Dark Waters Rising

Beach

"Captain," a voice startled Valentine awake. It was not yet dawn, but his quartermaster seemed anxious as he entered the captain's quarters.

"Aye?" his voice was deeper from the few hours of sleep.

"We've spotted the islands."

"Good," he said, glancing down at the man curled up to his side. "Ready a jolly boat."

"How many men are going ashore?"

"Just me," he said.

"Pardon?"

Valentine freed his arm from under Wesley and promptly unwrapped the bandage on his hand to show his friend. It looked like some sort of horrid infection had befallen his palm. His skin there was blacker than the ocean's depths and tendrils of inky veins were sprouting from the center mass like branches from a tree. A physician would likely have tried to take his hand for it, but both Valentine and his quartermaster, a man who had become familiarized with oceanic lore after his many years at sea, recognized it for what it was: a beacon for his executioner.

"I am now the bearer of the black spot which means I am no longer fit to captain this ship. As long as I am on the water, I am putting everyone around me in danger. Today I will renounce my position as captain and ask that you leave me behind on these islands to live out the remainder of my days in peace, however many they may be. I will also ask that you bring Mr. Roberts here to whichever port he desires when he wakes. In exchange for this, I offer you and the rest of the crew equal share of the ship and all of my accumulated wealth from my years of piracy."

"I don't want to go."

Valentine's brows furrowed as he looked down at the newly awakened merchant. "Yes you do."

"No I don't," he argued like a stubborn child.

Valentine shook his head in anguish. "You're still delirious from the song. Trust me, you do not want to come with me. I'm offering you freedom. Isn't that what you want?"

"I want to stay with you," Wesley insisted, sitting up and meeting Valentine's eyes with a fierce determination that the pirate just couldn't say no to. It didn't help that the thought of being alone with Wesley on an island sounded far too appealing. It was too easy to give in to the merchant's pleas, despite knowing it was not what the man truly desired.

With an exasperated huff, Valentine pulled his gaze away from the merchant to look at his first mate again.

"In that case, I ask that you return to the island in a month's time to carry out his will when he's got his senses back."

"Aye, Captain," the man bowed his head before exiting the room.

Valentine turned his head to the merchant once the other man had left, knowing full well that Wesley would be furious with him once he was back to being himself. For now though, the merchant had a content smile on his lips.

"Come, Wesley. Help me gather supplies."

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Despite the healing wound in his thigh, Valentine had enough strength to drag the jolly boat free of the tide. The sand beneath his feet did not help his grip, but as soon as the water was shallow enough, Wesley set down his oars and hopped out to help push it further onto the beach. Once the pirate was satisfied with its distance from the water, he dropped his hold on it and turned his eyes to the horizon. If he squinted against the light of the sunrise, he could just make out the silhouette of his retreating ship. 

"No," a faint mumbling had Valentine's attention returning to Wesley. "No, no, no."

The man was clutching his head with his eyes squeezed shut. The edges of Valentine's lips felt heavier as he watched the man fall to his knees and curl up on himself. He had noticed the abnormal silence from the man all morning as they were preparing to leave and had recognized it as the merchant's state of mind returning to his control.  Unfortunately for Wesley, it had not returned soon enough to spare him from being trapped on an island with his worst enemy.

Wesley's eyes snapped open and desperately locked onto the horizon. Violent splashing occurred moments later as the merchant ran into the ocean and frantically waved his arms around to try to get the ship's attention. He was shouting nonsense at the top of his lungs, begging it to return and take him with. Realizing it was too far to see or hear him, Wesley swiveled his gaze to the jolly boat they had just arrived in. 

Valentine could practically see the gears turning in Wesley's head, but they came to a grinding halt when the man realized he would not be able to catch up to a triple-masted vessel riding the wind with nothing but a single manned rowboat. Especially with the distance that had already formed between them.  

Valentine waited patiently, knowing the anger and desperation brewing in every fiber of the merchant would soon turn on him.

He didn't have to wait long.

"You!" Wesley screamed in frustration, whirling towards the pirate and approaching in a fit of rage. "This is your fault!"

Valentine did not react, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon as he let the merchant release his pent up anger. 

"What the hell did you do to me?" he yelled, shoving the pirate's chest harshly so that he was forced to take a few steps backward to keep his balance. Wesley then gripped a fistful of Valentine's shirt and the pirate braced himself for the punch he knew he deserved. "You took away my free will! You put me under your sick spell and made me into some lovesick child!"

Wesley's fist was clenched so tightly his knuckles bloomed an angry white. He wanted to strike the pirate so badly. He wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. He wanted to mar his stupidly perfect face with ugly bruises and split skin, but the hit never came. Instead, frustrated tears leaked from his eyes. "Do you know what that's like? To not be in control of your own body? Your own mind?"

His voice was becoming weaker, and Valentine closed his eyes for he did not wish to see the merchant cry. 

"And now I'm trapped here with you," he said bitterly. Now that he wasn't yelling, Valentine could hear the thickness in his voice. 

Wesley couldn't bring himself to strike the pirate in that moment. He wasn't sure why. He didn't want to think about why. He told himself it was because he was a better man than the pirate, and that he didn't need to resort to violence to heal the anguish and pain weighing his heart down like an anchor. He wanted to believe that, and so he did.

The merchant slowly relaxed both of his fists, releasing his grip on the pirate's shirt.

His voice cracked a little as he weakly said, "You're a monster."

Then he walked away, leaving the pirate standing beside the jolly boat as he walked off his frustration further down the beach. 

"I know," Valentine softly said to himself as soon as the merchant was out of hearing range.

Not wanting to dwell on the storm of guilt that churned inside of him, Valentine busied himself with gathering wood to use for a fire. Though the sun was warm now, he knew that the night would bring a bitter cold. They had brought with them a couple barrels of wine and brined beef, which Valentine estimated would last them a few months if they rationed, so for now, his main focus was on fire and shelter. 

He hoped Wesley would return before nightfall. 

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A/N

What's your favorite game to play?

Also, fun fact, pirate contracts (signed before every voyage) say that a captain can be put in and out of power based on democratic votes by the crew. Also any person working aboard a pirate vessel is free to leave the crew at any port at any time without consequence.

See you on Wednesday!
-Mora Montgomery

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Useful Terminology: 

Quartermaster - the person that's in charge of the ship for all purposes except authority in battle (that's the captain's job). He takes care of distributing rations/wealth/punishment/etc. The captain is basically the elected "face" of the pirate vessel that the world sees and fears whereas the quartermaster is the person that actually keeps everything running and orderly. 

Jolly boat - the name for a lifeboat/rowboat around this time period. Specifically they're the boats ships use to ferry supplies and people from the ship to land and vice versa.

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