Hades's Revenge Page 10

  “You, lad, care to join me?” he asked, raising two fingers in the air to indicate to the barmaid to make that two ales.

  “I…I….”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said plopping down on the bench across from William and Jessop. He made the table look minuscule and toy-like. “How about you?” he said directing his question to Jessop.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Jessop answered the happy fellow as the barmaid set two tankards down.

  “Thank you, darling,” he said slapping down a gold coin on the table in front of her and giving her a slap on the butt. “Make that one more from my friend here.”

  She nodded looking a little red in the face at the strength of his sign of affection.

  “My name’s Olaf. Who might you be?”

  “I’m Jesse and this is William.”

  “Jesse,” he nodded, “William,” then nodded again. “Good to meet you both.”

  William said, “That’s quite a sword you’ve got on your back. I didn’t know anyone still used them.”

  “Ja. It’s been in my family for generations,” he said as he pulled it from its scabbard and set it on the table. It reached full length of the table and when it hit the surface, it felt as though it weighed a great deal.

  William was awestruck by its massiveness as was Jessop. It was well maintained but some of the nicks and scrapes were deep—a sign of use in many great battles. What Jessop noted was how easily Olaf handled the sword. William attempted to pick it up and quickly realized he needed to stand to engage his back and thigh muscles to help in doing so.

  “My, but it’s heavy.”

  “Ja, for little skinny arms like yours. You carry it around for a week and you’ll be turning the heads of that barmaid you’ve been eyeing.”

  William blushed and quickly put the sword down.

  Jessop asked, “You’re Norwegian, I’m guessing from your accent.”

  “Ja. From the north—Tromso.”

  “What brought you here to the Caribbean?” Jessop asked.

  “Besides the weather?” he said jovially. “It’s been my boyhood dream to join the ranks of pirates. Thought this would be a good place to wait for a passing pirate ship and offer my service.”

  William and Jessop looked at one another in surprise. “Why do you want to be a pirate?”

  “I’m a Viking,” he said hitting his chest with his fist. “That’s what vikings did. It’s what my ancestors were—it’s what I’d like to be. My parent are both gone and my siblings have all moved to Greenland and Iceland. There’s nothing for me at home anymore. I packed my few belongings and made my way here.”

  “How long have you been here waiting?” William asked.

  “Forrige manede, I mean a month or more. I sometime say things in Norwegian before the English comes to me.”

  “Your English is exceptional,” Jessop complimented.

  “Thank you! What’s your business on St. Croix?”

  Jessop and William looked at one another and chuckled a bit while Olaf took this moment to put his sword away. “Well, we are pirates and happen to be here on leave.”

  Olaf’s face went stone cold. “I don’t like liars. I’ve been forthright with you, I expect the same courtesies.”

  “We are pirates. We arrived on the Hades’s Revenge just this week while our quartermaster procures a supply of rum.”

  “You don’t look much like pirates,” Olaf retorted.

  “For that matter, neither do you,” William boasted.

  “You don’t speak like pirates,” Olaf said doubtfully.

  “We could throw a few ‘argh’s’ at you with an ‘avast ye, matey’ if you like,” Jessop offered in his best imitation of Bloody Harry Cash.

  “And how did you two become pirates,” Olaf asked still not convinced.

  “We were abducted initially from a pub in our home town with a dozen other souls to serve in the royal navy. Pirates over took the ship killing everyone, but the two of us. The captain saw us fighting, felt were we worth keeping alive IF we agreed to become pirates on his ship. That was what, maybe six months ago?” Jessop looked at William for verification on the facts.

  “You two must be pretty good in combat, though I’d never have guessed skinny arms here would be much of a fighter.”

  Jessop laughed and shoved William in the shoulder. William was not pleased by the comment. “He may not be a great swordsman, but he can wield an axe and throw knives like no one’s business,” Jessop commented.

  “Hmm,” Olaf murmured as if he might to see a sample of that action.

  “If you two truly are pirates, then might you be willing to get me an introduction with the captain or his first mate?” he said smiling again.

  This time William looked to Jessop for a meeting of the eyes. “We can, though, I don’t know how much influence we have,” Jessop said.

  William added, “The quartermaster doesn’t really like us much, but Jesse here, is on the captain’s good side.”

  “You are too after making the peg leg for Salty.”

  William didn’t totally agree but he nodded confirming the statement could be true.

  “I’d be greatly obliged.”

  “We can certainly try. It’d be better if we could see the captain, but Fin keeps us at a wide berth around the captain,” Jessop said.

  “He like to be in control of what the captain does and doesn’t know,” William finished.

  “A foot in the door is all I need. I’ll take it from there,” Olaf said confidently.

  “Then your timing couldn’t be much better if you planned it. We’ll be heading to the ship in the morning with the rest of the crew.”

  “Perfect,” Olaf said. He raised his tankard in the air and bellowed, “Skoll!”

  William and Jessop followed Olaf’s lead and answered his cheer with one of their own, “Skoll.”

  “Barmaid, another round for me and my brothers here.”

  She nodded an acknowledgment of the order and when she came to the table with the drinks she kept an arm’s length distance from Olaf and his wondering hands. Olaf added, “Oh, and, miss, the scrawny one here, he’s got eyes for you,” with a wink.

  Jessop laughed as William’s eyes met her smiling face and he went beet red and looked as if he would be much more comfortable under the table then sitting at it.

  * * *

  The rest of the day and night was spent getting to know Olaf and the great stories he had of his ancestors. Jessop and William couldn’t keep up with Olaf’s consumption of ale, but that didn’t mean they didn’t try.

  When the singing began, Olaf joined right in and surprisingly to everyone in the room, despite how inebriated they were, Olaf had the voice of an angel. He offered up to them a folk song in Norwegian that had the room as quiet and still as a church and poor Stubby in tears. When he was done all applauded him and he reciprocated the flattery by buying them all a round of ale. He was a likeable bloke and made friends as easily as breathing.

  The morning came too soon for Jessop and William as they tore themselves out of bed and lumbered down the stairs to the main room of the inn. There was Olaf shoveling in a plate full of eggs and potatoes washing it down with more ale.

  Jessop’s head pounded and throbbed and he could see that William was in no better shape. They both sat at the table where Olaf quickly had the barmaid slipping plates of steaming food in front of them. It was the last thing Jessop wanted and he thought he saw William gag when he caught a whiff of the meal.

  “Have a little ale, it will help with your headache,” Olaf offered as the barmaid brought them drink. William and Jessop doubted such a thing would help.

  “Trust me,” Olaf implored.

  Jessop and William clinked their tankards quietly together and whispered, “Skoll,” taking a long draw on the beer. A few minutes later, they did start to feel a little better and were even able to eat a bit of their meals.

  Feeling better by the minute they stood and started to h
ead for the door when the barmaid hurried over and kissed William on the cheek looking altogether coy about it. William blushed and asked Jessop if something had happened between the two of them the night before, but Jessop couldn’t remember much after the dancing on tables around midnight.

  Everyone who passed Olaf gave him a pat on the back like old friends might. The crowd of them moseyed along the sandy path to the docks where the Revenge stood waiting for its crew.

  At the top of the gang plank stood a perpetually grumpy Fin. With a notebook in hand checking off who was back onboard, he frowned even more when he saw the smiling face of the giant Olaf. Olaf had at least three inches on Fin horizontally and vertically. Jessop could see in his gestures that Fin liked being the biggest one on board and this larger creature did not sit well with him.

  “What’s this?” Fin demanded.

  Jessop offered, “This is Olaf.”

  Olaf stood smiling from ear to ear down at Fin. His helmet was slightly crooked on his head making him look like a colossal child ready for a costume party. Olaf offered his hand to shake showing the tribal tattoos beneath his sleeves.

  Jessop continued, “Olaf would like to join the crew.”

  At hearing this, many of the men passing by added their approval with a, “Skoll, Olaf.”

  This did not please Fin in the slightest.

  “We’re not taking recruits at this time,” Fin said waving away Olaf’s hand.

  “But, sir,” William said, “We lost Skipper and Roman when we took the Merriweather. Surely we can use another man to take their place.”

  Fin didn’t like being challenged and certainly not by the likes of William or Jessop.

  “What might he be knowing about seamanship?” Fin scoffed.

  “A lot,” Jessop offered. “His family has been seafarers for generations and he and his brothers make boats for a living.”

  Jessop could see this outburst had Fin steaming under the collar. He wondered if anyone else had offered up Olaf to Fin if he’d have reacted the same. Most likely not and this infuriated Jessop. Olaf deserved a chance and he wasn’t getting a fair run at it because of him and William.

  “Look, Fin. I know you have your issues with me—and William because of his association with me, but Olaf is a decent man whose life-long dream is to sail under a jolly roger. Can’t you look past your hatred and see the asset of enlisting such a man?” Jessop said loudly and angrily.

  Fin was about to lay him out on the deck for his subordination, but it was the captain who answered Jessop’s question.

  “I can,” said the captain, just feet away from the two men who locked in a hateful stare. “He looks to be a right fit specimen an’ I’d be honored to have such a loyal and behemoth man sailing under me command.” The captain offered his hand in a shake.

  “It’d be a privilege, Captain, sir,” Olaf said practically shaking the captain’s arm off. The captain eyed Fin and said in a murmur, “A word, Fin?” Fin nodded and followed the captain to a more private area to speak.

  Olaf was thrilled and if he didn’t look like a little kid earlier, then he certainly did now. Jessop and William showed him the way to the barracks below and helped him get settled. They introduced him around to the officers and masters he had not met the night before at the inn.

  It was Bloody Harry Cash who took a great liking to him and put him to work instantly on weighing the anchor.

  The next few weeks the Revenge headed northwest towards the colonial coastline, but as luck would have it, two storms back to back kept them captive as they waited in a sheltered bay on the northwest side of Bermuda.

  There had been plenty of food and rum aboard but despite the torrents of rain, water had been lacking. Jessop took this downtime to rummage around and come up with something to fix the problem.

  Collecting rain water worked, but it too never seemed to be enough and certainly not sufficient to bathe the men. Of course they could douse a smelly pirate in the sea trading one stench for another and they certainly did so on occasion, but wouldn’t it be nice to have enough water to shower on a regular basis?

  Jessop found a dusty old still and wondered if he could use the same theory to rid sea water of its salt making it drinkable. The theory came to him as he watched the condensation on the inside of a large wine bottle as the sun heated it in a brisk break in the clouds. The condensation from the evaporated water would be drinkable as the salt would be too heavy to vaporize.

  He went straight to work tinkering in the bowels of the ship, coming up once in a while to the kitchen and stealing an item or two from Beans. Though Beans muttered obscenities under his breath when he couldn’t find a tool he needed, he forgave Jessop when he revealed to him that he had as much water as he wanted for cooking and cleaning the mess hall.

  The next step was saving the water in extra barrels and making a shower stall on deck with a barrel above to serve the shower.

  William was the first victim of the newly installed washing receptacle.

  “I don’t know what you have planned, but don’t you do it,” William threatened Olaf and Jessop closing in on him.

  Jessop distracted him while Olaf grabbed his arms from behind and more or less dragged him kicking and screaming to the shower. The sailors quickly gathered to see the ruckus and cheer them on.

  Clothes and all, William was shoved into the stall doused and with water. Before he could shake his head and wipe at his eyes Olaf started lathering him up while William scrubbed at the soapy residue with a long handled brush. He tried to escape but Stubby and Joe blocked the door of the stall while William and Olaf worked feverishly. One more soaking of water and the door was unbarred. William broke free of the stall sopping wet.

  As he turned to look at the laughing men he said, “Oh, you think this is funny? You wait. Your turn will come, then who will be laughing…ME!”

  Needless to say, William was not happy about the incident, but all who bunked near him were grateful for the lack of smell he had once he dried.

  Fin who was never happy about anything Jessop did on board, didn’t grumble too loudly about the new system of cleanliness and once or twice he’d seen a wet Fin exiting the contraption.

  Though much of their food still was salted for preservation purposes, a little less salt from available drinking water was happily accepted. Bean’s had a new zest for cooking and started experimenting more with soups instead of stews.

  With the danger of the hurricane behind them and fair skies as far as one could see, they again headed for the captain’s favorite stop—Diamond Island.

  * * *

  Leave at the Cock and Bull was pleasantly entertaining. Drinking and cohorting were in high order. Olaf ended each night with a ballad of some Norwegian folk song, lulling the drunken rowdy men into submission and sleep. The barkeep was always grateful to see Olaf step up at night’s end for he knew, thankfully, that the fighting, breaking of furniture and abusive slurring was coming to an end for the evening.

  Though this leave was longer than the last one they spent here, they never saw the captain leave the ship to head to his secret place. Jessop was relieved to have not run into Miss Patti on this occasion as well, but he couldn’t help finding his mind wandering where she might be.

  He’d had many thoughts about that night in the barn and the things William had pointed out. He’d like to change her opinion of him, if nothing else, so that she didn’t think him an inept. But then he wondered why he cared so much how she viewed him. Chances are he’d never see her again so what did it matter. He didn’t know, but somehow it did.

  When the bills were paid and the men filled with good food and drink, they meandered back to the boat under the watchful eye of Fin. Each man was checked off one by one in his notebook. If Fin was nothing else, he was certainly efficient and organized and very, very testy.

  Salty skittered over to greet Jessop and William as the captain came aboard looking fit and jolly. Behind him was a scrawny knave in clothes far too
big for his frame and a mass of hair clubbed with a black ribbon.

  Jessop watched as the boy stepped aboard meeting no one’s gaze and carrying the captain’s leather bag over his shoulder, a cloth tied at all four corners containing his own personal items, and a gigantic cat.

  “This is me new cabin boy, Patrick. He will be serving me in me cabin and will take the cabin next to mine as his own,” the captain announced.

  Many of the men nodded in greeting to the new recruit but the shy boy kept his head low and his hand wrapped tightly around the cat.

  Olaf greeted Patrick with a hearty slap on the back nearly knocking him to the floor. The cat escaped and the boy then pursued it. Olaf followed to help.

  “Well, glad to see y’all rested and ready. Shall we weigh anchor and set sail fer Newfoundland in search of wayward Brits to raid and plunder?”

  A boisterous “Aye, aye, Captain,” rose from the ranks of men as they readied themselves to set sail.

  * * *

  The Revenge made her way up the coast, just shy of Greenland. The captain confessed to hearing the British were sending another fully stocked ship of armory for their soldiers.

  It was bitter cold waiting along the northern coast of Newfoundland in late October and it didn’t help they were ambushed with storm after storm for weeks, but true to his word, along came a lone British frigate heavy in the water with her load.

  As was the captain’s style, they let her pass them unseen then came up on her in the night, cannons blazing and flaming through the air. Though the Florence was laden with arms, her captain steered her with great agility, and for a moment, she almost broke away from the onslaught of shrapnel, but when one of the chain shots took out her rudder, and the main sails caught fire, there was no hope for her escape.

  Pirates swinging on ropes spate her deck and like a wave washing over her, the men of the Florence soon littered the water and whole of the ship. They fought bravely but there were three pirates to every British sailor. Hardly a man on the Revenge was injured, except for Jolly Joe who lost his pinky and ring finger on his right hand. Luckily for him, he was a lefty.