November 22, 1718 - Captured Merchant Vessel
It was a long wait for the mysterious woman Rackham had found below the merchant ship's decks – there were many boxes to move, and when The Ranger’s crewmen began taking some of the spoils aboard their ship, John had to jump through some hoops to make sure her box ended up in his cabin instead of Vane's hold.
While the cargo was being moved onto the two pirate ships, rumors about what Vane’s men had done below decks spread through both crews, and some of The Ranger’s crewmen approached John with their own concerns; a few even pleaded with him to take him aboard his ship because they’d become so fearful of Vane. It was enough that the dread captain eventually took notice.
Their prize was as stripped as the men could manage. Not only had the cargo been divided between their two ships, rations, sailcloth, lumber, and even the few cannons aboard the ship had been hoisted over to complement the arms of its predators. The surviving passengers were all aboard The Ranger, but that still left a dozen Spanish sailors to deal with. John had insisted the sailors be allowed to give their dead comrades their last rites before they settled on what to do with them. Once that was done, they were gathered mid deck of the captured ship, and Vane stood before them.
“I have no love for Spaniards,” he said, “but if you can understand what I’m saying, then you can follow orders. Join my crew and I’ll not leave you here to die on this derelict.”
John could tell two of the sailors understood Vane’s ultimatum, but were afraid to go with him. Rackham spoke in Spanish so all of the men (but not Vane) could understand him, “Captain Shit-for-Brains is saying he hates you because you’re Spanish, but if you can understand English you should come aboard his ship anyway so you can toil away thanklessly until he tires of you and keelhauls you.”
The Spanish sailors laughed nervously. Vane sneered at John, suspecting he was being mocked.
“In all seriousness,” John continued in Spanish, “My sloop has few bunks left, but there’s an uninhabited island not too far from here frequented by Spanish ships. You might have to fend for yourselves a few months there while you wait to catch a ship, but it’s a damn sight better than drying up like jerky on driftwood. So, you can sign onto my crew, and be expected to pull your weight same as everyone else, or you can stay here and pray for the Virgin Mary to come down and tow your ship to port. Now, show of hands, who is for staying here?”
No hands went up.
“In that case, please board the ship to your port side. We’ll settle up the rest when we’re under way.” He added, “Vamanos muchachos!” The men got up and filed over to John’s ship.
“You realize you have to feed all of those men,” Vane said.
“Probably cheaper than feeding your men,” John said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Blackbeard told me once that the key to a successful pirate ship was in having a nearly chaotic excess of spirited men amongst whom to divide the labor. If your ship isn’t on the cusp of anarchy, you’re not doing things right.
“Oh, well, if anarchy is the key to running a good ship, maybe I should have kept you on as my quartermaster,” Vane growled.
“What happened below decks today, Charles?” John decided to be straightforward. Vane had never been his friend per se, but they’d worked well together for a time. He owed the man an opportunity to give his side of the story privately.
“I told you, the menfolk tried to fight back. We had to kill them.”
“Really? Were you outnumbered? Did they have better weapons? As far as I could tell, most of them were paper pushers, so I have a hard time imagining they were that dangerous.”
“You calling me a liar Jack?”
“I’m saying that no axe, cutlass, or knife twists a man’s arms off and tears out his throat.”
“A musket ball will take a man’s throat out, sure enough.”
“That’s your explanation? You killed six men with silent musket shots to their necks?”
Vane turned on him in a flash, seizing hold of him and lifting him off the deck by the neck. Catching the lamplight of Rackham’s ship, Vane’s eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, and when he curled back his lips John could see his teeth were no longer those of a human being.
“Listen well, you insolent pecker: I’ve spared you thus far because that sloop makes bringing in prizes a great deal easier, and you sail her well. But these ships are mine, and the men on them are mine, to do with as I please.”
John didn’t wait for Vane to finish his monologue; he drew his knife from the sheath tucked under the back of his vest and plunged it into Vane’s neck. Vane snarled, grabbed the knife, and tossed it aside as if the injury meant nothing to him.
“When I said the men on these ships belonged to me,” Vane hissed, “That included you, Jack. You can’t hurt me. No man can hurt me. But I’ll give you that one final transgression because you were such a good quartermaster once. From now on, though, I expect unconditional respect. When I give an order or make a decision, I expect you to follow it, support it, even cheer for it, because if you don’t, I can pop your head off your body like cork off of a rum bottle. Now, do we have an understanding, ‘mate’?”
“Aye mate,” Rackham gasped, “I understand.” Vane dropped him and stomped back to the Ranger to give the order to get under way. John returned to his ship, rubbing his neck. The crewmen were chattering anxiously – apparently some of them had seen Vane pick John up like a doll, and were baffled as to how that was possible.
“What happened?” D.C. asked.
“I found out our stowaway wasn’t crazy. Vane’s stronger than a man twice his size, can shrug off being stabbed in the neck, and to top it all off he has… weird teeth.”
“What do we do now?” T. had been listening to their exchange.
“We could just set sail back to Nassau,” John said, “The Goblin can out run them long enough to disappear in the dark, and we have a decent score to fence.”
“But that still leaves many of our mates aboard that monster’s ship,” T. said.
“And if there’s really a plague aboard the ship… they could all become like him,” D.C. lamented.
“It’s late, and we have our press-ganged sailors to deal with,” Rackham said, “T., you deal with the Spaniards. You know enough Spanish to read them the articles. D.C., talk to the other men, get a sense of where their loyalties lie and see if we’re likely to have friends on the Ranger. I’m going to talk to our mystery woman.”
Rackham gave the helmsman the order to follow the Ranger for the time being, and went to his cabin.
NEXT =>
While the cargo was being moved onto the two pirate ships, rumors about what Vane’s men had done below decks spread through both crews, and some of The Ranger’s crewmen approached John with their own concerns; a few even pleaded with him to take him aboard his ship because they’d become so fearful of Vane. It was enough that the dread captain eventually took notice.
Their prize was as stripped as the men could manage. Not only had the cargo been divided between their two ships, rations, sailcloth, lumber, and even the few cannons aboard the ship had been hoisted over to complement the arms of its predators. The surviving passengers were all aboard The Ranger, but that still left a dozen Spanish sailors to deal with. John had insisted the sailors be allowed to give their dead comrades their last rites before they settled on what to do with them. Once that was done, they were gathered mid deck of the captured ship, and Vane stood before them.
“I have no love for Spaniards,” he said, “but if you can understand what I’m saying, then you can follow orders. Join my crew and I’ll not leave you here to die on this derelict.”
John could tell two of the sailors understood Vane’s ultimatum, but were afraid to go with him. Rackham spoke in Spanish so all of the men (but not Vane) could understand him, “Captain Shit-for-Brains is saying he hates you because you’re Spanish, but if you can understand English you should come aboard his ship anyway so you can toil away thanklessly until he tires of you and keelhauls you.”
The Spanish sailors laughed nervously. Vane sneered at John, suspecting he was being mocked.
“In all seriousness,” John continued in Spanish, “My sloop has few bunks left, but there’s an uninhabited island not too far from here frequented by Spanish ships. You might have to fend for yourselves a few months there while you wait to catch a ship, but it’s a damn sight better than drying up like jerky on driftwood. So, you can sign onto my crew, and be expected to pull your weight same as everyone else, or you can stay here and pray for the Virgin Mary to come down and tow your ship to port. Now, show of hands, who is for staying here?”
No hands went up.
“In that case, please board the ship to your port side. We’ll settle up the rest when we’re under way.” He added, “Vamanos muchachos!” The men got up and filed over to John’s ship.
“You realize you have to feed all of those men,” Vane said.
“Probably cheaper than feeding your men,” John said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Blackbeard told me once that the key to a successful pirate ship was in having a nearly chaotic excess of spirited men amongst whom to divide the labor. If your ship isn’t on the cusp of anarchy, you’re not doing things right.
“Oh, well, if anarchy is the key to running a good ship, maybe I should have kept you on as my quartermaster,” Vane growled.
“What happened below decks today, Charles?” John decided to be straightforward. Vane had never been his friend per se, but they’d worked well together for a time. He owed the man an opportunity to give his side of the story privately.
“I told you, the menfolk tried to fight back. We had to kill them.”
“Really? Were you outnumbered? Did they have better weapons? As far as I could tell, most of them were paper pushers, so I have a hard time imagining they were that dangerous.”
“You calling me a liar Jack?”
“I’m saying that no axe, cutlass, or knife twists a man’s arms off and tears out his throat.”
“A musket ball will take a man’s throat out, sure enough.”
“That’s your explanation? You killed six men with silent musket shots to their necks?”
Vane turned on him in a flash, seizing hold of him and lifting him off the deck by the neck. Catching the lamplight of Rackham’s ship, Vane’s eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, and when he curled back his lips John could see his teeth were no longer those of a human being.
“Listen well, you insolent pecker: I’ve spared you thus far because that sloop makes bringing in prizes a great deal easier, and you sail her well. But these ships are mine, and the men on them are mine, to do with as I please.”
John didn’t wait for Vane to finish his monologue; he drew his knife from the sheath tucked under the back of his vest and plunged it into Vane’s neck. Vane snarled, grabbed the knife, and tossed it aside as if the injury meant nothing to him.
“When I said the men on these ships belonged to me,” Vane hissed, “That included you, Jack. You can’t hurt me. No man can hurt me. But I’ll give you that one final transgression because you were such a good quartermaster once. From now on, though, I expect unconditional respect. When I give an order or make a decision, I expect you to follow it, support it, even cheer for it, because if you don’t, I can pop your head off your body like cork off of a rum bottle. Now, do we have an understanding, ‘mate’?”
“Aye mate,” Rackham gasped, “I understand.” Vane dropped him and stomped back to the Ranger to give the order to get under way. John returned to his ship, rubbing his neck. The crewmen were chattering anxiously – apparently some of them had seen Vane pick John up like a doll, and were baffled as to how that was possible.
“What happened?” D.C. asked.
“I found out our stowaway wasn’t crazy. Vane’s stronger than a man twice his size, can shrug off being stabbed in the neck, and to top it all off he has… weird teeth.”
“What do we do now?” T. had been listening to their exchange.
“We could just set sail back to Nassau,” John said, “The Goblin can out run them long enough to disappear in the dark, and we have a decent score to fence.”
“But that still leaves many of our mates aboard that monster’s ship,” T. said.
“And if there’s really a plague aboard the ship… they could all become like him,” D.C. lamented.
“It’s late, and we have our press-ganged sailors to deal with,” Rackham said, “T., you deal with the Spaniards. You know enough Spanish to read them the articles. D.C., talk to the other men, get a sense of where their loyalties lie and see if we’re likely to have friends on the Ranger. I’m going to talk to our mystery woman.”
Rackham gave the helmsman the order to follow the Ranger for the time being, and went to his cabin.
NEXT =>
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