The HMS Lenny had been at sea for only five days, accompanied by a fleet of schooners and gunboats – primarily because Woodes Rogers was too cheap to spare anything bigger on this ship. Yet already the mood on board seemed to be turning mutinous quickly. Commodore Thornbeard simply wasn't a popular, bright, or competent man when it came to anything, really. Everyone but the Templars wondered why he had been chosen to head such an important pirate hunting mission. Even Thornbeard didn't even know the real reason he'd been chosen, merely repeating the same lies Woodes Rogers had told him in his head until they had become reality.
"Listen to me, good knaves! As your commander, I bring you urgent news detailing the mission that has been bestowed upon us!" Commodore Thornbeard orated quite loudly as he stood at the helm over the mass of British redcoats. Most of them were blinking, yawning, struggling to avoid falling asleep. "For far too long, we have abided the lawless ruffians… these pirates of the Caribbean, to terrorize merchants and good men making an honest living! But now is to strike fear back into their hearts, remind them that they cannot trample upon the tail of great Britannia and avoid reprisal by our fearsome might!"
"You mean like those pirates right there?" One of the soldiers pointed over the starboard side.
"HUH? PIRATES? HERE?" Commodore Thornbeard's cocksure face that he'd put on while giving his speech suddenly turned into that of a child who set the house on fire by mistake… and whose parents had just come home. He ducked behind an officer, as if he was using the man as a shield. The officer looked mortified simply because the Commodore was touching him. "Oh Christ, oh Christ, oh Christ… please take them instead of me… please take instead of me…" Then he realized he said all of that out loud. His face turned a ghastly shade of red, like an overripe apple or a sunburned robin.
"Silly Commodore, they're all the way over there!" The crew and redcoats all laughed.
"Phew…" The Commodore wiped his sweaty brow. "Wait… did you just all speak down to me? LAUGH AT ME? I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW… I WAS COMMANDING SHIPS IN THE FURIOUS WATERS OF QUEEN ANNE'S WAR WHEN YOU WERE ALL JUST LEARNING HOW TO SPELL YOUR NAME!"
"He commanded a fleet?" One of the redcoats in the captive audience asked his arm mate.
"I… I… I…" The Commodore's eyes were teary as he continued to rant, like he had fallen into a pit where chefs were chopping onions for all perpetuity. "I… led our Majesty's majestic navy to victory against the French and Spanish while you discovered how to masturbate with help from your sister!"
"Nah. Storm hit the fleet he was sailing with. Sunk everyone but him. Also sunk the entire enemy fleet by coincidence. The frigate that picked him up found him stark raving mad, trying to steer a piece of debris. Tried to take all the credit anyhow." The other redcoat whispered back.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up! I can hear all you traitorous gits, plotting behind my back! Well, I'm onto you! I will have you all shackled tighter than a slave ship! Anyhoo…" The Commodore wiped more sweat from his brow. "About those pirates…"
"Aren't we meant to do something about them?"
"Only if they're attacking ships flying our flag. That's bad. Otherwise, it's not our problem." The Commodore stated quite nonchalantly.
"What if they're cuttin' up some big-bellied lass carryin' a child?"
"Well, if that big-bellied lass happens to be a citizen of Great Britain, of course we'll come charging in with everything we got. But she happens to be French or Spanish or so on, well poo-poo for her! One less future soldier for our enemies, I say!" The Commodore smiled at that.
Someone handed him a spyglass. He extended it and saw a brig bearing the black flag, causing him to urinate himself at the thought of his own life being in danger which caused giggles from the crew still watching him, exchanging cannon-fire with the Spanish. On the brig, the blonde-haired Captain and his dark-skinned first mate noticed the HMS Lenny, and they waved at him before resuming the battle with the Spanish. The Commodore's heart skipped a beat and he gasped, out of breath and scared shitless by those evil heartless pirate monsters noticing him, and he stumbled backwards before collapsing over onto the deck.
"Ouchie!" Commodore Thornbeard cried as he rubbed his bottom, acquiring more mockery from his crew. Hearing this, his brows furrowed and he pouted before flying into another rage.
"CURSE ALL YOU IMBECILES! DO YOU NOT KNOW THE GRAVITY OF THIS SITUATION! THESE PIRATES WE SEEK, THEY HAVE POSSESS NONE OTHER THAN… ARMAMENTS OF TOTAL DEVASTATION! I have this knowledge on very good word from the territorial governor himself, even if no such physical evidence attests to their existence! But no matter! We must remove this pirate mastermind Spotted Dick's presence from the Caribbean right now, lest he thinks to use those armaments on us! Other empires, those inferior Spanish and French dogs, pursue this pirate scoundrel merely for his gold! But not us! We British are men of virtue! But if… um… if you, er… come across any gold while looking for these Armaments of Total Devastation, feel free to pick it up. Our Good King could do with a few more coins in his coffer!"
"That's total bullshite! Why nae jist come oot wi' it an' say ye just want th' dosh?" An irritated Scottish soldier piped up. Commodore Thornbeard looked as if he had been slapped across the face and then kneed in the wee willy.
"You… you dare to speak against me? This… is… insubordination!" Commodore Thornbeard roared. "Oh, I have so had it with you dim-headed nitwits! Thinking that you can rabble slander and lies behind my back! Well, no longer! Clap him in chains! I shall make an example out of you!"
"Weel, thees looks loch a slight bummer." The Scottish soldier said slightly perturbed as two officers reluctantly clapped his legs in chains.
"Um, what about the arms? Clap his arms as well!" Commodore Thornbeard ordered.
"Um, sir, we were only supplied with one set of irons." The quartermaster explained. "The Governor was quite insistent that we were not to go overboard with the resources."
"Ugh… fine. Free arms will matter not when you… WALK… THE… PLANK…" Commodore Thornbeard said before bursting into a riotous chorus of laughter.
"I'll see ye at th' bottom aye th' brine, Commodore!" The Scotsman, defiant to the end, spat as a plank was extended. Flintlock at his back, he was pushed to the edge before falling off. As the sound of water splashing was heard, the chuckling Commodore took a cup of tea and sipped it with quite some relish. He looked over the side of the ship to watch the Scotsman drown, but then he saw quite a horrific sight made him spit out his tea!
"Ha! I willnae forgit tae write, Commodore Cuntbeard!" The Scotsman laughed as he held onto the dolphin, streaking through the ocean water like a silver rocket. The dolphin squeaked, as if was joining in on the mockery.
"Bloody hell!" The Commodore looked like he was about to burst into tears. "He's getting away! He'll compromise the sanctity and secrecy of our mission!"
"Come to think of it, his beard does kinda make his mouth look like a cunt." Another soldier commented, sparking off several snickers.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up! This behavior is quite abhorrent for British soldiers! But we cannot let him get away! Fire everything we got at that deserter!"
At the Commodore's screeching insistence, the crew scrambled to work. Loading cannonball after cannonball, aiming swivel after swivel, the HMS Lenny unleashed its full firepower on the fleeing Scotsman and his newfound cetacean friend. Heavy shots that were like great balls of fire, mortars that sung of angry old gods conjuring thunder, the crew even begun flinging their whaling harpoons when the supplies of gunpowder ran dry.
As the smoke cleared, the Commodore's mouth dropped as he saw that the Scotsman had been unscathed. He continued to slip away on the dolphin, getting further and further out of sight. From far away, there were echoes of laughter and squeaking. However, the display of shock and awe by the HMS Lenny was not in vain. She had managed to sink something today… her escorting fleet.
"Blimey! Commodore Cuntbeard, you've sunk our bodyguards!"
"No, no, no, this can't be happening… it couldn't have been me, it must've been malicious sabotage by French agents…" He fell to his knees and his tear ducts broke. "And please don't call me that! It really hurts my feelings!"
"Do you hear thunder, Ade?" Edward asked as he barked orders to the crew, commanding them to brace, as he maneuvered the Jackdaw through another bridge of fiery shot from the Spanish frigate they had attacked.
"Captain, I can hear nothing above this cacophony!" Adewale managed to yell as he and Edward ducked in time for several blazing cannonballs to go over their heads.
"Blast! I knew I shouldn't have let myself get distracted by those British! We're in a damned jam here!" Edward cursed as the crew of the Jackdaw hastily loaded several rounds into the cannons. "Come on! Steady! Fire!"
As the cannons bombarded the side of the frigate, Adewale shouted to Edward. "Don't lose hope, Captain! The Spanish may possess more guns but they have no captain who can sail as well as you!"
As Adewale's words went through his ears, Edward saw that the cannons had hit chipped away at the frigate's sides. Some of their own cannons had been blasted back, opening gaping wounds in the frigate that exposed its interiors. Edward felt a twinkle grow in his eye as he spied stores of black gunpowder that looked like unguarded chests of treasure in the chaos of the battle.
"We've gotten their stores exposed! Fire the swivels and them flying sky high!" Edward shouted. They were sailing close enough that when the swivels fired upon the gunpowder stores and set them ablaze, they could hear the barrels explode and many a crew member was temporarily deafened left with ringing in their ears. Even saw a few Spaniards catch on fire and fall off deck or through the holes in the ship to plummet into a watery grave.
"The frigate's weakened!" The Jackdaw's gunner cried out. "The Spaniards are turning tail!"
"Hah! Ade, you were right! We sail in fortune's winds! Now after her!" Edward commanded, with the Jackdaw unleashing full sail. Propelled by the wind, the Jackdaw sliced through the water like a great white shark towards the limping frigate.
"Their sail seems weak, Captain. It may only take a few shots to cripple the Spanish for good!" Adewale advised, pointing at the mast of the Spanish frigate.
"Excellent idea, Ade. Where would I be without you?"
"Dangling at the end of a prison yard's rope, most likely." Adewale chuckled as the Jackdaw's crew loaded several chained shots into the front cannons before firing them at the frigate. True to Adewale's words, the crew cheered as the sails of the frigate collapsed before their eyes, stranding the Spanish ship place.
"To arms, men! Ready to board the vessel and strip her to the bone!" Edward ordered as he steered the Jackdaw's starboard side right up to the Spanish frigate. As soon as he did, the crew of the Jackdaw fired hooks that snagged into the wood of the Spanish frigate like mosquitoes drawing blood underneath a feverish sun. Dragging the Jackdaw close to the frigate, the crew began to scramble like monkeys on the ropes, advancing on the Spanish like wolves closing in on prey.
"Watch my back, Ade!" Edward said as Adewale took control of one of the Jackdaw's swivel guns, blasting away at the Spanish and their on-deck gunpowder stores. Edward vaulted over the wheel of the Jackdaw, running towards a lift. Slicing the rope, he propelled himself up. He eyed the chaotic deck of the frigate briefly with his special sight, catching eye of the Spanish captain.
"Gotcha!" Edward said. He then grabbed a rope and swung over into the heart of the fight.
"Mis pantalones están llenos de mierda!" The Spanish Captain managed to scream before Edward descended from the rope as it came over him and plunged the tips of his swords into the Spaniard's chest. He managed to gurgle out some blood before Edward planted the tips of each sword next to the man's head and with a mighty slash, cleaved through his head. As it rolled down the steps, it landed at the feet of a marksman desperately trying to hold off Edward's pirates. He looked at once and vomited all over it, before recovering.
"Él mató al capitán! Atrápalo!" The marksman shouted before he was blown to bloody bits by an exploding gunpowder barrel that one of Edward's pirates had lit.
Covered in the blood and guts of their marksman, several Spanish soldiers rushed up to confront Edward. The first to arrive was an officer who carried a knife in each hand, and rolled over Edward's shoulder, intending to hit him from behind. Just as he made the first slash, Edward raised a sword over his shoulder behind his neck, blocking the blades. With a quick motion of his other hand, he drove his sword through the officer's stomach.
"Estás muerto, pirata!" A tall and muscular soldier about seven feet in height flung a grenade at Edward's feet. Cursing, Edward rolled out of the way right before it went boom. But before Edward could recover, the giant swung a giant naval axe right at him. Raising his swords, Edward suddenly had one of those moments as the giant knocked them out of his hands and sent them flying over the railing into the ocean. There was a faint splash, and the giant laughed.
The giant continued to swing and chop at Edward, who managed to dodge each strike every time. But he was running out of room, and he would soon tire. He couldn't keep this up all day. So, as the giant swung at him with a high blow, Edward ducked and found himself in the position he desired. He swung his fist in an uppercut, hitting the giant's nether region.
"Ooooooog!" Was the only sound that came out of the giant as he collapsed. Edward lifted his boot as the giant squirmed on the ground, and brought it down with a stamp onto the giant's neck, snapping it.
"This is for my swords, you bull-humping pillocks!" Edward yelled as he took the giant's axe in hand. It was heavy and every swing felt like it would take his arms off with it, but Edward continued down the steps cleaving away at every Spanish soldier, staining the deck with blood, fallen intestines, and dismembered limbs.
Tiring of the heavy weapon, Edward managed to toss it at an officer who was about to kill one of his crew. The force of the axe sent the officer flying over deck after the blade hit him in the back and went bursting through his chest like a wooden ram.
Edward spied a sword lying on deck, not a breath away from its fallen previous owner. Edward dove for it, but just as he was about to grab it, a Spanish boot kicked it away from him. Edward rolled out of the way as a sword tip came thrusting downwards. Four Spaniards twirling their weapons in show surrounded him.
Edward was on them instantly. Smashing one's head into the ground, he whirled around and kicked another in the belly before forcing his arm upward and slitting the Spaniard's throat with his own sword. Then the last two decided they could play their luck for double, coming at Edward with their swords drawn back for stabs. Edward sidestepped backwards, causing the two Spaniards to run each other through. As the two frowned and looked down at the sight of their swords sticking out of each other's guts, Edward popped out his hidden blades and punched both of them full of holes.
Readying himself for more Spanish, Edward saw that instead many soldiers were backing away from him and kneeling down in surrender, with some hopping overboard to their deaths.
"Want some more? My crew and I can keep this up all night!" Edward barked at the Spanish, with one of his crew who could speak the language translating, making sure to magnify his presence as Hornigold once advised him. "But of course, if you don't desire to be sent home to your families in boxes with your bodies bloated by the brine and unrecognizable… I'm in a diplomatic mood today."
"Qué estás haciendo? No rendirse!" A voice interrupted. Edward turned his head and saw that a new enemy was emerging from deck. He was no ordinary Spanish soldier, Edward deduced as he glimpsed the fancy white and green coat he was wearing. He and his new adversary eyed one another, before the black-haired Spanish man smirked and broke the silence.
"Well now…" The Spaniard switched to heavily accented English. "What have we here? Another Assassin to send to their grave?"
"Me? An Assassin? No mate, this is just an early All Hallow's Eve costume."
"Your point is moot. You display skills close to their level. This will be a pleasure." The Spaniard snapped his fingers and a quivering soldier handed him his sword. The Spaniard tossed his sword at Edward, who caught it, eying him with some trepidation.
"Why the dirty look? We may be on opposite sides, but I am still a man of honor. I would never strike down a man unarmed with my art." The Spaniard motioned to his sword.
"You're out of your mind, mate." Edward sighed, trying not to laugh at how seriously the Spanish man seemed to be taking sword-fighting. The way he talked about it, calling it an art, it was almost like he slept with those swords and kept greasing materials nearby handy because of that.
"Out of my mind? No, it's you who's out of their mind here. A miserable pirate who thinks he can stand up to the Templars? Inform the Devil when he comes to meet you that Renardo Aguilar proved you wrong. Now, let us settle this like men of honor." The Spaniard made fancy whirling motions with his sword, demonstrating an impressive set of stylish and deadly looking sword slashes.
"Nice try, you bloody fop." Edward said as he tossed the sword he'd been given aside, and then pulled out all four of his pistols and fired shots into Renardo Aguilar. Renardo looked down his bleeding chest, before slumping down onto his knees. Edward walked over to him as he was gasping his last breaths. The Spaniard glared him with dying contempt, spitting blood onto Edward's boot. Edward casually wiped it off on one of the bound captive Spanish soldiers, as Renardo managed to choke out a few words.
"You… you… dishonorable canalla. The deepest circle of hell is reserved for bastardos such as you."
"Mate, I've got myself plenty of honor. Just is, you Templars got a different idea of it then I do. Rats like you who want to control everything, you're the ones without any real honor."
"No matter… you'll be dead soon."
"Is that so?"
"We were in pursuit… under orders of the Grand Master himself…" Renardo started breathing hard, sounding like his breath was being sucked out him and channeled through a broken organ. "Of a pirate of wicked legend… the scourge of a million dying men. The fleet of Richard Finn…"
"What a coincidence! So was I!"
"Then you… you… are… a greater fool than I thought. What chance does a loudmouthed king of nothing such as yourself have against a true legend? I'll… see… you.. in…" He collapsed forward before he could finish his sentence.
"We'll see about that." Edward said before turning his attention to the captive Spanish crew. "Alright now, the show's over! Now, who wishes to join me for a hectic but merry lifetime of riches and adventure? Shout aye, but if you'd rather swim all the way back to Havana, shout nay!"
Edward smiled as several of the Spanish began desperately shouting aye, like barking dogs before dinnertime. But there were a few who would die for the King, Edward saw to his disappointment. True to his word, his crew lifted the dissenters up and tossed them overboard. As an afterthought, he wondered if any of them could actually swim back to Havana. It was a long distance they'd gone…
"Oh, does anybody have two swords I can borrow? You won't be getting them back, by the way." Edward asked as he turned and started walking back to the Jackdaw. A nodding Spanish, greatly hoping to gain favor with his new master, shoved two fine looking swords into Edward's hands. Edward chuckled and clapped him on the back as he stepped back onto the Jackdaw's deck, leaving behind Renardo Aguilar and the rest of the dead to sink to the depths.
"What have you taken, Captain?" Adewale asked as they observed the crew loading the cargo looted from the frigate into the hold and repairing the damage the Jackdaw sustained during the fight.
"Plenty of heavy shot and mortar. Scrapped a couple pounds of metal and wood from 'em that might be useful in the future. Took some goods that we could sell for a nice sum when we return from this expedition."
"If we return, that is."
"Come on, Ade! We hang around plenty of pirates! All that nasty reputation stuff is just for show!" Edward laughed. "Now if you'll excuse me, there was a Templar on board that frigate. I took some papers from his course. I'll be in my cabin studying them to see if there's any new information."
The next day, Edward was steering the Jackdaw through a thick fog as the crew sang a song about wiping their wads of money on the deck to keep up their spirits. Squinting his eyes, he noticed something. Sticking out of the water like a knife embedded in a loaf of bread.
"Ade? What is that?"
"Hard to tell with all this fog mucking about, Captain. It looks like a…"
"Shit!" Edward shouted as he steered the Jackdaw to the left hastily, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ruins of a fleet. "I mean, ship. Jaysus! Look at the size of this mess!"
The sea was littered with floating hunks drifting about. The crew's song about loads of money teetered to an abrupt end. It looked like a hurricane had gone through the fleet. In the water, there floated plenty of dead men in blue uniforms clinging to soggy-wood rafts. Edward was never a lover of kings and empires, but he also wasn't one to leave someone stranded in the ocean. But he was too late to help the fallen here. He identified a flag floating in the water.
"What the hell were the Portuguese doing this far from home?" Edward asked as the Jackdaw sailed past more wrecked ships and floating debris.
"Perhaps they had the same idea we did. Only they ran into Richard Finn first."
"They're long gone, but it don't look like the skirmish happened all too long ago." Edward mused. "There might be a fresh trail…"
"There is, Captain. Just follow the sharks." Adewale said, pointing. Looking, Edward saw with a chill that there was a long red trail in the water with several silver fins like green plants in a white desert sticking out. "They know there's going to be plenty of food for them in the future, Edward. Pray we do not end up in their bellies."
"We won't, Ade. We won't…" Edward said as he noticed on the horizon, what looked like blurred smudges under the sun. He took out his spyglass and gasped at the magnitude of what he was witnessing.
It was the fleet of Spotted Dick.