The Sea Dog and HMS Honour

Captain Roberts walked on the deck of his ship with pride. The Sea Dog had seen better days when it delivered sugar and tobacco to Havana and other Spanish islands from Port Royal and Kingston. That was during the ceasefire between the British and Spanish empires. One that lasted no more than five years. Most men were content with even that much, others itched for a fight. Not old Roberts though. In his fifth decade presently, he wanted nothing but the freedom to live life as he pleased. He had served King George half his life and where did it get him? No land to call his own, barely any shillings saved for a cow or a goat. Taxes went up soon as the war resumed, and many took to piracy again. Roberts was one of them. A curmudgeon fellow who took pleasure in barely anything. Piracy was a way of survival and revenge against the crown for him, but most of his crew were young lads, headed out to the sea in search of some notoriety and fame. Those who seek fame were idiots or nobles. Sometimes he wondered if the definition for the two should be merged. The sky was clear, and a cool breeze caught him across the face. The smell of the sea was one pleasure he allowed himself to bask in. His Captain cloak was made of brown silk and looked like the fur on the back of a hound. That was where he got his nickname. The Sea Dog. ''What kind of pirate is dumb enough to name his ship after himself?'' He asked himself for a moment.

His crew had not seen a fight in weeks, and he was pleased for it. The few schooners they plundered had surrendered easily. They would have been no match for a brig as famed as his. He approached the helm and tapped it with his fingers. The Quartermaster smiled at his captain as he continued to hold onto the massive wheel with precision.

''How goes the charter, Mack? Asked the old man with a raspy voice followed by a quick cough.

Mack, The Quartermaster got his name when he would not stop retelling an old story from his childhood where he knew a man that ate only mackerel and nothing else. A much younger man, Mack respected his Captain and when drunk would often shout from the depth of his lungs that he would die for the man if need be.

''It goes well Cap'n. We making good time. We'll be in Tortuga before the end of the week.'' Originally from Ireland, the man's accent had not completely disappeared.

''What will you be doing when we dock, eh Mack?'' The old man's smirk was not lost on The Quartermaster's eyes. ''You better not waste all your money on whores again.''

Mack stood aghast. ''Ah, you wound me, sir, Cap'n. Ya know I got a lass now.''

''A las, eh? Never thought I'd see the day. Mack Williamson settling down with a woman.'' With Mack, he could be at ease. He'd known him for years and for years the man had been loyal.

''A dark day indeed Cap'n. I S'pose the end is nigh'' He giggled.

''Good lad.'' Said Roberts with a pat on Mack's shoulder.

''Ship ahead!'' The shout coming from the bird's nest was loud and clear. Roberts jerked his head instinctively. His eyes deepened with worry.

''That's a British vessel. What's it doing here?'' The old man said with anxiety in his voice. Something felt off about that particular ship. What's worse, it was a frigate. Bigger and sturdier than their Sea Dog and with double the guns.

''I'll circle round it Cap'n.''

''You do that.'' Replied Roberts quickly.

A few manoeuvres from Mack and The Sea Dog charted its course around the hulking frigate. Putting enough space between the two should alert of a no engagement agreement with the captain of the far away vessel.

It did not work. The frigate moved to pursue. Captain Roberts was overcome with anxiety. But why. He'd fought against similar odds before. What was it that sent chills across his back now?

''They ain't lett'n us go Cap'n. Yer orders sir?''

With a sigh, Roberts closed his eyes momentarily and opened them in short while. A small prayer to a God he did not truly believe in. ''Move to engage.''

Mack rolled the wheel turning the ship to a ninety-degree angle. If the frigate was going to attack them, they might as well surprise it with a bombardment of cannon fire over its figurehead. The cannonball travelled at incredible speeds that if lucky, might hit the captain of the enemy ship and be done with it.

Soon enough the frigate drew nearer, and The Sea Dog was positioned with its right side toward it. Roberts watched carefully through his spyglass. The captain of the frigate stood at the helm of his ship, commanding, and shouting to his men with his cutlass drawn.

Roberts' sight had not been at its peak in a few years. Through gritted teeth, he shouted. ''Fire!''

The Sea Dog unleashed a monstrous growl of lead and smoke. Cannonballs flew across the blue sea water, illuminated by the raging sun. The expected follow-up was of wood splintering and men crying out in pain. But those never came. Instead, thumps and thuds. When checking closely, Roberts' heart sank, and he had to prop himself onto the ledge of the deck for support. The frigate resisted their volley as its hull was made of pure iron. At least most of it was. They placed the armour in precise locations where a cannonball may hit.

''What the dev'l?'' Said Mack, sharing the same reaction as his captain.

When the frigate showed signs of slowing down Roberts found the courage to rally his men. ''Prepare to be boarded! There're men on that ship who want to kill us all, boys! Are we gonna let them?''

His crew stared at him, shouting in unison as they unsheathed swords and cocked pistols. ''No!''

''Good! No more killing than necessary, understand?''

Some yammered and moaned but most nodded in agreement. Anyone willing to join them was welcomed by the captain.

The frigate stood at the ready as if settled next to The Sea Dog. Then without warning a row ensued. Shouting and gunfire erupted from the men across both ships as they engaged in a haphazard battle of swords and pistols, punches and kicks, even the swivels were used to some extent.

Mack drew his blade. The short-haired man glanced back at his captain one more time with his deep hazel eyes before heading onto the main deck to join the battle.

Somehow a ''pssst'' came from behind Roberts. He turned immediately only to see the captain of the enemy ship leaning against the ledge.

''You know, you should get those eyes checked sometime.'' He gave a disappointing glance.

The British military uniform told Roberts that the man before him was a decorated captain.

''King George grew generous, eh?''

The younger captain looked sideways at his own stripes. ''I suppose that's what I get for murdering a boatload of pirates.'' He took a deep breath. ''The King's praise.''

''I never got that, but I guess The King only rewards murder these days.'' Pounced Roberts.

''Ha! Don't tell me you're another one of these war protesters.'' The man seemed genuinely intrigued.

''No, lad. I just know what war does to the common folk.'' He said wistfully.

''Likewise.'' The man cleared his throat. ''My apologies. It's customary to give your name to a man you're about to kill. Captain Blake Argent of His Majesty's Honour.'' He paused for a moment. ''Now, shall we?'' He asked as his cutlass slid out of its sheath.

''If we must.'' Roberts sighed.

Their swords flew and waltzed across the quarterdeck. Metal grating against metal kept the two captains locked in fierce combat, their eyes sternly held onto one another. Both men's eyes shimmered with the colour of the sea as they swerved, swept and stung one another with the cold touch of steel in their hands. A blow above the head, followed by a parry from Roberts and a follow up hook across Argent's jaw. The man chuckled and rubbed his chin before leaping back into action. Cutlasses locking once more.

''Alright, enough of this charade.'' Said Argent seconds before revealing a concealed flintlock in his sleeve. The shot was heard by many and many saw their captain drop to one knee as the bullet crushed bone and tendon, decimating the old man's right leg.

With jolting pain from all the wounds received in his prematurely ended fight, Roberts gasped for air as his heart rate quickened. He knew what was coming but the important thing was how he would face it.

He allowed himself a wide grin. Who cared about keeping appearances in the face of death?

''The HMS Honour, eh?''

''Ha! There's no such thing as ''honour'' when fighting a pirate!'' Argent's eyes flared. ''I am keeping the honour of this great empire afloat by getting rid of your kind!'' He began slowly reloading the flintlock.

''Cap'n!'' Shouted young Mack as he raced across the ship to the aid of the man that was like a father to him. Though far he did not get. A giant man twice his size jumped in his path and dropped a hammering punch on his head, knocking out The Quartermaster with ease.

''Mack!'' The old man found himself attempting to shout, but the weakness of his voice would not allow it.

''Do not worry. Your crew will make for wonderful slaves.'' Argent reassured as his flintlock was once more ready to fire.

''Any final words or pleas, pirate?''

The gun barrel stood inches away from the old man's face. He knew all too well what would happen after the current incident, and he could barely hold in his laughter now.

Argent looked confused, he glanced at his crew and shrugged. ''Well? I haven't got all day.''

Through guffaws and chortles, Roberts answered. ''It's just… You don't know what's coming for you, eh?'' Another wave of laughter roared. ''You think I became a pirate out of my own accord. Oh no! He convinced me. As he convinced others. A dear friend of mine that I haven't seen in a while. His ideology stood out against that of the empire. And when he hears what you did here, and what you want to do to poor Mack. You think he will sit idly by, eh?''

A furious Argent smacked Roberts across the face before jamming the gun into his throat, ready to pull the trigger. ''Who?''

With a struggling voice, the old man let out one simple word that seemed to rattle and shake Argent to his core for a few moments. ''Rumlake!'' The gunpowder ignited and the bullet left the barrel, blood and skin tore off as the old man fell to the wooden deck with his eyes open and a smile on his face.

The contortion on Argent's face spoke of simmering hatred. ''I have been waiting, you bastard. I'll be ready for you this time.'' He muttered to himself as he stormed back onto the deck of The HMS Honour, taking the prisoners and putting The Sea Dog to rest into the ocean's embrace.

Captain Roberts, Mack and Blake Argent will return in the novel ''Rumlake''.