Captain Blake had a curious habit of using a combat knife to peel an apple before eating it; he gained a sense of pleasure at his skill with the knife, which was unnecessarily long and sharp for such a task, deftly peeling the thinnest layer away with minimal effort, pulling the blade towards himself until he felt the cold sharp steel against his thumb. This time though, his hand was shaking, and after a momentary lack of concentration he recoiled as the blade sliced into the tip of his thumb. His intention was that the calm of the ocean and gentle breeze would steady his hand and thoughts, but the realisation of what he had done had sunk in, dominating his thoughts to the point it had become unbearable.
Everyone he walked past gave him an accusatory stare; or did they? After all they had no idea what had happened. “What would you have me do?” he cried out, immediately swinging round, checking over his shoulder, realising that the words were not supposed to have escaped his mouth. When nobody replied, he exhaled a deep sigh of relief and turned back to stare out at the vast expanse of ocean in search of an answer. The haunting, pearlescent glow of the moon shimmering on the water’s surface gave its silent reply, painting the Mermaid in a ghostly white-blue glow, an ominous vision of its future if he were to fulfill his side of the bargain.
His drunken behaviour had caused him shame. “How could I be so careless?” he thought to himself. More questions of self doubt followed, but never an answer. Not only had he allowed himself to get caught, but he had continued to pour copious amounts of rum down his throat and bragged of his crew’s recent plunder and the riches that they were in possession of, leading to his arrest and the bargain he made. The deal did not sit well with Captain Blake, but what else could he have done? A refusal would have seen him swiftly hung at the gallows, berated by a loathing public, easily coerced to display their hatred of pirates like him and demand his death. How he hated them. This revulsion sparked a moment of clarity: “Fuck them” he exclaimed, his resolution becoming clear and steadfast. In that moment he decided to hoist the sails and flee in another direction, any direction other than that of their current course, to take the riches and spend it with his crew at their leisure before returning to piracy; for that is who they were, what they did and what he owed them.
He cut off and began to chew another slice of apple, ignoring the blood now dripping slowly from his thumb, contemplating his next move as a small gust of wind caught the flame of an oil lantern hanging above him on the ship’s stern. He watched the flame flicker and dance, so transfixed that he did not notice the appearance of a crew member behind him.
“Ahem” the man coughed, catching the attention of Captain Blake.
“What do you want?” he startled, then calmed at the sight of his young crewman Thomson, sporting a black eye and poorly attempting to conceal an injured abdomen.
“I heard you shout cap’n. Wonder’d if anything were wrong?”
A long, uncomfortable pause ensued until Captain Blake, looking away, excused the man.
“If you’ve nowt to say then begone with you.”
Thomson started to walk away, but hesitated, nervously turning back to make his confession to Blake.
“I would ‘ave you run cap’n.” he admitted, the words slightly catching in his throat.
A look of shock stood bare on the captain’s face — he had been exposed — but how did this man know? Captain Blake felt dumbfounded. He took another slice from his apple, this time more carefully, steadying his nerve as he confronted the man.
“Out with it lad — what do you know?” he asked, pressing his face up to Thomson’s in a move of pure intimidation.
Thomson began to tremble. He could feel the captain’s breath on his face, the stale stench of liquor overwhelming his senses, his willpower draining from him.
“I… It… It was me sir.”
The captain said nothing, preferring to use the uncomfortable silence to draw a confession.
“T… t… they threatened me cap’n, I had no choice,” he continued, “… said they would hang me. I was drunk y’see. Got in a fight. Got arrested.”
Blake didn’t interrupt, his deepening, rhythmic breathing further unnerving the man, forcing him to continue,
“… They wanted to know where I got so much exotic coin. So I told em’ — That’s why they came for you.”
Captain Blake felt the rage quicken inside of him. All his thoughts and options were now laid bare, racing through his mind, which had become clouded and confused; it was overwhelming, too much to consider all at once, he couldn’t cope; his body reacted instinctively, swinging his arm up as quick as lightening, thrusting the blade up through the crewman’s throat, skewering his head like an apple impaled upon his knife. The man’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth opened in exclamation, but no noise came out.
After a few brief moments his eyes began to close and his body sagged. The only thing keeping him upright was the support of Captain Blake, his hand now steadied, his knuckles white from tightly gripping his blade. Blake jostled the limp body over the waist-height wooden railing, tossing him overboard and into the sea. He leaned over the railing to watch as the body caused a splash, then disappeared, as it slowly sank to the deep blue depths.
Blake came to the conclusion that the choice was now out of his hands. If this man knew, then who else had knowledge of what he had done? who else would betray him? Who might stab him in the back? Any thought of continuing his piracy had now vanished from his mind; he had to resume his course and stick to the bargain he had made.
He turned his back on the ocean and focused his attention on the men quietly tending to the ship. His eyes darted around wildly as paranoia took hold of him. Whilst wiping the blood from his blade in his overcoat, the voice in his head declared that he had to eliminate his crew and any man who could possibly seek revenge for what he had done.
Why not complete the series?
- Part one: Ne’er trust a pirate.
- Part two: Fraught in a trap
- Part three: The bargain
