Sea Legs
By Jillian Prueitt
I do not know the answer to this.
But I do know that my story is an epic, much like The Iliad or Beowulf. Much like those tales of Homer that I was so thankfully given to read in my life, so was my own story. I will tell you my tales of both woe and joy, and hopefully you may find pleasure in knowing my adventures before I reach the gallows.
Allow me to speak a bit more of myself in descriptions before I continue this story, as knowing what I look like should certainly make events more understandable. My skin is as dark as ebony, or writing ink; it is the darkest skin that someone of the living could possess, I have been told. I have always been tall, and large in stature. Though I didn’t perform the hard, rigorous tasks of tending to sugar, my arms were thickened over time, and I became muscular in form. My hair was kept to my shoulders for cleanliness, and always tied back, for it was crinkled and curled in an untamable way, and would often fall into my eyes as I worked. My nose is large and rounded, and my eyes have always been the color of the dirt I walked on. I was always clean and well-kept before my adventure started, but even afterwards I looked fairly the same.
Now, let’s continue. One fateful day my master received a letter from his home country of Spain; a relative wished to see him for a reason I do not know of. He loaded up a ship bearing many barrels ofAllow me to speak a bit more of myself in descriptions before I continue this story, as knowing what I look like should certainly make events more understandable. My skin is as dark as ebony, or writing ink; it is the darkest skin that someone of the living could possess, I have been told. I have always been tall, and large in stature. Though I didn’t perform the hard, rigorous tasks of tending to sugar, my arms were thickened over time, and I became muscular in form. My hair was kept to my shoulders for cleanliness, and always tied back, for it was crinkled and curled in an untamable way, and would often fall into my eyes as I worked. My nose is large and rounded, and my eyes have always been the color of the dirt I walked on. I was always clean and well-kept before my adventure started, but even afterwards I looked fairly the same.
Now, let’s continue. One fateful day my master received a letter from his home country of Spain; a relative wished to see him for a reason I do not know of. He loaded up a ship bearing many barrels of different sorts, and some sort of important paperwork that I also did not manage to see. He loaded his personal ship with things of comfort, and pulled me along to assist him in whatever meager task he needed done. He did not heed the words of local fishermen that warned him not to dwell in certain waters, as piracy was very prevalent, and our ship was a fair one. My master did not concern himself with their words, and ignored their advice completely, taking them for fools and liars. He took a route where the devious scalawags lingered, and we were easily overtaken.
They fired cannons and threw ropes to tie the ships together, anchoring themselves to our beautiful boat like barnacles on the backs of whales. They swung across the gap between the hulls and drew their swords in earnest. I was in my master’s cabin at the time when they raised their colors, and was told to stay there until he should tell me not to. He disappeared out of the cabin and to the deck, and I wasn’t sure just what was happening, but I heard the canons firing and knew that pirates had taken us. A few of the swashbucklers kicked in the door to my master’s cabin, and though I was not a fighting man, I had armed myself with a club that was kept beside the writing table. It was meant to threaten me originally, but I found it useful in defending myself. They bore swords, but I was able to get a few solid hits in before being overtaken. They forced me to the ground and tied my hands behind my back before leading me to the deck.
My master and the rest of the crew-members were all tied up as I was, though they were sat around the masts. I was pulled to the side due to my aggression toward the pirates. While I writhed in my bonds they stood and watched attentively as their captain walked across the gangplank and onto our ship.
He was fairly tall, though not surpassing my stature, with boots that had heels on them to accentuate his height. His hair fell in black waves at his shoulders, flowing like the ocean underneath us. His face had not been shaved in some time, and a piercing blue eye sat above a long nose; only one could be seen, as he wore a black patch over his right eye. His skin was pale, far too pale for him to be in good health, but his stride was confident, and the quirk of his mouth gave no sign of illness. The clothes he wore were comfortable, with large and expensive looking leather boots that made his gait powerful and dark pants with a beautiful, royal blue vest. His undershirt was white, but his coat is what caught my attention at first. It was black, as black as his hair and as black as the night time and extended to his knees in length. I thought it to be unbearable to wear it in this summer heat. He wore four pistols at his side, from what I could see, all of them neatly hanging from his leather belt. His hands were covered by stunning white gloves that looked far too out of place for his dark colors. I found myself staring at him and all of his delicate features as he smiled down at my beaten and bloodied crew-mates.
“Gentlemen,” he spoke, his almost English accent rolling off of his tongue eloquently. “I believe you’ve all managed to take a wrong turn! Don’t you know that these are my waters?” He drew a cutlass that was concealed under his coat, and pointed it toward my master and the crew-members of our ship. “Which one of you is in charge of this ship?”
There was hesitation at answering the question, but my master spoke up after a moment of biting his tongue. “I have chartered this ship to travel to Spain.”
“Ah. I see.” The pirate captain turned to a crew-member close to his side and muttered something to him. He trudged off and rounded up several other crew members to raid the ship of its valuables more thoroughly. The two scalawags that ensured I was kept from causing harm stayed by my sides, though. “I will thank you gentlemen for giftin’ me and my crew some most needed… supplies.” He gave a small laugh while several of the other pirates gave chuckles.
I shifted where I sat, uncomfortable by the impending doom we were faced with. I believe my movement caught the pirate captain’s eye, and he finally acknowledged my presence. “And who is this?” he questioned, heels clicking against the deck as he walked to me. “Why is he separated from the rest?”
The pirate to my left spoke up first in reply to his questions, “Just a slave we found hidin’ out in the cabin, captain. ‘E’s a fighter, so we thought best to keep ‘im away from the others.”
“He fought you both?”
“Actually there was five of us, the bastard’s got a good arm.” The man to my left gestured to the cut on his head, blood dripping down the side of his face. “Got me right here, in fact, and busted up the rest real good till we got ‘im down.”
I sat there quietly, not daring to interrupt them; I knew all too well the consequences of speaking when not being spoken to. The captain looked me over with his one eye, my hair was undone and sat wildly around my shoulders. I looked him over in return, a great fire of defiance burning in my chest. I glared at him through the ringlets of hair that fell into my eyes, the taste of blood helping to sour my gaze. My lip had been busted in the struggle somehow, and I had only started realizing it.
“A slave and a fighter, are you?” The captain looked at me with a small smile. “I hope you do realize that those two don’t mix very well…” He knelt in front of me, still giving me a smile. His lack of violence and apparent interest toward me was very odd. I still stayed quiet, though, not knowing how to address the situation at hand.
“What is your name?” he asked me with genuine interest, it seemed.
“Oliver.” I spoke with uncertainty, but my fear of this man was starting to dwindle. He held no ill will toward me, and revered me with kindness of the real kind. Which, to be quite honest, was not something I was very much used to.
“Tell me, Oliver, would you like to be free?” he inquired with a small tilt of his head. I was completely dumbfounded at the question, and glanced behind him toward my master. My master was infuriated that this pirate would even think of freeing me from my bonds, and he commenced throwing a fit over the whole ordeal.
“Stop! That is my slave! Don’t you think of getting your filthy hands on him after I paid good money for that welp!”
The pirate captain turned to him, and though I didn’t see his face, his voice alone was enough to terrify me. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he spat, poison practically dripping from his mouth as he did. My master quickly quieted himself, the color having completely drained from his face.
“Now, Oliver, would you please answer my question?” The captain once more turned to me, his smile returned to him.
I was met with quite the dilemma, and I struggled under the weight of his question. I was afraid that however I answered would end sour for me. If I said ‘no’ should he leave me here tied up with my master and be doomed to sink on this dreadful ship? And if I should say ‘yes’ should he whisk me away to some sort of life of plundering and scouring for riches from man-o-wars laden with gold? The latter did seem much more adventurous and worthwhile, thus I answered him honestly.
“Aye, I would…” I was still full of caution as I said it, but the words fell from my mouth nonetheless. I was able to glance at my master as I said it, and he looked as white as the sheets of his bed. It was very humorous to see him frightened by me, but the fear quickly shifted to a great rage that boiled beneath his skin. He scowled at me, his eyes screaming “Traitor!” as he did.
“I’m going to present you with an offer, dear Oliver. I will free you from the bonds of this man,” the captain gestured to his own ship; a sloop that looked in very well shape for being a pirate vessel. “And you will become a crew-member on my dear ship.”
“Is that freedom?” I said, shifting in my place on the deck. “It sounds to me like a contract.”
The captain looked to me, his eye bright and filled with no malice. “You’re very quick witted, aren’t you?” He rose to his feet and finally returned his cutlass to his belt. “Yes, it is a contract, but it will be as freeing as you should like it to be. I will need an answer soon. After all, we don’t have all day.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and thought on it for a moment. Anything would be better than dying alongside the man who has imprisoned me for the entirety of my life. I still shifted under the weight of the question, uncomfortable by the enormity of my decision. “Very well… I accept your offer.” I gave a small nod to accentuate my point, keeping in mind not to look toward my previous owner.
“Fantastic!” The captain clasped his hands together and looked toward the two crew-members on either side of me. “Take him aboard the ship, won’t you? To my cabin, if you don’t mind.” He began to turn to my once master and crew members, but stopped halfway. “Ah, tell Gabriel to write up a contract if you see him, as well.”
The two pirates began to pull me to my feet, they kept my hands bound, but led me to the gangplank to walk to the other ship. I gave a quick glance over my shoulder to the last strands of my old life. I was no longer going to be a slave, no, I would be a plunderer and thief, I would be a pirate. I saw the pirate captain give his speech to the doomed members of the ship I was once on, and caught a fleeting glimpse of my master’s eye. He was enraged, and I felt a great fear wash over me. I quickly turned my head back ahead of myself, and I stepped onto the pirate vessel with caution. Several crewmen looked toward me curiously. Their skin was kissed by the sun, but I was the darkest among them. Even some of the crew-members that had naturally darker skin as I did were lighter than me.
I was pulled down toward the captain’s cabin, which was rather spacious and comfortable compared to the captain's cabin on the other ship. There was a bed, and a curtain was pulled to expose it with it's quaint and comfortable appearance. There was a chest at the end of the bed and a dresser of sorts, and there were several papers scattered on the ground. After I gave a glance around the room I was met with a man that resembled the captain. His hair was lighter, only being a dark brown color instead of black, and pulled back into a tail. His skin was much more tanned, but his features looked strikingly similar to the captain’s. They had close to the same nose and eye shape and even his jawline was similar. His eyes were a very dark brown color as opposed to his blue, and they searched me in an almost disgusted way. He loomed over a desk with maps sprawled over it messily and the quill in his hand hovered over the map as if I had interrupted his task.
“Now what?” He spat, glowering at the two crewmen at my sides. He placed the quill back into an ink bottle and stood straight to look at us, shoulders rigid and stiff.
The same crew-member as before spoke up once more, “The Captain wants you to draw up a contract for this one.” He nodded to me, and I could feel the man's eyes staring right through me. He was assessing me, searching me for something. His eyes lingered on my bloody lip and on my clothes, and the scowl never left his face.
The man I could only assume to be the one the captain referred to as ‘Gabriel’ pinched the bridge of his nose. He opened his mouth as if to argue but quickly shut it back. He gave a shake of his head and looked toward me angrily. “Fine, fine, I’ll have that ready in a moment.”
He returned to his desks coated with papers and began to push them all to the side. He dug through a drawer to find a clean sheet of parchment before writing on it with his quill. He was nearly done with the page before a horrendously loud explosion was sounded, and the whole ship shook from it. Gabriel quickly grabbed the ink bottle to prevent it from spilling over his newly written contract. More explosions sounded, and all Gabriel did was roll his eyes and sigh heavily.
The captain barged into the cabin then, glee spread across his face. His boots clicked on the wood as he crossed over to my side. “Apologies for taking so long! They were a rather rough bunch.” It was then I figured out that they were destroying the other ship in it’s entirety, more than likely leaving it to sink eventually.
“Cannons? Matthew, we were running short on fodder to begin with-” Gabriel began to speak, but was only waved at dismissively.
“Worry not, we’ve stocked up on their stores. And I’m sure we’ll find a pretty price for all the things we found on their ship, as well.” Matthew clasped his gloved hands together and looked over toward me with a smile. “Now, has Oliver signed the contract yet?”
Gabriel shook his head and sighed once more, exasperated by his captain. “You know as well as I that you need to witness the signing.”
“Right, right, well, get on with it! We’ve got work to do! Let him loose lads, would you please?”
The ropes that bound my hands were untied, and I rubbed my wrists to return some of the feeling to them. Matthew, my soon to be captain ushered me to the desk. He seemed all too excited to receive a new crew-member. I began to think him a very odd sort in general. This man who looked to be the bringer of death was far too nice and gleeful to be of that sort.
“Do you know how to read and write, Oliver? Or at least spell your name?” He asked as he turned me to face the contract. He offered me the quill that Gabriel had once been holding, and I hesitantly took it into my right hand.
“I do.” I replied as I went to signing the contract. It was completely understandable that he should ask me that, as there were many that could not read. I only skimmed over the contract a bit, as it really didn’t matter much if I read it or not. It accompanied the usual sort of bindings, but did describe raises in pay for loss of limb, and the exact rations I should receive.
My captain then took the quill from me once I had finished, and signed his name above mine. I was unsure how to feel at the moment, and my palms became wet from my nerves.
I was now a pirate.
