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“Ship Ahoy!”
The voice sounded faint, coming as it was from high in the eagle’s nest, through several feet of deck and the locked door to the captain’s cabin. Another ship. Another prize for the Dread Pirate Blackbeard, and booty for the crew. Good. That was - good.
He nudged the sleeping Kraken within, hoping to wake it, to feel something – anything. Even if it was a blazing inchoate fury or a sword through the chest, it was better than… whatever this existence was. The Kraken stirred, turned over and resumed its slumber. The crew could deal with it.
“Captain.” A muffled voice at the cabin door. Jim. “You might want to see this.”
He didn’t respond, but the Kraken opened an eye. Jim slipped away, their footsteps all but silent. Blackbeard was left alone with only the scrabbling of the rats in the walls for company.
***
On deck, all was in cacophony, until Izzy Hands quieted the crew with a roar of “Captain on deck!”
“Why all the fuss Izzy?” Blackbeard joined his second in command on the poop deck, and put the glass to his eye.
“She’s a Royal Navy frigate, Captain. Small one, twenty-four guns. But there’s something odd. Look how she lists to port a little, and the sails are rigged badly. She’s flying the colours alright but I’d bet my left arm that’s not an English crew out there.”
Now the Kraken pricked up its ears.
“No one on deck?”
“Not a soul seen.”
Blackbeard nodded, “Then what are we waiting for?”
Hands grinned that spiteful grin of his, and raised his voice to the crew. “All hands! Battle ready! Raise the black flag! Full speed ahead!”
The ship burst into life, and so did the Kraken. This was going to be fun.
A sudden shout from the crow’s nest “Captain – black flag! She’s a pirate!”
“Who cares!? Keep at them!” the Kraken roared, ears pounding with blood and the battle rage upon him.
But Izzy was stumbling back as if he’d seen a ghost, clutching the spyglass to his chest like a talisman. “Oh bloody no – how the fuck did those idiots capture a ship like that?”
And the Kraken snarled, and struck.
***
It had seemed but a minute’s work, and now the Revenge’s original crew stood before the Kraken on the deck. Some bloodied, all defiant, all – somehow – still alive.
Blackbeard paced, Izzy Hands at his side, whispering in a loud voice that he should throw them overboard and finally be done with them, scabs that they were. The Kraken, wrapped around his soul, agreed. But Blackbeard found himself staring at Jim, who seemed stoic and silent as ever, except that their eyes flicked to Oluwande more than they should, and something – else – stirred in Blackbeard’s own chest.
He refused to look at him.
“Get them below,” he roared, but it came out in a hoarse breath. Izzy snarled and rolled his eyes. His crew jumped up to obey, a flurry of activity, weapons drawn, out for blood. They began to push the ragtag bunch roughly down into the hold.
“Not the captain.” Blackbeard growled. “I want him lashed to the mainmast. No water. See how he lasts under this sun.” From the corner of his eye, he caught Hands giving a satisfied smirk.
Turning his back, Blackbeard took in the sight of the other ship, its raggedness and unpreparedness for sea apparent this close up. “Captain Hands, take a skeleton crew – that ship is yours now.”
Izzy’s protest was audible, though all he said was “Aye Captain.”
So that was it. It was done, and the Kraken slept once more. Blackbeard returned below and locked the door.
***
The sunset had brought a blessed cool breeze, and with it a little life returned to Stede Bonnet, though his parched lips and the raw skin at his wrists begged to differ. Perhaps the numbness was better after all.
This wasn’t exactly the welcome he’d been hoping for, although he couldn’t have told what precisely he had been expecting. He supposed he deserved this after all. He usually did, to be fair.
When he’d seen that flag flying he’d felt as if he could lift himself off the ground and join it, floating high above life’s unfairness and ugliness, and finally just accepting the simple joy of being where he should be. Being who he should be.
He’d scrambled the crew and raised their own Death’s Head flag (newly sewn from fine silks and sequins) in greeting, but of course, it hadn’t made a difference. The full, terrifying, glorious wrath of the Dread Pirate Blackbeard had descended in smoke and flame and shrieking battle cries. Stede could have sworn his eyes had glowed red as well, but perhaps that was just the effects of a really well done Fuckery at work on the mind.
Stede supposed they really were all lucky to be alive. Especially him. And yet, he couldn’t help being a little pleased that Chauncey Badminton had been wrong after all. This proved it.
He pulled at the bindings again, trying to shift position, just a little, and noticed a thin stream of pipe-smoke rising over the dark, silent deck.
“Ed?”
And Blackbeard stepped out of the shadows, his painted face a black hole in the world so that he was only eyes, and smoke, and a cloud of hair.
Stede fidgeted again, trying to loose the ropes just enough to bring a little feeling back. “Ed, I don’t suppose you could -?”
A dagger appeared, quivering, inches from Stede’s right ear, buried point-first in the cherrywood mast. “Ah.”
“You didn’t come.”
Stede squirmed. He had no answer other than the truth. “No.”
“I waited.”
He’d waited? Blackbeard, the Blackbeard, had waited for Stede Bonnet. So that they could run away together. Oh God. And Stede had left him. Had a crisis of conscience or some such nonsense and he’d just left him.
“Ah, shit. Ed I’m-“
Another knife thudded at Stede’s left ear, and Ed – Blackbeard – was suddenly so close Stede could see the pores of his skin under the coating of paint around his eyes, and catch his smoky gunpowder-leather scent.
“What. The fuck. Happened?”
Stede tried his absolute best to let the mast absorb him completely. How could he have done this? How could he ever have thought he’d be able to face this man again? He let out his breath in one great gasp, “Badminton.”
And the fire in Blackbeard’s eyes refocussed in an instant as he pulled one of the knives back out of the mast and stalked the deck in fury, waving the blade around as he threatened the air itself. “That fucker. I’ll kill him!”
“No need.” Stede allowed himself a little self-satisfied smile, even if it was a little ragged around the edges. Even if it had been an accident – again.
“You killed him?” The look in Ed’s eyes was worth it. That little spark that said he was impressed. A hint that Ed was in there still, under the Blackbeard bluster and theatrics and rage.
Stede nodded, a little too enthusiastically, making the rope dig back into his arms again. And as fast as that, the spark was gone and Blackbeard was back, “So why didn’t you come?”
“He said some – things. Hurtful things. About my family.” He swallowed to try and make his voice steady against his rasping dry throat. “About you.”
And there again was that glimmer of Ed in Blackbeard’s raised eyebrow, but he didn’t speak.
“I needed to know if it was true.”
“So – what? You just went?” Stede nodded again, just once this time, and let his head hang, chin to chest. Yes, he had just… left. Had he really believed that Ed was already gone, or had he just been too frightened to face whatever this new life would bring? Had he wanted to un-ruin everything, to put it all back where it belonged, in the neat little boxes that society demanded; or had he simply been too scared to accept that there was a real possibility of having a life where he wasn’t miserable all the time? He still didn’t know. But he did know that going back, and finishing things properly, had been the right thing to do. Even if all it got him in the end was lashed to a mainmast to die. He wasn’t frightened now. At least he’d die at sea.
When he looked up, Blackbeard was gone.
He looked around, as much as was possible with his arms pinned to his sides, straining at the ropes again. “Ed?”
“Ed are you still there?”
“No.” The voice came from above, somewhere around the fighting-top, and Stede smiled to himself.
“Okay then.”
There was silence for a bit. Stede gathered his thoughts.
“He was wrong – Badminton, I mean.”
Silence from above.
“I didn’t ruin Mary when I left. She – ha – I’d never seen her smile before. Not really. Not how she smiled when I told her I was leaving them again. Funny really.”
More silence. A rhythmic tapping, as of a booted foot against a wooden mast.
“I didn’t ruin Blackbeard either, if today’s shenanigans are anything to go by.”
The tapping stopped.
“Pretty scary stuff there. With the smoke and the screaming and all. That’s proper pirating right there. Not sure I should really forgive you for marooning the crew, but that’s definitely a Blackbeard sort of a thing to do.”
Silence again. He was definitely still there somewhere though, Stede knew. He could smell the smoke again; perhaps a little closer now. Maybe Blackbeard would kill him after all. He wouldn’t blame him for being tempted, listening to himself wittering on; and after what he’d done. Well, he might as well go the whole hog, if he was going to die anyway.
“I, ah, realised something, too. Well, Mary helped me, actually. Ed?”
There was a snap and a jerk as the courses of rope were suddenly cut. Stede stumbled forward and it was all he could do to remain upright.
Ed’s hand caught at his elbow, steadying him. Then his other arm slipped around Stede’s shoulders, bringing him closer.
“Ed? I think I’m in lo-”
And then he was kissing him, the scent of leather and gunpowder and smoke and – was that Stede’s own lavender soap underneath it all? – surrounding them both for a long moment that lasted forever and not long enough.
Ed broke away, “Shit.”
“What is it?” Stede questioned through the biggest grin he’d ever grinned.
“Shit. Stede. I killed Lucius.”
“You did what?!”
***
Lucius nibbled on a dry ship’s biscuit in his cramped hiding place between decks, listening to the muffled sound of arguing coming from above. He’d been on his way back through the tiny passageway when the voices had started, and he’d frozen halfway up a cramped ladder, not wanting to risk making a sound. Then, when he realised who was talking, he’d started to pay attention.
There was a break in the voices on deck. He risked a quick peek through the boards. Now that was a turn-up, he smiled. Maybe he’d be able to get out of here sooner than he thought. That’d be nice, to be able to stand up really straight. Stretch his legs.
He started at the sound of his own name being spoken. Now what were they-? Oh. Yeah, that might put a dampener on things. Stede was pushing himself away from Blackbeard, crying in a horrified voice, “You killed him? Why?”
Blackbeard shrugged, “Do I need a reason? He knew too much, scribbling everything down all the time. I was angry.”
“You can’t go around murdering people just because we had a little tiff,” Stede sounded so indignant that Lucius had to suppress a snigger. He could almost hear Blackbeard’s eyes rolling.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m Blackbeard? You know, with the pirating and the stabbing?”
Stede seemed to have to think about that one, “… well, yeah obviously but -” Blackbeard was shifting guiltily from foot to foot. Oh dear. “ – there’s more isn’t there?” Stede demanded.
Blackbeard nodded, actually a little shamefully, Lucius thought. Too right. Stede waited with his arms folded.
This was going about as badly as Lucius could have imagined. Well, he could just stay here and hope that they’d work it out themselves, or… he sighed. Lucius to the rescue, again.
There were passages and secret doorways all over the ship, letting out into the captain’s cabin, the galley and other spaces belowdecks. He knew there was a hatch around here somewhere that opened onto the deck, but in the dark it wasn’t so easy to find. He pulled himself up the last few rungs and twisted around towards the next narrow passageway. Honestly, he really didn’t know how anyone managed without him.
Blackbeard was scuffing his boots against the deck, “Might’ve killed your library too,” he whispered.
“My books! No?!”
Lucius gasped. If anything, that sounded even more outraged than before. Hmph. Try getting decent piratical relationship advice from a book, Stede.
Blackbeard muttered something that might have been, “Reminded me of you too much. Didn’t like how that made me feel.”
Lucius risked another glance through the planks. This really was utterly fascinating. It looked like Stede had been brought up short. He’d stopped gesticulating “Ah, well… Well, there are always more books to plunder”, he didn’t much sound like he believed it though, “I guess.”
It was rather sweet, actually. Blackbeard could only look at his feet, and so Stede went a little further, “It’s okay. Really.”
“Really?”
Stede nodded, his hand tentatively touching Blackbeard’s shoulder, “Yeah.”
Blackbeard looked up, hopefully. “About Lucius too?”
Oh. Blackbeard you idiot.
Stede pushed away again, “No not about Lucius! You murdered him!”
That was it; he rolled his eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. “And Lucius has to fix things yet again…” he muttered. Where was that damned hatch? Ah, yes, not too far. He squirmed through the last few feet and clicked the latch, tumbling out onto the deck with a little wave at the pair of astonished faces.
“Hiii. It’s okay, he didn’t murder me.”
Stede let out the girliest scream Lucius had ever heard. No- wait – Blackbeard’s was worse. Oh God, seriously? Maybe he had been better off ‘dead’ after all.
“Any rum downstairs? I’m parched as a desert.”
The two captains just stared.
“You can go back to – whatever you were doing – now.” And Lucius decided he really would rather be anywhere but here, after all. They could work the rest of it out without him.
As he sauntered away, he heard them whispering in mutual astonishment.
“He didn’t die.”
“He didn’t die.”
“You still angry?”
“No. No, I don’t think I am.”