The two ships rocked together on the relatively calm ocean, the hulls of each ship bumping together as the sea rolled gently. The crew of the unnamed ship lined their upper deck, eyes on the enemy and swords and pistols raised in the air but not a word was being spoken. The crew of the Privateer similarly lined up on their own ship, swords and pistols raised, but their eyes were firmly on the captain daring him to order the first move.
The fair maiden looked at her love, the good captain, and he in turn was staring directly at the captain of the other ship who was staring back at him. The look in the good captain’s eyes was not one of fear, it was one of determination.
“What is it my dear?” she asked in a low whisper that only the captain could hear. She knew it wasn’t a good time to interrupt the good captain’s thoughts but she needed to know what they were facing.
“Go on, be tellin’ her th’ truth ye scurvy young bastard.” The captain of the second ship called from his own navigation deck.
The entire crew of the Privateer remained unmoving, waiting for the order to fight and not letting anything interrupt that. The fair maiden on the other hand looked directly across to the second ship in astonishment. “How had he heard her whispered question from so far away?” she wondered, but dare not ask. She turned to her good captain wanting answers but letting him instigate any conversation, he was still starring directing at the other captain.
“’Tis rotten excuse fer a human bein’ me dear be none other than Cap’n Morgan.” The good captain said loud enough for all to hear.
The tension aboard both ships was thick enough to cut with a sword but the tension on the navigation deck of the Privateer was even thicker as the good maiden looked at her good captain not believing what he just said.
“I ain’t explain how it be so, but it be. ‘Tis be th’ lowlife Morgan. Not suited to be a cap’n ‘o a sea shell let alone a ship.” The good captain replied.
“Ye speak a big battle wee scurvy pirate, but last time it took all th’ crew to send me down to Davy Jones, one heroic Cap’n against th’ entire ship’s crew.” Captain Morgan spoke clearly but with rage in his voice. “How do ye think ye shall fair against an entire crew whose only desire be to revenge me death?”
There was a huge roar from the decks of the Privateer as more than 200 crew men expressed their disagreement with what Captain Morgan was saying.
“We beat ye once, what makes ye think we can’t beat ye again, even wit’ ye crew ‘o dodgy land lubbers?” the good captain called.
The rage in Captain Morgan’s face was obvious. “Beat me? I reckon we both be knowin’ I wasn’t beaten, it was mutiny, nothin’ more nothin’ less!” He paused as if wating for the good captain’s response, when none came he continued, “A spineless act ‘o mutiny against th’ cap’n who took ye under his win’, gave ye a chance ‘n taught ye everythin’ I know!”
“Well if ye taught me everythin’ ye know then ‘tis isn’t goin’ to be a fair fight!”
The crew of the Privateer laughed loudly while the crew of the second ship stood dead still awaiting orders.
“So put ye doubloons whar ye mouth be ye scurvy bastard!”
“Or ye could come ‘n get them.”
Captain Morgan began laughing, it was loud belly aching laughter, belly aching enough to have him double over holding his mid drift. The good captain and his crew stood watching, it was their turn to remain silent as they watched Morgan laugh. Captain Morgan’s laughter lasted for nearly three minutes yet no one else joined in, not even his own crew.
When he finally stopped laughing he stood up and said, “Ye make me hoot and hollar Cap’n Nobeard, but as entertainin’ as ye be ye seem to have forgotten one thin’.”
“Maybe ye can enlighten us to what it be I have forgotten.”
It was the good captain’s turn to laugh this time and within second of him starting the laughter started to spread around the ship until every one of the crew, including the fair maiden, were laughing heartily.
Rather than reply to Captain Morgan the good captain instead called his crew to order and asked them one question in his loudest voice. “Well me crew, what do ye shout to ’tis waste ‘o space cap’n, do we accept his challenge?”
In a show of solidarity and unison every one of the crew raised their swords into the air and screamed at the top of their lungs, “DEATH BEFORE THE MAST!” and with that the battle was on.
The crew of the Privateer immediately boarded the second ship, despite the belly aching and screaming that had gone on since the two ships came together the crew of the second ship were taken by surprise at the ambush. Captain Morgan screamed at his crew to start fighting but for some of them it was too late.
The well trained crew of the Privateer had learnt a lot since the days when Captain Morgan had led them and their skills at boarding a well manned ship with the prime goal of taking it over were exemplary. Under the good captain they hadn’t just learnt to board the ship, they’d learnt to board it with swords drawn and ready to strike, something Captain Morgan was never able to teach them.
Crew of the Privateer bounded onto the second ship, screaming ‘Death before the mast’ as swords clanged together. Within seconds of the fight starting the deck of the second ship was swarming with bodies, ducking, weaving, side stepping and falling. Where the fighting got too close hand to hand combat took over, fists pummelling into skulls and bodies before swords were eventually used to remove the final breath.
It took less than ten minutes for the crew of two hundred men to take the second ship and they did so without any casualties. There was a few superficial wounds between them but the good captain’s crew had not just wiped out the enemy they’d wiped them out with almost no damage to themselves.
Standing next to his fair maiden the good captain had a huge smile on his face as he looked down to his crew aboard the second boat standing among a pile of dead bodies and severed limbs. He then looked up to the navigation deck and saw a stunned and shocked Captain Morgan obviously not able to figure out how his crew had been wiped out so quickly and without even taking a life of their enemy.
The Privateer’s second mate, who was standing directly below the navigation deck where Captain Morgan stood, raised his sword and called out. “Death to th’ Cap’n!”
“NO!” screamed the good captain before adding, “He’s mine!”
Capitan Morgan stood on the main deck lashed to the mast of his own ship, ropes holding him tightly from his shoulders to his ankles. He had no intention accepting his fate.
“Any last words?” the good captain said to Morgan. The good captain held the tip of his sword against Morgan’s neck with enough pressure that talking would break the skin but not enough to be lethal. “Thar gunna be no comin’ back ’tis the time Morgan, ye’ll have no head to return wit’, so ye must have somethin’ to shout.”
“The curse?” was all Morgan allowed himself to say.
“Aye yes, I knew ye’d be wonderin’ ’bout that.”
The good captain then went on to explain his visit from the Huntmaster and the removal of the curse. He didn’t need to explain that with the curse removed and deemed by the Huntmaster to be a bad curse that Captain Morgan’s crew were almost powerless to defend their ship, Morgan knew that already. For his entire life Morgan had not believed in the existence of the Huntmaster and it wasn’t until his dying breath when the good captain removed his head from the rest of his body that Morgan realised the legend was in fact true.
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