Tales from the Caribbean: The memoirs of Captain Cognito.

Narrated by Captain Cognito.

July 1676… on the Tortuga dockside, a group of seafarers, pirates, adventurers, and common townsfolk were gathered, listening to an old buccaneer who stood atop a barrel...

"Ahoy mateys, nice ta see such an assortment 'o scurvy flea-bitten buggers still takin' an' interest in an' ol sea dogs tales.
The yarn I'm about to tell ye is about me mate Cap'n Crash, 'an how I first met him in this very town.
Twas a long time ago, just after me 'n me ol' mates, Mad Moose, Dave E Jones, Admiral Tew, and Henry Morgan returned from our ill-fated trip to Belize.
Some 'o ye may already know all about dat tale… about how we defeated a Spanish Armada sent ta capture Tortuga… how we attacked 'n took Cartagena wit nay more'n four ships… visited Santa Catalina before the blimmy Sisterhood Alliance over-ran the place… and finally met our untimely demise to the treacherous Ol'Man on dat god-forsaken island 'o treasure.
Anyhow, fer those 'o ye dat aint familiar wit that particular yarn, ye can read all about it some time by visiting the Silver Sloop Tavern not a hundred paces from here.

So me hearties, where to begin?
Well, I suppose some 'o ye 'r wantin' ta know all about this Cap'n Crash I mentioned? Well he be the owner 'o the Ye House 'o Pyrates tavern, just over yonder… actually… he used to own the place before the silly sod lost it in a game 'o dead eye poker… anyhow… Crash be a fine teller 'o stories an' he regularly came back to Tortuga where upon he'd spend many hours recounting his fine adventures. Ye can familiarise yerself wit his tales by visitin' the Ye House 'o Pyrates. His tales have been preserved fer all time an' yer more'n welcome to have a read 'o 'em.
Ye see mateys; it was about a week after arriving back ta Tortuga from Belize, that I first met Crash. The old bugger had just returned from San Juan where I over heard him talkin' bout a townhouse full 'o stolen jewels he had over thar.
He recognised me 'o course, since me 'n me fore-mentioned mates where kinda famous around town. Defeating an Armada and takin' Cartagena are no mean feats, I can tell ye!… and word of our exploits were already well known… Anyhow, we shook hooks 'n ordered a few bottles 'o rum and began talking as if we'd know each other fer years. Despite bein' a scurvy bastid, he's a friendly bugger is Crash.
The fella was tellin' me bout them jewels I mentioned an' how they came inta his possession. Told me bout the slimy traitorous wench, Joanna Galoise, dat had been chasing a bounty on ol' Crash's head fer years, an' how he almost ended up in the locker thanks to her.
Well me hearties, the tale goes something like this…….."

"Twas thirty-five years ago to this very month that Crash 'n I first met. We talked fer hours, 'bout our adventures 'n exploits. Crash was like any good pirate - a greedy merciless bastid dat would sell his own grandmother fer the right price… infact he'd even sell her fer the wrong price… in fact, he'd just sell her. He'd recently returned from dat vile Spanish 'ell hole San Juan where he'd hidden a few chests 'o stolen loot in a lil' townhouse 'e owned thar. But a look 'o concern spread across 'is pox-ridden face as he told me about a scurvy good-fer-nottin' wench that'd been tryin' ta fillet him fer years. Her name be Joanna Galoise, or Poison Lips as he liked to call her, a purdy African wench from what he said. Apparently the hag had been part of his crew, but betrayed the good Cap'n durin' a raid on Maracaibo. Poor ol' Crash almost ended up in Davey Jones' Locker thanks to her treachery. Crash ne'er told me why the whore turned against him… just dat she come close to taking the Cap'ns head on a couple 'o occasions since dat fateful raid. "Coggy, she's becoming a real pain da butt!" he told me.
Anyhow, after a few more hours on the grog, we got ta talkin' 'bout dem jewels again. He could see I was right interested in da hoard 'e bragged about, 'n I'll admit, I was curious as ta know exactly where in San Juan dey be… just on the off-chance dat ol' Crash finally succumbed ta Ms Poison Lips' blade some fateful night ye see! Be a darn shame if'n no one knew where all dat loot be… I mean… someone had ta claim it if'n Crash didn't live ta see his next birthday… didn't they?
Anyway, as I was sayin', Crash talked some more bout his plans ta rid hisself 'o dat whore once 'n fer all, and dats where I became even more interested in what the git was sayin'. Fer in not so many words, the good Cap'n offered me a share 'o dem jewels if'n I 'elped him track down Galoise 'n send her merrily on her way to ol' Davey's Locker. "Harrr! Crash, ye sorry bugger ye!" I laughed… "Dis wench 'o yers must be the divil-woman herself if'n yer asking a Brethren ta 'elp ye kill her!" I goaded.
"Cog's ya bleedin' fool! Ye don't know her like I do" he retorted… "The bleedin' tramp is da best darn fencer in the Indies… she'll cut yer nuts off 'n serve 'em to ye on a silver platter before ye even flinch!… She's killed more men than ye an' I both, an' da hideous whore has got torturing a man ta death down to an art-form… I got scares ta prove it!" he said.
I must admit, the look on ol' Crash's face as he mentioned such tings had me a lil' concerned. I's sure the bugger feared dat demon whore more dan dyin' in some god-fersakin gibbit off executioners rock.
After a few moments of tinkin' o dem nice shiny jewels, I finally agrees ta 'elp me Brethren wit his problem. "Ok Crash, tis yer call mate" said I. "Whaddya have planned?… an' more importantly, how big a share do I get when we've finally gutted the bitch?" I asked.
A wry smile came across ol' Crash's face as the anxiety within him soon dispersed on hearing me words… "Arrr Cogs, yer a good bastid ye are… I knew yee'd help a fellow scumbag… as fer yer share, I'll give ye a fifth 'o me hoard once I'm wearin' Galoise's teeth as a necklace" he said.
"Make it a third mate, and I'm in!" said I.
At this, the smile on me mates' face dropped a lil' an' he gave me a frown… "A quarter 'n nay more!" he growled… "I went through 'ell ta get dem stones…" he started, before I held out me hand…
"OK Crash, ye got yerself a deal" I interrupted.
Crash said no more that night, he just gave me a sly grin, spat in his scurvy paw 'n grasped me outstretched hand. We shook on tha deal, finished our last tankard 'o rum, an' retired fer the night.

Leaving the Ye House 'o Pyrates Tavern, I ventured out into the night air and wandered down the cobbled street dat led to the main dock. Lookin back at the old tavern, I noticed a shadowy figure at one of the upstairs windows… but before I could get a good glimpse 'o the git, the room light dimmed and the figure merged into the darkness.
A warm gentle breeze blew in from the harbour causing the numerous lanterns to sway ever so slightly in the night air and my attention soon drifted elsewhere. Tortuga was sleepin', and as I made me way along the dockside to the ol' Silver Sloop, me black 'eart was filled with joy again just tinking' 'o dat loot… After all, it'd only been a week since I'd lost me precious hoard to dat vile 'n traitorous Ol'Man near Belize.

Opening tha door to the Silver Sloop, I stepped into the dimly lit room. Tha place was silent, except fer ol' Dave E Jones, who lay in a drunken slumber across his favourite table snoring his head off, and the sweet chime 'o empty rum bottles being collected by one 'o the tavern wenches.
Tippin' me hat to the lady, I made me way up the old oak stairs, entered me room, an' slumped down on to me bed. Wasn't long 'afore I was in me own dreamy slumber… but unlike the drunken Jones in the room below, I was dreamin' 'o jewels 'n treasure - and not about bathing in a vat 'o ale.

The next mornin' I awoke early. The gulls had seen ta that. Thar constant screechin' 'n squawkin' was an annoyance at times, but on this mornin' the familiar sounds I heard outside me window where kinda soothin'. After such a long and arduous journey as me last one, lookin' out across the calm waters 'o Tortuga bay, and listening to them gulls, and seein' the good townsfolk go about thar daily business, made me feel good. I was home… even though I was a native 'o merry ol' England… Tortuga was the place I belonged.
A knock on me bedroom door drew me attention an' with a touch 'o caution, I hastily got dressed, removed a pistol from me belt, and slowly opened the door ta see who it be.
Even in the Pirate haven 'o Tortuga, tis wise to keep yer guard up. After all, this place be the centre point fer all the villainous scum in the Caribbean.
The door opened slightly, an' through the gap I saw a familiar lookin swab… in fact… I saw two familiar lookin swabs.
"Morning Cap'n" came the greeting. I opened the door and standing there was a couple 'o tavern regulars, Blackhawk, and his brother Ben Avery.
"Arrr, wot can I do fer yew two unsavoury buggers?" asked I, not lowering me pistol fer an instance.
Even though I knew 'em ta be harmless sods at best, I was still wary. I'd recently been betrayed by the Ol'Bastid an' wit Crash's tale about Poison Lips Galoise still fresh in me mind, I wasn't about to take any chances.
"Arrr, Capten Goggy, der be no need fer dat" called Avery on seein' me suspicious expression… and loaded pistol pointed his way.
"Aye Cogs, we're just here ta offer ye our services!" added Blackhawk.
"Eh? Whadday talkin 'bout?" I asked.
"We's heard yer shippin' out whit Capten Crash… got another expedition to the Main planned we heard… thar's someone down der that Crash not be takin' kindly to" explained Avery.
To say I was tad pissed was an understatement. Aint nuffin' a secret in dis place? I asked meself. "Which git told ye that?" I asked, puttin' me pistol away.
Before waitin fer an answer, I tidied meself up, and made me way out 'o the room, down the stairs an' back inta the bar room… Blackhawk 'n Avery in close pursuit.
"Capten, ye know nottin' stays a secret in dis place fer long!" called Avery as the two swabs tried to keep up.
"Barrrmaaid!!" I yelled. "Git me some breakfast - the usual if'n yew please"
"So how bout it?" asked Blackhawk, as the two swines pulled up a chair 'n without invitation, sat 'emselves down at me table.
"How bout what?" asked I, with growing annoyance.
"Ye know, yer……lil' 'problem'" whispered Avery, tryin' ta keep secret what he knew.
"Why ye whispering?… thar's no bugger 'ere cept ol' drunken Davey an' the tavern wench" said I.
I wasn't about ta give these two unsavoury sods the impression I had somethin' ta hide. I didn't want the whole 'o Tortuga ta know mine 'n Crash's plans - especially if'n what Crash told be bout this Galoise wench being true. She apparently had eyes and ears in every port. So tryin' ta act all casual like, I hoped ta git these two nosy sod's off the trail.
"We's heard ol' Crash has got himself a bounty hunter after him, and dat yee've struck a deal ta help him track the girl down…" explained Blackhawk.
"Well, ye know more than me then, don't ye!" I interrupted.
The two swabs sat back and looked a lil' disappointed at me abrasive mood. Speaking in some god-fesakin' foreign language, Dutch I think, the ignorant bastids talked amongst 'emselves fer a moment 'o two.
"Do ye mind?" I asked, as I brought the swabs' attention to the approaching tavern wench. "I'd like ta eat me grub in peace" A piping hot breakfast o' fried bacon 'n eggs lay before me.
"Arrr, apologies Cap'n" replied Blackhawk as the two men tipped their hats and got up to leave.
"Maybe you'll change yer mind… if'n ye do, we'll be about town… Capten" called Avery, with a touch of disappointment ringing in his voice. With that, the men left the tavern - leaving me to eat me grub in peace, well almost… Davey Jones' constant snoring irritated me to no end.

I felt uneasy bout them two swines… something didn't feel quite right bout our brief encounter. Finishing me grub, an' gulpin' down some ale, I got up 'n wandered over to where the still unconscious Davey Jones lay.
"Wake up Davey!" I called 'afore pourin' a few dregs of rum over his slobberin' face. Davey stirred a lil', licked his lips, and went back ta sleep. "DAVEY!!" I yelled… "Time ta wake up lad… ye told me ta wake ye on Tuesday…. Its Friday 'n yee've over-slept again" said I.
Getting no more response from the slob, I left him to his dreamy drunken state, and made me way out of the tavern and along the dock.

Later that morning I stood on the gangplank leading to me battered old Sloop.
Grim Reaper was in a bad way. Her run-in with Artruro Vengaza's Spanish War Galleon had cost me dearly. The main mast was gone, her hull was peppered with gaping holes, and the entire deck was a mass off broken and burned debris. Twas a miracle the hardy ship ever made it back from that fateful encounter. What remained of me crew, all eight of them, had spent the week recuperating from our recent adventure. But now that I had another hoard to go after - namely me share of Crash's gems - I soon got the scurvy swabs back ta work and ordered 'em to get the ol' tub sea-worthy again. In the meantime, I wandered up to the Ye House of Pyrates and a meeting with me new business partner.

Entering the tavern, I soon saw the fella. "Crash!" I called. The Captain was stood talkin' wit an old officer of his, Jack th' Slimy.
"Arrr, Cogs, c'mere mate" he replied. "Ye know Jack don't ye?" he asked.
"Aye, he's the proprietor 'o dis very place aint he?" said I as I tipped me hat to the man.
"That he be Cap'n" answered Crash.
I shook the fellas hand and complimented him on the fine ales he stocked. "Don't talk much does he?" I remarked.
"Haarrrr, dats cause the swine don't have no tongue!" laughed Crash. Jack th' Slimy gave a toothless grin and opened his mouth. Sure enough, the poor bastid had a hideous piece 'o torn flesh where his tongue would be. "Wanna know how he lost it?" asked Crash on seein' me intrigued look. "Galoise the whore bit it off cause ol' Jack 'ere wouldn't tell her where I was! Happened a couple 'o years back in Nassau… that's loyalty fer ye Cogs!…the bastid condemned to a life 'o silence cause he wouldn't betray his Cap'n" explained Crash as he patted the man on the shoulder.
After few moments 'o niceties, Crash ushered me over to a secluded part of the room while Jack th' Slimy went about his daily business of running the tavern.
"Crash, I's just had a run-in wit a couple 'o Dutch buggers. Avery, and dat Blackhawk git" I explained. "The sods seem ta know a lil' bout our plans! Now how da 'ell did that 'appen? Ye been blabbin' yer mouth off?" asked I, with frustration.
Crash remained silent fer a moment, scratched his stubbled chin and answered, "Aint got a bleedin' clue mate! I've had dealings wit Blackhawk before… he's an unsavoury sod fer sure…"
"Well how da 'ell do they know so much already?.. who else knows bout all o' dis?" asked I..
Again Crash remained silent fer a moment 'o two… "No one knows Cogs… no one…. Just ye, me 'n ol' Jack thar" he said.
Slowly turning me head to face the barkeep, I noticed the swab givin' us a sly glance… "Are ye sure ye can trust him Crash? Mebbe he mentioned it to someone…" said I, not taking me eye of the distant figure.
"How? He's a bleedin' mute! The bugger aint spoke a word fer nigh on two years, and even if he could he's the last sod on earth that'd let slip me plans…. He hates Poison Lips as much as I does" retorted Crash, with a touch of anger at me suggestion.
"Arrr, mebbe yer right" said I, as I turned to face me mate once more… "But someone's blabbed cause those two Dutch fellas seemed ta know something"
"Did ye say one 'o the gits was named Avery? Ben Avery?" asked Crash, with intrigue.
"Aye, they're kinfolk… brothers I think"
"Damn!… mebbe that explains it!" said Crash… "Avery's been renting a room here…. The swab's probably been listening in ta tings dat he has nay business wit!" sighed Crash.
Scratching me chin, my thoughts of the previous night came back to me… "Arrr, I tink yer right… 'Appens when I left here last evening, I see's a swab standing at the window upstairs as I made me way to the dock. The git looked a lil' suspicious at first, but I ne'er gave it a second thought at the time" explained I.
"I bets ye a piece 'o eight twas Avery hisself" added Crash.
Just at that moment, Jack th' Slimy approached with a couple of ales. Mumbling something unintelligible, he nodded towards a tavern window, thus bringing our attention to two familiar figures outside.
"Speak 'o da friggin' divil!" said Crash as he stood up and made his way to the window.
Thanking Jack fer the ale, I quickly followed Crash. We stood either side 'o the window - peering through to the folks outside.
Blackhawk and Avery where unaware of being watched. The two buggers where busy discussing something with a group of unsavoury lookin' sods.
"Whaddya reckon Cogs?" asked Crash.
"They're up ta nay good, dats as plain as day" said I.
We watched the gathering disperse into the hustle and bustle of Tortuga and made our way back to our ale.
"Right mate, I reckons we gotta "dispose" 'o dem two - else word 'o yer plans regardin' Galoise could fall on da wrong ears" said I.
Crash took a swig of ale, and nodded.

That afternoon, Crash had sent Jack th' Slimy into town, to keep an eye on Avery 'n Blackhawk, while I returned to me ship ta over see her repairs. Crash was over at Cap'n Jon's residence speakin' with the man himself.
"Arrr Crash! Ye ol' sod! How ya doin' matey, 'n what brings ye out 'ere?" called the gleeful Jon on seeing his old shipmate.
"Ahoy!" replied the Captain, "I's come ta ask ye a lil' favour"
"Favours, eh?… well come inside 'n I'll see what I can do" said Jon as he invited the pirate indoors.

Meanwhile, aboard me Sloop, I watched me eight miserable men continue ta repair the ship. "Cap'n, as ye can see, we's havin' trouble getting the mast fixed… damn bleedin' landlubberin' shipwright didn't seem ta want ta know when we went 'n asked fer his services…" moaned one.
"He didn't, eh?… What tha frigs goin' on?" I barked.
Storming off me tub, I made me way along the dock to the local shipwright's workshop. The git didn't notice me at first, but as I grew closer, he stopped what he was workin' on, rapidly got up, and slammed the large wooden doors to his workhouse shut. As I reached 'em, I could here the swine inside bolting 'em closed then scurrying off ta hide someplace.
"Open up, ya miserable fool!" I yelled - tryin' ta boot the doors open.
This fella musta had some sort 'o death wish ta treat me like some common landlubber. "Open up, or I'll gut yer filthy carcass 'n feed yer stinkin' innards to the gulls…" but before I could finish off me insult, a loud explosion from behind me shook the whole warehouse an' sent a thousand screeching gulls skywards! The whole of Tortuga seemed ta be rocked to its foundations!
After gatherin' me composure, I see's through the nearby smoke 'n debris dat me beloved Sloop be the source 'o dat commotion!
"Bleedin' Nora!" I barked, and without further a do, I runs back to her berth. Twas a sight ta see mateys… me famous lil' ship be in a right bad way. At first I hadn't got a blimmy clue what 'appened, but then a couple 'o bedraggled lookin fellas emerged from the mess 'an started blabbin' bout some git rolling a lighted barrel 'o powder down the gangplank 'afore scarperin' inta town.
I 'elped me two surviving sod's off the ship as numerous townsfolk came rushin' over ta 'elp douse the flames. "I'll gut da bastid wit me rustiest, bluntest, cutlass!" cursed I.
I got me two survivors away from the dockside 'n elped dust the buggers down. They be covered in splinters, had singed hair 'n beards, and a few cuts 'n bruises, but apart from dat, the two lucky gits seemed ta be in one piece.
"Cap'n look!" called one 'o me fellas. Turning ta face the direction he was pointing, I see's none other than Jack th' Slimy cowerin' behind a few crates 'o goods beside a nearby warehouse!
Without sayin' a word, I drew me sword 'n with a swift pace, I approached the git. "Yew traitorous swine! I'm gonna gouge yer friggin' eye's out!…" yelled I as I reached the man. But just as I raised me sword, Jack gave a muffled groan and fell to me feet holdin' his belly!
Cautiously turning the swab over with me foot I soon realised this sod wasn't the one I should be lookin' fer. Fer the poor tongue-less bastid had a dagger embedded in his gut!
I could see the mute was still breathin', so without hesitation I called across to me two shipmates ta go get 'elp.
"Jack, can ye hear me?" asked I, leaning over his pale face. But the geezer just mumbled 'n groaned a lil'. Realising the poor bugger couldnae tell me who knifed him even if he had a tongue, I remained silent 'n knelt beside him tryin' ta stem the bleedin', while at the same time I kept' a wary eye out fer whoever done this dastardly deed.

Back at Jon's place, Crash had finished explaining his growing concerns regarding Joanna Galoise. And since the two pirates were good friends, Jon promised ta keep his ol' shipmate informed should word of the hag reach him or his associates.
Crash swiftly made his way back into town to find me, an' as he approached the Ye House 'o Pyrates, he was greeted by me good self, a local surgeon, an' a group 'o kind folks carryin' the bloodied Jack th' Slimy on a makeshift stretcher.
"Whhaa… What da frig!!" yelled Crash.
"Don't even ask, mate!" I replied. Crash could see by the expression on me face that it looked bad fer his mate. The surgeon had since removed the dagger, but time was short ta save the poor mute from an untimely trip to the locker.
"Hurry!…" yelled the surgeon as he ushered the stretcher-bearers inside the tavern. A few locals inside the barroom soon dispersed on witnessing the on-coming commotion.
Quickly dragging a couple 'o tables tagether, ol' Jack was gently laid out across 'em and the surgeon got ta doin' his craft.
"Gotta let the doc do his job mate, thar's nowt we can do…" said I, pattin' the still shocked Crash on his shoulder.
We left the tavern that moment, and wandered back out into the open air. Crash was dazed, that much I could see.
Jack th' Slimy was his most loyal mate, an' ta see the poor sod so close ta death's door was a lil' too much ta take.
"He'll… he'll be ok… won't 'e Cogs?" he mumbled.
"Aye, he's a sturdy sod, fer sure. The doc 'ill have him all sewed up in nay time 'n he'll be servin' ale within' a week!" I said, trying ta console me miserable mate.
"But how… what 'appened?" asked he once more.
"All's I know is dat I was over at the shippys when me friggin' boat gets blowed up!" said I, "I gets on over there 'n a crewman tells me some bugger deliberately pushed a lighted powder keg aboard her 'afore scuttling off like some cowardly wharf rat... I noticed ol' Jack thar hidin' in the shadows 'n I thought he was the treacherous swine dat did it…. But as ye can see, the poor bugger took a guttin' ta someone else's blade… so I reckon he either saw what 'appened 'n went in pursuit 'o da friggin powder monkey, or he got knifed 'afore he could stop 'em doin' such a despicable act…" explained I, trying to piece together what happened in me mind…
After a few moments, Crash seemed to come to his senses as he thought about me words… "Ye tinkin' what I's tinkin?" he asked.
"Aye mate, I tink I am!" said I. And without further a do, we went back inside the tavern to check on the surgeon's progress before vowing our revenge on Avery 'n his brother…

Twas late that night when the surgeon gave us the news we hoped ta hear, "He's going be ok, Sirs… he lost a lot of blood, but the good man is as strong as an Ox and should make a good recovery." said he.
I paid the fella in silver coins 'n Crash thanked him fer his efforts.
"He needs plenty of rest… so I don't think he'll be serving ale for a long time to come" added the surgeon as he left.
We took ol' Jack upstairs and laid him on his bed. "I don't tink we'll get much out of him, Coggy" explained Crash.
"Aye, I know. But I reckon we both have suspicions dat Avery or Blackhawk had something ta do with this… and I reckons the local shipwright could be in on it too!" replied I.

Hiring a local maid to look after and nurse Jack back to health, Crash and I soon turned our thoughts to other matters.
We made our way back down to the bar room and dimmed the light within. After the commotion earlier that day, Tortuga was peaceful once more. And through a few broken clouds, bright moonlight lit up the harbour - leaving a shimmering silvery glow across the calm waters.

Later that night Crash told me about his visit with Cap'n Jon. "Jon's gonna keep me informed if'n he ever hears news 'o Poison Lips' whereabouts… he's got connections all over the Caribbean… from Trinidad ta Sisal…"
"Aye, but I tink we should be lookin' closer to home, mate" said I as I looked through the window and out across the silent harbour.
"Whaddya mean Cogs?" asked Crash.
"Well, the attack on me ship was obviously a ploy ta keep us in port… so the question is… whoever did it knew we was about ta go lookin' fer Galoise, or…"
"…or Galoise is already on her way to Tortuga, and wants us to remain put!" said Crash - finishing me sentence.
"Ye know her Crash… I don't… Do ye think she's got agents here 'n they're aware 'o our plans?" I asked.
"Well… now that I've had time ta reflect on what's happened, I wouldn't be surprised. It smells like it ta me… all dis sneakin' about 'n shadowy figures is definitely her style" said he.
Crash removed an elegant pipe from his tunic, filled it with tobacco, and lit it. "Wanna try it? Tis the finest Cuban tobacco I picked up from me last visit thar" said he.
"Nay thanks mate, I'll stick ta rum 'n ale… heard tobacco be bad fer yer 'ealth" said I.
After a few moments of contemplation, and a few puffs on his pipe, Crash continued…"So mebbe Avery is working fer her after all… and overhearin' our lil' conversation the other night, he's got word to her?"

After a long pause, I got up 'n removed me spare pistol from me belt. Handing it ta Crash, I said, "Better sleep wit this under yer pillow tonight… I don't tink we'll have much trouble this evening since whoever's behind all 'o this will no doubt know we's on alert… but ye can never be too careful mate"
"Aye Cogs"
"Tomorrow, we'll take a lil' visit to the friggin' shipwright 'n "persuade" the bugger to talk… I gots a feelin' he know tings that we should" said I.
Finishing me ale, I bid the Cap'n goodnight 'n headed back to the Silver Sloop to retire fer the evening. 

Twas a lil' after three in the mornin' when I awoke suddenly. Not by a noise or sudden movement, but by a feelin' dat somethin' weren't quite right. I can't explain to the lubbers amongst ye what made me feel uneasy that night, but the seafarers will know what I'm talkin' bout. Pirates have some sort 'o natural instinct ta sense danger… well… tha ones dat live long enough ta recognise it do.
Anyhow, this night me instincts didnae let me down, fer within a few minutes o' me opening me eyes I could jus' make out the faint glow 'o lantern light shining through the gap beneath the door - quickly followed by creakin' floor boards and whisperin' voices.
Without makin' a noise, I quickly got out 'o me bed and grabbed me breaches, tunic, 'n boots before removin' me sword.
Cautiously, I prised open a window and peerin' inta the street below I saw not a soul… so seizin' me chance I clambered through the opeining 'n dropped down to the ground and waited fer a moment 'o two. I wasn't sure how many fella's where outside me room above, but by the sounds 'o those whispers I heard, twas more'n two fer sure.
Within a minute, I heard a loud bang from above as the door to me room was booted off its hinges! - Quickly followed by 2 pistol shots! I crouched hidden in the shadows below 'n listened to the brief commotion unfold - knowing all too well dat I'd escaped an untimely demise by sheer luck 'n fortune cause whoever fired those shots gave nay warning, and offered nay quarter.
"Da Bastid!!" came the call from above… and within a few seconds I could see several figures at me opened window and peering inta the night air. "He's been tipped off fer sure!" came the hushed voice from one of me would-be assassins. And without another word, the three figures disappeared from view.
Fastening me tunic, and hastily pullin' me boots on, I soon broke cover from me hidin' place and ran ta the front door 'o the tavern. The door was ajar, 'n through the gap I could here the sound 'o foot steps commin' towards the exit at a fast pace. The gits inside where cursin', that much I could tell, an' within' a moment the door flew open and out stormed two 'o the meanest lookin' swines ye ever did meet.
I'll ne'er ferget the look on the first gits face as he saw me standing thar with pistols primed 'n ready.
He knew what wus about ta transpire… I could see it in his eyes… twasn't a look 'o horror, or of surprise… twas a look of resignation, fer the swab knew he had but a moment left on this earth.
And sure enough, before he could look up from that pistol and inta me face, his chest exploded into a crimson spray. Me pistol ball ripped inta his torso from nay more'n four paces away 'n the force 'o the shot blew the hapless bastid back into tha tavern. His next companion ne'er knew what hit him either when I fired me second pistol in his midriff. He just gave a mumbled groan, fell forward out 'o the doorway, and landed at me feet. His life-less eye's starin' out inta nothingness.
The final git emerged from the darkness but just stood there in total shock. Glancing down at the two corpses and then up at me, he tried ta make out who I was, but the silvery moonlight lit up the lingering powder-smoke and the swab squinted a lil' - awaiting an imminent trip to the locker like his mates before him.
"Who… who's that?…." came his whimperish question.
No sooner than he said it, I'd placed me smoking pistols back in me belt 'n slowly withdrew me cutlass. "Nay mate! That be MY question!" said I, as me blade cut through the smoke and pressed against the quivering swabs' throat. "Cat got yer tongue?" said I, with impatience.
"Nay Sir!" said he, " … I… I… I be Fingers… Fingers McCoy…" came his nervous response. And with that, the gunpowder smoke dispersed giving me a good view 'o the lads' miserable face as the moonlight shone upon it.
To me surprise, this poor bugger looked no older than fifteen years old.
But before he could say anymore, I began to recognise the poor sap's face. Twas one 'o the unsavoury gits Crash and I had seen talking with Blackhawk 'n Avery outside the Tavern the previous day.

To be continued…

Tortuga - The Silver Sloop - Ye House of Pyrates - Captains Ship - Log Book - Pyrate Artikles - How Scurvy Bastids Play Cutthroats! - The Game