Chapter 16
27 February, 1660

It was a long and difficult night, the rain pelting us and drenching us thoroughly that I decided to divert the crews attention by readying the recently dead for burial at dawn. I also took a moment to go through the recently injured, most of their wounds relatively minor scrapes that had been bandaged by tying cloth strips around the wound to stifle the flow of blood.

"The storm will blow itself out by morning," Timon told me after I found him sitting in the top hammock lounging comfortably so I leaned against the post for a talk.

"That'll be good," I responded as the ship pitched and rocked as we crested a wave. "How you holding up?"

"Just another night in a storm," he said casually. "A little wet, but it's peaceful. You hear the ship groan and creak a little more than normal, but it's just a storm. It runs out of rain eventually."

"Good philosophy," I said as I nodded my head as I looked up at the brightening sky. "Look's like the storm is passing."

"Wonder how far off course we are," Timon remarked as he climbed out of his hammock.

"I'll probably need a few hours to figure that one out," I told him as I straightened up as Timon rousted his friend from sleep in the hammock below him.

"Sir," Pumbaa said as he saluted in his hammock once he saw me standing over him. "I didn't oversleep did I, sir?"

"You're good, Pumbaa," I told him the man who looked ready to shit a break. "I was just down seeing to the wounded. Mostly minor wounds that bleed a lot."

"Good to know," Timon said as Pumbaa crawled out of his hammock. "Best thing is to keep your head down during a fight. Less likely to get wounded that way."

"But Timon!" Pumbaa said affronted. "That's no way to fight!"

"Fight shmight," Timon argued with his friend and I left the two to have a friendly argument. "Barreling into fight is the best way to get killed."

"I disagree," I heard Pumbaa say as I crawled up the still rain soaked deck to find Jasmine peeling potatoes on a barrel. The Arabic beauty was again dressed with her sky blue cloak over her shoulders and I wondered if it was for warmth or to shed water.

I was almost tempted to move past her when I caught a grunt of pain and what sounded like 'ouch' in a heavy accent that made me stop and check on her. She was holding her hand with a fresh cut that was just starting to ooze blood.

"Allow me," I told her as I took a nearby rag and wrapped it around her hand and cinched tight. With my new view I caught sight of her drenched white shirt that clung to her skin, it's thinness and drenched state allowing me to see her lady mounds as I held her hand.

"Thank you," she said as I let go her hand. She caught sight of my eyes and followed it down before realizing what I was looking at and pulled her cloak tight.

"Sorry," I said as she looked uncomfortable as she grabbed another potato to peel. "Try finding a vest to wear when we take our next ship. It'll cover your...uh..."

"Alsudur," she said, the word meaning nothing and likely Arabic. "Again, thank you."

"Welcome," I said as I turned away as she continued to skin the potatoes. The sky continued to brighten as the clouds thinned, and I led a solemn funeral for the five dead, my surviving crew gathered and respectful as we buried them at sea.

Once I had the dead buried and my ship on an easterly course, and after consulting the ship's heading, I was able to determine an approximate position for my ship. It was going to be two days back to Nevis, or so I hoped, and as the day were on we sighted land. Plotting it on the map, I figured we were passing the Virgin Islands which was good as it gave me a point of reference to navigate with, when Melody signaled there was smoke on the island.

I brought out my spyglass to check on the source when I saw the flash of something on the beach that drew my eye. Putting the spyglass to my eye, I saw that there were two men on the beach, one of them with what looked like a mirror that he was using to reflect the light and draw attention.

"Stow the sails!" I called as I shut the spyglass and pocketed it. "Lower a longboat! Volunteers to go and fetch those two men from shore?"

I quickly had eight men file into the longboat and began rowing for the men, who as I watched, began to douse their signal fire and gather their few items to them. When they returned some short time later and the boat was being lifted back aboard, I got my first look at the men and the fine specimen the one was.

Tall, broad shouldered and well muscled, he looked the epitome of a professional wrestler with his wispy blonde hair and blue eyes while his short and stout companion reminded me of the evil clown from Spawn. Both were glad to be rescued and came to shake my hand, the tall one's grip a vise on my hand.

"Thank you for rescuing us, captain," the tall one said.

"How'd you come to be marooned?" I asked them pointedly, my hand on a borrowed cutlass. The question had merit because even my own Articles called for a man to be marooned if he were too much of a problem child.

"That cursed pirate Hook sank my ship, the Dreamer's Delight," the tall one growled but something nagged at me. I'd heard that name before. "She wasn't as impressive as yours."

"The Dreamer's Delight," I said as I searched for the memory, then found it. "Your ship, you say?"

"Yes," the man said as my heart sank.

"My understanding was your ship sank with all hands," I told the man to make his shoulder's sag.

"Megara is probably crying her eyes out," he said as he bowed his head.

"Easy big guy," the man I took for Phil said as the rotund man cut me a hate filled glare. "Now where did you hear about our ship being sunk?"

"Tavern in Saint Eustatius," I lied as I wanted to spare the man the pain that was to come even as my heart felt like it was being ripped in half. "Along with other talk about the notorious pirate and his kills."

"Yeah, that overgrown, pompous ass has it coming," Phil growled as he looked me over. "You heading back to Saint Eustatius anytime soon?"

"Eventually, yes," I told the pair which seemed to brighten Hercules mood. "We're privateers and I was hoping to take some ships before I returned to port to make this trip profitable. So far we're down five men and have yet to take a ship."

"Good," Hercules said as he nodded his head. "We'll trade passage back to Saint Eustatius in turn for helping out until you decide to make port."

"Deal," I said as we shook on it, glad at the former captain's poor choice of wording. "Until then gentlemen, pitch in."

I turned and left the pair as I shouted for the sails to be set as we got underway, my mind going back to the movie of the Man in the Iron Mask where King Louis had sent Raoul to the worst fighting imaginable so that he would die and he could court the lad's fiance. I knew, having already officiated the funerals of five men today alone, that a ship's battle was a terrible thing and that men died in battle. While I wouldn't do anything underhanded like stab Hercules in the back during a fight, I did hope that Hercules and Phil would die so that I could keep Megara by my side as she was likely already carrying my child.

Blowing out a sigh, I could only hope I didn't have to say goodbye to the woman after growing so close.