The sun is setting behind the lakes horizon, casting oblong dancing shadows on the swaying wood docks.
Soft waves push the ports ships gently into padded rope posts, making loud creaking noises.
Glowing yellow outlines of assembly linemen, flicker against the grey-blue sky, as the men hand pass leather bound crates up the ramp into a large ship. Each package is set on the large wooden table that blocks the open gates to the deck beyond. The linemen relax for a moment, as Salty Bird, (the ships ration officer) carefully inspects the crate. His wrinkled, sun blotched hands shake as he check marks his list and gives nod to bring on the next box. Overhead, large fishing nets full of sail wrapped cargo are being hoisted up and over the mysterious ships intricate hand carved rails.  The ship groans and bobbles under the weight being lowered onto its deck.
The sea port is alive with coordinated activity. Commands and responses are shouted back and forth, losing clarity as they blend  meaninglessly into the canopy of cove noises.

Dusks' darkness was emerging on the bay when the last supplies were loaded.
Salty Bird rolled the last supply papers and stuffed them securely into the tables map box. With a sharp jab of his palm, the thick, metal, key holed lock clicked shut. His old bones creaked as he slowly stood up. He yanks down hard on the lock to insure its closure. His callused fingers fondled nervously at a wooden whistle, hanging from moldy twine, around from his sun baked, turtle skin neck. Salty Bird took a deep breath and blew the 'all clear' signal. He tidied up a bit and took one last look around the check in table. His job was almost done.
Tomorrow, the captain would double check the cargo and ''personally see to the storage whereabouts.''

The heat exhausted loading crew fell out of rank and began dispersing in every direction. The operation managers pushed and shoved their way off the ship, making a mad rush for the Lonely Mermaid Tavern. The newly hired sailors picked up their personal baggage and formed a loose line going onto the ship. One by one, they signed in for duty, were given instructions, then let aboard. Old Salty begins his long descent down the loading ramp, ringing a loud, metal, hand bell.
''All aboard! The Water Witch is in the final hour!''  he said repeatedly. His rough, scratchy voice boomed as he winded through the spongy docks, disappearing into the crowded streets below.
Mangy heads turned angrily when Salty Bird bursts through the tavern doors  announcing the ships launch time.
''The Water Witch is in her final hour! Drink up me hardies, we sail at nightfall!'' he announced fearlessly as he strode past pirate full tables straight up to the Mermaid wrapped bar.
''Now by old Salty a drink or Ill have ya backbones whittled into a fishin rod.'' he snarled as he wiped his crusty mouth in anticipation. A shirtless rogue named Brannigan walked up and slammed a bottle of rum down in front of the old sea farer sending sprays of alcohol over both men. Salty Dog grabbed the bottle and began to chug heartily. The men began to drink with an urgency.
''Many rounds, be put down'' before the ranking officers began to casually stroll towards the awaiting ship.
Everyone of them knowing of the sadistic punishments, that would happen to them, if they were late.
The moon replaced the sun, and the rippled waters turned from bright yellow to dark blue.
Salty Bird staggered up the steep ramp and slurred ''All aboard, who's goin aboard, the devil take the rest''
A wretched screeching pierced the looming darkness as the loading ramp was pulled up and the boarding gates slammed shut. All the ropes were untied and dock monkey pushed the monstrous ship away from the port and into the ominous night.

Delivering custom vassals and precious cargo was their mission. The wealthy Monarchs who were unwittingly funding him his life long ambition, would soon regret their arrogance. What better way to make money and slowly assemble a loyal crew?
This scheme was the brainchild of the companies manager, Sir Thelos Mantinni, also known to the chosen few, as the Captain.
Lord Thelos ''the adopted son'' of Marco Mantinni was known as an honest man with proper schooling and up bringing. With his family connections, the 'royal seal of approval' was easily acquired for each job, and over time  his own society flourished.
The Sea Fare company would solicit applicants openly, but Thelos would screen them personally.
This 'ship delivery' job, had produced enough prospects to round out his own personal crew of cutthroats.
Legally, it was called a business trip, but the whispered word was piracy!

Ever since he saw his  father kill his servant mother, to protect his own status in the house of lords,
Thelos dreamed about commanding a pirate ship. Not just a pirate ship, but one ''plum filled to thee rafters of the most ruthless sea dogs that ever set sail.''
Then he would get revenge on his treacherous so-called father and the house of lords that
helped him. One day his father would know that young Thelos was hiding in the cupboards, bearing witness to the whole dreadful turn of events. He sat there in shock as his mother made the mistake of threatening Marco Manntinni. She said she was leaving and taking Thelos with her. Those were the last words Thelos heard her say before she was strangled and her wrists were slit. The man he had called uncle Marco his whole life, turned out to be his real father, a savage killer and a cunning man with horrible rage.
With no witness, the corrupt officials easily turned the murder into suicide and violent child custody
into false pity adoption, and no one questioned the nobles conclusions.
 

Thelos snapped out of his daydream when a voice from behind said ''Captain, the time to unleash hell upon
snobs and socialites be at hand!'' The Captain turned and faced his rudder man, Mr. Tibbs.
''Aye that it is Mr. Tibbs...that it is!'' he said as he walked towards his cabin.
No more double life, business man by day, ruthless madman by night. No more fake smiles and forced courtesies.
No more hiring henchmen to do deeds he wanted to do, but couldn't cause of the master plan.
His twisted sadistic feelings were going public, and his hit list of ''upper echelon'' was a lengthy one.

Lord Thelos Mantinni slipped into his cabin and discarded his fine tailored suit. He felt himself transforming , as he buttoned up his custom 'captain pirates' war ensemble. An evil, hateful smile was upon the Captains face as admired himself in his life sized mirror. This was it. After tonight he would no longer be called Thelos Mantinni, but the one, the only, the worlds most infamous pirate ''the Captain.'' Even other notorious captains would call him ''The Captain'' he concededly murmur to himself.

The ships cook, Pig Splitter, begins ringing the dinner bell, calling for the crowds undivided attention. His blood stained apron and burly frame giving some of the new recruits an uneasy feeling. After a few moments the Captain appears above the crowd speaking from the high deck.

''Gather round Laddies, its time to pledge the oath. I hope ye clam brain droolers hath yer parts memorized. This brotherhood is only LAW ye be obeying from this day on, we don't be taken a liken to slackers and outsiders! The ritual rules were set in stone and terrible tales were told of those who stepped out of line. ''Now swear it like ye mean it or you'll be beddin with thee anchor!'' The Captain screamed intently, glairing like a insane overlord. He was overflowing with aggressiveness, obsessed with  power madness, the adrenaline making his body tingle with invincibility!
Clearing his throat he starts the oath pledge and the *new crewmen answer his call together:

Well take it all and give em hell, *a pirates life fer you and me!

With no regrets and no remorse, *our heads now priced a live or dead  bounty

So if ye be a seein any of yer brothers, *a hanging from a tree

We say cut him down, cut him down, and fetch up his lonely bones *and toss em into the sea!

Bonded by our bloody words...forever,  *through wealth and misery,

 Once ye be sworn to duty, *only death can set us free.

*brothers we all be!  brothers we all be!  brothers we all be!
They all shouted together three times.

Backs were slapped and hands were being shook, until a musket shot into the air, cutting the celebration short. The men abruptly fell back into attention as the happy noise tapered off and fell silent.
 

''Fall in line, ya lowly dung maggots!'' the Captain screamed.
The men scrambled to form into two straight lines down the length of the ship.
The Captain walked through the motionless rogues, with an unimpressive look upon his brow.
Looking to the right and to the left, he sized up his new force in disgust. When he reached the end he spun about addressing the two lines.
''Now, my little hatchlings....'' he said in a sinister voice, ''pull the cutlass from the rack,.....and say ''all for one and one for all.'' He half turned his upper body pointing to a  smoking grill over his left shoulder. Pig Splitter then raised the lid exposing a cloud of smoke and placed a sword hilt down into the amber coals.
''Take the mark an have the doc bandage it at yonder table.'' Pig Splitter yelled, pointing the direction with his head as he held up his right hand, displaying the burnt scar of an hourglass.  ''A low hush fell over the crowd. This part wasn't in the oath book 'Of Duty and Procedure.' A growing mumble of discontent emerged from the confused men. The all-ready-sworn-and-marked men drew their weapons and took battle stances, encircling the crowd waiting for the battle command.
Suddenly, a young skinny lad, about of twenty years of age, sprang from the crowd and stood dumbfounded in front of the large metal grill. With a crooked grin Pig Splitter grabbed the sword with a pair of blacksmith tongs and raised faintly glowing cutlass into the air. The kids eyes ''lit up big as coconuts'' as he stared at the white hot metal.

Without warning, the brave young man grabbed the hilt and squeezed. The gruesome sound of melting skin sent shivers up the onlookers spines. He squeaked out a painful yelp and tried to say ''all for one and one for all'' but what came out was gibberish, an intangible set of words. The sword fell from his grip, and landed flat on the deck, forever leaving a hourglass burn mark on the cured wooden plank. The ruthless crowd burst alive with laughter. The skinny lad cowered for a second, then to the mocking crowds surprise, picked the sword up from the floor with his other hand. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as his fingers writhed like dying snakes around the branding hilt. He let out a unnerving battle cry ''from the bowels of hell'' as he raised the sword to the sky. Wildly, he thrust downward, stabbing the sword back onto the fire pit, sending amber coals shooting into the air.

The sword sizzled in the grill and once again he had silenced the unruly crowd. ''Little BigMan!'' the Captain yelled from above. ''Ye be my new cabin boy! Wrap yer hands in yonder fish gut rags, fetch yer bottle o rum and get up here, ya crazy fool!'' A hail of ''yarrs'' went up and the new men quickly fell in-line to prove their manhood. One after one, they had the hourglass burned into their palm, and each got a bandage and a bottle of rum.

''Drink up, me mateys, ye be needin it for the Redot!'' the Captain sprayed, rum coming from all corners of his mouth. About twenty minutes later the Captain fires his musket into the air demanding full attention.
''LittleBigMan, show these flat footed momma boys how a real buccaneer takes his dot!'' the captain said almost friendly like, pushing him towards the stairs. The Captain pointed at the bandage table, where a mean pirate covered with strange tattoos sat frowning. His name was Tattle Tale and he frowned as he raised a large needle and dipped it in small red ink bottle. ''Yes, come here boy, I've got pain ye be learning to love!'' Tattle Tale sneered, his scratchy voice like nails on a chalkboard.

Drunk with liquid courage and acceptance, LittleBigMan strode right over to the chair and sat down. ''Hold out yer sword arm'' Tattle Tale rattled in a military sergeants tone. Both of the boys hands went flat out on the table and he smiled a stupid, likeable smile. Tattle Tale shook his head in disbeliefe and placed the needle above the boys right thumb .With precision, he tapped the needle fast and hard with a ball peen hammer. Without a blink of an eye he marked the left hand next. In an instant it was over, but tears automatically flowed from the boys eyes.Without wiping the tears he stood up raising his hands, showing the marks to the crowd. Once again the crowd yelled ''yarr'' and the lines set in behind him. About twenty marks later, a big mangy man sat down and demanded that he get two dots also.''Ye only get one dot like the rest, you over fed baboon!'' ''Now take yer left hand off me table before I gets real mean and nasty like!'' Tattle Tales cold eyes were shining in hope of confutation. The over confident man stood up and tried to stare him down. With fists clenched he nashed his teeth, waiting for the fight to begin.

A great swoosh and 'greeaak' was heard and the fighting mans head flew of his shoulders and rolled into the watching crowds feet. A chunky spray of blood and tissue covered Tattle Tales surprised face. The headless body fell over and the Captain was standing there panting, a wild crazed stare was upon his blood spackled face.

''Now, anyone else be a wantin two dots?'' The Captain said spinning about, slashing haphazardly at the crowd, in a sinister wicked bloodlust full voice. The crowd back stepped in fear and confinement, stumbling over each other. The Captain closed in like a enraged tiger. Looking for any resistance. He was about to cut down another sailor, when he got interrupted by a voice from behind.
'' Look captain, I gots me four dots now!'' LittleBigMan said in a retarded jester like voice. The Captain spun  around with a 'how dare you ' look on his face. There was LittleBigMan at Tattle Tales table, holding up two  tattooed fingers, freshly cut from the headless body. The Captain and other high ranking officers began laughing uncontrollably. The Captain stopped laughing midway and faced the crowd of  un-marked men.

''Some of ye be lucky that little fool is a keg short, sometimes.... killin be contagious.'' he snarled tight lipped. The hard cold reality of being aboard a pirate ship set in. Some of them swallowed hard lumps and others just smiled inside, because they knew they were in the right place.

The Captain stomped off to his high deck and the remaining markings were done without incident. Soon after the last man was ''marked'' the Captain appeared again from the high deck. ''Welcome to the Brotherhood of the Rotten Hand, you are now one of us.'' he bellowed with pride and dignity. ''Follow our laws and carry yer weight. Now, fall inline behind LittleBigMan and take yer pick from yonder pile and report for duty in the mornin.'' The Captain bowed respectfully and disappeared into his cabin slamming the door behind him. The new pledges formed a line behind the little man. Five chests where brought out and dumped on the deck. Each new member selected their choice prize from the piles of assorted jewels, guns, knives, swords and other pirate booty. With child like grins they began rumaging through the massive treasure. Loud noise of the initaiation celebration is heard for miles as they drift off slowly into the black night, towards the river of doom, splinter alley.

Mean while, Silverbones looks up at the star crowded night sadly remembering his old life. Tears roll out of his angry eyes far away from the celebration down below. He sits in silence, hopefully unnoticed, drinking himself into a dreamless sleep, from his hideout in the deserted crows nest. He awoke in the dead of night and crept down into a corner of the ship, and fell asleep again.

The Captain's voice arose with the rising sun. ''Wake up Brothers!!'' he spurted as he randomly dumped buckets of water on passed out pirates that littered the deck. ''Ye all be bound by duty, oath and honor, if ye fail at either one, I'll gut ya and use ya greasy head fer a cannon ball!'' he said as he kicked and pushed the half awake crewman. ''Shake the bottle out of yer heads, we got a ship to deliver.'' the Captain paced down the ship deck firing his musket into the air. Slowly the men began to fall in for duty. The sails began to unfold and the smell of sweet sausage and biscuits filled the air. The anchor was pulled and the ''Water Witch'' began to cut though the choppy waters towards the inlet know as 'Deadmans Shortcut.' Each man was rationed a biscuit and link of sausage, as smells of the great lunch feast filled their nostrils and drove their desire to quickly reach the bay.
By noon they had reached the rivers mouth and the Captain called to drop anchor. ''Eat up, mateys, it may be ye last meal before we lay split open upon yonder river rocks, pickins for thee vultures.'' the Captain said pointing towards the canyon walls. ''But if we get this hunk o wood through the devils smile,'' he snarled, '' WE ALL BE KNEE DEEP IN WENCHES, RUM AND PIECES OF EIGHT!'' Spit flew out of rotten, crooked smiles, and a chorus of ''ayes'' vibrated through the ranks. The crew collapsed the  sails and settled in for a grand brunch.

Silverbones was getting his second helping when he was summoned to the Captain cabin.
Silverbones nervously knocked and pushed cabin door open. The Captain sat at his table with a blank stare upon his brow. ''Come in, Laddie, and bolt thee door behind ye'' he said in a monotone voice. Silverbones thew the plank across the door hooks and turned around. The Captain had a loaded musket pointing at his chest and he was grinning like a mad wolf ready to pounce. ''So, ye don't be a likin our Brotherhood, aye?'' he said squinting his right eye aiming a good spot incase he got the wrong answer. Silverbones mind was reeling on what to say or do.
''The crime for avoiding the oath is death,'' the Captain cocked his weapon, ''and ye didnt swear no alligiance to the Brotherhood last night!'' Silverbones straightened up and said calmly, ''May I remind you Sir, that I'm am not a hired rogue, but a master helmsmen and ship builder, who needs his hands intact, to master his trade.''
The Captain just smirked and shook his head in disapproval. ''I swore my alliance to get you through Splinter Alley and to safeties port, did I not?'' Silverbones said causally. ''My alliance is to mind my own buisness and not repeat anything that happens aboard this ship, and that I swear on my life.''
''Maybe.... maybe,'' the Captain mumbled and released the hammer on the musket and put it on the table,
''ye be getting us through the narrows and Ill give ye another chance.''
''Get us through without a scratch, master helmsman and no one will question yer loyalty, Ill vouch for ye,
now get out before I change me mind!'' the Captain hissed and stood up his menacing form flexing.
''You have thy word on me mothers grave'' Silverbones said bowing and exiting the cabin.
The Captain sat for a long moment remembering his own mother. He cleared his mind and  went out to command this ship through the dangerous passage.

He remembered her laughter and Silverbones shuddered.

Right Click for Mp3

The captain started yelling, snapping Silverbones out of his daydream. ''Turn ye greasy sockets to the starboard bow, me Buckoos.'' A broken, moss-ridden mast lay in the water, a ghastly reminder of the dangers ahead.
''Sails Ho man the rudder!'' the Captain demanded. ''Now obey yonder helmsman, or we all be smashed inta fish chum, on the jagged rocks!''
The sails went up and caught the canyons crosswind, pulling the ship at a rapid pace into the twisting river.
At the front of the ship, facing the river, Silverbones  raised his right hand, halfway. The wide eyed crew pulled sail and the rudder man compensated. The ship turned slightly and lunged into the rapids. The sudden burst of speed sent lesser men tumbling. Below deck, the oarsmen braced themselves ready to help steer this beast.

''Silverbones felt a sense of power, as the whole crew moved behind him like lumbering puppets at his every arm stroke. The red bandanna on his right hand and the yellow on his left, whipped the wind in ballet motions, as he guided the ship though a winding, shallow, narrow river. Silverbones showed no emotion except occasionally yelling for the oarsmen to assist in a tight turn or to slow the speeding ship. With his lead, they started to move as one unit, making twists and turns only madmen would attempt.
Luckily for them, Silverbones was known for being one of the few navigators, that had taken this route safely, more than any other on the whole coast. Silverbones had even strengthened his own legend, by naming this river passage ''splinter alley''. After all, a ship helmsman of his stature and reputation was unparalleled. He had made shipbuilding, sailing and navigation his whole life. He new, the design, the repair, the history, every model of ship to date, and his specialty, navigation. Experience like that was a high paying rank on any vessel, but now his life hinged upon the ships safety. He could feel the Captains black eyes burning a hole in his back, just waiting for a sand bank or rogue rock to give him cause to run him through. Silverbones didn't falter for a second.The Water Witch was one of the most agile warships ever built, and he would know, for he designed her.
Finally, the last turn was made and the a salty wind replaced the stale, stagnate vegitation air of Splinter Alley.
Silverbones fell back in exhaustion as the ship coasted into the opening, revealing the wide open sea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

AYE! ''polly wanna crack yer skull''Har!

Chest Full of Rubies......Under Piles 0f Gold
Wenches and Plunder....We Not Be Growin Old

Visions of Grandeur.......... Have Come to a Halt
Prey Hath Turned Ugly.....Retreat...Were Under Assault!

Screams of Agony........Laughter Crazed Madness
Suicide...Rage........Remorseful Sadness

Tyranny Repaid in Full
And We All Sink DOWN.....

Silverbones awakes in terror, safely aboard the ''Water Witch''

In the misty ocean breeze,
we set to sail the open Seas, tonight.

Stalking our prey from an eye scope away,
till the captain will say, attack with all our might.

Terror on the water,
feared by all who sail and together,
we'll never fail.

Hey! Our destiny, so hail, hail,
Terror of the Sea.

We pledge allegiance one and all,
with Ali Raja in the morning sky.
We rape and we kill, we take what we will,

we live by the sword and by the sword we'll die.

Terror on the water,
feared by all who sail and together,
we'll never fail.
Hey! Our destiny, so hail, hail,

Terror of the Sea.

Make the prisoners walk the plank
and laugh about their ships we sank, to Hell.
We stab and we slash,
as we swing from the mass,
make a cannonball splash,
for all shipmates who fell.

The Captain bursts out of his cabin, striding across deck, clearing a path through the scattered pre-occupied crew.

With a disgusted look upon his face,

He staggers over to the hull and leans down into the galley.

''BRANNIGAN, THE BLOW HAS LEFT THE SAILS HIGH AND DRY. PUT THE WHIP AND THE DRUM, TO YE LAZY CABIN RATS. WE HATH TOLL AND PLUNDER TO ATTEND TO.'' He blurts out, in a dissatisfied tone.

''ALRIGHT YOU SCURVY DOGS,'' Brannigan says, standing up and grabbing black leather whip off a rusty hook from the wall. ''YOU HEARD THE CAPTN,'' he continued while letting the whip unravel on the moldy, dank floorboard. ''FILL YOUR HANDS AND PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT!'' he commanded, followed by a quick flick of the wrist and a snapping of the whip. Scuffling sounds were heard above deck as the sails were pulled in. The disgruntled crew below quickly assembled and settled in for the grueling shift. Streams of sunlight streamed through small-hinged doors, where long oars pushed through the ship on all sides.

Brannigan fastens the whip to his belt and raises his right arm, tightly gripping a thick wooden mallet. His widened eyes reflecting fire from the wall torch, in the dim lit hollow of the ship. His face twisted in a contorted rage as his lips tighten and his mallet arm thrusts down on a large hand carved drum. ''ROW!'' they chant in unison while pushing and pulling on the oars. The ship tossed and turned unsteadily against the uneven waves. The drum master swayed drunkenly while keeping the loose rhythm. The grim faces of the laborers looked forward, eyes set to the drum, rowing in a slow dull rhythm.

The wooden hull reverberated with Brannigans gloom filled voice.

Song 3: Row           LISTEN mp3                                                                                                                

Under a black flag we sail

Dead men tell no tales

Cuz, X marks the spot

All traitors shall rot

Sharin' wenches and gold

but the sea owns our souls

The crews concentration is unbroken by the far off voice from the lookout post.

''LONE SHIP OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!'' Dead Eye screamed franticly, as he leaned over from the edge of the crow’s nest, pointing wildly into the distance.

Without hesitation the Captain spins, face down, leaning into the hull again.

''CEASE ROWING YA YELLOW BELLIED SCAB PICKERS!'' he yammered sarcastically.

With amazing speed for his bulk, the Captain rises, turns and leaps like a panther to the edge of the ship. Glancing out towards the spotting, the Captain raises his head upwards.

''DEAD EYE, WHAT FLAG THAT SHIP OF FOOLS BE A FLYIN?''

Dead Eye now has his eye scope fully extended, steadied with both hands, surveying the situation. ''CAN'T SEE ER FLAG,'' he yells bewildered, ''TO MUCH BLOODY FOG!''

''FOG? IN THIS BLASTED HEAT?'' ''YALL GET THE CAT-O-NINE TALES FOR SWILLIN BUMBOO IN THE PERCH.'' the Captain shakes his fists in a threatening motion, then turns to his right. ''SILVERBONES! WHAT DOES YE EYESCOPE MAKE OF YANDER WHALE BLUBBER?''

Silverbones has already been looking out from the starboard bow. Without lowering his eye scope he calmly says, ''I'VE NOT SEEN A COG WITH THE LIKES OF THAT ONE.........STINKS OF SORCERY SIR.''

A sense of unease is detected in his drudging voice.

''SORCERY?'' the Captain spits out, swinging his arms wildly in an angry fit. ''BLOOMIN DAVEY JONES LOCKER FULL O BLACK LUCK'' he swears out loud as he paces madly towards the back of the ship, kicking and pushing.

Mr. Tibbs snaps the Captain out of his tantrum, when he impatiently asks ''WHAT BE OUR COARSE CAPTN?''

The Captain stops and strokes his greasy beard.

With white knuckles gripping the rudder, Mr. Tibbs and the rest of the alerted crew await in suspended animation, for the Captains orders.

Within seconds the Captain has made up his mind.

''45 DEGREES SOUTH RUDDER! MAKE FOR THE MAINLAND!'' he screams out with authority and thrusts a pointy finger towards the last-seen-lands direction,

Back to ''Splinter Alley'', the way they had just came from.

Brannigan and his crew responding with a new found fury and motivation.

''ROW!'' they yell together, through sweat, thick air.

''WE'LL SMASH EM ON THE REEF!'' Brannigan snaps the whip and smiles to assure his back bent rogues.

''ROW!'' they all yell again, neck veins bulging, without breaking stride.

''NO SHIP CAN OUT FLANK THE WATERWITCH!'' Brannigan snarls, his face looking like a tortured prisoner in the dancing shadows of the hull.

The drum master feels the momentum and begins to push the men into double time.

A question and answer begins that only a seasoned crew could keep.

''ROW''

''HARDER!

''ROW''

''FASTER!

''ROW''

''HEARTLESS''

''ROW''

''BASTARDS''

''ROW''

''HARDER!

''ROW''

''FASTER!

''ROW''

They are moving as one now, no one is yelling, they have become trance like

All their energy focused on rowing. The Captains shadow appears on the top step and grows as it slithers down the steep steps, seemingly spreading out as it reaches the ships floor.

''CEASE ROWING YE FILTHY LANDLUBBERS!'' the Captain yells, drool dripping from the corners of his frowning mouth, down into the row pit.

The men instantly slump over, panting with heat stroke and exhaust, preciously reaching for their water rations.

The Captain straightens up and spins around looking upward again.''CROWS NEST, REPORT!'' he screams while stomping off to the edge of the ship.

''WE AINT GOIN MAKE LAND,'' Dead Eye responds, ''THEY BE STEERIN HEADFAST FOR US. NO SIGN OF HER CREW AND THE CANNON DOORS BE CLOSED.''

''SHIVER ME TIMBERS, THEY BE A CARELESS LOT!'' stroking his beard, the captains stared into the approaching mass. His decisions made, he again yelled out so all could hear, ''LOAD THE CANNONS! MUSKETS TO THE FORWARD BOW! ALL FREE HANDS ON DECK! PREPARE FOR BOARDING! WE'LL SET THE IRONS TO THESE CURSED FATHERLESS SONS OF SEA HAG SWABBIES!''

The crew moved slowly in bewilderment, and it was Mr. Tibbs who brought the Captain out of his daze. ''WHAT BE YE ORDERS CAPTAIN?''

''STEADY AS SHE GOES'' the Captain said in a low psychotic voice.

''RAMMING SPEED!'' he fearlessly commanded

As pulled his pistol out and pointed forward.

''ROW!'' the semi rested crew yelled rejuvenated.

''WE'LL CUT EM IN HALF!'' answered Brannigan his war drum pounding so hard the hair was standing up on the back of their necks.

''ROW!'' the men cried.

''THEY BE SLEEPIN WITH THE FISH TONIGHT!''

Brannigan said with a touch of doubt in his voice.

The drum master feels the momentum and begins to push the men into double time.

A question and answer begins that only a seasoned crew could keep.

''ROW''

''HARDER!

''ROW''

''FASTER!

''ROW''

''HEARTLESS''

''ROW''

''BASTARDS''

''ROW''

''HARDER!

''ROW''

''FASTER!

''ROW''

Once again they are moving as one now, in grunt filled silence, all their energy focused on gaining enough ramming speed to cripple their pursuers. Their faces becoming more desperate and confused, as minutes go by. They give every ounce of strength, keeping true to the oarsman oath, and row till yer heart pops out of yer chest.

The Captains voice cuts the valiant effort short, they are not going fast enough to ram the mysterious ship.

''AVAST ME MATEYS! DROP YER OARS AND PICK UP YER SWORDS! THIS IS IT DOGS, LET'S SHOW THESE SCUM SUCKIN LILLY LIVERS HOW TO BLEED! THEY'LL NOT FIND EASY PREY IN THIS BROTHERHOOD OF JACKALS!'' the Captain yelled with his cutlass drawn and raised towards the sky. The dirty pirates piled out of the row galley, tired of running and ready to die killing, gathered for once last rally.

''NO QUARTER ASKED!'' the Captain yelled in a burning rage of anger.

''NO QUARTER GIVEN'' the blood thirsty crew answered,

Thrusting their weapons upwards in agreement.

Pleading loyalty to the sworn oath, one for all and all for one.

A fight to the death.

NO QUARTER ASKED!

NO QUARTER GIVEN

NO QUARTER ASKED!

NO QUARTER GIVEN

*Excerpts from the diary ‘’Of Revenge and Punishment’’

''...*And the ghost ship did come down upon us,

standing over 8 feet tall, I did see three horrible figures.

Emotionlessly, the malevolent beings stood with their arms twisted outward, their fingers contracting in tense straining motions. Laminated eyes shone faintly

Through the gray black fog that was covering the ''Water Witch’’ like a net of doom.

The men waited for the ''Attack with all your might'' command from the captain, but it never came. The air filled with a deafening sound of unearthly dread. A noise like red hot metal strips slowly being submerged into icy water. Then all hell broke loose.

The crew had abandoned the war charge and the yells of battle rage became mumbles of confused madness. Ranks fell into disarray. Some of the pirates had dropped their weapons fell to their knees and were clutching their ears, screaming in ungodly pain. Others turned their swords on the backs of the nearest pirate in a non-stop slashing of relentless overkill.

It had turned into mate against mate, blood brother against blood brother, self-mutilation and savage gouging of drooling brain dead zombies.

Brannigan lay curled into a corner, seemingly unaware of the danger, babbling nonsense, swinging wildly at unseen terrors in the air.

Dead Eye jumped from the crows nest and landed head first

with a sickening crackle of broken bones. Men were jumping over board and others ran below deck in hopes of escape.

The Captain went into his cabin and kicked open the doors. Seconds later emerging with a torch in each hand. He started setting fire to the sails as he danced gracefully around the fallen bodies like some macabre courtship with death. His hands where becoming bubbling blisters of melted flesh, but he showed no awareness of pain and kept on burning everything he could reach, laughing like an insane hyena.

Mr. Tibbs body had stiffened up, frozen-like, tightly clutching the rudder he was convulsing and staring lifelessly into nothingness. Salty Dog had manned a cannon and shot it into the side of the ship and was franticly loading up for another shot. I was heading for the life boat when

I felt a presence in my mind. Inside my very soul, searching... searching for all bad deeds I did do. I saw my wife and son sitting at the super table smiling. They slowly faded away and I saw my happy face change into a bitter, vengeful, hate filled man. An ugly monster that was hell bent on revenge and death dealing. I saw myself change from Sir John Tafty into a ruthless rogue called SILVERBONES.

Silverbones 1716

The brotherhood of the red hand, the feared terrors of the 7 seas, were completely destroyed. Bodies littered the war torn ship in mangled flesh heaps and pools of dark red. The only sign of life was the ships parrot, which was squawking out every phrase it had ever learned. Its rusty cage bent out of service, it waddled urgently across the blood soaked deck. It zigzagged through the fresh field of death, past the mutilated bodies of its slaughtered keepers. It knew the ship was going down and it was looking for a higher perch heading for the open sky.

''WALKIN THE PLANK, WALKIN THE PLANK, WALKIN THE PLANK

POLLY WANT A DOUBLOON, POLLY WANT A DOUBLOON, POLLY WANT A DOUBLOON

ALI RAJA, ALI RAJA

NEED MORE RUM, NEED MORE RUM

COME HERE WENCH, COME HERE WENCH

ALI RAJA

The tentacle like fog released its deadly grip and began recoiling. The entity shroud merged back into a solid-like shape that covered the massive dark ship.

Still emitting that disgusting sound of crying burnt metal doom,

as it passed, by drifting into the distant.

The Water Witch was full of cannon holes, massive fires and a lifeless crew.

She seemed to moan in pain as her last masts fell and the sea began to pull her down towards a watery grave. In a final death throw, she cracks in half and slipped below the surface in a massive wave and monstrous splash of broken wreckage.

Barely conscious, Silverbones lay on top of a small piece of broken ship wood. His head was throbbing intensely and he was throwing up salt water out of his swollen lungs. He was tattered but he was still alive. He regained his senses and looked all around him, accessing his dyer situation.

Song 4: Wreckage          LISTEN mp3                                                                                                        

*''There lay me beloved Water Witch, all broken about, in oily smoke burned waters; but thy mourning was cut short, by the gurgling screams of me mates being dragged under by the fins that had gathered to finish the accursed Ghost ship's dirty work.....My only hope was to make it through the wreckage and find some flotsam and jetsam to carry me away...somewhere.....anywhere....... but a sharks belly or the bottom of the sea.''

Silverbones 1716

The brief calmness is shattered by the painful screams of the last remaining pirates.

They survived the sinking ship only to find themselves in another dilemma. Fresh corpses and the scent of blood have alerted the hungry deep.

The fate stricken sailors kick and swing franticly but the small broken planks of ship are no deterrent for the sharks on a feeding frenzy. One by one, they are taken below, in bone crushing agony.

Appalled at the savage thrashing, Silverbones paddles through the smoke and debris, away from the carnage. Every muscle in his body is on fire with pain,

but his will to live, has given him a new found desperation.

The fear of having his legs ripped off by a great white, at any moment, fill his mind with doubt and sorrow. This is what he deserved, he decided, death was coming for him and it was welcomed.

Then, like a gift from God, he saw it.

A large wooden box about 20 yards away, floating upright. He rolled off his piece of broken timber and quickly swam towards it. Silverbones squinted through blood shot eyes and his soggy hands reached out grabbing the object. It was the Water Witch’s main treasure chest, the top has been snapped off with violent force, but the padlock was still attached. The lock clanged against the side of the sturdy box with every passing wave, calling to Silverbones like a beacon of safety. All of its precious loot had emptied into the sea, making room for its most valuable cargo……life. Silverbones struggled as he pulled himself into the chest, almost tipping it over. His battered body landed with a soft thud against the hard lacquered wood. His arms and legs dangled lifelessly around the splintered edges. Breathing heavily, he looked up to the blue sky, the world began to spin out of control and he passed out from mental and physical exhaustion.

Song Five: Washed Ashore                 LISTEN mp3                                                                                    

''Washed Ashore'' Painting by Terry Reddinger

....the sea just ignored the madman's ranting's
and the sun continued to beat down with relentless purification...........

GOD, TAKE THIS SALT FROM MY EYES

REPLACE IT WITH BURNING SAND

PULL MY WRETCHED SOUL, FROM THIS WICKED SEA

PLEASE LET ME DIE ON DRY LAND

SUN BURNT, I WASHED ASHORE

CHASED BY DEATH BUT I'M ALIVE

WHO PULLS ME FROM, THIS SHORE LINE GRAVE?

BLURRY SHAPES THROUGH SWOLLEN EYES

AWAKE, I CAN STAND

FACE TO FACE, WITH FRIENDLY SMILES

ISLAND, AMAZON WOMEN TRIBE

IM IN SEA GOD PARADISE

''Though I have escaped the insanity of the unspeakable ones
and a slow treacherous death,
I watch the rolling waves with a heavy heart.
I have many wives and offspring
but I've not yet completed my punishment.
Like some cruel joke, the laughing sea calls to me.
Day after day after day, the sun rises and falls,
and still no sign of a ship.
How I wish I never laid eyes on the Water Witch.
Water Witch!...oh how I hate thee.
I have it all...... but I fear I shall die a lonely man''

Silverbones 1726
   

to be continued........