No Good Stede Goes Unpunished by Eddie Jones

Author:Eddie Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eddie Jones
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Banner of the Brethren

Under the traditional democracy of piracy, the crew of a ship could, by formal vote, unseat the captain and replace him at any time not in battle. Aboard the Revenge, an insurrection had broken out.

Captain Bonnet’s cabin remained in shambles from our confrontation with the British warship. Broken glass, splintered wood, books strewn about, smashed dishes and spilt brandy reflected the general mood of the captain who, due to his wounds and sour disposition, refused to leave his quarters.

“Back in the dory the other night,” I said to Elvis, “you mentioned that you might have an idea who turned in the men leading the mutiny.”

Since our rescue from Block Island, I had visited Elvis each morning in the brig. Black Scarf had placed our cook behind bars due to some grave offense: the bulk of which I gathered had to do with Elvis serving the men rat droppings rather than raisins in their porridge.

Elvis replied, “I did?”

I passed him a stale, hard piece of bread through the bars.

The man in the neighboring cell asked, “You bring bread fer me?”

“Sorry,” I replied, “but the captain says you’re to remain on a hunger strike.”

The other prisoner replied, “But I not be striking.”

“Or eating,” said Elvis smugly.

The man shot back, “Better to starve than eat that grub you call food.”

“That so, fatso?”

“I won’t give you up,” I said to Elvis, “if that’s what you’re worried about. Only trying to make sure I don’t step into a trap.”

“Squid, you be needed on deck!”

“Who’s the mole?”

“Not that one,” said Elvis. “Though had I a cleaver I might serve him to the sharks, I might. Mole be the other one.”

“What other one?”

Before Elvis could reply, a cry went up: “Sail ho! Sail ho!”

To my surprise, I found our captain on deck looking disheveled and seemingly confused as to the hurried activity by the crew.

“I know why you and Livers slipped away,” Black Scarf said to me.

“You do?”

“And if you don’t do exactly as I say, I’ll tell the captain ‘bout them bills of sale.”

From the crow’s nest, a cry went up. “GET DOWN!”

Before I could hit the deck, a cannonball tore through the lower half of our mainsail. The warning shot sent the men diving for cover.

“You know who that is out there, man?” Black Scarf passed the glass to Little Bird Boyd.

“Not a friendly vessel, it would appear,” Boyd replied.

Black Scarf continued, “Flies the banner of the brethren, she does.”

The vessel, smaller than the Revenge, lowered the plain black flag and raised another, this one also black but with a horned skeleton holding an hourglass in one hand and a spear piercing a heart in the other.

“Blackbeard,” whispered Little Bird Boyd.

“Aye,” said Black Scarf. “Doomed we be.”

Meanwhile, our round little captain stood dumbfounded in his bright-red waistcoat and trim royal-blue breeches. His curled wig canted to one side. Barking commands, Captain Bonnet demanded to know why our own pirate flag had not already gone up.

The men knew better. Flaunting ours would only invite swift, harsh, and brutal retribution.

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