When Thomas came to, he found himself lying in a bed. He was on his back, with his left side facing a bulkhead, and his right faced the interior of what must be a ship's lower deck. His shoulder hurt, and it pained him to move his right arm. Despite that, Thomas managed to sit up, albeit with a good amount of effort. Looking at the wound on his shoulder, Thomas saw that it was neatly stitched closed. His jacket hung on a peg across from him, with his boots beneath it. With the jacket hung Thomas' sword belt. Secured to his belt were two swords: his own smallsword, and Captain Winston's personal saber.
Footsteps sounded nearby, heading towards him. Seconds later, a strange woman entered the room. She stood tall, had the figure of a dancer, and shining red hair, which she wore loose. Her face suggested that she was about the same age as Thomas. Around her neck hung four necklaces. Instead of a dress, this young woman wore men's clothing, complete with buckled shoes, green jacket, and sword belt. From her belt dangled both a pistol and a cutlass. Her striking blue eyes met Thomas' own green ones.
"Good, you're awake," she said with an Irish accent.
Thomas, taken by her beauty, felt himself at a loss for words. "Where am I?" He managed to ask.
"Aboard the good ship Jackdaw. You took quite a hit during our tangle with the Prince. Our surgeon Mr. King fixed you up right. What's your name?"
"Thomas McNally, midshipman."
"Greetings Thomas. I'm Anne. Anne Bonny. Please get dressed. The Captain will want to speak with you."
Thomas made an effort to stand up. As he did so, a sharp pain pierced through his injured shoulder. The former midshipman groaned with discomfort.
"If you're hurting, there's a bottle of rum beside your bed. Should numb the pain a wee bit."
Thomas followed Anne's advice and took a swig from the bottle. The taste was much stronger than he anticipated. This wasn't the watered-down grog common amongst the navy, but straight rum. And the ship's entire crew had access to this stuff? If there was one aspect of their lifestyle that pirates certainly lived up to, it was their affinity for liquor.
After corking the bottle, Thomas then pulled on his shirt, pants, boots, jacket, and sword belt while Anne looked on. His belt, now holding two blades instead of just one, felt alien to him, as if it belonged to another man. Surely he would grow used to it? One could only hope so. While Thomas may have looked like an officer of the Royal Navy, he sure didn't feel like an officer. In fact, he didn't even feel like much of a seaman. What was going through his mind? Doubt? Perhaps the captain of this ship could provide some answers.
"Alright ma'am," he said when finished dressing, "I'm ready to see Captain Kenway."
"Please, it's Anne," she instructed. "Follow me. Edward's up on deck."
Anne led Thomas through the Jackdaw's crew quarters. Inspecting the area, he noticed that this vessel appeared to have a huge amount of berthing for a ship her size. The crew must be at least twice the standard number. Thomas saw the advantages to having such a large crew. Having more sailors (or rather, pirates) aboard meant there was less work per man. Additionally, the crew would be able to take casualties in a pitched battle. If a man fell in combat, another man could replace him. On the other hand, a large crew might require the ship to make port more frequently, in order to take on additional rations. Such a necessity could prove easy to deal with here in the West Indies, where havens were often plentiful and close together.
The two ascended a ladder and emerged out on the Jackdaw's main deck. Thomas squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Looking around, he saw that the deck was filled with men. Some were working, others drinking, some tending to their personal arms, even some singing shanties. Thomas recognized "Randy Dandy Oh," which had been a favorite amongst the crew of the Prince.
Thomas followed Anne up the port side stairs leading to the quarterdeck. Sure enough, there was Captain Edward Kenway, standing at the helm of his Jackdaw, wearing the same robes as he had during the fight aboard the HMS Prince.
"Edward," Anne spoke up. "One of our new recruits here to speak with you."
"Thank you, Quartermaster," Kenway replied, looking at her. "That's all for now."
Anne took her place on Kenway's right side.
Kenway then looked at Thomas. "Right then," he said, still steering the vessel. "You're that midshipman who joined us during that fight with the British man o' war, correct?"
"Aye Captain," Thomas replied, a bit unsure of himself. "That was me. Where is the Prince? What happened to her crew?"
"The Prince, I'm afraid, sank. Those fires gutted most of the hull. Too much damage for a salvage effort. We used what timbers we could from her to repair the Jackdaw, then scuttled the old lady."
"What of the crew?"
"About a dozen of them, you included, joined us. A Lieutenant Cromwell also signed on. The survivors that refused to sail with us are off drifting in boats somewhere. Last we saw, they were making for Jamaica."
Thomas stood silent for a moment while a mixed emotion passed through his gut. While disappointed by the fate of the Prince's crew, he was not upset by the ship's sinking. Besides, after so many victories over the past four years, their luck was bound to run out. Perhaps Winston had grown cocky, forgetting that there was always someone tougher than him. It mattered little. Thomas knew that nothing could be done about the Prince now. What mattered now concerned Thomas and his work here aboard the Jackdaw.
"How did you end up in the King's Navy?" Kenway continued.
Thomas snapped back to the present. "My father's bidding," he answered. "He wanted me to live a more free life, away from the drudgery of farming. I enlisted, and ended up aboard the HMS Prince. Sailing suited me, but not naval discipline."
"It didn't suit me, either. Nor did the meager pay. I started off as a privateer, and now I'm a pirate. As is Anne, here, and now you. What's your name, lad?"
"Thomas, sir. Thomas McNally."
"Well Thomas, do you know how to navigate?"
"Aye sir. I learned the basics as a midshipman."
"Good. You might prove your worth after all."
Quartermaster Anne Bonny, who'd been quietly scanning the horizon during this exchange, spoke up again. "Edward, there's a ship off to port. A brig, by the looks of it." Anne examined the unknown ship again through a spyglass. "Looks like she has a starboard list."
"I see her," was Kenway's response. The Jackdaw altered course to port, towards the stricken vessel. Upon closer examination, Thomas saw that she was indeed a brig, flying Spanish colors, and listing heavily to starboard. There wasn't any strong wind to blow her over, nor there any signs of battle damage on her hull or rigging. What was causing her to take on water? Rot? Around the brig drifted two boats, both filled with men. The crew had already abandoned ship.
Kenway ordered the sails hove-to as the ship drew near the sinking brig. At the same time, one of the Spanish boats rowed up alongside the Jackdaw's port side midship. Kenway strolled over to meet the boat, and Thomas followed.
Kenway leaned over the rail and stared down into the boat. "What happened here?" He asked.
A portly man, middle-aged and wearing the yellow uniform of a Spanish military officer, stood up. "We don't know," He answered in slow, broken English. "Just three hours ago, we were chasing down an English merchantman. Then we started taking on water, and gave up the pursuit. We found a dozen leaks, but not all of them. Sadly the good ship Lanfranco is now lost to us."
"Where was this merchantman heading?"
"South, towards Jamaica."
"Thanks, mate. Good luck." Kenway turned to leave.
"Wait!" The Spanish officer shouted. "Are you going to allow us aboard?"
"I doubt you'll want to sail with us, mate."
"And why is that?"
"We're pirates," Thomas informed him.
The officer paused a moment, looking at his crew. "Very well," he finally said, returning his gaze to Kenway. "Be on your way."
Leaving behind the sinking Lanfranco, the Jackdaw made sail and set a southerly course in pursuit of the English merchant vessel. If the Spanish had been pursuing her, Thomas reasoned, then she must be traveling with a hold filled with cargo. There was nothing to gain by capturing an empty vessel, other than the ship itself. Going for a loaded vessel yielded a ship, crew, and cargo: a much more valuable haul. An hour later Thomas, standing near the bowsprit, spotted someone bobbing in the waves.
"Man overboard!" He called aft. "Starboard bow!"
Upon hearing this, Kenway ordered the sails hove-to, and the ship's whaleboat made ready. Thomas accompanied Kenway in the boat, while the former Lt. Cromwell and three others manned the oars. Together Kenway and Thomas hauled the stranded man, who'd survived by clinging to a piece of driftwood, into the boat. What they found surprised them all. The man overboard was not a man at all, but a boy. By the looks of him, the lad couldn't be more than nine, ten, or eleven years old. He was short in height, had a full head of black hair, and wore a brown shirt with matching trousers. The boy was exhausted, breathing heavily, and his skin had shriveled. Clearly he'd been in the water a long time.
"We need to give this boy some rest, Captain" Thomas advised.
"Agreed. Bring us back to the Jackdaw, lads."
While the boat returned to its mother ship, the young boy attempted to speak. "That... bastard..." he managed to say in a near whisper.
Thomas heard him. "What was that?" he asked. The boy didn't speak again.
Upon returning to the Jackdaw, Thomas took the boy below, lied him down in his own bed, and gave him bread and water. After a brief nap, the child readily ate the bread biscuits and drank the water while Thomas sat down beside him. Satisfied that the boy was nourished, Thomas decided to attempt conversation with him.
"What's you name, lad?" Thomas asked.
"Patrick," the boy replied, looking at Thomas. "My name is Patrick. I am, or at least was, the cabin boy of the schooner Golden Vanity."
"Pleased to meet you, Patrick. I'm Thomas."
Golden Vanity? The name was in English. The Spanish brig Lanfranco had been pursuing an English merchant vessel. "Was your ship a merchantman?" Thomas continued. "An English one?"
"Yes, she was."
"And if you were her loyal cabin boy, how did you end up adrift?"
Patrick cleared his throat. "That sir, is quite a story. For days, a Spanish brig had been chasing us. She had lots of cannons. We couldn't hope to beat her in a fight. Our captain, James Ericson, offered his daughter's hand in marriage to any man who could sink the enemy ship."
"And you took his offer?"
"Aye sir. I swam out to that ship, and drilled twenty holes in her side." Patrick pulled an auger from his belt and showed it to Thomas.
An auger? This lad sank a Spanish warship with just a damn auger?! Thomas let out a hearty laugh. "I can't believe you sank an entire ship with just a goddamn carpenter's tool!" Thomas remarked.
"Nor I," Patrick admitted.
"We encountered the brig that was pursuing your schooner. Lanfranco was her name. When we left her, she was sliding beneath the waves. But if you succeeded, why aren't you back aboard the Vanity, awaiting to meet your future bride?"
"When the Spaniard started sinking, the Vanity set full sail and fled."
That sounded rotten. "So they left you for dead?"
"Aye, sir. So it would seem. I want Ericson to get what he deserves."
Just then, Captain Kenway entered the cabin. "Everything alright here?" he asked.
"Aye sir," Thomas answered, standing up to face him. "Our castaway has a story that you must hear."
Following a brief introduction, Patrick recited his story to the attentive Edward Kenway. Predictably, the pirate captain laughed upon hearing of Patrick's feat with the auger. Thomas informed Edward that the foundering Spanish brig they'd encountered was the same ship that Patrick sabotaged. Edward remembered that even the Lanfranco's crew didn't know why their ship was taking on water. Drilling through the hull with an auger was indeed possible, if a bit impractical. Kenway then questioned Patrick about the Golden Vanity. Hull color, sail arrangement, last known heading... any information that could be used to identify the schooner. Satisfied with the information Patrick had provided, Kenway then turned his attention to Thomas.
"Thomas," he commanded, "you and Mr. Cromwell take the next watch. We're looking for a schooner flying English colors. She has a blue hull, white sails, gold rails, and was last seen sailing South. Keep a lookout for her, and send for me if you find her."
"Aye aye, Captain. It shall be done."
Thomas and former Lieutenant John Cromwell stood the twelve-to-four watch on the Jackdaw's quarterdeck. John took the helm while Thomas kept a lookout for the Vanity. If what Patrick said was true, and the Vanity's captain indeed abandoned, him, than Thomas sympathized with the cabin boy. Like Patrick, he wanted to see justice done. Meanwhile John, who had never before steered a ship, struggled to keep the Jackdaw on a steady heading. At times he was off course by as much as ten degrees, and Thomas kept needing to correct him. After two hours of watchstanding, Thomas finally spotted sails on the horizon ahead of the ship. He raised a spyglass and focused them. She was indeed a schooner, and matched Patrick's description.
"John," Thomas said to his helmsman. "I believe we have found her. Please rouse Mr. Kenway. I'll take the helm."
Thomas took the wheel while John fetched the Captain. Ten seconds later, they both joined him on the quarterdeck, along with Patrick.
Kenway took the spyglass and examined the schooner himself. She was a small vessel, no more than one hundred feet in length. Her rigging carried two lateen sails, a jib, and one square topsail. "Aye, that's her," Kenway said. "Ripe for the taking." He turned to face Thomas, lowering the spyglass. "Mr. McNally, tell us; how does one ship take another as a prize?"
Thomas thought for a moment. "First," he began, "we raise our colors, displaying our hostility. If the target doesn't heave-to, we fire warning shots from the forward chasers."
"And if they still won't comply...?"
"We get within hailing distance and demand their surrender. Finally, if they remain stubborn, we engage in combat, provided they didn't already attack us."
"Well said," Kenway remarked. "Patrick, come with me."
Kenway walked off the quaterdeck and stood atop one of the eleven cannons on the port side of the main deck. Patrick stood beside him. "Listen up, me trumps," he called out to his shipmates, who all turned to face him. "Ahead of us is a schooner whose captain left this lad..." He pointed at Patrick. "...to die, after he risked his life protecting his mates. Are we going to allow such a backstabber to walk away?!"
"No!" the crew shouted back.
"All in favor of taking that schooner, shout 'aye!'"
"AYE!"
"To your posts! Prepare for a raid!"
While the crew readied themselves and their ship for action, Kenway and Patrick returned to the quarterdeck. Anne, hearing the commotion, joined them. Thomas remained at the helm, while John manned the swivel gun on the quarterdeck's port side.
"Bring us in close, Thomas," Kenway ordered.
The Jackdaw was now directly behind the Vanity, about two hundred yards off, and closing the distance fast. Already she was within range of the Jackdaw's forward cannons (chaser guns). Despite the Jackdaw's black flag being clearly visible, the schooner remain at full sail. Kenway noticed these facts, and acted. He ordered the chaser gun crews to load chainshot. Chainshot - two cannonballs joined by a chain - was extremely effective at crippling a ships rigging, making it the ideal tool for reeling in a prize.
"Fire chasers!" Kenway barked.
The four chaser guns let fly, belching smoke and steel. Two splashes shot up near the Vanity's hull, indicating misses. A wide gash appeared in the schooner's mainsail, having been torn apart by a lucky chainshot hit. Immediately her speed began to dwindle. On deck, her crew prepared for the worst by readying weapons and saying silent prayers. The pirates would surely catch them now.
The Jackdaw, under Thomas' careful steeing, maneuvered alongside the Vanity, leaving the schooner to her own port side. Knowing that death was upon them, the Vanity's crew exchanged musket and pistol fire with the pirates, making a last-ditch effort to defend themselves. Both crews screamed in defiance at each other. A booming noise sounded to Thomas' left. John had fired his swivel cannon and now hastily reloaded the weapon.
"Drag them to their doom!" Kenway ordered, his voice filled with bravado.
The pirates heaved the grappling lines over the schooner and dragged the two vessels together, close as lovers. Crewmen on the Vanity hacked away at the grapples with cutlasses and boarding axes, but to no avail. By the time even one grapple fell loose, the Jackdaw's pirate crew was already leaping aboard. Thomas, dismissed from the helm, joined in the wave of men storming the Vanity. He jumped from the quarterdeck and landed heavily on the schooner's main deck, just aft of her wheel. The schooner's helmsman released the wheel, drew an ax, and faced Thomas. Rising to his feet, Thomas drew his two blades - keeping the smallsword in his left and the saber in his right - and slashed the man across the chest before he could lower his weapon. Another sailor charged Thomas, with a cutlass readied and fury in his eyes. Thomas simultaneously blocked the cutlass and dropkicked the man, who fell hard on his back.
As Thomas raised his swords to deliver a killing blow, the sailor's expression turned from rage to terror. The man threw up his arms.
"Surrender!" He cried desperately.
Thomas froze mid-swing. Around them, the schooner's remaining crew all laid down their arms. The fight was over. The Golden Vanity now belonged to the pirates.
After sheathing his weapons, the young pirate assisted his former opponent to his feet. The sailor wore a dark green jacket with a white ruffled shirt and tri-cornered hat, suggesting he held a position of importance. Could this man be the Captain? Not likely. The man's neatly shaven face hinted that he was only a couple of years older than Thomas.
"Thank you for sparing me," said the man, shaking Thomas' hand. He spoke English with a hint of Italian in his speech. "What's your name?"
"Thomas," the pirate responded. "And you are...?"
"Aldo Gaiani."
"Pleasure to meet you, Aldo."
The pirates were now rounding up the surviving sailors, putting them on their knees in a cluster amidships. Thomas advised Aldo to join them, which he did.
Captain Kenway stepped onto the schooner's deck, with Patrick right beside him. The two strode right up to the captured sailors. "Gentlemen," He addressed the captives, "Do not be alarmed. I am Captain Kenway, and this is my crew. During our travels we picked up this young lad who, by his account, sank a Spanish brig that threatened your ship. Then was left for dead. Where is your Captain?"
"The Captain is dead," one sailor spoke up. He pointed at Thomas. "That man killed him."
The helmsman, Thomas thought. Captain Ericson was manning the helm.
Kenway turned his head towards Thomas. "Did you kill him, Thomas?"
"Aye sir. He was at the wheel when I found him."
"Good. One less problem, then. Now my friend, what shall we do with this ship and her crew?"
Thomas assessed their options. They could scuttle the ship, or add her to a fleet. Keeping it seemed the more sensible option. He'd choose that, if Kenway allowed it. What about the crew? Killing them, while an option, was senseless. They'd gain nothing by slaughtering captives. Recruit them? Yes! That made sense. Any who refused to join could be set ashore later. As for the cargo... the Jackdaw would take it.
"We'll plunder the cargo," Thomas replied, "recruit as many of this vessel's crew as we can, and keep the ship."
"Agreed. Well lads, get to work. Thomas, you will take command of this vessel. Put the captives ashore, then sail to the harbor at Great Inagua. Take John Cromwell as your Quartermaster."
"Aye aye, Captain."
The pirates opened the Vanity's cargo hatches and started transferring the cargo over to the Jackdaw. Several of the schooner's old crew joined in, having decided to sail under the black flag. Kenway ordered those who did not join the pirates locked below in the Vanity's forepeak, to keep them from interfering with the operation. Among the men who joined the pirates was Aldo Gaiani. He approached Thomas with a look of uncertainty on his face.
"So that's it, Thomas?" Aldo asked. "We're now pirates?"
Thomas paused, reflecting on his experience thus far. In less than two days, he'd survived an encounter with Edward Kenway, deserted from the Royal Navy, saved a little boy's life, and gained his first command. A fine piece of work, by any standards. Above all, Thomas felt proud of his new life. And why shouldn't he?
"Yes, Aldo" Thomas replied, smiling up at the Jackdaw's black flag. "We are pirates."