not ask for anything from a position of weakness. Negotiations can only be done when one has leverage. Right now, we have nothing.”

[https://i.imgur.com/u30LgOi.png]

The Peregrine had been released from Burned Beck’s custody without further issue, although our helmsman was now sailing with an armed Maroon by his side and Captain Barrett had remained tied to the bowsprit of the Vengeance. Several of the sailors, marines, and junior officers were understandably upset at our current predicament and blamed me for their present situation. I fully accepted their ire, but had reminded them of our ill-fated task.

This was to be an act of exchanging one crew for another. Pirates for honest Englishmen. There was no shortage of open complaints that we had nothing but pikes to attempt a boarding action, and not a single cannonball with which to engage the enemy. In fact, as soon as the Vengeance’s sails were beyond the horizon, whispers circulated among many of the men suggesting that we simply sail back to Cape Coast. There was general agreement among the crew, until Ferguson mentioned something that made us all reconsider. Very boldly, he chose to make his announcement devoid of subtlety of any kind, and in full view of everyone on the ship – our men and our Maroon guards alike – perched atop the quarterdeck.

“I know you lot desire nothing more than to return to English soil, but aside from the fact that we are currently under guard, we must consider that when this vessel approaches an English port, it shall do so without a commissioned captain. Even if we manage to overpower the men that currently have muskets to our heads, in the eventuality that port authorities ask us where our captain has gone, we may relay the truth and say that either he has been captured by pirates and we were unable to rescue him, or lie that he has perished at sea. If presented with either of these cases, the port authorities will look upon us with great suspicion – for if the captain perished at sea, then why is almost every single other officer of the vessel still breathing? It would stink of a mutinous cabal led by the surviving officers – myself included – and it pains me to say it, but it is regrettable that we did not suffer more casualties in action against the Vengeance and her flotilla, for if we did so, our truthfulness would not be questioned! Now, if we seek shelter in any English port, we will be taken for mutineers regardless of what we say, and we will doubtless be tried and hanged for our supposed treachery.”

“And what do you propose instead?” asked Lieutenant Riley, with his hands on his hips and his brow furrowed deep. “Shall we simply become fugitives from the law just as these pirates are and never see our loved ones again? I curse you and your idea, sir, and I will not entertain the idea of working together with a pirate!”

Riley’s words were met with murmurs of agreement by the rest of the crew. I observed our guards, some of whom were watching us from the fighting tops of the ship, others from the quarterdeck. They seemed to understand what Ferguson and Riley were saying, and began to ready their weapons in anticipation of a slaughter. I could not let that happen.

“And what is it about these pirates that you find so repulsive, Lieutenant Riley?” I asked.

Riley scoffed, “They are brigands and cutthroats, sir! Men too lazy to earn their living like us honest folk – or rather I should say, us honest Englishmen, for I have no idea how you earned your bread. But I will not stoop to villainy when there is but a slim chance to escape to our safety!”

“With empty cannons and boarding pikes, yes,” I chuckled. “Lieutenant, if I may ask – do you consider yourself a person of upstanding morals?”

“I am not sure how this is relevant…”

“Please, answer the question.”

“Well yes, I would like to imagine that I am a good man. I am a commissioned officer in His Majesty’s Navy after all, sworn to defend the interests and properties of the crown.”

“Excellent – and how would you feel about men who take pleasure in the suffering and misfortune of others, and inflict such pains on them for their own amusement?”

“Why, they are despicable creatures – the devil take them all.”

I smiled and clasped my hands behind my back, knowing that since Riley was an abolitionist, I had him exactly where I wanted him.

“Did you see that mask on the pirate captain’s face? She only wears it to hide her disfigurement. You see, Lord Garlington, your esteemed governor of Cape Coast, tried to burn her ship and her crew.”

“W-well, she was a pirate, was she not? She deserved such a fate.”

“My dear fellow, that singular event was what turned her to piracy. Before our captor was Burned Beck she was Rebecca Glass, the wife of John Glass. They were a happy couple, bound together by the idea that all men should be as free as you and I.”

“You mean they were abolitionists.”

“Precisely – their plan was to purchase slaves from the Cape Coast colony for the sole purpose of releasing them.”

I turned to Aidar, now leaning over the gunwales, paying no one any heed, seemingly unconcerned that our guards were moments away from shredding us to bits with musket fire.

“Lend me your wisdom of the ways of the slave trade, Aidar Pasha – is it not legal for a slave buyer to release his slaves once funds have changed hands?”

“What? Oh, yes, absolutely,” he said, still facing the sea. “Manumission may be given immediately after purchase. There is nothing illegal about it at all.”

I turned back to Lieutenant Riley, whose brow was now creased in uncertainty.

“Now, the governor of Cape Coast – for whatever reason – saw their act as an affront, and had their ship burned. Three hundred souls were lost at sea, together with her husband’s. Meanwhile, the ship’s crew, myself included, was bound for the noose, but we were saved by your captain out of spite against Lord Garlington. Surely, you trust Captain Barrett’s judgment.” I paused to let the words sink in.

Riley could offer no defense and stood silent as well.

“So,” I raised my hand and counted off with my fingers, “Lord Garlington is regarded as immoral, sadistic, and murderous. Would you like to sail the Peregrine back to the devil himself with the crew your captain was supposed to have executed? I think not. If you did, I am quite certain you would be sailing many of these men to meet the punishment they originally escaped.”

Riley winced and muttered, “Your argument is very convincing, Russian. Very well, we shall play by the rules of this pirate, since there seems to be no safer recourse.”

I smiled and slapped him on the back, making him recoil. “I am so glad you see it my way. Tell the men to set a course for a place where the water is so thick with pirates that a man cannot cast a fishing line without getting shot.”

“Are you mad? Do you actually plan to go through with this madwoman’s sick plot that will guarantee our violent deaths?”

“I have made my intent clear. Since you have no other alternative, I suggest we spread our sails and try to catch a favorable wind.”