The Privateer

“Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails.

Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails.

Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails,

And we'll all hang on behind.

And we'll roll the old chariot along,

We'll roll the old chariot along,

We'll roll the old chariot along,

And we'll all hang on behind.”

Ashley McGuinness stood tall on an old crate singing against the gale that blustered against the old pier. Waves crashed hard into the rocks, tossing salted water over his already salt-stained coat.

“Shut it, Ash!” A woman called from inside the old wooden alehouse. “You’ve been singing that same song for hours and you’re scaring away customers!”

“Oi! You Shut it, Molly! I was a Privateer you know! You should show me some respech...”

Molly the bartender rolled her eyes, shaking her head as the rain started to patter steadily on cobblestone pavement out front of the old, greying, pier-side shack.

Ash stumbled down from his podium, throwing himself against the building. He closed his eyes, humming the next part of the old Shanty. His bearded and gaunt face slowly nestled itself comfortably into his chest.

Tonight he wore his same old, grungy, and tattered blue, white, and gold British Royal Navy uniform. The bicorn hat he wore lopsidedly fell to the muddy ground as he slept away the drunkenness.

“Oh my... look at the quality of man the old British Navy contracted.”

Molly heard three men talking out front of her tavern, laughing with each other. She came to the door as the tallest one kicked Ashley’s mud-covered boot aside like he was some sort of refuse.

“Good evening Sirs, welcome to Molly’s Seabreeze Tavern and Inn. Did your lot just come off of HMS Victory? I heard that you were all making port this evening.”

The tallest of the three approached the doorway with his hat in his hand and one arm under his blue coat.

“Yes Madam, we are indeed from HMS Victory. We happened to pull into port a short while ago, lucky as well. Look at this weather. Acting Captain Avery Hubbard at your service.”

The young, blond-haired man bowed slightly. His two lackeys stood fast.

“Tell me, Miss Molly. Do you have many vagrants here in Halifax? And does this one normally hang out in front of your establishment?”

Captain Hubbard pointed to Ash with his bicorn, a disgusted look on his face.

The rain began to pour, slamming its soothing melody into the tavern’s tin roof. Avery put his hat back on his head to shelter from the onslaught.

“Captain Hubbard. Ash is a good man, he was a Privateer. He fought for the King just like you all do, you should show him some respect. His ship went down fighting the Americans, he’s the only survivor. Poor soul drinks his sorrows away.”

Hubbard looked at the passed-out sailor a second with a grimace.

“Yes, well... Privateers. Miss, do you have any beds for the night? We would all like some good night's rest, food, and drink after being out to sea for so long. We have money and will pay.”

Molly nodded and stepped aside allowing the three sailors into the building. Ash woke himself up with a loud snore and broke back into the song, standing up and stumbling towards the entrance.

“...Oh, we'd be alright if we make it around the horn

We'd be alright if we make it around the horn

We'd be alright if we make it around the horn

And we'll all hang on behind!”

Ash found Molly blocking his way.

“Molly, is that you?” He leaned closer to her and squinted.

“Ash, you need to come back later. The Royal Navy has men here. I don’t want any trouble.”

Ash stood a moment and laughed, yelling into the Tavern.

“Royal Navy! Those blokes have nothing on us Privateers. They were armed to the teeth and still couldn’t stop the Yanks! Bunch of blowhards!” Ash yelled over Molly’s shoulder.

Sailors pushed by, sending him falling off the stairs and into the wet street next to his old hat.

Molly hurried out of the door to help him up, while the people from inside laughed and mumbled quiet abuse towards the old Privateer.

“Ash, honey, please go get some rest. Once they start drinking,” she begged him as she pulled him up from the mud.

“Go on now...” She ushered him away.

Ash turned and yelled once again,

“Blowhards!”

He then began to stumble through the rain and out onto the piers, singing at the top of his lungs at the storm clouds above. Great wooden ships bobbed up and down around him, lightly knocking into each other in time with the wind.

“And we'll roll the old chariot along

We'll roll the old chariot along

We'll roll the old chariot along

And we'll all hang on behind”

As Ash sang, he walked. He began the next verse grabbing a bottle of what looked like rum that was sitting atop a pile of supplies. He ripped the cork off with his teeth and took a long drink.

“Ah, England’s finest.” He laughed, drinking down another gulp. The brown, semi-sweet liquid burned as it went.

“Well, a nice watch below wouldn't do us any harm

Well, a nice watch below wouldn't do us any harm

Well, a nice watch below wouldn't do us any harm

And we'll all hang on behind”

Ash stopped mid-song, looking drunkenly at a giant blue and white ship, emblazoned with HMS Victory upon its side. He turned to face it and snapped to attention, almost falling over.

“Able…” he sniggered, “...Seaman Ashley McGuinness reporting for duty your grand Majesty of Majesties. Onward to the Indies!”

The drunk man marched haphazardly towards the gangway stopping at the end and turning.

At the top stood two uniformed men with muskets guarding the entrance. Ash began marching up the wooden platform, the guards met him with muskets crossed.

“Royal Navy personnel only. I’ll have to ask you to leave, sir.” one of the men said coolly.

Ash looked at him a moment, his head swimming. He took another drink from the bottle of rum and replied mockingly.

“Royal Navy Personnel only, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Blah blah. Blowhards... I was in the Royal Navy. A Privateer mind you. I fought the Americans. What have you done? Hmmm? You fought Americans?” Ash pointed a finger into one of the guards' chests, wobbling a bit.

“Sir, you will have to leave. You can’t be here.” The other man said, stepping forward a bit and putting a hand on Ash’s shoulder.

“We don’t want any problems here. Thank you for your service to the King, but please, just go before Captain Hubbard comes back.”

Ash laughed, “Service to the King. Like I had a choice. Like any of us had a choice!” The two guards snapped to attention.

“What have we got here?” a gruff voice from behind him spoke.

Ash turned around taking a drink of the rum he had. Seeing the man's stripes he came to attention mockingly.

“Able Seaman Ashley McGuinness. Reporting for duty.” he chuckled at the end, taking another drink.

Captain Hubbard stared silently.

“Did you steal that bottle of rum from his majesty?” Hubbard pointed at the bottle with a gloved hand.

“So what if I did? It’s the least his Majesty could do for me.” Ash responded crossly.

There was a loud crack and a plume of white smoke. Ash felt a pain in his chest as he fell to his knee. He looked down as blood poured from his torso, then looked back up at the Captain, confused.

“Filth...” the Captain pushed Ashley aside, watching as he fell into the churning ocean below.

“Enjoy the abyss, wretch.”

Captain Hubbard strolled onto the ship and out of sight without another word.

Darkness… cool, calming abyss.

“Ashley…” a voice called from far away.

“Am I dead?” Ash responded. His voice bubbled and floated away to the surface.

The wall of sleep overtook him once again.

“Ash… Avery Hubbard, John Abner, Rachelle Karmine, Richard Foley…” a list of names rolled through his head over and over again, repeating as he slept.

“Ash, wake up.” The voice was loud this time,

Ash opened his eyes. The water was murky and dark, but it seemed he could see for miles.

He thought for a second, trying to remember.

“Avery Hubbard…”

Off he swam into the depths, it was like a beacon calling to him. Ash moved incredibly fast like he was some sort of sea creature that had been swimming its whole life.

After what felt like ages of gliding through the cold and salty sea, Ash arrived at the hull of a blue and white ship. He climbed the side planks with his hook and knife entering a porthole in the wall.

An older gentleman sat behind a desk, not noticing Ash had entered the room. He busied himself with ink, papers, and maps. Working silently in the candlelight.

Ash spoke after a long silence.

“The bottom of the ocean ain’t no part of this world. I sank so deep, there wasn’t an up or a down. I sat suspended in the abyss for so long. It was so quiet down there…” Ash walked slowly around to the front of Captain Avery’s large oak table.

“Then she came and whispered to me a list of names... I awoke from that darkness, renewed, and started to swim. I swam for so long, not sure where I was going. Then, I ended up here. On your ship, and in your cabin. Wonder why that is?”

The Ghoulish spectre stood, seaweed draped about its body, its tattered red and white sailor's clothing steadily dripping on the cabin floor in front of Captain Hubbard.

The ghoul's skin was a cold hue of blue that rivalled even the deepest parts of the lightless Arctic oceans.

The Ghost turned to him, a rusted fishing hook and chain clutched in its rotting hand. The thing continued to speak in its gurgling, eldritch voice,

“I don’t remember you. Though I feel I should, Captain Avery Hubbard. You are on the list. That means your time is up.” the beast seemed to smile from the side of its open cheek.

Its teeth were gnarled green and yellow.

“Don’t worry friend, everyone’s gotta sink sometimes...”

The Drowned Ghoul walked to the desk Hubbard sat behind. It pushed the maps and charts aside, slamming its hook into the desk's wooden flesh.

It stood for a moment, staring through the Captain with its glowing blue eyes. He seemed frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

The ghoul snapped out of its trance and grabbed the two crystal tumblers from a tarnished silver tray that sat on the corner next to Avreys old browning globe.

It reached for the paired decanter, pulling the stopper from it. Liquid drained into the glasses and the ghoul slid one over to Avery with a boney finger.

“Why are you on the list, Captain Hubbard?” It asked flatly, standing menacingly over the cowering old man, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“No one here but you and I… You ain’t got much time left old man.”

“By God, leave me, Devil. In the name of Jesus Christ. Leave here!”

The Captain pushed himself back and scrambled to his feet, pulling a cutlass from his leather sheath. His old and wrinkled hands trembled as he stood too.

“I am a Captain in His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

The Ghoul chuckled,

“God? there are no Gods. There are only the Deep Ones and your royalty cannot save you from them.”

It finished its drink, throwing the glass at the trembling Captain.

Avery moved aside, quick for his old age. The Ghoul vaulted towards him, ramming its dread hook into the old man's neck with an unnatural force of speed. The Captian attempted to parry, but to no avail.

The Captain’s eyes went wide as the Spectre dragged him, like a butcher dragging a hunk of meat, through the double doors that lead to a small balcony at the aft of the ship.

Up and over the railing the Ghoul went with a smile, diving into the depths. Avery watched in horror as the chain sang its metallic song, following the drowned spectre into the darkness.

Avery dropped his weapon, yanking and pulling desperately trying to free himself. Seeming not to notice or care that every movement of the blasted hook helped bleed him, like some sort of stuck animal.

The world began to fade into blackness as Avrey fell to his knees, crimson flowing like wine down his chest. His hands flailed helplessly, grasping at what they could. The rusted iron links disappeared into the dark, one after another.

Over the edge and into the deep brackish blue Avery went. The Ghoul continued to swim, deeper and deeper, dragging the Captain behind him.

“Some will fight, some will bargain. Take them all Ash, until the list is empty.” A voice spoke to the Ghoul from somewhere,

“Will I be free then?” he replied, light disappearing from around him.

There was no response.

“Onto the next then...” he said, yanking its chain from Avery’s lifeless body.

Ash turned and watched as the Captain sank to the depths out of its sight.

“Welcome to the abyss, Captain Hubbard...”