Chapter 13 – Serpent's Tongue

"One is only valuable to the enemy until he has given them what they want."

'5th December 1778,

I am now in command of the French vessel 'Brise' and I hold some of her crew as prisoners, including their captain. There is no point in renaming the ship to something more suitable because I will be done with it as soon as I return to Port Royale, and Sir Parker will be assigning me with a much more sturdier vessel. As for my mission, I have the charts that I need however I lack the firepower and proper means to go randomly attacking Spanish outposts. I think Elizabeta and her Assassin's are expecting too much from me, they must remember that I take my orders from my commanders in the Royal Navy and that I am not simply a puppet to the Assassins…'

The former captain of the 'Brise' stood shacked in heavy chains, presented before Nelson in his very own cabin. Nelson sat in his comfortable desk chair sorting through the old captain's documents. Anything that he found interesting or important was locked away in a chest by his feet, easily protected. 'I must say,' Nelson spoke brashly to the captain, 'I like the decorating and the way you had this room set out. Although you are very unorganised for a man with such exquisite taste.'

'Go to hell.' The captain mumbled.

Nelson raised his head and stared directly at the man before him. 'Yes, perhaps I will go to hell. I would rather look forward to seeing you there first, or vice versa. You know how it is.'

The captain tilted his head, 'Why would I go to hell? I have done no true wrong. I am not an evil man.'

'Tell me captain, how many lives would you claim for the sake of your country or even your career? A hundred? A thousand? You and I are really not so different.'

'The lives that I claim are not merely for my country.' The captain argued. 'For centuries mankind has spilt blood for the reward of power. I seek to put an end to it.'

'So you are one of them, the Templars.' Nelson waited for the captain to give some kind of confirmation. 'I have been told about your order. You speak of saving the world by taking complete control of it. Tell me captain, what then is to stop you from abusing your power? A single man does not deserve to have the world at his feet. Soon enough this power that you fight for will be your undoing.'

The French captain spat on the floor and he raised his voice. 'And what makes you any better? Assassin!'

'You misunderstand. I am just a sailor carrying out orders. I know of the assassin's, yes. I fight for the assassin's, but I am not one of them.'

'So what is it that you really fight for?' The captain asked.

'I fight for freedom.' Nelson answered. 'If one man must die for many to be free then it is a price I am willing to take.'

Nelson realised that he was getting distracted. 'Now, to business then.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. The digital patterning glowed faintly as Nelson set the small object down in front of him on the desk. 'I have one of these, I need the others and I suspect that you know where one is.'

'Why should I help you?' Said the French captain. 'You have the key and so you can see the way to the others. That is how they work, is it not?'

'All I see are rocks and trees." Nelson said. "I know you have it. There are dozens of outposts and forts scattered all across the new world. The key could be at any of them.' Nelson took out the map he had found earlier and laid it out across the desk. 'You know where it is. Help me out and I can guarantee you your life. Ignore me and you will die, and I assure it will not be a quick death. I have come to terms on my fate with God, and if I must scar my conscience to get what I need then so be it. I know that you value your life, and that of your crew. I think I will start with them first.'

The French captain saw no lie in Nelson's expression and he eventually broke. 'Okay!' He begged. 'They are here.' The captain pointed to a spot on the map.

'Nicaragua.' Nelson said the location out loud. 'How do I know you're telling the truth?'

'You don't.' Said the French man. 'There is no way for you to know.'

Nelson accepted this. He had all of the information that he needed and so he dismissed the captain. 'Go join your men on deck.' And as the captain left the room he added, 'Just remember, I am a man of my word. Cooperate with me and you will live, fail to do so and you will die.'

Nelson stayed at his new desk until late afternoon when he decided to check up on his crew. He was confident in Collingwood to keep the ship on course and hold an eye over the prisoners. As he stepped out onto the quarterdeck he saw that all seemed well. Nelson rolled out his charts and with his new coxswain Anderson he jotted down the ships current coordinates.

'With strong winds and smooth sailing we should be back in Port Royale within three days, sir.'

Anderson was only young, or he looked it anyway. He was short and he always wore a red bandana over his muggy blonde hair. The boy was experienced and he took orders like any good sailor would. He was the kind of person that Nelson wanted in his future crew.

Nelson adjusted their course and ordered Anderson to take the wheel. The large wooden contraption creaked noisily as it turned on its spokes. Nelson then paced his way along the deck, which shone bright as the freshly cleaned wood reflected the falling sunset. The French prisoners cursed and swore as Collingwood put them to work. When there was nothing left to be done he had them swab the deck for good measure.

As the sun started to descend over the horizon Nelson figured that they had suffered enough and he ordered to have them shackled and locked away in the storage hold. He also did not want the French on the deck during the night, for even in shackles they were, as Collingwood would say; 'Slimy bastards.'

Nelson turned to James, who was best known for his skill and accuracy with a musket. 'See the prisoners to shackles and lock them up in the storage hold. Make sure that they are guarded, you can take shifts with Anderson if you like.'

James listened and watched with big blue eyes before responding. 'Yes sir.'

He moved over towards the prisoners then set about putting them all in chains.

James lifted the cuffs to one of the prisoner's waiting hands and then, like a cobra the man attacked. Before anyone could see it coming the prisoner swung his fist and it clashed into James' jaw. He then placed a hand on James' shoulder and threw him onto his back before wailing on him with clenched fists. Nelson and Elizabeta drew their pistols on the other prisoners to ensure that they did not follow their friends example and Collingwood rushed in with a wooded club and bashed the ravaging French prisoner in the small of his back. The man yelped and arched his back as the pain of the blow shot up his spine. Now James, bloodied and bruised, took the opportunity to kick the man off of his body and onto the cold wooden deck. He stood up and, using his sleeve, he wiped the blood from his busted lip.

James was a strong man, and he instantly recovered and helped Collingwood drag the prisoners into their cell.

Night had fallen however Nelson had decided to remain where he was up on the quarterdeck. The stars were bright and the soothing night-time breeze whispered softly over the ocean. Most of the rest of the crew stayed up with him, it seemed that no one could sleep that night. Nelson glanced over at Elizabeta, who sat on the step and stared up at the half-moon. Its light reflected off her blonde hair so that it glowed in the twilight.

After a while Nelson closed his eyes and in his mind there was the clear image of a river mouth. Upon each side of the river was a beautiful white beach, and beyond it laid the perilous jungle of what he assumed was the new world. On the left side of the river was a colourless boulder. It stood three meters high and was as white as the moon.

It was visions like this that kept Nelson from sleeping. He knew that they meant something but he could not figure out what it was. Fortunately after a while the power of the cool sea air and the gentle swaying of the ship was enough to put Nelson into a very deep slumber.