Monster

I had spent all of the afternoon watch tending the rigging, struggling to remain on my feet as I slipped on the wet boards. The second the first watch bell tolled, I practically crawled into the crowded gun deck for mess, drained of strength. Even below we couldn't rid ourselves of rainwater, since it poured through the hatches and every single tiny crack we'd forgotten to caulk.

Despite the festive mood with music and cards and the smell of cooking from the galley, my humor was as dreary as the weather pounding us. While crossing the deck, I was offered to join a few rounds or to sing a shanty, but refused them all. I was drenched, cold and miserable. All I wanted was to change and sit as close to the stove as possible with a bowl of broth.

Even before tonight, the men had noticed that I'd changed. That I was more quiet than I used to be, didn't laugh as much, spent too much time away from them. I could see the worry in their faces whenever I walked past to go brood in a corner, but they had no idea how to help me. Honestly, there was nothing they could do. I simply... didn't have the will to socialize.

And yet, as I sat and fished around my meal with a spoon, I felt the sting of loneliness nipping at my heart. It was a strange state to be in: wanting to be alone while yearning for company at the same time. My guess for this predicament was that it had something to do with whom I wanted to spend time with. Gates, arguably the only person who could understand what I was going through, was away on the Ranger and I hadn't seen him since we left Nassau; Dufresne was kept busy by his quartermaster duties; and De Groot's only concern lately was bringing Flint to justice, which became very tiresome after a while. I wanted him to pay for his crimes as well, of course I did, but we had all agreed, not until we captured the Urca. Until then, we needed to be patient.

For the millionth time since that fateful night, I wished that Billy was there.

I was slowly picking at the vegetables and meat swimming in my bowl when Logan and Muldoon came down from their watch. Even with their slickers, water dripped from their hair and beard.

"Launch from the Ranger!" Muldoon shouted over the racket. "Captain Gates is coming over."

In an instant, I sat up straight and turned to better hear them.

"Crazy bastard!" Logan exclaimed whilst they approached the galley. "What could be so fucking important that he has to row through all that shit out there?"

What, indeed. Quickly, I picked up the bowl to drink the broth and filled my mouth with as much food as I could before I scurried to the ladder, grabbing a slicker for myself on the way. They didn't come with hoods, unfortunately, but my hair was already wet, so what did it matter?

I stumbled back out into the storm and searched for the Ranger's lights in the darkness. They were even more difficult to make out in that deluge, just small flickers that disappeared and reappeared out of the corner of my eye. I had the feeling the waves had gotten bigger, for they rocked the Walrus perilously up and down. Crossing the deck usually only took ten seconds, if even that; in that whirlpool, it took nearly three minutes to get to the rails on the larboard side.

A couple of crew mates and myself helped haul Mr. Gates aboard. "I'm shocked you weren't capsized on the way over!" I yelled, barely making myself heard over the howling wind and the rush of water.

"It came close!" He laughed whilst accepting Folsom's outstretched hand to step over the rails. "Thank you. Constance, do me a favor." He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close so only I could hear. "Bring Silver to the captain's quarters, then inform the others. It's time."

"Aye aye, Captain." With a proud smile, I gave his arm a tap and skidded over to the hatch a second time.

So that was what was so important it warranted rowing through a storm. The last piece of the schedule. This was it, home stretch. We were so close I could almost feel the treasure in the palms of my hands. I would free the Andromache's captives, help arm and fortify Nassau, fend off England, Spain, whoever the fuck dared try to take it, and then... Maybe I would finish what Billy had started with that house. It was already purchased, after all. He had meant for me to have it if we couldn't share it. I might as well.

I found Silver talking to Randall, no doubt trying to convince him to use the prosthetic Howell had made for him, to no avail. I had caught a bit of his reaction to that idea earlier. It was... extreme, to say the least, with the involvement of a threatening looking knife. I clamped a hand on Silver's shoulder to het his attention.

"Come with me," was all I told him before whirling around.

I glared at him from over my shoulder. "Flint's cabin. You fill in the rest."

Together, we surged into the chaotic mess that was the outside world and held on to whatever we could to get to the quarterdeck without falling. I didn't bother knocking at the great cabin door, just stumbled inside with Silver in tow and shut it right after. Gates and Flint were already in there, the latter sitting at his desk, the former resting against on the windowsill at his right with a towel to dry himself.

I shoved Silver forward, who let out a complaint and gave me a look that I returned with my best imitation of Gates' death glare. That seemed to convince him to leave any snide remarks safely locked away behind his lips.

"Thank you, Constance," said Flint.

Gates tossed his soaping towel at Silver while the captain set a blank piece of paper and his inkwell in front of him. "We make landfall in the morning. The last part of the schedule, if you don't mind."

Silver pushed his dropping curls out of his face and took up the quill. Figuring this would take a while, I stepped forward. "Captain, if you don't need me for anything else, would you mind if I returned below deck?"

Without taking his eyes out of the cook, he waved me off with a hand. "Go on."

I looked to Gates, curious to know if he would find me later. He nodded to my silent question, so I left the cabin, eager to go back to the warmer gundeck. I would know which course we were to take soon enough, no need for me to stick around.

Howell was the first whom I encountered. Next I found Dufresne, who luckily happened to be conversing with de Groot at the far side of the stern. The four of us gathered in the sickbay and shut the door after making sure no one would be prying into our affairs.

"Flint and Gates called Silver into the great cabin," I informed them. "He's giving them the last part of the schedule as we speak."

"Let us pray his information is accurate," Howell huffed.

"I doubt it," quipped de Groot. "Judging by the results of his test, his memory is far from reliable."

"He only had five minutes to study that page and memorize it," Dufresne countered with a sigh that gave me the impression they'd had this same conversation before, maybe more than once. "Meanwhile, he had three whole days to read the schedule. It's not the same thing."

"Well, I still don't trust it." De Groot crossed his arms and began to pace.

I opened my mouth to argue that Silver wanted the gold just as much as the rest of us, so it was in his interest to deliver the information accurately, but I was too tired. Instead, I took a seat on a bench somewhere in the corner and leaned my head on the wall to wait. I could feel the others looking at me with concern and did my best to ignore them. As uncomfortable as they might feel about my apathy, I was sure it was better than seeing me cry all the time over the smallest shit. At least, I thought so.

We didn't have to wait long. Not ten minutes later, Silver was banging at the door and Howell brought him in. From my corner, I watched him hand de Groot a piece of paper.

"Captain asked me to pass these to you," he said. "A new course."

The helmsman examined the information written on it, then lifted his piercing gaze to meet Silver's. "The captain accepted the last segment of the Urca as valid?"

Silver adopted a graver stance. "One thing you should not doubt: certainty is not a word I throw around lightly. Now this information, I am quite certain I have it right."

De Groot shot him a look full of dubious resentment and abandoned the room to carry out his new orders. Silver stared at the door through which he had just exited. "That man has a strange way of handling the prospect of imminent wealth beyond reason."

Neither Dufresne nor Howell said anything to that comment. I, however, stood up with deliberate care, dusted off my trousers and walked over to Silver until I was staring straight into him, pinning him to the wall with my stare alone. He swallowed hard whilst doing his best to stay away from me, but he had nowhere to run to. The others remained quiet, passively observing, waiting to see what I would do. Frankly, I quite liked the idea of opening him up from navel to jaw and try do divinate the future from the way his guts spilled.

"You had better be right about the schedule," I growled. My face was inches from his, my teeth bared in a savage promise of violence should he cross me. "Because if not, you can beg and bargain and wag that silver tongue of yours all you like, but I will send you screaming into the Devil's lap."

Without waiting for a reply, I stepped aside and abandoned the sickbay, gently shutting the door after me. ***

Billy was standing with his back to me, across a sea of grass bathed by a setting sun. To his right, a white house of modest size with orange clay roof tiles stood. A bright pink bougainvillea bush grew over one side, entwined into the wooden porch rail. To his left, the vast blue ocean, whose breeze rippled on his white shirt. His short hair glowed gold, hands held out to feel the wind blowing through his fingers.

With a light, yet excited heart, I smiled and carefully stepped forward. I meant to sneak up on him, surprise him, but as if sensing my presence, he turned on his heels just as I was about to poke my fingers into his sides and grabbed my wrists with a laugh. We play-wrestled for a bit and ended up falling on the soft grass together, with me on top of him. After we calmed our laughter, I stared down at him and he at me, and I thanked my lucky stars for being so blessed with by a love so true, it overflowed right out of me.

He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and I smoothed my hand down his cheek. How I wished to drown in the blue of his eyes. My fingers ghosted over his lips, thick and rosy and chapped. They parted in a silent gasp, allowing me a peek of his teeth. Overcome by the need to kiss him, I craned my neck down.

"Constance..." He sighed with eyes half closed, his chest heaving with anticipation. "Constance... Wake up."

I frowned, groaned in protest. I was awake already... Wasn't I?

"Wake up, Constance," said Mr. Gates' voice through Billy's mouth. "Wake up, my dove."

I flicked my eyes open with a jerk. I was curled up in my hammock, on the Walrus, my head rested on Billy's pillow, where his scent still lingered, and wrapped up in my scarf. I had picked it up from the laundry the morning of our departure, free of blood and thankfully still colorful and bright. The tear I had stitched up myself with blue thread; though it was quite visible, it wasn't so jarring that I would constantly notice. My stomach turned cold when I saw Gates looming over me, one hand holding a lantern, the other on my shoulder.

A dream... Only a dream.

"Sorry to wake you," he whispered amidst the silence in the gundeck. "I needed to talk to you before getting back to the Ranger."

I rubbed the sleep (and a few runaway tears) from my eyes as I sat up. Everyone was asleep. The wind had calmed some and so had the waves, since the ship was rocking much more smoothly than when I had gone to bed. The storm was finally passing. "What time is it...?"

"Little past three," he told me, sheepish. "I meant to come earlier, but I was delayed at Flint's cabin. We haven't had a chance to speak since launch and I was wondering if you were all right."

"Hmm..." I yawned and shook my drowsy head to try and concentrate. "Flint's cabin... Oh, right. The new course. Where are we meant to be going...?"

"Division Bay. Let's hope everything pans out as it should."

Meaning: let's hope Silver's information is accurate, or else there will be blood.

"Aye, let's..." Another yawn and I stared at Gates through heavy eyelids. He seemed... tired. Worried. I furrowed my brow. "What about you? Is everything all right, Mr. Gates?"

"Of course, love, of course. It's just, uh... I wanted to show you something." He glanced behind his back to make sure all were truly sleeping, then produced a folded piece of paper from his inner breast pocket. He handed it to me and held up the lantern so I could read its contents:

I, Hal Gates, presently captain of the Ranger and former quartermaster of the Walrus, sane in mind and body, do hereby confess my crimes against the crew I was meant to serve...

In a flash, sleep evaded my mind. I flipped my gaze up to Gates, jaw gone slack. He only stared at me gravelly, his dark eyes glinting in the lantern light.

"What is this?" I asked, even if I already suspected what was going on.

"My full confession for all my wrong-doings to protect Flint. I'm going to deliver it to Dufresne in the morning, in case something happens to me before we return home. I have every intention of listing my crimes in person, but... Something is telling me I might not live to see that day arrive. Call it intuition, premonition, whatever you like. This is a precaution."

I shook my head whilst he took back the penned confession. Just the thought of losing Gates as well was inconceivable to me. He was the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity amidst my on-going grief. If he died, too... God forbid. "Mr. Gates... Don't... Don't speak like that, please. You're scaring me. Do you think Flint will--?"

He took my trembling hands into his and smoothed his thumbs over them. "Right now, I can't convince myself that he didn't push Billy overboard, that night. I certainly wouldn't put it past him to consider killing me if he thought I had become a hindrance to his plans. I realize this is very frightening, especially now, but I want you to be prepared, Constance. When the hour to accuse Flint comes and for some reason I can't be there beside you, it will be up to you and Dufresne to see him charged and convicted. This madness has to end." He let his stare drop to our joined hands. "Remember what you told me when I said exposing him meant our parts in this story would also be brought to light...?"

"Aye," I stuttered. "I said I would submit to the crews' judgement regardless of the result. So would Billy, if... if he were here."

His fingers squeezed mine. "You were always so much braver than I. You and him. And infinitely more honest. I pray that such qualities are enough to save you from the worst of their anger. And I pray they will let you stay, afterwards. You will need your family for what comes next."

I remembered my promise to Billy before setting sail: I will be their rock, just as you once were. "I don't know if I'm still worthy of this crew anymore after everything I did... But... I made a promise that I would look after them, so I will do my best to convince them having me on board will be in their interest."

Gates nodded slowly a few times, then released my hands and stood up straight. "God watch over the two of us, in that case. We'll need all the help we can get."

My fingers grasped at my cross for comfort. Please Lord, guide and protect Mr. Gates from harm. "Amen to that..."

With one last pat on my arm, he attempted at a reassuring smile. "I'll let you go back to sleep, now. Rest up for tomorrow and try not to worry yourself to death, aye?"

"You too..." I bit my lip as he started to walk away. "Mr. Gates?"

He paused and raised his eyebrows at me.

My head hung low in sorrow but also shame, fingers fiddling with the soft wool of my scarf. I had never told Billy I loved him before he died and had no wish to make the same mistake with Gates. "I don't think I ever got to thank you for everything you've done for me, did I? Whatever happens tomorrow... I want you to know that all I have, all I am, I owe it to you. I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you taking a chance on me. So thank you."

Gates managed a genuine smile that, though sad, I could see was also full of affection. "I should be thanking you as well, actually." I tilted my head. "Whatever for?"

"For coming into my life the way you did." He walked back over to me and took my face into both his hands with extreme care. "No man could have asked for a better daughter. Even if you aren't my blood... I love you just the same as if you were."

He never told Billy how much he meant to him, too, I realized while a current of cold shock rushed through me. Seemed like I wasn't the only one who regretted not speaking my heart's true feelings when there was still time. With stinging eyes and a trembling lip, I nodded softly to his words.

His warm hands left my face and urged me to lie down. "Sleep, my dove. I will see you in the morning."

As the sound of his bootsteps faded away from the gundeck, I closed my eyes with a shuddered breath. By the time he was gone up the ladder, I had already fallen asleep. ***

The morning arrived clear and sunny, though the wind stubbornly pushed us forward with more strength than usual. One almost couldn't believe there had been a storm the night before. Ahead of us, Division Bay presented itself as a strip of barren rocky land against which the waves pounded into again and again. At our starboard, the Ranger followed close by, Spanish colors flying in her wake instead of the black, same as us.

Just a few more meters and we would turn a corner into the cove where the L'Urca de Lima would be waiting, helpless as a lamb. And then... finally... this whole ordeal would be over.

"Listen here!"

We turned to see Flint on the rails, hanging off of the port shroud by one hand. He waited until he had the whole crew's ear, then delivered the revised version of the attack plan:

"When we crest the point ahead and spot the Urca in anchor, we'll begin our final run at her. The Spanish banner may earn us a few yards of confusion before the captain identifies us and opens fire. So we'll close fast on her, hammer her well with our guns, and then take the fight to her deck. That fight will be the fight of our lives, make no mistake. But on the other side... Lies Paradise."

The men banded together in a rousing "huzzah!" that I couldn't find the will to join. Looking over my shoulder, I found Dufresne staring back at me with knitted brows. He nodded surreptitiously, and I returned it.

One last fight, for our brothers. For ourselves. For Billy.

And then Flint would be no more.

"I'll see you there," our captain swore before landing on the deck and turning to the bow, hands tucked behind his back. "Mr. de Groot, a full complement, if you please. Signal the Ranger. Full sail, final approach."

"Aye, captain." Behind him, de Groot made a sharp whistle and signaled our consort. I positioned myself on the rails, rifle in hand, and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. This was it. Several weeks of preparation, of blood, sweat and tears, and we were here at last. I pushed everything that preoccupied me lately out of my mind - my broken heart, my pain, my fears - and focused solely on surviving whatever we were about to find around the bend. Slowly, we approached the tip of that point. We reached for our talismans and said our final prayers. I kissed my old flintlock, then my cross for good measure. Our fates lied in God's hands alone, now.

We passed that rocky tip and...

My stomach turned painfully in my gut. The waves lapped at a wide expanse of sand, covering it with white mist. There was grass beyond the beach and endless blue skies. Gulls and other sea birds swerved with the wind...

But there was no Urca. The bay was completely empty.

"Check our position," Flint commanded, only barely containing the panic in his voice.

"This is the course," de Groot replied with stone cold certainty.

"Well, check it again!"

"Captain--" the helmsman insisted. "This is the location you requested."

Flint scoured the bay, his breath shallow and quick, but no matter how he searched the water, no ships surged up from them by miracle. Around me, the crew was silent with disappointment... and anger. This was not what he had promised us. He said he would make us rich. He said he would make us strong. The princes of the New World. He promised all our suffering would be worth it.

And yet... here we were, with nothing to show for it. All those weeks of hard work, all those sacrifices, the lives lost in the pursuit of this one galleon, had all gone down into the gutter in the blink of an eye.

As Flint marched past all of us and shut himself in the great cabin, all my thoughts went to Billy. I couldn't believe he had died for nothing. That despite all our efforts, we somehow had missed our prize, or maybe she never set sail from Havana at all, or her captain took a last minute course change as a precaution. Maybe we never had a single shot at taking the Urca because it just wasn't meant to be, in which case... In which case, it really was all for nothing.

I grasped desperately at the barrel of my rifle and fought to contain the tears. Damn Flint. Damn Silver, to whom I would keep my promise to gut him regardless of the reasons why the Urca wasn't where it was supposed to. But above all, damn me for believing in Flint and for being so blind to the fact nothing was more important than the people I loved. It was just as much my fault that we were all here as it was Flint's. I was just as much to blame for Billy's death, as well. I should have listened to him, taken the Walrus and fled when he still could.

"Mr. de Groot." I heard Dufresne call. "Signal the Ranger. Tell captain Gates to come over as quickly as he can."

"No need." Logan said. When I turned, I saw him standing over the rails, hands cupped above his eyes. "I can see them launching a boat. He's coming."

*** In a matter of minutes, Mr. Gates was coming aboard. His face was pale in the bright morning sun, eyebrows knit so tight his forehead was full of deep furrows.

"Where is he?" He immediately asked Dufresne.

"In his cabin. He hasn't come out since we entered the bay."

"Christ." Gates sighed and pushed past us. "Dufresne, Constance, with me."

I traded a surprised look with Dufresne, baffled as to why he was asking for me to tag along, but neither of us questioned him. For once, Gates didn't bother knocking; he pushed the cabin door wide open and waltzed right in.

Flint stood at the far end behind his desk, facing the windows. He neither turned nor even moved in reaction to our presence. Only said: "Shut the door."

Since I had entered last, I did us the favor and stoond guard next to it.

Gates stepped up to Flint's side. "What the hell is going on? Where's the Urca?"

"I don't know," the captain responded. "I checked the maps, checked the schedule. She should be here. She must be here."

"And yet she's not," Dufresne pointed out with a note of tension. "Clearly, the schedule wasn't accurate, maybe it never was."

It didn't escape my notice he was deliberately keeping his knowledge about Silver's deeds secret. Who knew how Flint would react if he were to realize exactly how many people knew the truth, as well as who told them.

"There could a hundred reasons why she's not here," Gates retorted - but this time, there was something different about his posture. He was less confident, less... willing to defend Flint. Like he was finally losing all faith he had left in him or the possibility of conquering the Urca. "The schedule might have been altered at the last minute. Maybe she's late because of the storm. Maybe she never even left port."

"Whatever the case--" Dufresne adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms over his chest. "We need to devise a new plan and fast. To say the men were disappointed with this turn of events is an enormous euphemism. I don't know how much more they can take."

Gates looked to Flint, who hadn't moved an inch. "Captain? What's the plan, now? What do you want us to do?"

The other didn't immediately reply. I noticed with a pang of fear that his hands were shaking. Though he was trying to appear cool and composed, it was taking all his self-control to keep his temper in check. This wasn't how things were supposed to go and he was not reacting well.

At last, he slowly turned on the heels of his boots and leaned on the desk with his fists. His eyes furiously scanned the maps, as if he could will the paper and ink to reveal the Urca's whereabouts. "The schedule indicates the Urca is to stop to take on water here before setting out to Spain. If it's not here, it must be somewhere close. St. Augustine is days away from this point, so... We send scouts along the coast and search for her. When we find her--" He looked up to meet Dufresne's stare. "And we will find her, we go to her meeting and form a new attack plan once we know more. Think you can convince the crew to go along?"

"Constance can," Gates said.

All eyes snapped to me, making me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. So that was why he had wanted me to come.

"Given her personal losses, she has more cause than most to want to turn around and go home... or see you hang. They will listen to her. If she says she is still willing to try and find the Urca, they will follow."

I pursed my lips, internally squirmed at the thought of continuing this ruse. Again I traded a look with Dufresne, who watched me most carefully. I wished I could confer with him in private because as far as I was concerned, the Urca business was finished. Or maybe I was finished with it. I just wanted to go home.

But then... I thought about Mr. Scott and the Andromache's captives. They were counting on me to free them and for that, I needed my share of the treasure and Billy's. I owed it to them to try.

Flint's eyes bore deep into mine. "Can you do it, Constance?"

I nodded in agreement. God, I hated how dirty I felt.

"I suppose we should go make our case, then. Captains..." Dufresne exited the cabin and I followed, shutting the door behind me.

"What do you make of all this?" I inquired him in the short seconds we had before stepping outside into the main deck.

"I think it's worth a shot," he admitted. "But the men aren't going to like it. Antsy as they are already, I'll be surprised if they even take this plan into consideration."

I let out a long breath. "Then I better do a good job convincing them they should accept it. In case you can't."

Dufresne reached out a hand to hold my arm. "Wait. Before we go, I wanted to ask if you're comfortable doing this."

Under different circumstances, I might have lied. I might have made an effort to let him know I was comfortable enough doing it, that I believed in it, that my heart was still set on capturing our prize and I wasn't being pressured into manipulating the men. But I was so tired of lies, tired of going against my own values.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Was all I murmured. "You want that gold. So do they. Hell, part of me still wants it too, if only to keep a promise I made back home. If it weren't for that, I would vote we bring the old girl about right now and be done with all this."

"I'd like to think there's always a choice," he replied with a scrunched up nose. "Though I have an inkling you won't believe me."

"That hasn't been my experience in a while, no." Sometimes, you needed to do things you didn't agree with to achieve certain goals. Whether they were worth the sacrifice in the end or not, there lied the difference. And it also depended on the feasibility of those goals. For example, in this instant, I hadn't the vaguest hope of locating the Urca. Still... it wouldn't hurt to look, would it? "I appreciate the sentiment, even so."

"It's a complicated situation," he assented.

"At least if it doesn't pan out... Without Gates' support, Flint can't force us to push through into danger. That should serve as some consolation, aye?" I chuckled.

“Right, about that...” He sighed, glanced over his shoulder at the closed cabin door and lowered his voice: “Do you really think he's going to turn on Flint? The others expressed some doubt about it. He assured me he would not interfere with the trial, conviction and execution, but one has to wonder, after all these years defending him... Old habits, y'know?”

I nibbled on my lip and pondered on how much I should say. The ship had ears everywhere and I didn't want anyone to know what was going to happen before it was time. I decided to be safe and go with the bare minimum so I leaned in to whisper: “He's going to deliver you a document soon. Wait for it. Then you'll know whether he's committed or not.”

Dufresne was intrigued, no doubt wished to ask more about what I meant, but in the end he simply nodded and said nothing more of it.

At last, I glanced outside to our expectant crew. "All right... let's do this."

Dufresne adjusted his spectacles. "Let's."

Side by side, we marched out there and stood together at the center of the open gun deck. The others gathered around to listen, so we waited until we were all assembled to present the new plan.

"Gentlemen," spoke Dufresne. "We are all, understandably, quite upset at the situation we currently find ourselves in. I just conferred with captains Flint and Gates to decide our next move and they asked me to present you with a new plan, see what you think of it."

"What fucking plan?" Folsom shouted from the main mast starboard shouts. "The Urca isn't here! What's Flint going to do, make a little dance and conjure her to appear out of God's arse?"

Several voices rose up in agreement. We were expecting resistance, so Dufresne wasn't put off by the rigger's vulgar display.

"Captain Flint believes the Urca is somewhere in the vicinity. The schedule points to a stop to re-supply before crossing the Atlantic in this location, but it's possible last night's storm simply blew her off course. In that case, we propose putting together two teams to search the coast and hopefully find her, and from then on, we adapt our previous attack plan according to the conditions. Simple as that, no risk attached. From my calculations, our stores can last us at least a week of searching before we have to start heading home, which should give us plenty of time."

"It's a waste of time."

The crowd parted at the stern to let Mr. de Groot pass. His fists were closed tight at his sides, the only indication of the anger boiling behind his stone face. "How do we know this won't become another Andromache? How do we know Flint won't just make us sail up and down the coast searching for the Urca until either our stores run out or a guardacosta spots us and sinks us? How can we trust that after this plan fails we won't be all shoe-horned into another, and another, until we are all dead?"

I stepped up to Dufresne's side and put my hand on his shoulder for permission. He nodded and moved aside to offer me the center stage.

"Because this time captain Gates is in agreement that if we do not find her, then it's over. For good.”

That made them pause and exchange looks of bewilderment. Taking advantage of their silence, I pressed on:

"Look... we are all tired and grieving. We all know what Billy meant to our Mr. Gates. Losing him put things under a new perspective. Frankly, with the way things have been going... Even I will admit I am losing faith in our success. After everything I've lost for this prize, I have enough cause to want to give up and go home this instant. But... I'm not ready for that just yet. I've worked too long and too hard to give up now. I have plans for my share of the gold that I still think are worth one last try. Besides... I think of Billy, of Lars, of Morley... they gave their lives for this and although I know they wouldn't want us to get ourselves killed for their sake, I think I want to give this thing one more shot before calling it quits. But that's just my opinion. What say you, brothers? One last ditch effort for our comrades and ourselves, and if it doesn't work out, then..." I shrugged, smacked my hands on my thighs. "We go home. If it would appease you, I volunteer to go out and look for the Urca. Would be much faster and easier if others were to join me."

The men grumbled some whilst looking around to see who would dare volunteer. Many of them agreed with de Groot that it was a waste of time, but I think the majority was moved enough by my speech and my example to be persuaded into approving the plan.

"You want us to search for an entire week?" Logan intervened. "I've seen the stores, it's a stretch to say the least. We risk having to port somewhere for supplies and being identified."

I crossed my arms and gave it some thought. "You're right, it's too long. How about five days?"

"Still too fucking long," O'Neill groaned at my left. "Surely if she's as close as Flint thinks it won't take that long to spot her."

"I agree," Luca quipped. "Three days at most."

"One day is enough waste as it is," said de Groot, and the others made their agreement known.

"Two days then," Dufresne proposed. It wouldn't please Flint, but it was better than nothing, so it would have to suffice. "Two days of search and on the dawn of the third day, we raise anchor and leave. Does that seem fair?"

They thought about it for a minute or two and at last gave their go-ahead. However, no one else volunteered to join me in the search, so to avoid compulsory picking from the quartermaster's part, I asked: "Who would like to join me on a nice camping trip through Florida, in that case?"

"I'll go," said Dufresne. "It's only fair, after all."

I nodded and scoured the crew. "Anyone else?"

There was a moment of hesitation, until Thierry stepped up. "I'll go, as well."

Next, it was Joji who presented himself, mute as always. Folsom and Kensington offered their services, too. And so did Sayeed, our lookout. That made us eight. If we split up into groups of four, it just might be enough to comb the coast for a few miles.

"Very well, then." Dufresne cleared his throat. "Gents, thank you for your cooperation and your patience. Let us hope for some luck. We convene at the launch in one hour for departure, bring only the essentials, like water, food and medicine. We travel light and fast. That is all."

The crew dispersed, minus de Groot. He marched up to us and urged us into the sickbay so we could talk in private. As soon as the door was shut he whirled around, obviously unsatisfied. "I think we should try Flint immediately. Right here and now."

My eyebrows arched up at such a blunt statement. And I wasn't alone in my astonishment.

"Beg pardon?" Demanded Dufresne.

"I maintain my argument," the helmsman insisted, and that was when I noted something different in his eyes. They were illuminated by an intensely vengeful fire I had never thought him capable of. "I told you the cook's information wasn't reliable enough and here's my proof! There is no Urca here at all. We were led into a fool's errand with devastating consequences and every moment you spend out there searching serves only to offer the captain another chance to evade the reckoning he's got coming. I say no more. When we make landfall, we should try Flint and make him pay for his crimes, not a moment later."

"Keep your voice down," Dufresne hissed. "Mr. de Groot, I understand that you're angry, but we agreed we would try Flint once the money was secured and distributed."

"That was when there was still any money to distribute, which clearly there isn't anymore."

"You don't know that for sure."

"They will have their justice," the quartermaster pressed, patience running thin. "But not yet. The men opted for one last try at what they were promised. The dead don't get precedence over the living."

De Groot narrowed his eyes and shook his head in disappointment. "Do you truly only care about the gold, Dufresne? Really? I never pegged you for someone so weak of character as that. What would Billy say?"

Dufresne's expression turned cold, skin paling up in the dim light coming from the hatch behind us. "Don't talk to me about Billy, Mr. de Groot. Don't forget I am still quartermaster, so my word is final. We will not be trying Flint until we are absolutely certain the Urca is not here. Is that understood?"

Watching the two of them argue, I said nothing because honestly? I was deeply conflicted, torn between my duty to my crew, my desire to return to Nassau and my promise to Mr. Scott. I stood aside and leaned on the operating table with my head hung low, tried to convince myself that pressing on was the right path for everyone while everything in me screamed to support de Groot.

"And you, Constance?" De Groot said, turning to me. "Do you really believe what you said out there? That you're not ready to give up? Do you still think there's a chance to find that galleon or have you simply become another one of Flint's puppets? Is the gold really that much more important to you than avenging Billy?"

"Mr. de Groot." Dufresne called out sternly.

"Let her speak for herself." I could feel De Groot's stare on my nape. "You swore you would never lie to us or any of the crew again. So I ask: is the gold more important than your principles?"

My hands gripped the table until the knuckles turned white. With a voice choked by the roiling emotions in my gut, I said: "It's not about the gold for me. It's about what it can get me. There are people back home counting on me to use that money to help them. And I still believe we can save Nassau from invasion with it. I know you don't agree with me on this matter, but I fear for her, for our way of life. I do want justice for Billy and the others." I pushed off the table to face my friend despite the hot prickling in my eyes. "I loved him more than words can describe, so don't you dare accuse me of disregarding his death or anyone else's. Dufresne is right: the dead don't get precedence over the living. This is not an either or situation. We can get the gold and justice. All we're asking is for a little patience."

Defeated, yet still stubborn, de Groot sighed through his nose and flicked his eyes between Dufresne and I. "Very well, then. I see I am to be ignored and out-voted yet again. I wonder who else gets to die before you finally see that I'm right."

When he abandoned the room, he slammed the door so violently I thought the timber might shatter. Neither Dufresne nor I bothered to say anything. From both our points of view, there was nothing else to say. So, in heavy silence, we too left the sickbay to find Gates and Flint and relay the news.

We found them both near the helm. I let our quartermaster do the honours.

"Captain, after an inventory of our stores, the men have assented to your plan. Provided we find a suitable place to land the Walrus, you'll have two days to send out scouts and hopefully locate the Urca. Given their mood, I'd say we were lucky to get that much."

As expected, Flint wasn't pleased, but lacking any better options... "Do it, then." And the captain retired to his cabin.

Given that I felt no need to dawdle and would rather get ready to go ashore before I could change my mind, I too excused myself to help steer the ship further into the bay. I was halfway up the port side shrouds when Logan's thunderous voice called out: "Sails! To the south!"

I stopped my climb, heart kicking into my throat with wild hope. I couldn't see shit with our own sails in the way, so I crawled onto the platform and stood next to Folsom, who luckily happened to have a spyglass with him. Out there, cut against the misty horizon, I could just make out the glare of white sails in the sun.

"Can you see it?" I asked whilst I cupped my hands over my eyes.

"Just barely. It's big, s'all I fucking know for the moment."

"Give it to me."

Folsom put the spyglass in my outstretched hand and I took a peek. Three masts... Square rigged sails... Red crosses... Big, like my friend said, but not quite as fat as a treasure galleon should be.

"Well?" Folsom urged. "Is it her?"

My heart withered with dread. I could see a Spanish banner at the aft, but more importantly, I also counted over sixty guns on that ship. Which could only mean...

"No..." I whimpered as I let the spyglass drop from my widened eyes. "It's a--"

"Man-of-war!!" Logan announced far below us. "She's a man-of-war! Spanish banners!"

"Fuck," Folsom hummed in muted panic. "Fuck! It's a fucking guardacosta!"

"Aye, and in this wind she'll be right on our asses before we can say "we're fucked.""

"Which means it's time to go." He whistled at the other riggers and start signalling for them to get ready for the order to flee. "All of you, get into position! Now, you shits, no time to waste wanking off! Move!!"

I returned the spyglass and scurried back down to lend a hand in our escape. However, when I looked toward the Ranger, I was appalled to see her raise the black. Why the hell were they raising the black and exposing themselves?! We're we also hoisting our banner--

The Ranger fired two shots, one after the other. The Walrus shook violently, causing me to yelp and nearly lose my footing. I could feel the iron balls fly past with a wicked wisp as I fought to hang onto the rat lines.

In less than a second, panic seized me in a vicious grip. My mind filled with fog until all I knew was fear. My blood rushed through my veins, drummed loud in my ears. The deck sank away from me fast and though I knew it was only a few meters from me, it still felt like it was miles away. It became harder to breath - I could hear myself wheeze and struggle to take in air, but my lungs refused to work. Flint had once warned me, long ago, that fear would tuck itself in the darkest corners of my brain and strike when I least expected it.

When the center of my vision field started to go black, I knew I was in trouble. If I fainted on the shrouds, high or low, I would fall and break my neck on the rails, or drop into the sea and drown. And this time, Billy wasn't there to help me get down. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped onto the lines with everything I had, forcing my thoughts toward him, trying to imagine what he would have told me in this situation were he still alive.

Breathe, Constance. You're all right, just breathe. Don't mind what's below you, just hold on and breathe. You can do this. You're the bravest woman I know, remember?

Little by little, I started sucking in air again. Keeping my eyes shut, I tried to convince myself I was safe by rubbing my thumbs on the hemp of the lines and toeing up and down on them. I was safe. I was safe as long as I maintained a firm grip.

My heart rate slowed. My skin, cold and hyper-sensitive, regained its warmth. I risked taking a peek through my lashes and refused to look down, kept my eyes pinned to the horizon. The blackness dissipated. I took a tentative step down, then another, until my boot thumped on the railing.

That's my girl, I heard Billy's voice say with pride, and even if it was only in my head, I had to smile. As I continued to hold onto the shrouds, just in case my knees buckled, I brought a hand to the necklace I'd made for him, which I now wore in his honour.

"Thank you, Billy," I whispered. Even in death, he still had found a way to save me. Like he was never truly gone.

Once I felt confident enough to let go, I jumped off the rails and tried to find some useful employment. Logan happened to cross my path, so I went after him. "What's the plan, Logan?"

"Fuck if I know!" He burst, cheeks red beneath his beard. "Flint said to drop anchor and ordered the Ranger to mock fire at us."

"He... what??" I stood in his path to make him stop. "Why?"

"That's what we'd all like to know!"

I shook my head with a frown. "I don't understand, he means to fight that man-of-war?"

"I really fucking hope not, but that's what it looks like, so get ready to die, I guess!" And with that, he pushed past me. I searched the crew for Dufresne and found him with de Groot by the helm. I ran up the highcastle ladder to meet them.

"Dufresne!" I called out over the confusion of running feet and men shouting over each other. "What the hell is going on?"

"Flint ordered the Ranger to raise the black and shoot over our bow!" He was looking about as stressed as the rest of us. "My guess is he wants to lead that ship to believe we are a merchant vessel under attack and lay a trap for her."

"Jesus Christ," I huffed. "Even with the Ranger's help, our chances of subjugating that warship are slim to none! And for what?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," he replied despondently.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Where is he? And where is Gates? We have to put a stop to this and get out of here while we still can."

"They're in the cabin, arguing." De Groot nodded to the quarterdeck. "You could hear them all the way out here, for a while. At least Gates seems to have finally seen reason."

Dufresne leaned in close to me and murmured: "I have the document you spoke of. Let's see how this goes, and then... One way or the other, Flint is finished. Are you in?"

With any chance to still win the Urca dead in the water, I had no reasons left to delay a trial any further. Back in the shrouds, when I was right in the middle of a panic attack, I had remembered a conversation Flint and I had had in that same cabin. Of all people, it was he who had taught me to conquer fear. He had taken a risk by accepting me into the crew when no other captain would have. That still meant something to me, of course it did... But I didn't owe him my life for it. And as for my loyalty to him, it had died along with Billy. Directly or indirectly, he was lost to me because of Flint and his plans.

Had I not paid enough for my loyalty?