Under The Black Flag

Rikki

King of the junkyard
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A gentle breeze was blowing through the top sails. It was a nice sunny day and the Devil's Revenge was sailing softly on the quiet water. On board of the ship though the atmosphere was not quite pleasant.
It had been only a few hours since Mr. Worth had mysteriously disappeared. Mr. Worth had been the quartermaster of the Devil's Revenge for 4 years and he had always been respected and admired by all the members of the crew. There had never been a time his opinions or words had been questioned or his position put to test.
Captain Ryder could not find a single one of his men who could want or wish the death of Mr. Worth. One by one he was passing all his men in his mind, looking for a reason, a sign. He wanted justice. Ryder considered Worth as a friend, an equal, no men on that ship he had ever seen that way. He was sitting at his desk in his cabin, resting his chin over his hand as he was deep in his thoughts. His fingers running through his red beard, captain's log and nautical maps on his desk.
They would have landed in a few hours to gather supplies for a new hunt. This was going to be a successful and promising one.
Ryder had been following the tracks of the Santa Ana Maria for a few months now and after many unsuccessful quests, it seemed that they were finally on the right track, but the crew was tired and displeased and Worth's death had only made things worse.
The Santa Ana Maria was a Spanish Frigate armed with 46 cannons, not only it carried 10,000 Spanish Reals, but also the chart of the newest and most important commercial routes of Spain. And the latter was a prize Ryder was most determined to come to posses.
The Captain banged his fist on the table out of anger and frustration. He had to control it and control himself, the crew's loyalty was at stake, he could not lose himself or he would have lost everything. As he began to calm down he decided to go see Mr. Forrester.
Mr. Forrester was the head rower. He was just a few years younger than the captain, dark haired, tall and heavy muscled. Mr. Worth had always admired his loyalty and good qualities and often spoke of him as somebody the crew trusted almost as much as himself.
Ryder confidently walked through the gallery, looking for the man. He knew the crew was probably discussing and voting for the new quartermaster but he hoped to talk to Forrester alone.
Teegan. The Captain called him as he saw him a few meters from him. A word? He added, approaching him. Teegan was alone.

 
Timara, sheltered by the overhanging shadows of the nieghbouring warehouses, sliced the dagger through her long brown hair. She swallowed heavily, slicing the strands at the nape of her neck, letting the tresses fall. She would never live this down if they found her now. Cut hair was a mark of shame for a woman. Timara's hazel eyes narrowed and she pulled herself upright, who was she kidding? She would kill herself before she went back to him.
The girl, old for a first marriage, still had the swollen eye where he had hit her a week before. Bruises, of varying degrees of healing, littered her slight body. She sighed, quickly changing her skirt for a pair of breeches and stowing the skirt in a dim corner with the quickly kicked hair.
With her boyish frame, she could pass as a young lad, even more so as she shoved her roughly cut scalp under a squished hat.
Breathing deeply, she stepped back out onto the docks, now to find a ship that she could escape on.
A pair of watchmen strolled down the boardwalk, chatting amicably. Timara pulled her hat lower and nodded her head to them.
"Boy," One of the men barked.
Timara's shoulders tensed, her feet were suddenly glued to the ground, she took a deep breath and turned around.
"Sir?"
"Watch your tone lad. What are you doing down here anyway?"
Timara pulled at her cap again, "Lookin' for work, sir. Me ma's got three littlin' at home. She don't need ta feed me two."
The man studied the lad closely, "Very well, carry on, boy."
Timara bobbed her head, just catching herself from curtsying and hurried away as quickly as she could without running.
 
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