I need critiques, the more brutal the better. Also I apologize I was trying for this piece to be historically sound, but as I found out most of the ports known for piracy were either destroyed or had become anti-pirate by the time my story is taking place. So while Port Royal did not exist in 1718 please pretend like it did...This is fantasy after all right?
Her Father’s funeral was a simple affair held that evening. At dusk his stiff body was ceremoniously laid into a plundered rowboat and lowered into the sea. Pegg gave a robust speech about her Father’s courage, compassion, and overall goodness. William said a small prayer and it seemed so odd to Jo to hear the dodgy crew give a solemn “Amen.” Josette had arranged for all of the men to receive an extra share of rum sort of as a peace offering.
As her Father’s body drifted off into the midnight sea the officers on board were called into Josette’s quarters. There was a lot to discuss and Jo wanted to feel out their loyalties. Who could she trust? Which ones would she have to watch her back around? The light from several lanterns gleamed off the rich mahogany paneling of the cabin giving it a cozy feel. The large oak table had been scrubbed clean of her Father’s blood and someone had quickly repaired the hole that had been left by the cannonball.
Chairs scraped against the wooden floor as men assembled themselves around the table. Josette positioned herself at the head of the table in her Father’s red chair. The scene seemed almost surreal to her; was she truly the new Captain of the Dark Goddess? Clearing her throat, she was pleased to see that most of the men seemed to house no resentment towards her, but they could be masking their true emotions. “What are the damages to the ship?” She asked addressing the boatswain who sat to the left of Pegg.
“Well, we’ve already patched up the majority of holes that were caused by the cannons,” George began his speech slightly slurred by the rum he had already imbibed, “Don’t know why they saw fit to blast our ship at such close range, but fortunately they only got off a few rounds.”
“We were lucky, most of the damage was done to the sails,” the carpenter, Sam, put in. “Most of those have been replaced by the sails we took from the Rosario.”
“What of loot? What was our take on that?” Josette turned to Pegg who had already written out a detailed list of the new cargo. It had always impressed her that such a rough looking man was literate.
“Four crates of leather shoes, six bales of silk, ten casks of Spanish wine, four barrels of tobacco, two very fine Persian rugs, and eight chickens.” Pegg paused as if for dramatic effect. “We also found three unmarked crates which upon opening contained gold bars.”
Jo’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. “Gold? On a merchant ship?”
Pegg smiled broadly showing a mouth of crooked and blackened teeth. “Aye, sixteen gold bars in each crate. Needed four men just lift the crates.”
“Makes a bit more sense why they decided to fight back,” One-Eyed Freddie piped in.
Jo nodded her head in agreement. This was certainly a stroke of good fortune. “Where is the gold now?”
“We locked it up with the weapons,” Pegg assured her gesturing towards the closet her Father had always kept padlocked except during battles. Her Father and Pegg where the only ones who knew where the key was hidden and Jo figured she would soon find out.
“And what of the crew?” Jo didn’t have to explain what she meant by the question, all those present understood.
An awkward pause followed, the heavy silence filled with the rustling of clothing and uncomfortable grunts. Finally One-Eyed Freddie spoke up. “Many are dissatisfied to serve under a woman.” He said it with such disdain that Jo figured he shared in their sentiments.
“But many remain loyal,” Pegg quickly assured her.
“Aye,” William agreed and Jo understood he was one of the loyal.
None spoke of mutiny, although it was unlikely that it would be mentioned if there were such a plot brewing. Josette fought down the nasty taste of fear rising in her throat. “How long until we reach port?”
“As long as the weather remains fair we should arrive in Port Royal within a week.” William replied. Josette just had to stay alive for a week.
