(Disclaimer: I own nothing. Wish I did, but I don't.)
Just the Way it Should Be
It was pitch black out when the Glass Urchin dropped anchor off the coast of Pilón. Captain Pellinore's plan was simple: the crew would take the rowboats to shore, make their way through the streets as calmly and inconspicuously as possible, then haul it back to the boats once they had what they'd come for. According the captain, Winchcomb knew exactly where to find the man who possessed their unnamed objective, and the others would follow the old sailor's lead. The crewmen all clearly understood the need to keep a low profile on shore; only a fool would barge into the cutthroat pirate settlement firing away with his pistols. It was a sound plan, one with the element of surprise and little room for mistakes, and every man was content with it.
Everyone, that was, except for Wood.
"No!" the red-haired man whined futilely. "Why can't we come along? We can fight! I'll bet we're better fighters than most of the gits he's bringin' to shore!"
"Fighting isn't part of his plan," Yager explained as patiently as possible to the disgruntled youth. Even as they spoke, they were hurrying along the rail of the Urchin towards the quarterdeck at the stern. "The captain needs two men to mind the ship, and he told me that we're gonna be those men!"
A few meters away, Pintel was trying to ignore them as he looped a length of rope. He was still a bit wary about Pellinore's conversation, but his somewhat better judgment told him to keep his suspicions quiet. Even so, his shifty eyes kept scanning the faces of the other crewmen, searching for the captain.
"But this is a pirate port!" Wood continued adamantly. "He can't expect to go in and out without a fight!"
"I can if I leave a troublemaker safely behind!" a stern voice sharply replied from behind. Yager and Wood both whirled around to meet Pellinore's grim face. Likewise, Pintel sat up in surprise and stared at the scene.
Seeing that he had their attention, the captain continued stiffly. "I can do as I please, Mr. Wood. I am the captain and you are a part of my crew, and when I order you to mind the ship, I expect you to obey. I won't tolerate anything less." He lifted his eyebrows curtly. "Is that clear?"
Wood certainly looked like he wanted to argue, but oddly enough, he decided to hold back his eager chain of insults. Evidently, Yager's harsh words from that afternoon were still branded in his mind.
"Couldn't be clearer, Captain," he replied, tightening his jaw and lowering his eyes.
Pellinore gave him a swift, almost nonexistent nod and marched away. As he passed Pintel, the shorter pirate quickly put on a silly-looking grin and waved. If the captain even noticed his crewman, he showed no sign of it.
Once he was gone, Pintel glanced back over at Yager and Wood, who were now making their way up the steps to the quarterdeck without a word. Then he took his rope, stood up, and staggered clumsily over to the nearest rowboat.
He was definitely keeping his suspicions to himself now.
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The seaport of Pilón was one of the largest that Cuba could boast, and it had a history as old as piracy itself. It was actually a fort in its early days, founded and guarded by Spanish soldiers, but twelve years later it became one of the many bases to fall victim to Henry Morgan's extensive raid of the island. Today, Pilón was the home of pirates—and a frightful hoard of unwelcome residents they were. Even on its ugliest day, many sailors believed that Tortuga's crowd was easily paled by the scalawags of southern Cuba. The ancient, crumbling fortress wall now seemed like it was built to keep danger inside rather than out.
Pintel felt a lump rise in his throat as he eyed the stony barrier. The entire crew was crowded inside two rowboats, and their slow, heavy approach only added to his initial dread. Unable to push aside his edginess, he looked over at an equally cautious Rub who sat beside him.
"Who is this fellow anyway?" he asked the other man in a low voice. "The one the cap'n's lookin' for?"
Rub's face was absolutely clueless when he looked back at Pintel, and so it was Ashby who answered.
"Only the most right foul demon what ever sailed these waters." His voice grew eerily hushed and he slowed his rowing. "A curse on any man who dares to leave safe land behind him."
Rub and Pintel both gazed at the third crewman.
Ashby turned and met their stares with ghostly eyes. "Scarborough."
Pintel gulped. "Scarborough?" he echoed.
"Aye," Ashby continued. "They say 'e's not of this earth. That 'e only disguises 'imself with the face of a mad Scotsman to fool 'is enemies, but when the timing's just right…aah!"
He jerked his head forward for emphasis then, making the other two jump back with surprise.
"—'E unmasks 'imself." Ashby was practically whispering now. "'E's got the eyes of a monster, 'e does…Yeh look deep enough into 'is eyes, you can see 'im for what 'e really is. But yeh don't wanna look too deep, or those eyes'll get yeh. 'E once sank a ship, that Scarborough…just by blinkin' at it. And 'e drug all its crew down t'the burnin', black nothingness where 'e came from…all with 'is burnin', black eyes…"
His tale had ended. Rub and Pintel were both chalk white with horror, and for a moment, neither one could say anything. Finally, Rub's senses returned to him and spoke up with wonder.
"How do you know all that?"
Ashby's expression suddenly turned blank, instantly killing the suspense he'd created. "…I don't." He lifted his eyebrows in a stupid shrug, then held up a finger. "But I do know 'is name's Scarborough!"
Rub scowled, returning to his normal self. "Yer crazy."
"At least I were smart enough to protect my crazy head." Ashby pointed to the round, swooping English siege helmet that he'd donned for that night's venture. "Anyways, I 'eard the name from the captain 'imself!"
With that, he resumed his rowing as if nothing had happened.
"Scarborough," Cormac mumbled from behind them. "Wonder what the captain'd want with a fellow like that."
Pintel just stared blankly ahead, his face still locked in its petrified shape.
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Pellinore had his crew drag the rowboats as far into shore as they possibly could without beaching them. They were too far from the docks—the result of a small yet undeniable navigation error on the captain's part—but his plan was still to have their escape transports close to the fort wall. Once they were on land, Pellinore assigned two men to remain behind and mind the boats. The rest, he took with him.
Seven minutes later, Winchcomb had led them to an empty niche in the deteriorating wall, and the Urchin's crew entered Pilón with the utmost caution.
Pintel couldn't help feeling somewhat relieved by what he saw. Had it not been for its larger size and stony surroundings, he might have actually mistaken this place for Tortuga. Pirates of every sort littered the streets, drinking and stumbling around as they gleefully abandoned their senses for the night. The sounds of wild laughter and occasional gunfire filled the air. The balding man smirked to himself at these familiar observations; maybe this wasn't going to be so terrible after all.
Pellinore leaned a little closer to Winchcomb just then. "How much further?"
The older sailor was savagely concentrating on his task. "We're close," he hissed back. "Last time I seen it, it was two floors with a slash in the door. Mark my words, the old scoundrel's still in it."
Pellinore nodded slightly. "I'll tell the crew to split up. We only fight as a last resort." He was trying to hide his nervousness. Twelve men standing together like this was bound to look suspicious.
Winchcomb snorted like a bull. "Don't split 'em up too far."
The Englishman studied him warily, then turned towards the others. The closest crewman to him was a younger, dazed-looking fellow named Jiminy, whose dirty blonde hair was more or less pulled back in a grimy ponytail. Searching his mind for the right words, Pellinore looked around anxiously before he addressed the pirate.
"…You," he said, pointing. "Stay near the wall and make sure the way's clear. And…" He scanned the dirty faces of his followers. "Tell those two to move over that way, to the west."
Jiminy followed his direction. "Gill and Waldgrave?"
Pellinore nodded, oblivious. "Yes, them. And tell those three over there to stay here. The rest will come with Mr. Winchcomb and me."
Jiminy nodded. "Aye, Captain." A few seconds later, he was in a ring with those other five, explaining their newest orders. While they remained behind to sort out the arrangement, Pellinore and Winchcomb went on their way with the remaining four crew members: Owl Eyes, Ashby, Cormac, and a man named Botolph. Those would do just fine.
Once they'd moved on, the six who'd been left behind went their separate ways without a word. Jiminy hurried back the way he'd come, and the two pirates named Gill and Waldgrave wandered off in the direction they thought was west. Now the only three left standing in that spot were Rub, a cannoneer called Nequom, and Pintel. The mismatched trio stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, then with nothing else to do, they sat down on the ground.
Around them, the pirates of Pilón continued with their heedless activity.
THUD!
The three turned and saw a nearby man, clearly drunk, cursing to himself as he struggled to climb back onto his seat atop a keg barrel. His companion, equally intoxicated, was howling so hard with laughter that he nearly toppled over as well. The fallen man scowled.
"Shuddup!" he slurred angrily. When his friend's cackling still didn't stop, the irate man reached up with both hands and yanked him roughly to the ground. Even then, the laughing continued. "Shuddup!"
"You…you went down…like an old seabird, mate!"
"I said shuddup!" Then the enraged drunkard lunged at his friend. However, his tipsy state spoiled his aim, and he collided with Rub an instant later. Pintel and Nequom both jumped back with surprise, and their bearded comrade shouted with confusion and the impact completely knocked him over. The intoxicated pirate growled down at him, barely aware of the situation.
"Watch where ye's goin'!" he growled.
Rub shoved his unexpected attacker off fiercely, his infamous temper beginning to take over. "You watch it, yeh filthy cad!"
Pintel inched back more, growing antsy again. "Uh, Rub…"
The fiery assailant wasn't about to back down. Baring his rotten teeth, he grabbed Rub by the collar and snarled hideously. Every remnant of his common sense had been drowned by rum.
"Don't yeh be's rasclin' wit me!" he growled. "Or I'll bleed the rascal right outta yeh!"
Rub just leered back. "You shut it, yeh ugly heap of—"
He never got to finish the sentence.
The drunk man lashed out entirely on impulse, drawing his pistol and wildly aiming it at Rub's face. Seeing the empty barrel, Rub only had time to act on instinct, and in that chilling second, his instinct told him to fight back. Without a thought, the bearded pirate yanked out his sword and swung blindly, hitting his opponent square in the chest. The drunk man fell back with another loud thud, and the crazed rage dwindled in his black eyes.
And then his friend did stop laughing.
It took several seconds fro Rub to realize what he'd just done, and seeing the dead man's body, he looked up with horror at the remaining stranger. A slowly growing sneer greeted him back.
Pintel and Nequom were frozen in fear, anticipating the next horrible move.
The still-living drunk man continued to stare at Rub for another brief moment, then with a twitch in his dirty face, he threw down his empty mug and sprang unsteadily to his feet with a bone-chilling roar.
Far ahead, Pellinore was stopped dead in his tracks by the battle cry. The hellish howl was soon followed by the clang of a sword and a loud gunshot, and then there was more shouting. Gripped by the terror that he'd barely been able to hold at bay, he whirled around to try and seek out the source of the sound. When he saw nothing through the confused jumble of pirates around him, stared desperately over at Winchcomb.
To his horror, there was a gleaming grin of utter madness and bliss on the old sailor's twisted face.
"There's your last resort!" he hooted.
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(Tough chapter to write. Hope it's worth the delay folks :) Rags'll be back soon!)
