For Gain and Glory
Prologue
Edward Kenway was born in 1693 into most unfortunate circumstances for a poor lad; he desired a much better life than that to which he was born. He longed for influence, wealth, and land of his own, but his lowly birth would make achieving any of that difficult at best. He wanted an easy life, too, and as a wise friend would tell him, no honest man led an easy life. In truth, this would underscore Kenway's primary struggle, wanting an easy life while trying to live it as a good man.
He was a scoundrel as a lad, with a hot temper and foolhardy and reckless manner, though he did sometimes chose his battles wisely. While defending a young maid from the unwanted advances of three drunken men, he met his first wife, Caroline Scott. Her family employed the girl, and when she hadn't returned from the market, Caroline had been sent to find her. Edward was nearly unconscious when Caroline happened upon the fight and frightened the others off. She attended to his wounds and in spite of their mismatched social standing, they fell in love and were married in 1711. Edward loved Caroline and tried to do good by her, but finding steady work that paid well and did not break one's spirit was difficult and he took to drinking. Try though she did to support Edward, he was fixated on a life at sea and did not seem to take his responsibilities to her seriously. In 1713, Caroline left him to live with her parents.
Desperate to realize his dreams and prove himself worthy of Caroline, Edward became a privateer and went to the West Indies to fight in the War of the Spanish Succession. It was during this time that he met the likes of Ed Thatch, Benjamin Hornigold, and James Kidd, among others, all men of courage like him who were searching for wealth and the freedom to do as they please. Fast friendships were formed. Barely a year into his service, however, the war ended. No closer to his goal, Edward chose to stay in the West Indies to seek fortune and glory.
A quick and clever man, Edward could sail a ship, hunt and fish. He learned to sew so he could repair sails and clothing, and fashion his own pouches and holsters. He was good enough with numbers to be trusted to help his captain buy and sell goods at port, and he could read and write better than most of his peers. Even so, he found it difficult to rise above his station. As time passed, he realized he would have to seize whatever opportunity might come his way if he hoped to do better. In the summer of 1715, life presented Edward an opportunity he could not refuse.
What Edward Kenway saw as a quick and easy solution to his woes would be, in fact, the start of a great adventure. However, as clever as he was, Edward was too selfish to consider the far-reaching consequences of his actions. He had much to learn, and some of those lessons would be hard ones to master.
Shipwrecked
Fragmented images danced through Kenway's mind. Visions of Caroline; of a fierce battle at sea; a shadowy figure leaping from another ship's mast to theirs, dropping down to kill the captain; an explosion; bodies floating around him. He awoke, cold and wet and gritty, the ocean having washed him up onto land. Coughing out water, he crawled further up the beach, collapsing to roll onto his back. He squinted against the glare of the sun as he gasped for air. Gulls circled above him, grey and white streaks against azure skies. The storm had passed, he was alive, as impossible as that seemed, and he laughed at his luck. Quieting himself, he listened for sounds of life. An unnatural splash along the water's edge caught his attention.
It was his captain's assassin. The man pulled himself out of the water and onto the beach, settling a few feet away from Edward.
"Was it good for you as well?" Edward asked with a chuckle. This man had killed his captain, true, but Edward imagined there was good reason for that. The captain had been a bastard to all and a friend to none.
"Havana," the assassin said. "I must get to Havana."
"Well, I'll just build us another ship, will I?"
"I can pay you. Isn't that the sound you pirates like best? One hundred Escudos." The man held his right arm close to his body, hand shaking. He was injured.
Edward pulled himself up, interested in the money, certainly, but not at all pleased with the man's attitude. If he recalled his maps correctly, and his sense of where they were was correct, he knew this island was deserted. This bloke was dreaming if he thought leaving would be easy. Edward grabbed at a nearby bottle, hoping it might contain unspoilt rum. Finding it empty, he tossed it away.
"Keep talking," he said with a lopsided smile.
"Will you or won't you?"
Edward got to his feet and walked the assassin, holding out a hand to help him up. "You don't have that gold on you now, do you?" Cocky and sure of himself as ever, he smiled, trying to be charming and humorous.
The assassin, however, was of a more serious mind. He drew his pistol and pointed it at Edward's face, causing the sailor to stagger back and topple over onto the beach, making a most undignified squawking sound as he did so.
"Jaysus, mate," Edward gasped, holding his hands up. For the first time in days, he felt a cold trickle of fear snake through him.
"Bloody fucking pirates," the assassin cursed, venom in his voice. He pulled the pistol's trigger but nothing happened.
The two men regarded one another briefly before the assassin turned and ran off. Edward breathed a sigh of relief as he picked himself up off the ground and flexed his legs.
"I'm on to you, Snakesby!" He shouted. He caught sight of the man's distinctive blue coat disappearing into the foliage further inland and gave chase. "Come on mate, we're off to a bad start!"
The assassin was quick and nimble, heading deeper into the forest, but Edward was close behind. He hadn't managed to survive these years at sea through good luck alone; he was fit, strong, and stubborn as any man with something to prove. He could climb a ship's rigging with ease and adapt quickly to new environments. And he had a peculiar ability to sense things beyond what most men could see, a way of ... knowing that he had never truly understood but had learned to use to his advantage. Following this assassin, Edward began to see a way of moving through the landscape using the trees, man-made structures, and rocky outcroppings as well as any path on the ground.
"Keep your distance. If you follow me, I'll kill you!" The assassin's second pistol was working nicely and Edward felt the sting of a bullet as it skimmed past his upper arm.
Edward's good-natured grin dissolved. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and listened. Opening them again, he saw the assassin through the trees, narrowing his focus on him, marking him as he would any animal he hunted. By some miracle, he still had two short swords attached to the belt at his waist and he drew them as he closed the gap between himself and the assassin. A man now well accustomed to fighting for his life, Edward had learned to use every part of his body as a weapon, and he was proficient with guns and swords as well. He rushed the assassin, knocked his pistol to the ground, grabbed the man's fist as he tried to strike back, and pulled him closer to butt heads with him. Spinning out of the assassin's reach, Edward closed in again to drive both swords through his rib cage. Pulling the blades out quickly, he let the assassin fall to the ground, dead before he landed.
"I am sorry it came to this, mate. We could have worked together to get off this island, but you'll help me all the same."
Edward noticed a sealed pouch at the man's waist and opened it, finding a letter, a map, some gold, and a strange cube made of glass. This was Mister Duncan Walpole, travelling to Havana to deliver a package to Governor Laureano Torres y Ayala. The governor's letter to Walpole informed Kenway that the governor didn't know what Walpole looked like, but that he would be recognizable by the costume he wore. Edward looked down at Walpole's body. He was about the same height as Kenway, only slightly larger, and he no longer had any use for his things. The decision made, Edward stripped the man of all he owned and assumed his identity. He would find a way to Havana to deliver Walpole's package, collect the reward, and find a ship.
Kenway had luck, for good or ill, and almost immediately he spotted a schooner anchored off a secluded beach nearby. This ship was owned by a merchant named Stede Bonnet, he would soon discover, and Bonnet had the great misfortune of being in the area at the wrong time. He and his crew were surrounded by British soldiers who believed them to be pirates and it was clear they intended to arrest or kill the man and his crew. Edward may have been a scoundrel, but he could not stand idly by while innocent people were abused so heartily, and he came to their aid, killing the soldiers. Bonnet's ship was in good stead and he offered Edward, who introduced himself as Duncan Walpole, passage to Havana in exchange for service as Bonnet's helmsman. They set sail immediately.
As he steered their course toward Havana, Edward Kenway took a deep breath. Sea air filled his lungs and he tipped his face toward the sun, letting the wind whip his blond hair about his face. He was on to something, something big he imagined, and the thrill of adventure raced through him. He would make something of himself, indeed, but he could not possibly know how many twists and turns the journey would take along the way, how many lives he would affect, or how much heartache might follow. A selfish man rarely thinks of such things until it's too late.
A/N: I really enjoyed the story of AC4: BF, and often wondered what Edward was up to during the gaps in the game's timeline. Of course, that got my imagination running around and when I lost momentum on "This is What Matters", I decided to get this out of my head an onto FF. I blame Zevgirl for encouraging me to "Doo eet"! On that note, my thanks to her for her friendship and encouragement. It is my intention to try posting a chapter here every other week, and to work on other stories in between. Now back to TIWM... Cheers!