Of Diamonds and Doubloons:
Hello readers, I want to thank you all for being patient with me, and for following my new thread of Black Sails thoughts. I'm afraid, for those of you who were reading 'The Jewel of Nassau', that I have decided to abandon that story. I backed myself into a corner with it and couldn't find a way out; not without using just terrible writing anyway. Hopefully this one will be better for you all. So please review and follow! It means a lot!
The air stank of blood, sweat and gunpowder; a heady aroma that would make any person not used to it empty their stomachs over the side. Yellowish smoke swirled around the deck, settling on the wood in a powdery discharge that stained the skin and clothes of the men who were milling about. Bodies littered the ground; slumped over boxes, crushed beneath the fallen stem of the main mast, or curled up in the foetal position where they had sobbed that they wanted their mothers before they choked on a fetid mix of their own breath and blood as it bubbled up their throats.
The crew of The Walrus were known throughout New Province for their fearsome battle tactics; their bodies daubed with war paint and their voices raised in a united chant that would chill even the most experienced sailor to his bone. Their terror inducing appearance had helped them to win prizes time and time again; and this ship was no different.
Faith Alden groaned loudly as she threw another useless pistol aside. The pile beside her was growing larger as she dug through the weapon chest. The area below decks that she had perched herself in was full of storage containers and foul smelling hammocks. The hot Caribbean sun pelted through the ship's heavy wood, coating her in a layer of sweat that stuck her shirt and leather corset to her skin uncomfortably. Stray curls matted themselves against the wet flesh of her forehead and neck.
"A problem Faith?" The voice was well spoken and low, but still held a clear note of authority.
Throwing a glance over her shoulder she watched Billy Bones, the ship's bosun, pick his way across to her. He was so tall he had to hunch over considerably, and Faith raised an eyebrow knowing the awkward position wouldn't be comfortable for long. When he reached her side he crouched, picking up one of the guns to examine himself; long, agile fingers tracing the grain of wood at the handle.
"Not worth a fucking penny. Any of it." Faith grumbled, checking the flint and powder chamber of a blunderbuss. She was right. The weapons were unfit for use; meaning that they couldn't be used by their crew or be traded for money or goods when they returned to a home port. Billy grunted an acknowledgement, a frown dipping at the point between his eyebrows. The black war paint that was smeared across his face and bare torso was starting to run, leaving patches of tanned skin visible through the make up. "Any luck elsewhere?"
"She's near dry. Flint better hope there's something worthy on board this ship. Singleton's already preaching to the crew; strutting around like he owns the place." Billy gave an exasperated sigh as he stood once again, offering Faith a hand up from her spot.
"Yeah, well, that needs to be dealt with. If that prick becomes captain, I'm for the drink. 'e believes women are bad luck. Thinks our bleeds move the moon and swell the tides or some shit."
Billy barked out a laugh, kicking the unwanted guns around as they picked their way out of the cramped area.
"The crew wouldn't stand for it. You've worked hard to show you're worth your place here. They respect you. You're one of us."
Faith smiled softly and chuckled a little. "That's sweet of ya, Billy. But we'll see. There's only so much bargaining you and Gates have in you. Singleton is sexist scum, and it's not a view he's afraid to push on anyone."
Billy said nothing in return; the grim look still set on his handsome face. His massive booted feet dwarfed the rickety steps as he climbed back onto the upper deck. Faith watched as his frame disappeared, her throat dry as she shook her head; watching the thick muscles in the bosun's back and arms contort had long been a favourite pass time of hers. Not that she'd ever let on; fraternization was frowned upon, and besides Billy saw her as a sister, nothing more.
She quickly followed him out of the stuffy compartment; breathing in the battle scented air, her own boots clicking against the wood as the sharp, metal ended heels connected with the slats. Members of the prize's crew stared as she walked past them. It was understandable, having a woman on board was bad luck, a rule that was generally heeded throughout every realm of sea faring. Ann Bonny of The Ranger still swathed herself in thick coats large shirts and a wide brimmed hat to cover her identity when needed. Faith got along well with Anne, but disagreed with her on this aspect of their sea faring lives; preferring to wear deadly heels, tight but comfortable leather trousers and form fitting shirts. A black strip of silk Billy had picked up for her while they had stopped in Singapore held back her long, wild waves of cherry hair. She was used to the judgemental glances and just bared her teeth at them in a menacing display.
"Wondered where you'd got to." Logan stated as she sat on a set of steps beside him and Billy.
She glanced at him quickly, her eyes subconsciously darting over the bosun's well built and blood smattered chest as she looked past him. Logan looked as if he had barely seen any part of the battle; dark powder burns on his cheeks and a crimson spray of blood across his sleeves were the only give away.
"I'd have stayed wherever you scuttled off to. Save you listening to this shite." The dark haired pirate murmured nodding in the direction of Singleton who was riling up a bunch of scared looking seamen with talk of freedom and the choices and bounties a life of piracy offers. Faith rolled her eyes and reclined back against the steps, head tilted back and eyes closed; enjoying the warming rays across her cheeks.
"This is no time to sleep ya'know." Billy joked, smiling down at her and dropping the cloth he had been cleaning his sword with over her face with a soft chuckle.
"Sleep? I aint slept since we left shore."
"Oh? So … tell me when did you smuggle a piglet into your cabin?" His voice was laced with teasing as he absorbed the playful nudge her foot gave his thigh.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You don't? Well in that case we should find that pig, could do with some fresh meat."
Faith laughed, peeling the cloth off her face and handing it back to him, so he could clean the quickly blackening blood off of the blade.
"We'll be home soon. Fresh Meat, fresh rum, not so fresh pussy – beggars can't be choosers." Logan chimed in earning a dark look from Billy who shook his head at his friend.