A Pirate's Life For Us

Chapter 3 - Bad Reputation

"Stand aware, men. You find yourself in the presence of Blackbeard."

Izzy's voice boomed across the deck of the Revenge. The new crew was assembled along the deck - hand-picked by Izzy and monsters to a one.

Ed hadn't gone ashore when his first mate went ashore at Tortuga to recruit replacements for the crewmembers they had left marooned on a small island.

In retrospect, Ed should have gone with him, but the pirate was too busy trying to figure out how the hell he was going to undo what he'd done in a moment of weakness.

It ended up being worse than even he would have predicted. He stepped out onto the deck, dressed again in the mask and armor of the fearsome pirate, complete with painted on beard and darkened eyes. 

Even Ivan and Fang looked like gentle puppydogs standing alongside this new lot. In fact, the two men were situated towards the bow of the ship, away from the new cluster of men.

The smell hit Ed before he got a good look at them. The last crew weren't exactly paragons of cleanliness, but they got a bit better - especially with Stede's influence.

The six men barely had two dozen teeth between them. There were missing eyes, missing fingers and a great deal of scarring. Any one of them would be dangerous when provoked, but all together they could cause a seasoned naval officer to jump into the sea to avoid a fight.

These were men who would be absolutely fearsome in battle. But they were also the kind of men who would turn on you at the slightest hint of weakness.

That was likely deliberate on Izzy's part. The man might have been cantankerous, sadistic and humourless, but he was by no means stupid.

Ed didn't say anything. He just made sure to channel that dark persona that had served him for many years. He hitched his fingers into his belt and paced up and down, looking each man in the eye as he did.

They had all killed. He knew it in his bones. And what's more, they had enjoyed it.

Sadism among pirates was by no means a rare trait, but these men were on a new level.

There was one of the men who was eyeing Ed like he saw through his mask. He knew that if he didn't assert his dominance there and then, this man would be a problem.

He stopped in front of the burly man with a shaved head and three gold teeth. He had a necklace of desiccated human fingers around his neck. One of his pupils was permanently dilated from a blow to the head.

"What's this one's name?" asked Ed in a low rumble, without ever taking his eyes off the man who was taller than him by half a hand.

The man opened his mouth to speak.

Ed lifted a finger slowly and pressed it to his lips. "Not asking you."

Izzy cleared his throat, then added, "That's Reaper. He comes highly recommended by Ned Lowe."

Ed twitched. Lowe was a monster, even by pirate standards.

"Aye. Saw him cut the lips off a man and then force him to cook and eat 'em," said Reaper with the lilting tones of a Scotsman.

Izzy shifted his still-bandaged foot completely out of impulse.

"Cooking. That's a nice touch. I prefer the raw feeding of body parts. But I can see the appeal of prolonging it. How is old Ned, anyway?"

"Weak," hissed Reaper. "He spared the women and children of the last transport ship we raided."

"Reaper is looking to serve under a proper pirate. As are the rest of these men." Izzy suddenly raised his voice. "I told them there is no more brutal pirate than Blackbeard." He sounded proud, though his face was the same smelled-a-fart expression he always wore.

Ed looked from Izzy back to Reaper. The man was still watching him with a predator's intense gaze, probing for weakness.

Could he see it? Could he sense the mark of love that still hung off Ed like the haze of Stede's cologne?

Reaper clearly didn't believe in his reputation. That wasn't something that Ed was used to. He had only needed to do a few brutal acts of showmanship early in his career. Then he could ride that reputation, becoming gentler and more merciful over time as safety set in and his armor was allowed to fall away.

Ed started to slowly turn away. And then, with no warning, he spun around and drew a short dagger. He dug the silver-handled knife into the joint of Reaper's shoulder, where he knew there was a cluster of nerves that would shoot fire throughout the man's body.

He let it rest in there a moment, then gave it a vicious twist and removed it. A spurt of blood shot across the deck.

Reaper cried out in pain and reached for his own weapon to retaliate, but the others, without hesitation, drew their own weapons to point at him.

Ed flicked a bit of blood off his hand, cleaned off the knife and slid it away.

"I'm not Ned Lowe."

—-

Ed managed to keep the mask on for a few hours as the crew set sail. Then, he retreated to the empty cabin. It was so stripped of reminders of Stede that his feet echoed in the hollow space.

He went over to a water basin and wiped the dark makeup off his face, clearing it with a scrap of old sail. Rivulets of black tainted the water until it was a flat shade of gray.

Without the dark paint under his eyes, the pain was more clearly visible. He hated himself for that. He hated being Blackbeard.

But those men would kill him if he didn't play the part. Izzy had made sure of it.

Before he had retreated to the cabin, Ed had managed to speak to Fang to ask him to fetch Jim and Frenchie after the others had fallen asleep.

There was a soft rap on his cabin door shortly after midnight.

Fang opened the door to push in Jim and Frenchie - Jim with their hands still bound.

Jim was scowling at Ed, their face knotted into a look just this side of fury. Frenchie came in behind them, his body bowed and his head down as if he thought stretching to his full height might make him seem like a threat.

Ed waited until Fang had latched the door to approach them both. "Look, I..."

Before he even knew what was happening, Jim was on him with an improvised shiv made from a bit of the hull that must have come loose. They pushed it up against Ed's jugular and he felt the splinter bite into his throat. "Tell me why I shouldn't pierce your fucking windpipe right now, you traitor."

Those words hit Ed like they'd stabbed him in the gut. His dark eyes grew pained and soft. He fought back a sting of tears.

He swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing into the pointed wooden shard.

"Because if you kill me, Izzy and the rest of those maniacs kill you. And then we'd all be dead. And you wouldn't get to see Olu again."

"Well, but that's probably going to happen anyhow," murmured Frenchie unhelpfully from his spot near the door.

Ed wobbled his head. "Ah...yes, probably. But if you kill me, you won't have an ally who can order people around?"

Jim pressed forward, biting the bit of wood deep enough to draw blood. "Ally?" they hissed.

"Yes, well. I've realized..." Ed's eyebrows went up, "...that in my heartbreak I may have made a teensy, tiny...horrible mistake. And if you kill me, then we can't fix this."

Jim looked at Ed with deep suspicion and still barely contained fury.

"Jim...he's right. If he's with us, then we have a chance. But if you kill him, we're on our own with those lunatics."

Jim glanced at Frenchie, then very, very reluctantly, withdrew the wooden shiv.

"What's your plan?"