Chapter 49: Every Legend Starts Small
Thatch crossed the deck as though he already owned half of it. He plucked an apple from the barrel Sawyer kept lashed beside the mainmast and bit into it before anyone had spoken a single word.
"You always board another captain’s ship and start helpin’ yerself?" James snorted.
Thatch shrugged. "Only when I’m confident he won’t make a fuss."
"Oh, I might yet."
"Aye?" Thatch looked him over. "Over an apple?"
"Nah." James smiled. "Over the habit."
Cudjoe let out a low grunt. "One o’ ye walks aboard like he owns the deck. The other starts barkin’ over fruit. Ye’re both a pain in the arse."
"I’ve been called worse," Thatch said.
"So’ve I," James replied. "Usually by him."
Cudjoe muttered. "And I’ve never been wrong."
James leaned against the rail. "How long are you plannin’ on hauntin’ my deck? Or did you come to make certain I behave myself while ye’re gone?"
"Babysittin’?"
Thatch snorted. "I’ve a ship to sail and Nassau waitin’ on me, Calloway. I’m not lingerin’ here to watch you count days at anchor."
"Pity. I was just about to start chargin’ you rent."
Cudjoe let his gaze drift across the water to the Revenge. She rode low and neat at anchor. He watched her a heartbeat longer than necessary, like a man judging a horse he never intended to buy, then looked away without voicing whatever had crossed his mind.
James broke the silence. "Nassau treatin’ you kindly these days? Or’s it still two roosters in one yard, struttin’ about and waitin’ for the other to blink first?"
Thatch gave a lazy shrug. "Hornigold and Jennings’ll sort themselves out. They always do. Yard’s never big enough for two roosters. One always loses feathers before the other even notices he’s missin’ any."
James let the words linger.
He already knew how that story ended. He knew which man would keep his crown and which would end up stripped of everything. From where he stood now, with years of knowledge tucked away in his head, the feud looked strangely small. Both men still believed the whole yard depended on who crowed the loudest tomorrow.
Cudjoe snickered. "Two grown men squabblin’ over who gets tae be unpopular first. Dinnae understand why anybody bothers pickin’ sides."
"I fly Hornigold’s colors when it suits me." Thatch laughed. "Doesn’t mean I lose sleep wonderin’ which of them ends up king of a sandbar."
"So you’ve no skin in the fight?"
"None I’d admit to in front of present company."
James smiled. "Then what is worth losin’ sleep over, if it isn’t bein’ somebody’s favorite captain?"
Thatch’s eyes drifted toward his own ship. "For men like us? A bigger ship, with more teeth than I’ve got now. A hull that makes kings stop wavin’ their fleets around like they’re God’s own prick."
James gave a low whistle. "Careful. Last man I heard talkin’ about teeth that big was compensatin’ for somethin’."
"Aye, and my somethin’ carries sixteen guns and a mortar."
Thatch’s grin spread wider. "Give it time, Calloway. One day I’ll stand aboard a ship that’ll make the Revenge look like a rowboat dreamin’ above its station."
"Aye. Well. She’s not there yet."
"No." Thatch seemed entirely unbothered. "Not yet."
James said nothing.
He tucked the moment away anyway. There was a certain weight in watching a man reach toward a future James already knew he would claim. He also knew what that future would demand in return. Those days still lay years ahead, and none of that knowledge belonged in anyone else’s hands.
"And you?"
Thatch looked back at him. "What’s Calloway after once Mobile’s behind us and the silver’s spent?"
James watched the water a moment.
"Somewhere that’s mine. Somewhere out of the way. Nobody’s bothered claimin’ it."
He shrugged. "Doesn’t even need a name."
"That’s all I’m gettin’?"
"That’s all yer gettin’."
James grinned. "A man’s got to keep a few cards face down, or where’s the fun in playin’ the next hand?"
Thatch huffed a short laugh. "Fair enough. I’ll allow it, seein’ as I kept a few of mine face down not five minutes ago."
Cudjoe shot James a sharp look.
"Ye’re tellin’ pirates about yer plans now, Captain. Bold strategy."
"He started it."
"He always does."
Cudjoe shook his head. "And ye always finish it. Dinnae know which o’ ye I trust less."
Thatch laughed, loud and completely unconcerned. He tossed the apple core over the rail, where it disappeared into the bay below.
"Light’s goin’. Tide’s with me if I leave now."
"Try not to sink on the way back."
"Try not to get eaten by whatever lives in that swamp."
Thatch swung himself onto the rail. "Pleasure doin’ business, Calloway. Cudjoe."
"Off with ye, then."
Thatch dropped into the gangway. Before his boots even found the bottom, he was already barking orders to his crew unloading the cargo in the harbor.
Cudjoe watched he walk away.
Then he turned back to James, "One day, Captain, ye’re actually goin’ tae tell me what’s rattlin’ about in that head o’ yers."
James smiled.
"I might."
"I’ll mark the date. Right beside the one where pigs learn tae reef a topsail."
He turned for the hatch.
James let him have the last word.
Pensacola still rested across the water exactly as it had all afternoon. Heat shimmered above the rooftops. The fort’s flag drooped in the air, looking as though it had given up fighting with the wind hours ago.
He’d called the place the Devil’s rental property on the morning, and the longer he looked at it, the more certain he became that he’d been right.
There were still days before the mortar arrived. After that would come more waiting before the Rose finally turned her bow toward Mobile and whatever waited for them there.
James let out a slow breath.
Then he devoted himself to hating the wait properly.
That would last until tomorrow. After that, he’d have to find some side job to do before idleness killed him outright. Pensacola couldn’t be entirely devoid of amusement. Somewhere in that little town there had to be a card game worth winning, a tavern worth drinking dry, or a Spaniard foolish enough to mistake him for a respectable man.
He’d just have to make certain his own lot remembered they were visitors. The last thing James needed was the crew treating Pensacola like Nassau and discovering exactly how much trouble a handful of bored pirates could cause before supper.
