woman, ‘course it was. All such stories start this a-way. Women’ll rip our yer heart, twist yer guts in such a way as they likes, then hang yeh out ta’ dry in the wind. Present company excluded, a’course. Ah, but she was a sweet vision, darlin’ Maria. Hair o’ polished opal, skin like perfect coral. Ta’ take her as me wife, bring her aboard me triple masted galleon, ’twas me only wish ‘n desire.

But didn’t have me-self a ship, back then. Just fresh out the Academy O’ Piracy, sailin’ on the Black Eyetooth with Seymour Skulfidy, Cap’n Seymour to his crew, the fearsome Black Skull to his enemies. An’ oh ho, me hearty, Cap’n Seymour could stab fear in the heart o’ any man crossed his blade.

They called me the Lieutenant back then, tho’ we had no proper ranks on board ship, yeh see. Cap’n Seymour was enamored o’ the parr-limentary form ‘a government, thought of ‘imself as first among equals. ‘Twas a right old mess on the Black Eyetooth, always with yammerin’, debatin’, holdin’ cloture votes. Ye couldn’t propose a measure ta set in a course fer mayhem an’ plunder without some snaggletoothed son o’ the yardarm attachin’ a rider to increase grog rations tenfold. Madness, I tell ye.

Gauliga ‘n I were bunkmateys, down in the rat hole of a berth, hammocks filled with droppings, filthy I tell ye. How he snored, like a whale breachin’, like broadsides goin’ off all night long. So I poked some fun at Gauliga, or poked him with me cutlass. Whenever I’d be needin’ a laugh. Friendly rivalry, ye might call it.

In the mess hall, I be feedin’ Iwaki her splinters ‘n kindlin’, dipped in molasses ‘n sprinkled with salt, just how a Koypu likes it. But Gauliga’d load the salt shaker with blasting powder, have it explode ‘n set fire to me ‘n Iwaki’s whiskers. So I’d stab ‘is hand with ‘is own fork, stick it to the table just as the Cap’n called us out fer roll call votes. All in great fun. Hillarious stuff, crew all loved it.

Then the next day, after Gauliga’d put Olivier’s eyeball in me blood puddin’, I said, “Oh, Gauliga, eyeballs is poppin’ out left ‘n right. Must be yer mum’s in ‘er nightie again!” All in jest, mind ye, in good fun. Aye, and I was stabbin’ him in ‘is side with a rapier too as I said it too, still in good fun.

Well, ’twas the last straw. Gauliga couldn’t suffer no insult to his mum, dear creature she was ta him. Tho’ in me own defense, Gauliga’s mother was indeed an ugly hag, she was. But twasn’t her fault, the sweet ol’ hag, a normal sea hag she was. Swimmin’ about in her rags ‘n such, catchin’ tuna with ‘er claws. Times were she’d swim up the Eyetooth‘s wake, climb ‘er way up the anchor line. Check up on Gauliga to see he’s bein’ a good boy. Sweet lady, and quite a vision, ‘side from her vicious, foot long incisors, crooked nose, an’ skin wrinkled by sea water. But a lovely hag she was.

So Gauliga, he’s touchy ’bout his half hag heritage, he starts up a bluster. Then I pin his hand to the table with a fork again, an’ all the crew laugh. I think all’s done. But Gauliga, he never forgets. Plots revenge, the boy does.

Next genr’l caucus, Cap’n Seymour calls roll. But me, I barely hear the bailiff call ta order, or the secretary’s setting agenda fer the meetin’. ‘Cause next ta the Cap’n is the most bonnie lass yet ta put me eyes astern, bountiful as sail catchin’ the wind, buxom as a barrel o’ grog, fair as a trade current. The Cap’ns niece Maria, bein’ transported to Crawston Port fer her health, the poor thing. Watchin’ our parliament o’ fools, havin’ ‘erself a right laugh at our madness. But nothin’ could dissuade me from seekin’ her, nothin’ could tear me eyes away. Thought of nothing but her through th’ nights, th’ days. I needed some way as to prove to the lass that ’twas I to be her man.

So, a’ the shipwide meetin’ next day, I took meself the floor, an’ I began to speak. I spoke so eloquent, so passionately. Of the mast repair project ‘ad been delayed many a month, of the hold reorganization allowin’ hammock space fer the less fortunate sailors, of fundin’ fer the rodent extermination teams. Spoke straight from me heart, words truer an’ more beautiful than any sailor ‘ad yet spoken on the decks o’ the Black Eyetooth, or on any pirate ship fer the matter. An’ I brought down the young lass’ attention, saw ‘er watchin’ I, likin’ what she’d seein’. Woulda had her eatin’ out of me glove by the end of me speech. Me oratory brought a tear to many a jaded glass eye, pirates as never cried when they watched their own mothers skinned alive, those men cried at me grand elocution.

As I finished speakin’ a quiet came over the ship. A hush no man would break: tender ‘n perfect. At that moment, all th’ stars aligned, I prepared to declare me love fer Maria, make ‘er mine ferever. Bent me knee, removed me hat, all set. An’ then. An then…

“And then what?” asked Eleyna. “Finish the damn story.”

The Captain was distracted by the screeching of the mizzenmast, creaking and straining after a well placed shot from the Hannibal‘s guns set it loose. All about them pirates were preparing to repel boarders, gripping cutlass and musket tight.

“Then, Gauliga steps forward, nasty grin on ‘is face. An’ he says to the assembled, ‘Men, the Lieutenant here is, he’s fillibusterin’ the grog ration!”

“Oh my,” said Eleyna. “How devious.”

“Aye. ‘Twas political death. Would have me stripped me o’ me committee posts. A masterstroke. Would’ve admired Gauliga’s verve, were things but different. Had Maria been there to see me fall from grace, had not she been laughing.” The Captain let out a long, aching sigh. “Grog’s a very sensitive issue, amongst any crew. The Grog Coalition ‘eld a large plurality o’ seats. So th’ crew mutinied on th’ spot, Gauliga himself had Cap’n Seymour an’ his sweet young niece walk the plank, just fer to spite me. Things just ain’t been the same twixt us since.”

As if to punctuate the point, another cannonball lodged itself in the deck not a yard to Eleyna’s left.

“Well,” said Eleyna, “old wounds can still be healed. It sounds like you and Gauliga have had a standing grudge for some time. But you can end it. Be the bigger man. Bury the hatchet.”

“Aye,” said the Captain, with a wicked grin. “I’ll be buryin’ me hatchet. Buryin’ it in Gauliga’s fat skull, that hag’s-son. No one crosses the Captain of the Ancilla an’ breathes ta tell tales.” And with that, the Captain was off, urging his men on and ordering the sails to be let out. The Ancilla slowed, pulling back, while the Hannibal sped ever closer, brimming with a hundred bloodthirsty pirates hooting like monkeys and priming their pistols. Emergency grog rations were issued on both ships, and final prayers made to the gods of sea and storm.

The Hannibal came alongside the Ancilla, rigging meeting rigging with a series of sharp crunches and screams from the men who hung to it, now knocked to decks swarming with brutally armed crews.

“Good lord,” said Eleyna, securing her brace of pistols. “This will not end well.”