raw, foul wretch, or I’ll spit you like a roast pig. For you face none other than the Dread Pirate Eleyna, scourge of the nine seas, master of every coast. From the northernmost shoals to the southerly depths. From the cradle of the winds in the east to the western edge of the world where the sun drops below the ocean, crashing down great heavenly waterfalls beyond the understanding of man. Beg me for mercy, an’ I’ll have yer shinbones to steer me tiller. Defy me, and I’ll sew yer guts inna garters, use ‘em to string yeh round the masthead an’ leave ye there till the gulls make nests outa yer eye sockets. Look on I, an’ tremble!”

The captain of the merchantman, trying desperately to conceal his bulk behind the wine casks that took up a full half of his cabin, dropped his cutlass to the ground and raised his shuddering hands. “What was that, again, that you said would happen if I surrendered?”

She stood aside Yelol as he lowered the flag and raised in its stead the Ancilla‘s colors, an image of a bird’s skeleton perched on a spear. Eleyna thought the flag was a bit too much. From a distance no one could make out the detail of it: the bird’s wings looked like paintbrushes, or scarves wrapped around a maypole, something fuzzy and difficult to make out. In fact, she noticed, Yelol had strung it upside-down, but the boarding party cheered just the same. They had liberated the former Captain’s private wine supply, and were beginning their libations as quickly as possible.

“Commander,” said Yelol, presenting Eleyna with the surrendered cutlass, “the ship is yours.”

“Thank you, First Mate Yelol.” She accepted the sword and raised it in the air, to the sound of ragged cheers from her party. “The ships is ours!” The cheers grew louder. “The ship, um, the ship, and her cargo…” Eleyna trailed off. “Yelol,” she whispered, “what is this ship named, and what is her cargo?”

“The Yellow Barbelled Gurnard is the ship’s name, Commander. And it’s cargo consists of, well, Yellow Barbelled Gurnards. The hold is just rancid with the things.”

“What the devil is a Barbelled Gurnard? Some kind of fruit? A gemstone?”

“Begging your pardon, Captain, but it’s a fish. An ugly, spiny sort of creature. Plenty of them down there still alive, flopping here and there. I can’t imagine what these merchants thought to sell them for. I’ve never heard of anyone wanting them for anything, certainly not for eating.”

“Well then. Among other things, we shall liberate this ship of her unfortunate name.” Taking an half-filled bottle from the hand of an already sufficiently intoxicated pirate, Eleyna prepared to rechristen the ship. “From now on,” she cried out, “this vessel will no longer be known as the Yellow Bugled Godard, or whatever. It will be called instead, The Lady Ledgerwood, square-bottomed cruiser of the mottled waves.” She smashed the bottle on the deck, to another confused, but rousing, round of cheers.

“How did I do?” she asked Yelol, stepped down from the poop, staggering a little in the aftermath of all the excitement.

“Admirably, especially considering that, for the moment at least, you’re barely a Captain.”

“I mean the speech, how was it? Was it rousing? Sufficiently?”

Yelol shrugged. “I am not much of a sentimental sort, so I’m probably not the one to ask. I did, however, find your speech to the Gurnard‘s Captain earlier to be particularly effective. He certainly surrendered in short order.”

“Really? You didn’t find my accent to be heavy handed?”

“Hardly.”

Eleyna took Yelol by the arm and looked up into his eyes. “Thank you Yelol, you are a true friend.”

“Eleyna,” he replied, “the pleasure is all mine. I spent two years as a prisoner of the Racacalx, and you were the first decent human being I met in all that time. And since I’ve been assisting you, my standing in the world has done nothing but improve. So don’t worry, I will accompany you for the foreseeable future.” He put his hand around hers for a moment and squeezed. Eleyna thought she almost saw a flash of blush in Yelol’s dun colored cheeks.

Depriving the former captain of the Ledgerwood, née Gurnard, of his treasure chest, and leaving the prisoners and the cargo of spiny Barbelled Gurnards in the capable hands of Arden, Maurizio, and thirteen other sloshed pirates, Eleyna returned to the Ancilla to report. The Captain was pacing the deck nervously peering through his oddly useful and yet useless telescope. As they approached, Eleyna thought she almost saw a smile beneath the Captain’s twisted beard, before his normal scurvy-racked demeanor returned.

“Yarr, Seaman Eleyna, I trust ye bring good news.”

“Captain, the ship is taken. I bring ye the gold and silver she was carrying, and I have left a prize crew aboard, headed by Seaman Piss-Bucket, until further notice.”

“Ye’ve done yerself well, Seaman Eleyna, and ye’ve served me proudly. It’s the sort of service I’ll not ferget, mark me words.” He offered her a celebratory swig of grog from his private flask, which Eleyna managed to accept with more or less aplomb. “So, ye believe Piss-Bucket can handle a ship? Ye think he’s Captain material?”

Eleyna smiled. “I thought that leaving him in charge of the ship and crew, managing the cargo, was an adequate reward for everything he’s done for me lately.”

“Yarr, there be nothing wrong with delegating, every Captain must learn such. But some things must be done for yerself.”

Ancilla had drawn closer to the Ledgerwood. Eleyla looked out over the railing, examining the other ship. I rigging was damaged, a few spars shot out, but there appeared to be no serious damage. Nothing that a full day’s work couldn’t fix. Of course, getting a full day’s work out of a crew of pirates often took a week, or more, but for the moment that was Arden’s problem.

Her gaze was distracted by the loud splash of something, landing in the open water between the two ships. “What was that?” Eleyna asked.

The Captain swung his telescope to bear, scanning the area. “Yarr, can’t see a thing.”

“Of course not, something just splashed a moment ago, and your telescope can only see hours in the future.”

“Nay, nay, can’t see a thing because it’s nothing but smoke. Smoke thick as can be.”

“Smoke?” asked Eleyna, now scanning the horizon herself, nervously. Smoke could only mean one of a few things when at sea, and not a one was good. She heard another splash, this time far astern. “Someone’s firing long guns at us, taking their bearings. Their next shot should be…”

In confirmation of Eleyna’s hunch, another noise hit them, ricocheting around the deck. It was the sound of splintering boards, of an iron ball smashing its was into hardwood and rattling the interior of the Ancilla.

“Battle stations, battle stations!” called the Captain. “Run out the batteries! Batten down the hatches! Prepare to storm the bastards!”

“Captain,” Eleyna asked, “who would be attacking us? And who has cannons that they can fire from so far, as far as to be invisible to the eye?”

“Yarr, tis only one man would be so brave. Only one man I know would be so foolish.”

“Who?”

“That man be the black dog of the western oceans, Captain Gauliga. Gauliga the Merciless.”