Prologue 

It was a calm morning, the Captain of a mighty Bark was making his way to Nassau with his friend and Quartermaster, until a shout made the Captain tell his crew to haul in all sail.

“What is it, Archer?” The Captain said with a Welsh accent.

“Look over there on that island, Captain.” Archer pointed with his spyglass at what remained of a man. From what they could see, he had tried to make a raft which had failed. The marooned man had several empty coconuts around him, as well as raw, half eaten fish. His uniform was in ribbons. As he tried to eat a crab’s leg, his shaking made it fall from his hands. The crew began to laugh, pointing as they cracked obscene jokes.

“Quiet!” The Captain bellowed, before pointing at some crew members. “Ahoy! Fetch the jolly boats.”

Part One

Chapter One
I saw a large ship in the distance flying an English flag, and hope flew through me, I shouted and screamed and waved my arms. When I saw the rowboat and two images of men followed, I collapsed onto the boat. My vision was fading, until a voice spoke to me.

“Come here, son,” the man who I assumed was the Captain said to me. I heard the crew crack some jokes, but one stern look from the captain made them silent as dead men. I was barely able to stand, I felt like I was piss drunk, wobbling and shaking. After I fell for the second time, a man helped me up who smelled of rum and tobacco. He stopped in front of the doors to his quarters and turned to face me. “I’m the Captain. Would you like somethin’, lad?”

I nodded. After the cook fixed me some soup and rum, I could balance. I sat on the top deck, drinking my bottle in silence as I stood in awe at what had just happened.

“Maroon!” I heard the Captain bellow. I could make out his face and body: he was slim and tall, with long black hair that was tied back, he had deep brown eyes, and a stitched-up scar arcing from his beard to his nose. His face was fair, sporting a small beard and mustache. He wore a brown, unbuckled trench coat. On his head, he adjusted a black tricorn hat with a red rope tied tightly around it.

“Sir?”

He asked me if I wanted to play some checkers in his cabin. I smiled and nodded, and he called for James.

“Yes, Tom?”
“You’re to take course to Nassau.”

James nodded, I was unsure of why they’d want to go to such a place. “Come on, Maroon.” He said to me as he walked towards his quarters. The crew was busying themselves with minor activities, before James began to bark orders at them. I was impressed by the quarters: there was a large table with a map of the West Indies, a checkers board, the pieces neatly arranged with a few mugs beside it. There was a bed in the far corner of the room, next to the bed were several scrolls and books all sprawled about, a British, Spanish, French, and a black flag all hung sideways next to the door. There was a cabinet next to the table, and another beside it, with a set of four pistols on it. The room smelled of hot candle wax, as the captain lit a candle and sat down, dragging the checkerboard.

“What’s your name, Maroon?”

“Edward, sir, Edward Thorne.”

After he made his turn, he held out his hand for me to shake. “Thomas Arthur Conway.”

When he smiled, I noticed yet another scar clefted his lower lip. “Mind the crew, Maroon, they can be rowdy.”

“I don’t rightly care, sir, I’m just glad to be off that cursed island,” I said, chuckling.

He pointed at me with one of my pieces. His jacket shifted, revealing the top points of a nautical star tattoo crawling up his neck. “I’m noticing a type of accent, Maroon, where are you from?”

“Cove Bay, Scotland. You, sir?”

He nodded in interest. “I’m from Swansea. James, above us, is from Kinsale.”

My eyes widened. “The Navy let in an Irishman?”

That’s when the Captain laughed softly. “Whoever said we were the Navy?” I laughed, and when he didn’t, my voice died. We stared at each other for a moment, and I thought he’d draw his sword, but then he laughed loudly. “By Jesus, you are somethin’, Maroon!”

I chuckled uncertain. “I guess I am, sir.” I was about to make my turn when we hit a large wave, making all the pieces scatter on the floor.

“Damn! I guess there goes the game.”

Chapter Two
After we picked up all the pieces, he instructed me to go meet the crew below deck, a man named Samuel Archer, a muscular man with several scars on his face, a tattoo depicting a dagger through a rose on his shoulder down to his elbow, no hair on his head, and big blue eyes was to escort me to my quarters.The man towered over me, and his hoarse voice made him all the more intimidating. He presented to me a set of flat canvas hammocks, a small knapsack hanging up from one side. It smelled of wet wood and salt, no different from the Songbird. “You’re on that bunk, next to me. Any questions, ask me, Mad Eye, or Caroline.” He said in a low voice, which made me not ask any questions, other one.

“Sir?”

“Just call me Archer. What?”

“There’s a female on this ship?” He looked down at me before answering, it made me step back. “I thought women aren’t allowed to sail, Archer.”

“Maroon…” He put his finger in front of me, before pointing directly at me, his fingertip gently grazing my nose. “... you are in no position to insult the crew that just saved your sorry arse.”

I took a step back and nodded meekly. “Aye-Aye, Sir.”

He smirked, giving my shoulder a hard pat. “Glad we’re on the same page, follow me.”

We walked back to the open deck, and was blasted by the salty air as all sails were set loose and we made way. The sun was setting.

“Maroon! Come ‘ere! I got something for ya!” James cried from the deck near the main mast.

I walked to James, Archer following closely behind me. As I walked closer toward the main mast, I began to make out long blonde hair, trailing down to his bright blue eyes, one of which looking more to the right than the other, which was on me. He wore a tattered vest and striped breeches. He seemed my height, but far more muscular, and took out a quill, tipped with ink. “What’s this about?”

“Look up, lad.” James said in a menacing voice, smirking.

I looked up, and heard the raising of a flag as a crowd gathered around me. The flag was black. My heart sank to my stomach. I quickly turned to run, but I was stopped by Archer’s pistol to my head.

“What are you doing, lad? We’re six miles out to sea, Maroon!” laughed James. “You either become part of us, or you’ll die.”

I slowly turned around. “How will you kill me?” I swallowed thickly.

James unsheathed a cutlass and walked towards me. My heart pounded into my ear, I thought I’d vomit. “Do you really wan’ know tha’, lad?”

Chapter Three
“Enough!” The Captain roared, and we all turned to see him rushing towards us, the ends of his red rope trailing behind him. “James, Sam, what the hell has gotten into you?!”

Archer put his pistol away, and James sheathed his sword. “Captain, I thought he’d rat us out!”

Before I could speak, the captain stepped beside me, and put his arm around my shoulder. “Lad, were you plannin’ on being a rat?” He whispered to me.

I shook my head, and then he released me to address the crew. “Alright, lads! Everyone back to their stations. Maroon! Er…. Edward, you either sign that article, and leave his Royal Highness behind, and become a man of your own terms… or we can hold you in the brig until we get to Nassau, and leave you on your own.” He threw his hands up in a shrug. “It’s your choice, lad.”

I looked towards him, then to James, and then the article. I took James’s quill and shakily signed my name under numerous others: Edward William Thorne. Then, as soon as I put the quill down, the deafening silence became a roar of excitement.

“Welcome to the crew of the Bloody Banshee, Maroon!” James put his big arms around me and lifted me up. I smiled shakily, and looked at the group of people of all different colors and accents. My heart was still pounding, but out of excitement, anticipation... I laughed. It’s hard to imagine that the man who aimed a gun at me was now parading me.

“Rum’s on Maroon tonight boys!” Archer said, and everyone cheered in response. “Let’s go, Lad!” He said before picking me up and lifting me over his head. “Look a’ ‘im! Light as a feather!” He said as he brought me downstairs.