Part 20 —Buffoonery—

*That night of that day was terrible. Every four hours, I was woken up for night shift duty and every four hours of completing it, I got to sleep again and that painful process repeated for the whole night which really troubled my sleep schedule.*

*The next day I woke up all drowsy. It was duty time of the starboard watch then and the larboard watch had to do drills and stuff in which in the musket shooting drills I was quite good at getting an average of three shots a minute. And on the even better side, I was finally in Mr. Riversgate's cabin.*

*"Mr. Jeremiah, Ah finally here you are!" He greeted me wholeheartedly, while pinching is beard with two fingers.*

*"Good morning sir!" I tried to sound as enthusiastic as I could.*

*"Well, well, well, how can I put this. Yesterday, you said something that really 'bugged' the officers at the table" I didn't really like the sound of his words.*

*"My apologies, sir"*

*"No need of that sir!" He laughed. "I'm just here to test and teach you about how to fit with- um" His tone died down, and I despised that. "-these buffoons, while not being one"*

*Then he gave me a full speech about these tips and tricks. How to stay with idiots while not being one, how to not be made fun of, who to trust and not to and all of that.*

*"Any questions?"*

*"Sir, I have one, since the whole point of the navy is dominating the sea by the military, and military basically means fight, what can we possibly do if a much larger Seraphinian fleet attacks the convoy?"*

*"Mr. Jeremiah, you see, first of all, it really annoys me when someone says 'Seraphine', that's just the silly name we gave for the Empire of Erstanduer. Seraphine is a name for a female that means fire, and females are weak, and fire is bad. So it's accurate, except for the weak part. Because neither female nor the Empire is weak, in fact I must admit as a patriot of our country that the Empire is much more fierce and powerful than us"*

*"Yes - sir, but it has became sort of a habit"*

*"Anyways, to what I was talking about, combat at sea is a bit . . . rare. Some careers go with no action whatsoever. Examples of such are the entire crew of this ship except for the Captain, me, Mr. Evans, Lester and you. The only thing closest to action is capturing a bunch of merchant ships but no blood was lost on both sides. In fact, this ship has never ever opened fire at another ship, not even firearms”*

*“Sir, so I have to expect a really uneventful journey?”*

*“Yes exactly Mr. Jeremiah! But why such a strange and obsolete question?"*

*"Sir, hungry for Serap-, Erstanduen blood"*

*He laughed and said: "We all are!"*

*And then with permission I left the room, smiling, "A nice middle aged man" I thought.*

*Aloft on the f'c'stle was quite a scene. For I cannot describe the silliness of what happened there.*

*A fight over a stone between the marines and the crew. You see, when the voyage started, one of the seamen brought a sack of stones, actually two sacks. The purpose? Stone-skipping for leisure. You see, it gets extremely boring at sea. You sleep in extremely uncomfortable and confined claustrophobic spaces below deck were a hundred other men are sleeping. Anyone farts, everyone sweats and snores, no air conditioning (That isn't even invented yet! Who wrote that!), and most don't wash after excreting. So, the stench is god awfully terrible, actually, there isn't anything to describe that smell. After you wake up, you work all day long, and during leisure time between shifts you do nothing unless you want to catch rats. So most sailors of this kingdom skip stones for fun. They compete against the marines and the side who gets more skips than the other in total, they win a quarter-farthing each. And I heard if they're really bored and the crew is high on rum, they skip cannonballs by shooting the cannons at a specific angle, which is probably not even possible.*

*So they fought. Who gets to skip next.*

*"I'm really good, let me try!" Said a marine.*

*"I've never done this ever! Let me try once!" Said a sailor.*

*"I've been watin' for my turn foreva'!" Said Midshipman Sanders in a horribly strong Criferan accent.*

*The arguing turned into fighting, the punching turned into stoning. Until Acting-Lieutenant Gerrard Lakerton fired a blank musket round to silence the crowd. "Enough! You simple minded dolts!"*

*"Who did you say that to? you little prick!" A marine 2nd Lieutenant aggressively said.*

*"I'll inform the captain Mr. Rick!" Mr. Lakerton angered, while also rhyming.*

*"My apologies! I am afraid I forgot who I was talking to"*

*He didn't note the apologies, angrily, he came to the scene, strongly snatched the stone out of a sailors hand, and threw it at the sea, skipping it sixteen times -the most I've ever seen-and said. "Today's game is inconclusive, everybody! Back to stations or below deck!"*

*That was the end of the drama. Harsh.*

*The next few days were practically the same. Everyday I woke up to the sound of men crying from getting flogged for breaking orders, and everyday I was supposed to enforce discipline in the marines who enforced discipline on the crew and command Mr. Evan's crew when he didn't care. This went on for a long while, for four more days. The fifth day, was Sunday. And that meant that it was the chaplain's duty.*

*Wayne Lee, the ship's chaplain, read out the treatise of discipline in the navy, and a bunch of holy reminders.*

*"Number twelve! Do not ever under any circumstance try to fire a cannon before order during combat, the punishment for this is three whips! Number thirteen! gentlemen must not catch rats, indeed it is animalistic and immoral, the punishment for this is in hell! That was my final say, exiting, sincerely, as Mr. Lee, and may God-"*

*"Captain sir! Erstanduen merchants to larboard!" A crewman shouted. The crewmen started going wild, despite how many times the chaplain told them not to. Many Huzzays were shouted here and there. They were just about to get prize money.*

*"Well, let's see what the Admiral has to say, we can't just break orders and catch them on our own, we need orders first! So stop acting like stray sheep!"*

*The happiness died down. And we waited for a rowboat or two deployed by the Admiral's flagship to come to us and order to chase or stay.*

*As we waited, I walked to the larboard rim of the ship to see the merchant vessels. It was actually a fleet, a small one though. Two Tartanes, a Barque, and a sad looking Brigantine, escorted by two military Corvettes, so that does prove the fact that they were a part of Serapish international trade. While I was wondering how much prize money I could get from them, Mr. EvansEvans rested his arm over my shoulder, the seventeen year old midshipman spoke to me "Well sir, your moment of glory"*

*"If only we are allowed to engage, sir"*

*"Mr. Jeremiah, may you look behind"*

*A pinnace sailed to our ship to inform us by reading out and giving a note that read. "Admiral Lord Hughes expects that the aforementioned ships shall intercept the convoy". The aforementioned ships were "HMS Caracal (Frigate of 36 guns), HMS Alliance, HMS Margaret (Frigate of 32 guns), HMS Thalassa and HMS Trout (Schooner of 6 guns)". Basically, that meant that, and thus we had some bloody work to do, if any weapon would be drawn out in the first place. But there is a problem being in the rearmost section of the fleet. You can't get to the enemy quickly, I guess the reason why they sent this ship to "combat" is because she and her crew hadn't faced it in many, many years.*

*So off we went, full sail. We formed a line astern the HMS Alliance and headed to catch the convoy, which sadly was quite fast.*

*At 11:34, in a line, well far off from the main fleet, just a hundred yards behind the small convoy. The bells rang, and the whistle blew. The marines started loading their muskets, as we approached our targets, the Thalassa targeted a Tartane for her hungry belly.*

*"Beat to quarters!" I shouted, as it was part of my duty. "Beat to quarters!"*

*The whistles of other ships started ringing too. I was just about to order "Swab the bore" but then realised that the starboard f'c'stle guns, the gun battery I was in charge of, never fired a shot, so I didn't need to do it, and just ordered to worm it first just in case. When I was just about to order to add the wadding. An order came.*

*"Hard to larboard!"*

*The mercantile vessels were each scattering into different directions so it created difficulties in chasing them. And one of the Tartanes went far larboard, sailing close-hauled. But we had the weather gage. The ship nearest to the Tartane was the Brigantine.*

*With all guns and muskets loaded, all men alerted, the Captain said "Enough of the boredom, bloodshed em' red! Death shall they be fed!"*

*The marines gathered in three linear rows on the bow, all muskets targeted towards the trade ship, every musket shoulder to shoulder -front row crouching- on their woven yellow epaulettes, and white uniforms with gold coloured waistcoats and khaki pants.*

*While we came closer and closer, with trimmed sails, the Tartane moved further and further, adding stuns'ls on their small mizzenmast containing just one small square sail.*

*But then the Captain of the Marines Sir Peter Herrings ordered fire, and for the first time in the Thalassa's history, that actually happened.*

*The noise was loud, and the smoke was a plenty. The marine soldiers fired a volley at the sails of the Tartane. Tearing many holes in the lateen rig of the mainmast of the Serapish ship.*

*The marines moved out of the way to reload and allow space for the bow cannons that were being loaded with chain-shot and also unfurl the sprits'ls.*

*I was given charge of one of the four nine-pounders as the gunnery officer and a portion of my crew was aiding me.*

*I started ordering them. "Dave, ram the powder! and you, um, roll the chain-shot inside! And Andy Steph!"*

*"At your service!"*

*"Ram it down, and Jerry, add the wadding and ram it down, I'll prick the powder, perfect, and now we just have to aim, lift the barrel 50 degrees!"*

*Now we just had to ignite the touchhole. But we needed just the perfect range, so that the chance of missing goes from 2% to absolutely none.*

*But then out of nowhere came a series of excruciating and painfully loud blasts and bangs and thuds somewhere from the ship, but we hadn't even fired our guns.*

*Hundreds of wooden splinters fell here and there, piercing the skins of many poor men, all happened onboard our ship, surely a powder barrel exploded. But then a man fell down near my leg, I looked down to check the body if he was alive, but the body had . . . had . . . no head.*

*What?*

*I turned back, and saw more men dead or crying out in pain, their legs and arms torn apart. Dozens screaming for their mothers, some cursing. The cry that hurt me the most was "Why did I not shoot the press gang!"*

*Then I looked at the cabin, it had a massive hole enough to fit a coach, and I understood what happened by seeing what was astern the ship. One of the corvettes raked the Thalassa.*

*And then I thought of the officers that got wounded or died, most especially Mr. Riversgate.*

*After I quickly ordered fire at the Tartane, disrupting the sails and the spars, I ran to the ship's quarterdeck, looking to aid the officers that were wounded or worse, dead.*

*I saw a gruesome sight, from afar in the quarterdeck it looked bad enough already, but from up close it was much much more bad. I became like a sure-footed mule trying not to step on any of the wounded or else I'd have killed them.*

*And there, on the quarterdeck I saw a sight that was quite relieving yet still nasty. Thankfully Mr. Lakerton, the Captain and Mr. Riversgate were fine, and that's all I needed. They were carrying the wounded sailors below to the surgeon, still no bleeding or dead officer in sight-*

*"MISTER MOORE!" I cried out.*

*He lay there flat, on his back, not to hurt him more by rhyming that. His legs were gone, one knee high, and one hip high. And a large wooden splinter stuck on his chest. He had no power to speak.*

*The surgeon came running from his quarters after he was informed , trying to carefully pluck the splinter out, and started bandaging his leg. But he somehow managed to utter: "Go away, tend the others, for it is more profitable" Then pointed at a shard of iron stuck on the side of his back, somehow it remained hidden from our eyes until then.*

*Grapeshot! the nasty Serapish were using canister and grapeshot! Not fair! not fair! but this is war, and this is not the last time you'll read of that.*

*Mr. Moore closed his eyes, and drops of water dripped from my eyes, despite how much I hated that fellow.*

*The corvette sailed to our larboard. And our guns roared.*

*A terribly loud sound. The round shots tore through the hull of the corvette. And I imagined Erstanduen sailors going through the same thing as we did. From the corvette came a blast, not of cannonballs, but of a powder casket or a cannon exploding. The corvette fired back, but all of her guns fell short, except for one which caused a leak in the keel. More work for the carpenter I guess, if he was alive.*

*I was surprised how quickly our guns were loading. Years of training finally to use. And the guns again roared. This time causing a fire onboard the corvette, and it was forced to retreat, and to this day no man knows what happened to that ship.*

*The surgeons were now on full duty mode while the chaplain was blessing the men that were dying. I, along with Mr. Riversgate and Lakerton were ordered to keep track of the Tartane, firing at the sails with the chain-shots of the bow chasers. That didn't work in slowing it down because the chain shots only tore the sails and none were lucky enough to hit a spar and also because the corvette knocked down our mizzensail . . . yeah, you get the point.*

*But then some idiot had a plan, a terrible one, he turned out to be the ship's cook, and he had an idea that was basically set a  bottle full of oil on fire and throw it at the Tartane's sails to burn it. Genius.*

*When he ignited the bottle and threw it, guess what happened? It extinguished midair. That's why fire-arrows aren't a thing. You throw a flaming match at someone looking to burn them, doesn't work. Fire doesn't like being extremely quickly moved. That's why throwing grenades requires so much skill.*

*Anyways, the bottle fell on someone's head on the Tartane and that did the trick. The Tartane was still ahead of our ship. So we tried battering it into submission by loading double rounds inside the cannons. Didn't work. Until the wind picked up, and we finally now were just besides the ship. And we threw the hooks. Mr. Lakerton was given command of a boarding party with a couple marines and junior officers including me. We all drew our swords (I took out the Piragua) and leapt across our ship to the Tartane.*

*"Surrender yourselves in the name of King Rafael II the Great!" Mr. Lakerton gave quite a speech to the Serapish captain. It turned out that he didn't actually speak Marteunish.*

*"Mr. Jeremiah, uh, can you speak Erstanduen, sir??" Mr. Lakerton asked me. I thought he'd go away and asked someone else but he stood his 'ground' (more appropriately to the situation 'deck') and stared at some on my hands in awe. It was the Piragua.*

*"Sir, is that really, uh, um, Captain Lancelot's-"*

*"Yes sir, this sabre was passed down and gifted to me me. And I thought this wouldn't be much of a surprise for I am the great-grandson of Captain Lancelot Jeremiah and I assumed you would have known this already" I answered nervously as other people including the Erstanduens were staring at the Piragua.*

*"But- but-"*

*"Sir, I am able to speak Erstanduen" Mr. Evans calmed the situation, diverting everyone's mind into the more important thing.*

*"Very well sir, go on!"*

*Confidently, he approached the unarmed Tartane's captain.*

*"Ereben-vous sich aunom namen du Roinig Rafael le ravi !"*

*The captain didn't seem to be intimidated at all and spat on Mr. Evans face. Normally anyone would punch him back but Mr. Evans controlled himself knowing that this would turn into a full blown fight and someone would die or leak blood because one side had weapons.*

*The Erstanduen captain shouted in anger at Mr. Evans face. "Tu drekighen Valeraenian bâtards !"*

*I don't understand what that mean't, but from the little Erstanduerish I know it probably means "You (something blah blah) Valeraenian bastards!"*

*He then spat again on Mr. Evans, this time on Badge of Bravery, which he earned from leading a risky boarding party to capture a Welksarian Fourth Rate when he was the midshipman of a Third Rate five years ago.*

*"Dois-ich bastęllene 'aux arms' ?" Mr. Evans said, no idea what that means.*

*The Erstandueran Captain raised his arms in surrender. And ordered his crew to lower the colours.*

*"HUZZAY!" Everyone including I cheered.*

*"Mr. Richardson, may you inform the captain that the Tartane is captured and we need more men to transfer the spices to the Thalassa?" Mr. Lakerton said.*

*"Aye sir!" Mr. Richardson said.*

*Carrying the cargo back to the Thalassa was tiring, we also imprisoned the crew of the Tartane into the brig and also a small portion of the crew was sent to man the Tartane, and guess who lead it? Lester.*

*We then sailed happily back towards the main fleet.*

*The brigantine ran away never to be seen again but rest of the entirety of the convoy was captured the day after the Tartane was captured. Ludicrous amounts of prize money. At noon when I was on duty with no duty to do I was just imagining myself in a pile of money and-*

*"Sir" Mr. Nathaniel Evans approached to me and said. "Captain's compliments"*

*When I entered the captain's quarters, there was Lester standing right besides the captain who was sitting on a chair and desk. Mr. Riversgate was also there. And something told me that this was something serious.*

*"Mr. Jeremiah" The captain said.*

*"Sir" I remained confident.*

*"About the incident of what happened in the orlop a few days ago. Is that really true?"*

*Lester was horribly scared, nervous, sweating, possibly a wet pant, but I couldn't forgive him.*

*"Yes sir, very much indeed"*

*"I'd rather trust a man who is covered in bruises than a man who has already fled the admiralty's wrath, twice"*

*I managed to suppress my smile, Lester was doomed.*

*"Sir, I can safely say that this Jeremiah is a liar!" Only thing that Lester had to protect himself. Mr. Riversgate kept quiet, he already knew I'd win this without his help.*

*"You see, no one will be right or wrong in here. Despite how much proof Mr. Jeremiah has. There is still a possibility that Mr. Bellamy is correct"*

*Lester made an evil smile at me.*

*"Well a duel shall decide this, that is certain" The captain said.*

*"A duel to the death, sir" Lester said. "By pistols"*

*"By swords!" I demanded. "Pistols are an even chance! Pure luck!"*

*"Captain, Mr. Jeremiah has his great grandfather's Piragua! He's trying to get one over me! It'll be an uneven chance!" Lester protested.*

*"Then a duel with ordinary sea service cutlasses!" I said.*

*"But then what's the purpose of a pistol duel, sir? God will let the one who is righteous to succeed!" Lester said, despite not believing in God.*

*"Couldn't be more fair, Mr. Jeremiah" Mr. Evans said from behind.*

*"Agreed" The captain said. "We shall have a cutlass duel -haven't seen one in a long while- At two bells this afternoon!"*

*I then with permission exited the cabin on to the main deck, and spotted Ferdinand the Mule of Lester's crew talking to Leech in an unintelligible language, it was clearly not Erstanduen because I was taught that language in the academy, not that I could speak it, but I could clearly distinguish it.*

*Something did not feel right about that guy. While he hopped back on the Tartane along with Leech and Lester, I spotted something strange hanging from his belt. Almost looked like a completely black sickle or something. Then Mr. Evans came towards me, who was also watching Ferdinand.*

*"Mr. Jeremiah, if you are able, keep an eye on that man at all times would you"*

*"Mr. Evans, something is not right about him"*

*"Any important things that you may have noted about him, sir?" He asked.*

*"Nothing yet have I sighted, except for an odd object on his belt, sir"*

*"I too have not been able to identify it, sir"*

*This journey really was a mess, I would jealously think of Uncle Hardy and my friends every breathing second of my life, thinking of how much fun they were having, and the knowledge about glowies and the stories I was missing out on. That torment happened until I was ordered to pull the halyards and raise signal flags along with other men accompanied by a nice shanty sung by the brilliance of a poor shantyman John Wright.*

*"Larboard watch, pull 'em ye hogs!"*

*"Shall be top notch, pull 'em ye hogs!"*

*"The signal flags, raise 'em ye hogs!"*

*"Down you drag, raise 'em ye hogs!"*

*After the shanty. I approached the poor man. Forty years of age, hadn't seen his family for fifteen years. Resident of New South Valkrestina (also where his family lives). And underpaid, forced by a press gang. Whenever after he sung a shanty, he'd sit on anything and think about just something, he'd be sad, sometimes I spotted him crying, other times he'd ask me to read the letters his family had sent him, because he couldn't read or write on his own. Some of the letters were years old, the latest was four months old. He'd keep them as prizes, and would protect them at all costs.*

*"Mr. Wright" I said calmly, I wanted to make him happy.*

*"What is it, sir?" Clearly he didn't like calling anyone that.*

*"You can just call me Arthur, John" The look on his face when he was called by his regular name after years. I really wanted to make him happy from the true news I've heard of and also understand him more. "After this voyage you'd be back home"*

*"Yes young man, I know, but then there's the question, if I'd even live that long"*

*"How come? There's no threat except a battle, which is unlikely"*

*But then he showed me his gums.*

*"Scurvy?" I said. "But everyday we are fed pickled vegetables and sometimes sauerkraut!"*

*"Not for me, I have not eaten for two days"*

*I shuddered. "But how and why!".*

*"They treat me as a slave, sometimes I don't get payed. All the money I own is in my pockets. Just two doubloons and a noble. And whenever the voyage is over, instead of sending me back to my home in South Valkrestina. I get sent to a random city where I live under a barrel and beg for bread and eat rotten food from the garbage piles for the next week or so until I am sent to another ship where I receive my letters"*

*"You don't write back?"*

*"I have some else to do and write, for this moment it's thankfully you"*

*The plan was set, I'd give all my dinner to him. I decided, vowed and swore upon my neck, that no matter even if it's fresh meat from the livestock we brought onboard. "If I survive the duel . . ." I thought.*

*"Two bells One o' Clock!"*

*"Pray for me to win this duel, in exchange I'd give you anything you'd like, food, money"*

*"You are fighting a duel?"*

*I didn't say anything and started getting prepared. The whole crew went aloft to see the duel. They all gathered in a rectangle like formation. Giving us space for the duel, it was sort of like a wrestling ring or an auditorium.*

*Some men even climbed the ratlines or watched from the fighting tops while the front row of the men on the deck crouched for the people behind them to see better.*

*I and Lester entered the empty space, the sailors around us started getting on their toes, extremely impatient, they wanted entertainment, something which they hadn't has in a long while apart from the usual stone skipping, drinking beer and rat catching.*

*We were handed a cutlass each and an unloaded pistol, the reason? probably to use it like a buckler or a club.*

*"I'll slay you, you scurvy jackal!" Lester cursed.*

*Then came an awkward and nervous silence, as both of us got ready, turning our curved blades upside down and meeting their tips together. The cutlasses both placed over our heads, done in the regular orthodox way of fighting a sword duel.*

*And then the bell rang.*

*I knew he'd always attack first so I was prepared to block, he slashed his sword by it's tip pointing down then turned upwards like normal while he aimed for my left side. I immediately forced it away by the pistol and then reached out my arm with a stab which was pushed aside by his pistol while he recovered his blade.*

*Then we both slashed each other at the same time, clashing our cutlasses together. And Lester was the quickest to react.*

*He clubbed his pistol with full force on my forehead. I dropped my pistol to hold my forehead, suffering from the pain. My sword was far too away to attack him back or block a hit and so he went for a quick thrust but before he could've killed me, I kicked him back, recovered the cutlass and went for a downwards to upwards slash at an angle. He blocked it away and like a rock he threw his pistol at me, I was caught unaware, but then my -not so good- cricket skills decided to activate. And I caught the pistol like a cricket ball, and that reminded me of the times when I was actually good at that sport.*

*I hacked him back closing in on him and after a couple of exchanges of slashing and blocking, I decided to execute the good old trick. When he slashed at me I took the risk of blocking it with the pistol, and then I went for a stab. He had no time to bring his cutlass back to defend himself, and so he did the best thing there was, he grabbed the guard of my sword. But that made him vulnerable. And I kicked him on the chest with all might and quickly stepped on his chest and pointed the cutlass right at his throat. I had won-*

*BANG!*

*A musket discharged from somewhere. And the musketball landed just besides my foot. But that scared the soul out of me. And I backed off terrified. And I looked towards where that shot had came from.*

*Not from our ship. But from the crows nest of the Tartane.*

*The entire crew went wild on the Thalassa. Screaming stuff like "Mutiny" or "Traitor" until the captain shut their mouths and brought them back to human form.*

*"Marines, arrest the man who fired the shot, board the Tartane! And pause the duel!"*

*"Lucky bastard" I murmured to Lester.*

*The man who fired the shot from the fighting top happened to be "Weasel". And he was grabbed onboard our ship and asked questions like "Why did you shoot" and all that.*

*"I was ordered by Mule! Trust me!" He cried. But they didn't listen, although something told me he was right. But I couldn't argue with the captain on this matter.*

*The chaplain now started reading out the rulebook to "Weasel" while he was getting getting ready to be hanged. Crying, he uttered out something that'll echo through my mind forever.*

*"Ansaria is not fair!"*

*Before the barrel beneath him was removed to hang him. He was asked "Last words?"*

*And he answered. "Lester and his men are traitors! They are planning to- AHH!" The barrel was kicked away, suspending Weasel mid-air, and there he couldn't speak anything except a bunch of moaning and gurgling. I looked away and covered my ears, I cannot watch someone die by will.*

*After he was hung, his body was blessed by the chaplain and thrown to the sea. At least the sharks will have no need to hunt and can rest for today . . .*

*Anyways, after that. The duel was continued again. But it was nothing short of restarting all over again, we where back on the same position as we started. And the bell rung once again.*

*Again at the start I was on the defensive. He first slashed and then I blocked. Instead of counter-attacking I decided to settle in for the defence. I blocked his next two strikes until I remembered from Uncle Hardy that if you keep blocking attacks, you will eventually fail once and you'd, well, you'd die.*

*So, I caught him off-guard and quickly slashed back. He flinched and stepped back, to which I responded with closing in on him, behind him was the mainmast so this time he could not run back like that. And I used that to my advantage. I hacked from the left, just when he blocked the hit. I clubbed him with my pistol and kicked him to the deck, and then stepped on his chest and then pointed my sword towards his neck.*

*"I've finally got you, Lester, time to pay for what you have done to me over the past six year-"*

*I totally forgot that he still had a cutlass in his hand, and before he could've hurt me I backed away. And then he quickly got up to his feet, blocked a slash from me and tried to club me with his pistol, but I grabbed his hand before he'd hit me, and then I ran my blade straight through- he quickly put his cutlass between the way, pushing my sword to my far right and then tried to hack me. But I blocked it with the pistol and quickly counter-attacked. He sidestepped out of the way and thrusted on my left side which I quickly pushed away with the cutlass.*

*And for some reason in a short millisecond I got an idea.*

*I first backed away, near the mast, letting Lester attack me, and he did exactly was I wanted him to do, he had no idea what was coming.*

*I first threw my pistol at his head. giving me time to pull out the ultimate weapon: The belaying pin. Just as he hastily approached me, he swung his sword aimlessly and slowly without looking, I blocked his fragile attack and used the belaying pin to "stab" his forehead which would've hurt a lot, even if belaying pin's aren't actually sharp and won't stab you. They would still give a headache. Which was exactly what I needed. I then had just one more thing to do, kill him. But I didn't need to, just to make sure that he doesn't block a hit ever again, I stabbed his hand.*

*What his single braincell produced was a painful and horribly loud scream as he fell to the ground, dropping his sword from his hand and then holding tightly on his wound, panting and crying out like a total freak, a dying donkey. But I didn't have to kill him, I already would win the duel even if I'd spare him. And sparing him would make the captain really think that I am a good guy and was speaking the truth.*

*If only he'd care.*

*Because from somewhere, the captain of the marines, Mr. Herrings shouted "BEAT TO QUARTERS! BEAT TO QUARTERS!" as the drums started banging.*