"Utter, bloody bollocks." Edward sighed and muttered to himself, as he motioned for the barmaid. Back to where all this lunacy had begun. In Nassau drinking away, hardly any richer than the day he was before. The Assassins had paid him, yes, but only half of what they had promised. Blast it, factoring in the money spent recruiting men to replace the crew he lost, as well as the rate that he was drinking he'd seen be back at the level of wealth he'd been before this damned Spotted Dick business.
No, at this rate, he'd be poorer! Back to scrambling about, searching for goddamned Sages and Observatories, while everyone skeptically gaped at him.
"I'm sorry, we haven't a bottle of that." Anne Bonny smiled at him, like a mother pitying her child. "What's hangin' over you, Captain?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Edward grumbled as she passed him a bottle of rum. Edward uncorked it, and started chugging.
"That business with Spotted Dick, aye?" Anne continued to inquire. Edward swore, she'd left that part of her blouse loosened on purpose as she leaned in. His head starting to reel a bit from all he was drinking, he found himself nodding downwards. His gaze fixed.
"Richard Finn? Aye, 'twas a furious bloody mess I got my crew into. All for the promise of the plundering of a lifetime." Edward played with the bottle in his hands, listening to the remaining rum slosh about. Somewhere else in the tavern, Calico Jack moaned as he rested in a puddle of his own vomit.
Anne raised her left eyebrow somewhat teasingly.
"You sailed into battle against the fearsome Spotted Dick, and lived to tell the tale? An achievement, the first o' its kind, to yer credit."
"What use is a damn achievement when I've the sorriest haul to show for it?" Edward grumbled again, and took a sip. "But aye, call it an achievement if you wish. Charles Vane and his lap-dog Jacky were there too."
"I heard that damn insult! Kenway, you berk, I'll… I'll…" Calico Jack yelled from where he lay, and struggled to think of something really threatening to say.
"You'll just shut your sodding trap! Before I come and do it for you, and take your front teeth as my tax!" Edward snapped at Calico Jack. "And you, Vane, you ought to house-train your mongrel one of these days!"
Charles Vane, sitting across from Edward, hiccupped and looked none too pleased at Edward's suggestion.
"I'm a man that can do many things. But not even I can make the impossible possible." Vane replied.
"I don't care! Jack was on your ship in that boiling mess of a sea! If he hadn't-"
Vane cut him off.
"Fuck's sake, Edward, you're still pissed about that business? It's been an eternity!"
"Business you ruined, mate! By sticking your ugly face into, Charlie!"
"And what gave you the exclusivity to pursue that fortune? No entrepreneur got where he was by taking his turn last!" Vane spat onto the floor. Vane was quite bitter. A spot of foolishness on deck where Rackham had once again tried to procure the map he thought was his had resulted in the loss of the location of Finn's supposed treasure island, forcing them to pursue the fleet in hope of riches. "Blast, if we hadn't lost that map to the sea-winds..."
"Stop using bloody words you probably don't even know how to spell!" Edward certainly had no pity for his fellow pirate at this moment.
Vane hissed through his teeth and took a glug of his rum.
"Piss off back to your Jackdaw, Ed. You're drunk."
"So are you! Fuck off!"
Edward and Vane threw their bottles at each other. The rum bottles collided in mid-air and shattered, raining rum and shards onto Calico Jack. As Jack began to kick his legs and shriek like a banshee, Edward and Charles Vane glanced briefly at each other then the mess on the floor and at each other again.
Both parties decided that perhaps some matters of pride were best left unsettled and decided to try hard not to think about the other for the next two hours.
"Care to tell this poor Irish lass the tale? I've naught to aspire to but dreams of adventure on the high seas." Anne continued to pry. "I'll give yeh a drink, on the house."
"Dreams? Adventure?" Edward forced a chuckle. "This was more like a nightmare."
"This ought to be interestin'." Anne crossed her legs, ignoring her boss' shouts to get back to work and gave him a mocking salute.
"Well, the lads and I had pursued Spotted Dick for a time. Got into a few skirmishes along the way, but nothing we couldn't handle. Then we came along the wreckage. Newly-made graveyards, sinkin' to the ocean's bottom. Restin' among the devils, they all are. Can't see anyone who chased Spotted Dick risin' to the heavens. Chillin' sight, to think of all the men who died. Not the ones who'd been killed in the fightin', but those who'd survived, only to drown or be taken by the sharks."
"As a lass with quite a few romantic 'escapades' notched onto 'er belt, I can't quite agree that less rivals for the prize is much of a sad notion. Competition is fun, I suppose, but only when yeh know yeh can be the only winner."
"Pirates, King's men, all reduced to nothing at the end. Drownin' in the same stew of shite, I suppose. Wasn't long before we came across the fleet."
"Ooh, the best part!" Anne snarked.
"You ever see a royal naval convoy? A man o'war?" Edward asked and she nodded. "Well, whatever you saw was nothin' but a trail of ants compared to what Dick had."
Edward continued.
"Didn't have long to catch our breaths from the shock of seein' how massive the fleet was, before the alarm was sounded. Spotted Dick wasn't much for diplomacy. Unless you consider mortar fire a diplomatic greeting. And just our luck, we weren't alone."
"Oh, you mean Charlie over there?" Edward looked back at Vane who gave him a rather rude finger gesture.
"Not just him and his cargo of pillocks. All manner of ship an' vessel were comin' out of the mist, all gunnin' for Spotted Dick." Edward held his brow with his palm for a moment. "Not just the usual prats from 'round these parts. There were Florentines, minstrels from the look of it, in some devilish sailboat! I swore, they were coordinating their sailors with lutes and drums! Even a ship of Orientals, clad from head to toe in black and screaming devilish gibberish as they sailed into battle! Everyone must've heard about Spotted Dick and wanted his treasure. Everyone! Christ, sometimes I don't know if I didn't just dream the whole bloody battle."
"Yeh're definitely pullin' me leg with some o' this prattle, Kenway." Anne teased. "You must think me mad! As if Orientals would sail this far for pirate treasure!"
"Mad? That's what we were. A maelstrom of madmen, led by nothing but our own damn greed and ambition. None of us were very inclined to share with one another. It was a bloody race… or more truthful, an absolute fucking mess."
"Well, even if yer lyin', at least make it an entertainin' lie."
"I can't remember very much about the battle. Bullets and cannons were coming from everywhere, it seemed. We were firing at just about everyone. I was doin' my best to keep a cool head, rally the men's spirits. But I won't lie and say that I didn't shiver. Eventually managed to board the Geoduck, however. I was plannin' to make it quick. A descent from above on a rope swing, take out Spotted Dick from the air. Then magnify my presence, perhaps while holdin' Spotted Dick's loose head for dramatic effect."
"Didn't go according to plan, eh?" Anne feigned sympathy.
"Thanks to that reckless orangutan who had the same fucking idea! Only without an ounce of my grace or talent!" Edward pointed his finger, cursing at Calico Jack who whimpered. "We collided while swinging. He swatted me off course before taking a swim. How the sharks didn't get him, I have no clue. Perhaps his stench deterred 'em."
Anne gazed at the flies that were swarming around Jack. "Yeh're probably right on that count."
Edward took another long drink of rum.
"As for me, I landed neck deep in angry pirates. The deck of the Geoduck became swarmed with foe as the other ships caught up and began to board. I slashed my way across in a steel frenzy, trying to find Spotted Dick. And then I saw him. A pock-marked face you'd never want to meet on a dark night. Killin' anyone who dared raise steel against him with hardly a sweat. Like he was just stompin' roaches. He fought unorthodox, like no man I'd ever seen before or since."
"How so?"
"Well, instead of usin' his hands to handle his sword, he had some manner of bizarre contraption strapped to his bollocks. A sword was attached to it, and he thrust and shook his hips to swing and stab it about."
Anne blinked. Confused and skeptical.
"Aye, I could hardly believe it myself. All the while, the bastard was yellin' about respect for his doomcocke or somethin' about this lines. One of the Florentines charged up to him, with a bladed lute, and got skewered for his brashness. Nobody who tried to match blades with 'im proved Dick's better."
"So how'd you survive?" Anne yawned.
"I shot him."
"That's it?"
"Aye. Can't believe no one thought of it earlier. But I suppose that us men can't resist…" Edward pondered his choice of words. "Eh, never mind. Sod what I was about to say."
"What became of Captain Finn's treasure, then?"
Edward sighed, remembering the disappointment just as he had tasted it on that day.
"After everyone else had crawled off to lick their wounds, or was dead, we made our way below deck once we finished securing the ship. But the cargo holds… empty as a mother's womb after birth."
"Not even a poor penny, a single breadcrumb to be found?"
"No, lass, not even a single sliver of pittance."
"Where do you suppose his treasure went?"
"Hell if I know." Edward cursed. "Spotted Dick couldn't have built that fleet from nothing. But we scuttled every last spot and not a single coin to be found. Maybe he'd already squandered it all, perhaps by gambling and we found him too late. Maybe there never even was a treasure to begin with, just a crock of rumored shite that became more like truth every time Dick's story was told. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd banked his treasure somewhere mortal men would never reach."
Edward finished the last of his rum. Then he continued.
"I'd lost some fine crew members in the battle. And the discovery meant they died for nothing. A fool's fucking errand that only wasted our supplies and time. We decided to sail to San Juan to regain our bearings. It was the closest port to where we'd ended up following the fight, that we knew of. Along the way, we came across the last of our sorry and curious sights. A wretched vessel adrift, captained by some English cunt whose beard made his mouth look quite a bit like a cunt. His crew was nowhere to be seen. Mutinied, I suppose. Cuntbeard was nothin' more than a sad raver, at this point. He yelled at us, swore that he would see us bloody pirates hang from cages and the rope. That the British Empire would never be defeated by us, they would only experience alternative victories."
"What happened to Cuntbeard?"
"Beats me." Edward mused. "We didn't pick him up, or fire upon him. Wasn't in the right sort of mood, to suffer fools like him. We just let him be, a madman drifting under a hot sun in a blue sea. Whatever ending you make up for him is bound to be happier than whatever he really got. And so, eventually, here we are. Just me telling you the story of what happened. Drinking to try to forget it."
Anne passed him a fresh bottle.
"Well, if it 'elps. You didn't utterly bore this lass, if nothin' else." Anne waved as she rose from her seat and walked away.
When he'd returned to the Assassins to report his "success" Mary had given him her sympathies. "We don't always draw the lucky card, Kenway. We make due with what we get. Learn to live with it. And better ourselves." Ah Tabai had said something along the lines of "You did as well as I expect, which is to say not very well at all."
How many drinks had it been now? He'd lost count.
"What's the next course of action, Captain?" Adewale's voice stirred him from his contemplation. "Don't plan on just drinking and chatting up the women forever, do you now?" Edward looked up at his first mate.
"Back to more hunts for riches and glory, what else? Adventure in pursuit of mysteries. Even after this utter disaster we've recently experienced, I thirst to set sail once more. Spotted Dick left us wanting, but I have a feeling that this Observatory just might turn our luck around yet. Then we can finally start living. Christ, Ade, I guess I will never learn." Edward laughed and laughed and then uncorked his bottle for another drink.
"Here... here... b-beeee pyrates..." Thornbeard sobbed as the violent shaking ended, the remains of the HMS Lenny ground to a halt upon the shore of the island. "...an' an' tygers tooo..."
Thornbeard hadn't been having the best of luck in recent months. He'd lorded over his crew like some Dark Ages tyrant. It seemed a good idea at first, to exert his authority and he'd assumed that this show of strength would quell their disrespect. The crew had begged to differ. In a turn of events that baffled Commodore Thornbeard, everyone had mutinied. Turned upon him! What had he done, besides whip them, steal their pay, and insult their mothers? They'd absconded with all the weaponry, boats, and the good food.
The mold, the rocks, the rats, and seawater that he'd subsisted on were driving him mad. Maybe this island was his last hope. Or his final resting place.
Commodore Thornbeard flopped onto the wet sand, spitting out mouthfuls as he struggled upwards.
Nothing before him but the jungle. Thornbeard staggered forward. He would not end like this. He was not some conscripted nobody! No, he was Commodore Alvin Prince Thornbeard, estimable agent of the Empire! He knew he had to be special, he had prince as his middle name after all. Thornbeard knew that this was not the end. He was return, and enact swift vengeance upon those damned pirates and deserters.
"Meow."
"What the?" Thornbeard whipped his head around. The jaguar starred at him, curious. It licked its paw, tail flicking like a painter's brush.
"Shiiiiiiiiiiite!" Thornbeard shrieked and before he knew it he was running. Without a clue as to where he was going. He didn't even realize that the jaguar had chosen not to pursue him, seeing as he looked like a rather unappetizing shite-bush with how unkempt his beard had become since the mutiny.
"Aaaaaaagh!" He suddenly went. It was pitch-black, where he'd ended up. He turned around, seeing a faint crack of light the way he'd come. The smart thing should've been to go back that way, but Thornbeard was still quite perturbed by his run in with the wildlife. So he resigned himself to stumbling around like a blind-man, hoping to find something that would get him to safer ground. A pity there was no Messiah waltzing around to grant sight to the blind on this island.
He stumbled, tripped, and rolled downwards like a runaway barrel. Smoooplfffh! That was the sound he made as he collided into a pile of something metallic.
"Huh?" In the distance, there was a golden glow. Something round. That could fit into the palm of a man's hand. He crawled towards it on his belly like the damned snake. Underneath him, what was underneath?
"What is this?" Thornbeard muttered as he grabbed the sphere. His belly growled. His eyes watered, and a brief moment, it reminded him of an apple. Of food. Where the hell was he, Thornbeard thought. What was all this? Who'd accumulated all this wealth, as through the sphere's light he saw scattered all around him immeasurable wealth. Gold upon gold, jewels upon jewels.
"Hahahahahahahahahaha! Take that you arrogant cunt Governor Rogers! All you fools who thought I'd never amount to anything! How foolish do you feel now, Daddy? Wish you hadn't abandoned daft Commodore Cuntbeard now have you?" Thornbeard cackled. He'd done it. He'd found the legendary treasure of Pyrate Richard Finn, the notorious Spotted Dick.
Now, how the hell was he supposed to get back to civilization? To reap the accolades and bounty that were so rightfully his? His stomach grumbled. Thornbeard supposed that he might as well get something to eat while he figured it out.
"Hmm... if it looks like an apple, maybe it is an apple." Thornbeard mused some deliriously, looking at the sphere in his hands. Maybe a new kind of cultivar that hadn't quite caught on yet in the Western world. Well, Commodore Thornbeard thought as he opened his jaw to take a bite out of this strange apple, what was the worst that could happen?