November 22, 1718 - Caribbean Sea
Rackham's sloop struggled to keep up with Vane's brigantine, but at dusk The Ranger began to alter course erratically, allowing The Goblin to catch up. Adresteia, now much recovered, transformed into an owl and flew ahead of them to see what was going on; she came back with grim tidings.
“I believe The Ranger’s crewmen already attempted a mutiny,” Adresteia said, “The decks are slick with blood and Vane’s men are tossing some of the bodies overboard.”
“Some of them?” John asked.
“I imagine some he’s saving for later. Or recruiting.”
“That sets it, then,” T. said, “without The Ranger’s crew taking action, we’d have to board her, and we’ve no chance of doing that in a damaged sloop.”
“Little chance of that, true, but a much better chance of getting The Ranger to board us. Vane needs men to sail that brigantine…”
“Human men,” Adresteia said, “unless he intends to let the ship drift during the day.”
John nodded, “And we have that in abundance – even with our casualties from The Indien, we still have dozens of men packed onto this sloop.”
“You think he’ll really believe us coming to him cap in hand?”
“If we frame it right, yes.”
Rackham outlined the plan, and before long he was tied to the main mast. The men took a few rounds pelting him with old fruit and vegetables, and after some cajoling, John persuaded D.C. to give him a few good hits. Adresteia perched on the yardarm above him, looking on with interest in the form of a vulture – a transformation that Rackham imagined was her version of humor.
It was fully dark when The Goblin caught up to The Ranger, giving Vane no reason to suspect they were aware of the violence that had already taken place aboard the ship. That made it a great deal more believable when T. shouted over to the brigantine.
“Ahoy Captain Vane,” the man cried, “we need The Ranger’s aid!”
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Vane shouted back, his eyes glinting red in the darkness below his broad-brimmed buckled hat, “Where’s Jack? Have you finally gone and keel-hauled him for his stupidity?”
“The Goblin was badly damaged by that French ship. We’ve lost two guns, and the mast is cracked. We have lumber, but nothing large enough to replace it. We’ve lost many men, and have many more requiring the attention of The Ranger’s surgeon.”
“And Jack?”
“We have taken him in bonds for his recklessness,” T. shouted as D.C. held up a lamp so that Vane could see Rackham bound and gagged. “The men vote to throw him overboard, but as this is still your ship and your crew, we’ve brought him to you to pass judgment.”
“Well, alright then,” Vane gave the order to cast a line to The Goblin and draw her in, “Bring your wounded aboard and we’ll discuss the rest after I’ve had a chance to talk to Jack myself.”
T. praised Vane for his generosity, and helped the rest of the crew haul the wounded aboard The Ranger as Vane swung down to the deck of The Goblin. There was enough blood and destruction aboard the ship, Vane failed to notice that over half of the ‘wounded’ were men with minor injuries or entirely unscathed, and it didn’t register in his mind that it took fully the entire crew of The Goblin to carry those men aboard The Ranger, where they promptly went below decks to the lumber stores, ostensibly to look for materials to repair The Goblin.
“Well, well,” Vane walked up to Rackham clapping slowly. His ridiculous mustache was stained with blood, and his sharp teeth stank of death. “I suppose now I have a decision to make. I have to ask myself, ‘Did Jack take on that frigate to impress me, or did he do it because he knew I couldn’t fight in the daylight?’”
John tried to mumble something in reply, but the cloth in his mouth made it impossible.
“What’s that, nothing to say?” Vane laughed at his own humor, “Ah, I’m sure you don’t appreciate the gag.”
Rackham rolled his eyes. The bad pun made him want to kill Vane all the more.
Vane yanked the cloth out of John’s mouth, “Well, what have you to say for yourself?”
“Is there any plea that doesn’t end up with me dead.”
“Depends on what you mean by ‘dead’,” Vane said, “despite the circumstances, I must admit I’m not unimpressed by your attack on that frigate. You’re a wild animal, Jack, and I have a mind to kill you, but maybe I’d do better to tame you.”
“Meaning?”
“They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer – that’s what I’ve done. I’ve let my most loyal men run the Ranger in the daylight, and passed my gift onto those men what cause me problems. Counter-intuitive, I know, but they’re generally more amenable to my way of running things once they’re in the same boat.”
“They were already in the same boat.”
“I mean that metaphorically, you obstinate contrarian. When they find themselves facing the same needs and limitations, they change their tune pretty quick, and don’t so much mind how I do things. Of course, part of that’s just because they’re compelled to follow me as their master.”
“And you? Who do you serve?”
“The old ball-and-chain back in Nassau, of course,” Vane said, “but she’s not so bad. She sent me back to sea. Out here, I’m free to do as I please. No one tells me who to kill or who to turn. Master of my own fate.”
“She sent you away? Right after your wedding? You really that bad in the sack, mate?”
“Heh,” Vane chuckled and laid a slightly clawed hand on John’s chest, “I can think of all sorts of ironic things to do with you if I turn you. Far more satisfying than killing you.”
“Not saying I don’t swing that way from time to time, mate, but it’s not going to happen with you.”
“You’ll feel differently soon enough.”
Adresteia swooped down and severed the ropes restraining Rackham. John dropped to the deck and rolled to the railing, grabbing a pair of free belaying pins. He rushed at Vane with the two wooden clubs, but the undead pirate darted backwards towards the captain’s cabin with incredible speed, dodging the attacks. His feet caught in something sticky though, and when he glanced down to see what he’d stepped in, John threw one of the clubs and smacked him in the shoulder with it. Vane grunted and dodged the second throne club, but it struck its intended target – the lamp hanging behind him shattered, spilling burning oil that ignited the pine tar under Vane’s feet.
Vane screamed and ran from the fire, peeling off his coat. As a man, he might simply have leapt overboard, but empusa were not buoyant – he’d sink like a stone. That not being an option, he frantically patted out the flames and shouted for his men to come to his aid. Fifteen fanged monsters descended on the sloop. John took up another belaying pin in one hand and ignited it in the fire, waving back his attackers with the burning cudgel while running down the length of the ship with an axe in his other hand, cutting the Ranger’s lines.
John couldn’t have taken on fifteen mortal men, and each of these creatures were as strong and fast as Vane. Fortunately, this was no longer Rackham’s fight.
Adresteia descended to the deck and changed form, towering over the bloodthirsty monsters. They cringed with instinctual fear, and some tried to run back to the Ranger, but the brigantine had already pulled away with a loud splash – Robert Deal being tossed overboard to join his master.
Adresteia’s fingers sprouted talons to match her wings, and she began slicing her way through the undead pirates, showering the deck with gore and reveling in their terror. One of the pirates jumped her from behind, wrapped his arms around her, and tried to bite her neck. His teeth barely even bruised her skin, though, and she grabbed his wrists, pulled them away from her, and with a powerful yank she pulled the pirate’s arms from their sockets. She swung the limbs as dull clubs for a while, laughing gleefully as the undead pirates tried to escape.
One of the pirates finally drew his sword and swung it at Adresteia, but John blocked it with his axe, shielding her from the blow. Vane saw Rackham’s intervention and inferred weakness, “Steel you fools!” Vane shouted, “Use your weapons on her!” The rest of the pirates drew their cutlasses and knives.
Rackham tried to push the first of them away, but the pirate dropped his sword as John put his weight against it. Rackham lost his footing, and the pirate bit him squarely on the arm. John screamed and staggered backwards. His blood burned, and he could already feel it getting hard to breath, as if he’d been poisoned.
Adresteia dropped her improvised weapons and flicked her wrists. Blue energy – the purest form of her divine power – crackled from her talons. With a wave of her hand, she unleashed a cascade of lightning that arced into the metal weapons the pirates clutched in their hands. The electricity did the monsters minor harm, but the wooden deck below their feet began to smoke, smoldering from the heat.
Vane charged at Adresteia from behind, but John charged into him shoulder first, slamming him into the deck rail. Vane grunted as the wooden rail broke several of his ribs, and before he could recover, Rackham grabbed him and threw him to the deck. John jumped on him, and began punching him relentlessly. His fists did no serious harm to Vane’s face, but the punches pounded Vane’s skull against the wooden deck, rattling him.
The deck was now on fire and Vane’s men were running about screaming in terror. Adresteia decided well begun was half done and that it was time to get Rackham off the ship. She batted the smoke away with her wings and used her powers to sap the heat from the air around her until she found Rackham, still beating on Vane’s indestructible face and gasping for breath.
She dragged him off of Vane, “He’s done, let him burn with the rest.”
“Me too,” John showed her the wound on his arm, “I’ve been bitten. I’m going to turn into one of them. I have to die with them.”
Adresteia smiled, “Then let me perform one last miracle.” Her hand glowed with blue lightning as she wrapped her fingers around John’s arm. Rackham screamed in agony as she sterilized and cauterized the wound with her power, and burned the poison out of his blood. Rackham begged her to stop, but she persisted until the taint was purged, and then threw him overboard.
Fortunately, splashing into the tropical water reinvigorated John. As he swam towards The Ranger, The Goblin began to sink behind him. The sky above the sloop cracked open, and lightning struck the small ship’s broken mast as the gun powder stores exploded violently, transforming the sloop into a rain of smoking embers.
END =>
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