Robin Hood | The Stormwhite Between Them

Chapter 9 (Honourless)

Song: YES MOM by Tessa Violet

The Rattler was at sea.

At the trading port south of 'shelter bay', the weather had cleared several days earlier and Jonas had put to sea immediately. The rattler was a bigger ship than the WolfWind, with a much larger crew to handle her, and to bail her out if necessary. So Jonas had no fears about her ability to handle the waves. They'd left a mess in their wake, hours before departing they ransacked some of the traders riches, fleeing the scene before backup arrived. The loot from the port had somewhat made up from what those bandits had stole from them. A while back Jonas's crew had stolen from the so called famous 'merry men' but their success had been short-lived, before they could make it to their secret base another group of bandits had crossed them taking most of their earnings from the voyage. All they were left with now was some kid with a bounty on his head.

Now Jonas's hunting instincts were aroused.

After a lengthy storm like the one that had finally passed, he knew that traders would be eager to get to sea as soon as possible. The first ships to reach trading ports in the weeks to come could demand a premium for their cargoes, since goods would be scarce due to the storm's delays. Once more and more ships were at sea, however, the prices would come back to normal.

That meant there would be lone ships on the ocean, laden with valuables and trade goods. Their captains would be after those initial high profits. They wouldn't wait to travel in company with other ships—even though such a course might be safer—their speed would be restricted to that of the slowest ship in the fleet. And they would be competing with the other captains to sell their cargoes.

Greed and an appetite for gold were wonderful motivators, Jonas thought. And he should know. They were what motivated him. He'd taken the Rattler to sea the previous day, standing by the tiller until a few hours before dawn. Then, deciding that the weather held no unpleasant surprises in the near future, he'd turned in, leaving the helm to his second in command.

He woke hours later, sensing movement in the ship as the rowing crew changed. He rolled out of his sleeping furs and sat upright. Unlike the WolfWind, the Rattler had a decked-in section running the full length of the ship. Jonas had a small sleeping cabin at the stern, accessed by a sliding hatch close to the steering platform. The headroom was minimal—barely a meter and a half. But it was sheltered and dry and it gave him privacy when he wanted it.

It also gave him an excellent place to store his personal treasures. He sat on the deck and pulled on his sealskin boots and a fur-trimmed leather jacket. His sword lay to one side in its scabbard and he picked it up, preparatory to going on deck. He half stood, crouching in the low headroom, then paused. There was a shelf to one side of the cabin, set on an upward angle to prevent its contents spilling out as the ship rolled. He reached toward it and stroked a chamois sack nestled on it, as he did every time he left the cabin. He felt the handle shape of the axe inside the sack and smiled to himself. His eyes flittered through the rest of his stolen valuables.

'Oh, Oberjarl Erak, wouldn't you love to have this back?' he said softly. Then, still smiling, he slid back the hatch and clambered out onto the deck. 

Arcus, his first mate, greeted him with a nod as he scanned the horizon.

"Any change?" Jonas asked, and his henchman shook his head.

"Wind may have moderated a little," he said.

Jonas nodded thoughtfully. 'That'll suit us. Any sign of a ship?'

Arcus shook his head. 'Nothing so far. But it's early yet.'

Jonas grunted. His first mate was right. They had been at sea for less than half a day. Still, he was impatient. They had spent weeks moored in a sheltered creek on the Stormwhite coast—a spot known only to himself and several other pirate skippers—and he resented the unproductive time. His men were loyal to him—but only so long as he could provide them with gold and silver and other booty. He knew he had a reputation as a lucky skipper but that could change after a few weeks of cruising without finding any victims. Jonas was superstitious and he half believed that if they didn't find a ship to prey on today, they would have lean pickings over the next few months. They had to find a ship today and return to their base.

They quickly found one and once they boarded they found that the trading ship had already sold its cargo. Jonas signalled his men to bring the Captain forward, the only surviving man of the trading crew they had just slaughtered.

Two of the big men who had followed him aboard grabbed the captain by an arm on either side and marched him to the stern of the ship. At Jonas's signal, they threw the captain onto the deck. Jonas leaned against the bulwark close to the tiller, looking down curiously at the captain.

"You've sold your cargo. That means your cash chest will be full of gold. Where is it?" When the man stayed silent he goaded. 'I promise I'll spare you if you tell me.' He added.

He thought for a moment, "concealed plank next to the keel."

The strongbox was where the captain had said, concealed behind a false panel. There was no lock. The hiding place was considered security enough. But when Jonas pried the lid open, his eyes grew wider with avarice.

There was gold there, of course. And plenty of it.

"You promised..."

Jonas turned, frowning. "I promised? Promised what?"

"Spare me..." The man held out a beseeching hand.

"Did I?" he said, then he smiled as he seemed to remember. "So I did."

He turned back to the captain and, drawing his curved sword, ran the man through.

"I lied."

Then he turned to his accomplices and jerked a thumb at the dead captain.

"Throw that overboard."