Hard Drinking, a Couple Stabbings, & Light Negotiations, or…How the Captain Lost a Wager to the Brother.
It was another successful ARC conclave. Nearly the whole ARC was in attendance. Captain Redbeard was regaling the crew with yet another of his classic drinking adventures. This one involved a badger, a canon, and “some exotic French beads” as the captain put it.
“Just call them what they are Captain!” Brother John quipped. “We’ll not judge your use of Benoit.”
The crew were silent for a moment until Captain guffawed. Then they all joined in the laughter.
The jovial atmosphere continued into the evening. After hours of hard drinking by the crew, an unexpected visitor joined the conclave.
“A message for Captain Redbeard and the ARC!”
Captain Redbeard stepped up to the messenger and took the parchment. After reading it over a couple times, he sighed then grinned.
“It seems we may have a chance to add to the choice of libations we have at the conclaves. It’s a request for us to smuggle something in exchange for barrels of prime Irish whiskey.”
“Why the sigh,” the quartermaster asked.
“I am to go to the negotiations with one other person. They also specifically asked for Brother John to be that person. Apparently, they want to also negotiate with the Bourbon Monastery.”
“Hmmpf!’
John clearly was not amused. Shaking his head, he approached the captain and reached for the parchment. The captain handed it over.
“It seems a little convenient they asked for me to be one of two negotiators, when they could actually just reach out to my brothers with less trouble then approaching the ARC. Smells like a set up.”
“So, you won’t be coming?” the captain asked.
“Don’t be silly, of course I’m coming. It should be fun. We might be able to get in some wenching if time permits.”
With that settled, they made preparations to head to Nassau. They set sail and settled in for the trip. They arrived in port a little after full noon. Giving them a few hours to rest before heading out at dusk. The captain gave the standard orders. Then he and John disembarked to a longboat. They met with the harbor master and paid the required bribe to the crown, with a little extra for the harbor master’s discretion.
They had barely walked for a full minute when the captain said, “You still seem anxious about this.”
“Well, every time the two of us are involved with negotiations we get stabbed.”
“We were only involved in negotiations once together. And if you recall, we stabbed each other, not likely to be the case this time.”
“My point still stands.” John said grumpily. “Hopefully, this goes quickly and smoothly so we can get to the fun part.”
“You know for a man of the cloth you sure have quite the libido.”
“All men of the cloth, have the same libido, I just do not hide behind oaths to seem more proper. We both also know my oaths to the Monastery are much different than is customary.”
The captain chuckled, “Aye, that I do my friend, that I do. Care to make a wager then?”
“Sure, I wager we both end up stabbed by the end of the night.”
“The usual amount?”
“Of course,” John stated with a grin.
After about half an hour the captain noted quietly, “We have some followers.”
“They’ve been there for a while now,” John whispered back.
“And you didn’t say anything?!”
“I assumed the illustrious Captain Redbeard noted them ten minutes before I did. I also did not want them to know I know they are there. Next crossway, I go right, you go left?”
“Now for the fun,” the captain chuckled under his breath.
At the next crossway, as they planned, the captain and the brother darted in opposite directions down the alleyways. Two of their pursuers followed John and 3 followed the captain. John sprinted a few yards into the alley and spun, staff at the ready. The two would-be muggers approached slowly from either side. Before they could close the distance, John moved in a blur of spinning staff and fluttering robes. He struck lefty in the windpipe with a sickening crunch and pivoted around him using him as a barrier between himself and the other attacker. Lefty dropped to the ground flailing and gasping but failing to breath his last breaths. Righty came on in a rush and was stopped dead by a well-placed staff thrust right below the sternum. Between his momentum and John’s strength, he impaled himself despite the bluntness of the staff. John shook the debris off his staff and turn to see how the captain faired.
When John approached, he stepped over two muggers bleeding out in the alley. He saw the captain backpedaling from an obvious blade master. However, the Captain had a wide grin on his face.
John also grinned as he stepped up and lightly tapped the swordsman on the shoulder with his bloodied staff. Startled, the swordsman turned to look. His final mistake to be sure, as the captain ran him through.
“Took you long enough,” the captain quipped.
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself, or was the grin fabricated?” He knelt down to clean his staff on the dead man’s clothes.
“I knew when only two followed you I wouldn’t have to fight the others solo for long. Always amazes me that you, a man…”
John cut him off abruptly, “if you make another man of the cloth comment, I will shit in your boots tonight.”
With that the Captain let out a belly laugh that echoed through the streets. “Let’s get going there are negotiations to be had, and apparently some stabbings.”
Finally, they reached the tavern where they were to meet with the mystery smugglers. They entered and noted that it was nearly empty. The Barkeep, a serving woman, and a couple of patrons at a table in the back. The patrons waved at the captain and John. They moved to the table and sat down.
“I am Cornelius Grant. This is my associate James. We would like for you to bring James to Havana and help smuggle several barrels of rum and tobacco out and back here.”
John noted heavy footsteps of several men coming from the kitchens. He noticed the captain seemed to be aware of them as well. They both stood quickly, spinning to the men weapons at the ready.
“In the names of King James of England and King Henry of France, we place you, John Sinclair under arrest.”
“The charges, this time?’ John inquired, barely restraining the laugher in his voice.
“Piracy, smuggling, impersonating the clergy, and added tonight, murder of the crown’s constables. Come quietly and there will be a trial. Resist and we have the authority to commute a death sentence here and now!”
“Sorry, I have an appointment with a bottle of bourbon and an African princess.”
The captain could not long contain his laughter with that. But was cut short by the sound of weapons drawn behind them.
Cornelius spoke, “Ah Captain, understand we are here for you as well, a two for one deal too good to pass up. Please, we do not want to spill blood in this poor tavern. Come quietly.”
John leaned into the captain and said, “Two in front and two behind, just another party, eh? Which do you want?”
“You can have the rear, ha-ha, since Cornelius clearly set this all up to bring you in.”
Before they could move, Cornelius lunged at John. If John had not had his head slightly turned, he would missed it and would have taken a sword through his back instead of just his shoulder. John roared with rage and he and the captain went into a flurry of staff and swords. After several moments of fevered clashes, only John, the captain, the barkeep, and the serving woman still stood. Well, the Barkeep and the serving woman were crouched behind the bar, but they lived.
John looked around, knelt down and took the purses from their assailants. He handed half to the captain and tossed one to the barkeep. “Sorry for the mess”
They cleaned their weapons and left the tavern. Stole two of the horses the constables had tied outside and rode to the harbor. They jumped into the longboat and head back to the Damned Promise. Upon embarking the ship John held out his hand expectantly. The captain dropped two coppers in the brother’s hand.
“How’d you know?”
John laughed before answering, “You forgot to wear your red shirt again. That swordsman in the alley was better than expected. I am going to my cabin for some bourbon and to stich up my shoulder. Yours should be fine with just a tight bandage.”
“Alright, good night, John.
“Oh, and Captain, the next wager will be for my own captaincy.”
They both laughed and parted ways to their personal cabins.
Written by John W.