“Where be your Captain? Cowering into his cabin?” Chibs asked, cocking the hammer of the pistol.
“Aye, he is.” the sailor stammered responding.
“Go and fetch him. If he comes out armed, we’ll kill everyone on deck before we burn this tub and leave you to swim boy.” Chibs hissed, shoving the young sailor to the gangway. “My name is Chibs, I’m the Quartermaster aboard the ‘Drowned Maiden,’ none of you cowards will be harmed if you keep your mouths shut and do as you’re told. Lift a finger against my crew and I will see every one of you dead.” Chibs shouted over the remaining crew, who were now being forced down to kneel on the deck of their ship by the boarding pirates. Lilith had crossed the gang plank and was now standing by Trina, aiming her pistol at a kneeling sailor who looked to be her own age. The young man still had a fair complexion and no beard, as he knelt, Lilith noticed his hands were shaking and tears ran down his face. A puddle of urine gathered around the deck where his knees touched.
Lilith, trying to remain focused in her own right, felt an edge of pity over the young sailor. She quickly snapped out of it when the sailor Trina had her pistol trained on tried to stand. Trina, in one swift motion raised her foot and kicked the sailor square in the throat. She then swept her pistol down, hitting the man over the head with the edge of her hand and handle of the gun. The remaining sailors on deck kept still, this show of instant force snuffed out any ideas of heroism among them.
The American Captain appeared from his cabin ready to accept his defeat, his shoulders slumped, head hanging. He approached Chibs to offer a formal surrender of the ship. Lilith watched as the events toward the quarterdeck of the American vessel unfolded, but she caught a smell, an awful retching smell that caused her to recoil slightly. She paused, wondering what the source of the offending odor was. It smelled like death and passed almost as soon as she had detected it. Again, it wafted into her senses and almost caused her to gag.
“What in the bloody? That’d gag a shit eating maggot!” Trina shouted, confirming Lilith was not the only one who smelled the foulness. Lilith stepped over to the netting covering the hold and peered downward, the smell was wafting from below and as she leaned over the hold there was no passing smell, it permeated her nose engulfing her senses. Lilith started to recoil and step away when something caught her eye, in the shadows below deck under the grate covering the hold Lilith saw a set of eyes. Her eyes adjusted to the shadow under the deck and Lilith started to make out faces. Just below the grate covering, Lilith observed them momentarily, people.
“Trina!” Lilith called over gesturing for her new mentor.
“What? What is it?” Trina snapped, stepping over and looking into the hold Lilith motioned toward. Trina gasped, both from what she witnessed and the overpowering smell. At once she called out to Chibs who had heard the commotion but was intent on dealing with the surrendering American skipper.
“Chibs!” Trina called, “You’d better come and look at this!”
“Hold on there,” Chibs began to respond. At that moment, an American sailor came from the hold, a tomahawk in one hand and sword in the other. The tomahawk raised to strike Chibs from behind. Lilith raised her pistol, squeezing the trigger prematurely sending a ball careening in front of Chibs’ would be assailant and meeting the wooden wall behind Chibs. This gave the attacker just a second of hesitation, which when Chibs spun to see who fired a shot was enough for him to level his pistol at the attacker and send the round into his chest at point blank range. This precipitated a reaction from a few more of the Americans, who were dealt with in the same manner and speed.
Chibs made his way over to the hold and looked down through the grate.
“Mother of god, what have these… what in the bloody name of Mary…” Chibs stammered but could not finish a sentence, his face flushed red offsetting his white beard. He raised his unfired pistol in one hand and grabbing the surrendering captain with the other placed the muzzle of the weapon directly under the man’s chin.
“Where did you take them on?” Chibs demanded through gritted teeth.
“Jamaica, please don’t shoot…” the captain stammered back in reply.
“Where in Jamaica you bloody fool? It’s a big enough island!” Chibs hissed through his teeth louder, his patience for the man gone.
“It’s, it’s a secret port. We take on goods in Kingston and then we are paid to shuttle the slaves as well,” the driveling captain barely had time to finish his sentence. Chibs discharged the pistol under his chin, sending the shot through the man’s mouth and head, throwing him backward to the deck in a rain of his own blood and brain matter.
“Trina, empty everyone from the hold. Get them across to the Maiden.” Chibs instructed, still staring down at the man he had just killed, “Then you may gather these prisoners of ours up. See to it they are placed down into their own hold, shoot any who resist. Bring three of the bastards across with you when you’re done, the Captain will want to ask some questions.”
Chapter 3
H.M.S Valor
11 Aug 1808
48 Degrees 12’ N, 9 Degrees 4’ W
The starboard bow chaser on the H.M.S Valor roared, sending its
