Part I, Chapter 6 - December, 1717

Winters didn't really exist in the West Indies. Britain must have been blanketed in white snow now, but as Edward sat with Thatch and Bonnet at Old Avery, where the only thing to blanket the general region was white sand, Edward fidgeted in his bulky gear like he would in July.

"Shite. Where to get them medicines." Thatch stated more than asked.

The three of them couldn't quite enjoy the rum while the plague was rampant. Even the musicians couldn't bring themselves to carry a cheerful tune when there was so much gloom about. Perhaps the liveliest person in the heart of the pirate republic was Anne, pacing all over the tavern to distribute drinks and strike up conversations with customers who wanted to wash away their troubles.

"You," Bonnet began, "You say the closest doctor is located in Havana?"

"Aye," Thatch gave a somehow hopeful gaze at Bonnet, "An'?"

"But we can't… go," he responded, trailing off briefly, "To Havana."

"An' be sent to the gallows the bloody followin' day?" Thatch scoffed and took a swallow from his mug. "'Fraid not. See, that's the thing with maintainin' repute of me sort. The moment I step on their soil? 'nstead of reasonin' like men, the Spanish'd chain me up."

"If we were to go undercover, and bag up the man to take back here, so to say?" Bonnet suggested.

Thatch wheezed a laugh and played out the potential scene, "'Problem, soldier of Spain? Oh- this sack 'ere that could fit a full-grown doctor? Hmm, whuz 'at? What're we smugglin' into our ship in the dead of night?'" he scoffed at the thought, "I've a feelin' the ruse wouldn't play out as we'd like. But, say, that's a darin' ruse to come up with. Spoken like a true pirate. Cheers, mate."

They clinked their mugs, Thatch nonchalant and Bonnet hesitant.

Edward offered his opinion, "It ain't too bum an idea, Bonnet. I could be the one to… transport the chap. The Spanish don't recognize me. Moreover, I could come up with a way to get our man out of Havana without force." Both Thatch and Bonnet appeared intrigued. "Me and my charms have our ways. I could do the subtle work neither of you could do."

Then the other two pirates looked at one another, then back at Edward. Bonnet agreed, "I rather like the sound of it. Comments, Mr. Thatch?"

Thatch twiddled the mug back and forth on the table in thought, "Aye. With Kenway in on the scheme, we could get a doctor. If he's completely in, that is." He eyed Edward seriously, demanding loyalty if the young pirate was going to promise he could and would go through with his word. "Let's not ferget we must pinpoint just where the doc is."

"True that, Thatch," another voice chimed in. Edward looked between his mates to find another familiar face approaching.

"Thought I'd find you lads here after seein' Jackie and the Q-A-R docked," Hornigold placed his hands against the backs of Thatch and Bonnet's seats, "Hopefully celebratin' a newfound solution to this forsaken mess?"

"Actually, yes, Mr. Hornigold," said Bonnet, "We were just discussing Edward's proposal: make off with a doctor from Havana."

"Aye? How, precisely?"

Edward explained, "I sail to Havana, 'convince' a doctor of skill to come along with me, I sail back here, and he heals the town."

Hornigold thinned his lips, "What would you say to the man to lure him this-a-way? It's a chancy ploy."

"Yet it's our most promisin'. What ain't chancy, Ben?" Thatch jabbed, "Merely utterin' a cuss is dangerous and frightenin' to ya, lest ya be damned."

"Caution ain't cowardice, Thatch." Hornigold warned.

"Ah, I don't suppose a quarrel will solve our issue, will it gentlemen?" Bonnet offered.

"Don't-" Hornigold turned to the gentleman pirate to lash out at him before pausing and confessing, "Good point. But this plan of yours…? There are other ways."

"Aye? Go on," Thatch urged sharply, "What options do we have?"

Hornigold simply thinned his lips, and no one offered any more ideas.

"Well," Edward clinked of the mug onto the table, "I've had my fill of rum. I think I'll take Jackie for a cruise round these parts. Any of ya lads care to join?"

Hornigold shook his head side to side while still pondering their options while Thatch refused, "Ya have this tendency to get into battle, Kenway, an' I don't want to give in to violence so soon to soldiers that aren't worth it."

Edward lazily saluted a farewell, "Then adiós."

"Oh, take Bonnet with ya, Kenway," suggested Thatch, "Hornigold taught me to captain, he an' I both taught ya the ways, an' now its yer turn to teach."

"It would be a learning experience!" Bonnet backed up his chair into Hornigold behind him. With a fleeting apology, he got up hastily to join Edward who was halfway down the steps.

Edward wasn't entirely certain how he felt about it all as he jerked his head towards the docks and continued downward, "Awright, come along, Bonnet."

By Hornigold's frown and pursed lips at the departing men, it was clear he was rather peeved at their lack of contribution towards solving the issue.


"Another one o' the capn's friends taggin' 'long, eh?" a crewman commented.

"Popular fellow," another replied, "The capn, I mean."

"Dash my buttons," cried Bonnet, beside the helm, "What success you've found, Edward!"

"It's nothing to what I seek, mate," the slimmer blonde responded plainly, looking ahead.

"That you say so heavily," Bonnet chuckled, "I've merely dreamt of journeys like the ones you must undergo daily!" He smiled towards Edward, but was met only with a nod.

Bonnet remained quiet at that, and went over next to a swivel gun to lean against the wooden rail. He admired the way the sunlight twinkled off of the water's surface at innumerable angles. Though he had seen these sights all his life, it was always spectacular how the green of the islands complemented the blues and whites of the seas and sky. His gaze going around and ending up pointed at the Jackdaw's sails, he discovered that the shrubbery was an almost identical hue to the diamond-shaped patches adorning the cloth.

It was far too warm under the noon sun, so Bonnet undid his cravat. And then shrugged off his overcoat. Then he undid the blue sash keeping the coat awkwardly bunched at his bulging waist.

The shuffling grabbed Edward's attention, "If ya wish, Bonnet, you could survey what's below deck. It's far cooler underneath. Shady there."

"Oh, I couldn't! I would surely be a stranger, and I've nothing to say to your men who might wish to strike a conversation with me. I'm much more comfortable in your presence."

By now, they were a good kilometer away from the nearest coast. "I'll show ya around then," Edward replied to his friend before letting go of the wheel and yelling, "We'll bob here a while, lads!" He waved "come along" to Bonnet as he walked past him down the steps.

As Bonnet folded his coat and sash, he responded to Edward's suggestion, "I'd greatly appreciate it, though there's no need."

"You came along to learn, right? Let's go."

In the captain's cabin, Bonnet made remarks about the decor, "A quaint lodge you have, Edward! But doesn't the clutter seem… dull at times? And where is the literature kept?"

"I suppose your quarters are spotless, and lined with volumes?"

"Yes- Aye! Even when Mr. Thatch came along," he nodded at the image of his own cabin, "I don't suppose you have tea? The leaves at the tavern were… damp, and I'm bloody parched!"

Edward half-smiled, unbelieving, "Now, come on mate. If ya wish to manage a band of seasoned sailors, ya don't go about with a tea cup and its matching saucer. I've some rum on the lighter side; have some of that."

He stepped over fallen items on the way to the desk. After shoving around various trinkets and maps covering the wood, he eventually held up and revealed a rusted tin mug. As he went back to the barrels by the double doors, he asked Bonnet, "How does Thatch live with ya? Well, rather- how do you bear one another? From what I remember of his quarters while we privateered, mine could have been said to be pristine in relation to his." He recalled one incident where he awoke to a horde of roaches crawling over him when he once dozed off on a visit to Thatch's.

"Well, one could say I keep things together while Mr. Thatch does the strenuous activities. He's quite the teacher, really! Though it does become difficult at times do night-time reading, what with all our getting knocked about in battle."

"Hmm," Edward responded numbly as he handed over the rusty mug, now filled with a liquid of a vinegary scent, "Here."

"My thanks," Bonnet took the thing, but didn't take a sip.

"Now let's head below deck."

Within the Jackdaw's hull, some of the crew were active.

Some were dozing in their bunks or passed out with a mug or bottle next to them. But in an area just next to the stairwell, two men were engaged in a fight.

"With such brawling about, you're certain the crew ponders not over mutiny?" asked Bonnet.

"A little friendly fighting serves to train the crew, in fact. There's also the added benefits of bonding over the matter."

"Bonding due to fighting? Shouldn't opposite effects be produced?"

"You'd be surprised, mate!"

Escaping out of the grasp of the other, one crewman looked over to two cutlasses on top of barrels nearby. He looked back to the other, and the other nodded. They both eased up and went over to grab a cutlass. As they began to fence, Bonnet's eyebrows raised.

Edward explained, "Now, this is a game we like to play on the Jackdaw- fence until one of ya gets cut."

"What if you get stabbed?"

"That's what makes it fun! But we've established that jabs are not permitted in the game. We've yet to have any tragedies. And the crew knows how to pick rivals of the same skill."

The men poked at each other at first, warming up. Then they began to swing their blades. Bonnet unconsciously tensed at a particularly loud clash.

"Why not try your hand, Bonnet?" Edward asked playfully.

"I couldn't!"

Finally, one of them wounded the other in his arm. Blood trickling down his limb, he extended a hand and shook that of the other man.

"Oi, no ill will," said the injured crewman not to his opponent, but to Bonnet as he approached him and took the still-full tin from his hand, and gulped down the light rum. Offering it back, Bonnet held up a hand in refusal and smiled slightly.

"Your form seems to have bettered, Louis," Edward complimented the wounded man, "But Miguel still stands as the champion of our fencing matches."

Miguel, wiping the cutlasses, grinned and nodded once towards the captain.

Louis winced. "This one could get nasty. Off to see John, then," he stated and set off down the corridor.

"John?" Bonnet inquired to Edward.

"He's our medical man, of sorts. Nothing on the level of saving Nassau, but he can fix up nasty gashes, prevent infections. Let's see how the magic happens."

Bonnet followed his friend deeper into the Jackdaw's underneath.

Along the way, they passed other crewmen passing their time with activities such as playing cards or maintaining their pistols. Edward approached each group of bunks and poked his head in all the rooms in the helm to make a remark:

"Eyo! What's the mood?"

"Swell as ever, Capn!"

In another, where a crewman was solemnly looking over letters:

"If ya worry so all the time, Jack, your mouth will droop as much as your mustache! Pirates are supposed to have a little fun."

"True that, Capn," he sighed and nodded firmly, a small curve of the lip upward suggesting good intentions.

In yet another where two were arm wrestling:

"Fun without me, eh?"

"Just one way to pass time while this search for 'the big one' goes on."

Bonnet couldn't tell if the man speaking was grinning from the captain's lightheartedness or if it was from the armwrestling.

"'The big one?'" Bonnet asked after they left the premises.

After a pause, Edward obliged, "I've come into information about a potential treasure to trump all treasures, Bonnet, and I promised the crew we'd one day locate it. It's one method of keeping up morale. Of course, I don't plan on giving too much of the share," he nodded as they went further into the area, their path lined by fishing supplies, barrels of rum, and broken cannons, "But remember this, Bonnet: a good captain is involved with the lives of his crew." I suppose I could say 'of his or her crew.'

"I see! Then I shall keep a log of my lads' activities."

"No, no. Keep up in your mind. Doing what you proposed would actually unsettle the crew, mate."

"Ah," Bonnet eyed the broken cannons with more scrutiny, "How many cannons have you, Edward?"

"Thirty and some. When we fix these ones up, perhaps approaching forty."

Bonnet whistled in awe as he pat one of the cannons, "Looking at this magnificent, strong empire you've come to preside over but not acknowledge in order to claim a lack of true authority, you must be pleased with everything, I imagine."

"I know how to have a good time, but it'll never be a complete good time until I hit it big."

"Hmm!" Bonnet agreed, thrilled somehow, "Shall you take on a title like Thatch as Blackbeard for when you do hit it big?"

"No, just simply Edward. But I do like to say that Ed-ward is my given name, and Re-ward is my middle. Would that suffice?"

"Oh, I like the sound of that! Edward Reward Kenway."

He doubtfully yet amusedly eyed the stouter blonde for his odd ways, and nodded slightly, "Aye."

He veered into a small room in the corner. Louis was there on a bunk, and a man Bonnet assumed to be John was standing next to him suturing the wound.

"Hello again, Louis, John," Edward greeted the crewmen, "This is Stede Bonnet, apprentice- you would say apprentice, right Bonnet?- of Blackbeard."

"Pleasure."

"Blackbeard! Impressive!" John gave Bonnet a look of approval.

"And so is what you are doing." Bonnet examined the needle John was using, "What materials do you use?"

"This is a wire of copper and thread of cotton."

"Hmm. And what are your methods of avoiding infection? I realize that's a widespread issue."

Edward looked curiously at Bonnet for his interest in John's work.

"I'm no doctor- not informed at all on natural philosophy for that matter- but I find that using new, scrubbed wire and laundered for those who need a fixing is your best bet for the best price."

"Ah, combining medicine with business," Bonnet nodded, yet looked doubtful- definitely impressed by John's financial acumen (as Edward knew Bonnet himself became wealthy from his own business), but Edward couldn't tell what bothered his friend.

Isn't it a given that a doctor treats patients as best they can- no matter the costs? Bonnet wondered.

John studied the wound closer, inspiring Louis to do the same.

"Bloody Miguel cut a tad too deep," Louis scoffed, but he did not seem much sour from the deed.

"No shite, Louis."

Leaving the two crewmen to their activities, Edward and Bonnet headed for the steps upward.

"This visit is certainly enlightening, Edward!"

"Fantastic, Bonnet. Truthfully, I hadn't known what to do when Thatch proposed I bring you along. But it's a delight escorting you around. I noticed you seemed particularly focused on John's ways in medicine. Why?"

"Like you, Edward, I'm fond of a comfortable lifestyle. My tea cups are of the finest porcelain, and my robes are of silk tinted with dyes from 'round the world."

"Awright," Edward commented, impressed, "But how does that connect to John?"

"Well, I even installed a library in my quarters, but the books are not just for display, you see. I prefer fiction and manuals on enterprise, but I've also read a good bit on medicine."

They paused to watch a new pair of crewmen dueling with cutlasses. A small crowd had gathered around already to watch as well.

Edward replied, "Fair enough. Anything you read that might apply-"

They all were then cast to the side, and they met the walls. Adé poked his head below deck, "Capn Kenway! Pirate hunters here!"

"Aw, hell," Edward groaned, "When does it end? Ready yourselves, lads! Come along, Bonnet."


"Ah, finally! Action!" Bonnet practically jumped up and down next to Edward at the helm, while crewmen rushed here and there busily.

If you wanted action all this time, Bonnet, you could have said so, Edward thought passingly as he focused on how best to make the hunters regret the day they were born. You could also be aiding the others reload or make quick repairs.

After several more orders to the crew and more exclaims from Bonnet, Edward noticed that the enemy hadn't attacked in an unusually long amount of time. Actually, they were headed away from the Jackdaw. Were they retreating? But we only scratched them…

"Oh look, Edward!"

Bonnet, not now, he thought but said, "They're withdrawing, aye-"

"Behind us!"

Edward quickly looked over his shoulder to find a magnificent galleon. Its sails appeared to be thoroughly patched, like stitching on never-healing gashes. The figurehead from this distance looked to be… a bull? And, my God, how many cannons there were!

Small wonder the hunters fled. "What in all the seas is that?" Edward asked, awed.

"It's the Q-A-R!"

"Ah, that's what Hornigold meant by 'Q-A-R'. What is the Q-A-R?"

"Were you not listening?"

"No. What is the Q-A-R?"

Bonnet looked confused, "'No' as in you were listening, or 'no' as you indeed were not listening?"

"What? No- what does it matter-" now Edward was getting muddled.

"It's Mr. Thatch!"

"Ya sure? A friendly, then?" Edward nodded, not needing an answer from Bonnet, "Awright, lads! We'll save them for another day! Weigh anchor!"

As the Jackdaw crew laid down a plank to bridge the two ships, the combined party of sailors found themselves barraged by cannon balls. The pirate hunters had snuck out from behind a nearby island.

"Are they sane?" Edward wondered aloud, "Do the honor, Bonnet: mortar."

"My pleasure! Kindly set off the mortar, lads!"

Although they went down with just that, the pirate hunters did do a fair amount of last-resort damage to the Queen Anne's Revenge. Some of the crew suffered shrapnel lodged in their skin. Others were lying still on the deck- whether they were merely unconscious or had actually perished was yet unknown. Among them was a large man in an elaborate coat and a hat decorated with a black feather.

Thatch.

The rest of the QAR crew stopped to stare curiously at their captain, making Edward and Bonnet unsettled and cautious as they approached the bodies.

"How fare you, Mr. Thatch?" Bonnet asked downwards.

"Thatch?" Edward urged as he sheathed his blades, "Thatch!"

He and Bonnet exchanged uncertain glances, then Bonnet knelt down. He nudged Thatch…

who immediately sat upright and roared.

Bonnet jerked away and rolled onto his back. Thatch laughed hard, slapping the ledge behind him multiple times after he got up. The crew around chuckled along.

"Damn you to hell, mate," Edward scoffed, but he smiled slightly at the prank.

"Damn me to hell all ya like. I keep returnin' among the living, Kenway," Thatch came over to his friend and slapped him on the back.

Even Bonnet, slowly lifting himself up, grinned, and as Edward considered Bonnet's somehow endurable (and even essential) at-times ingenuous personality, he was reminded of his pastoral life in Bristol, when the dream of luxury was most vivid. He was particularly naïve then. He then wondered what he currently was too inexperienced to understand.

One of Thatch's crewmen gave him a tin of rum and began handing out tins to the rest of the party.

"New friends eventually become old friends, and old friends eventually become old," Thatch proclaimed, "So let's drink while we're young!"

"Says one of the older of us here," Edward smirked playfully.

"Oi now, Kenway."


September, 1717

"Clip an angel's wings, what the devil is this, Ben?" Thatch indicated the galleon. Its figurehead matched his own expression going full-out with his Blackbeard persona.

"She goes by the name Concord. If ya wish, she could go by some'n else."

"Bullocks."

"Bullocks?"

"Yer not keepin' her for yerself?" he turned to his colleague, his face playfully sour before giving into a genuine smile, "Little Ben can barely hold in the presence of a frigate. With this, I could crush ya with a single blow."

"Watch it, Thatch," he warned, half-joking. Little Ben? He refers to my ship, right?

Thatch wheezed a laugh, "It ain't Christmas, Benny Boy! Not me birthday, either!"

"Hah! No pirate can celebrate either holiday without a sturdy vessel, Thatch. Especially not one who claims to rule the damned pirate republic. Treat her with yer utmost respect, if ya wish to keep her."

He grinned, revealing a few decaying teeth, "Hell, I'll treat her with the regards I've fer ye, twofold!"

"Well… That's not…" By God's name, respect me too. He scoffed and smiled, "A'right."

"Lighten up Benny Boy! Or if it'll make ye happy again, I'll return her to ye."

"No, don't. I'll just leave ya to her, Thatch," he smiled slightly and turned away.

"Aw, join the fun! Remember the time ye freshly got Little Ben. And don't leave me be before I at least give ye this!"

The sideburn-sporting pirate looked back and downward to find Thatch's hand outstretched, "I won't forget this, Ben."

Hornigold, tightlipped as he looked Thatch in the eye, shook his head coyly before grasping the offered hand.


As I mentioned in the introduction to chapter 0, I will be focusing not only on Kidd and Kenway, but on the other characters as well. They are all so human, even though they had limited screen time in the game. I wanted to explore them further.

Taking a step back and looking at what I'm doing, I'm writing fanfiction about people who once existed in real life. Well, that's what Ubisoft does, doesn't it? Write about people who aren't their own characters? So can we say that the writers at Ubisoft are also fanfiction writers?

So perhaps I wan't being truthful when I said last chapter to find out "next time on Buried Treasure" what Mary had in store for Edward. Next chapter, next month, for sure!