Noah sat beside him, displaying his impatience through fidgeting and occasional grumbles. Marcellus stole a glance at Noah, observing the furrowed lines on his forehead that betrayed his annoyance.
It was clear that Noah had a short fuse.
Inwardly, Marcellus couldn't help but sympathize with Noah's frustration. While others were likely indulging in women, Noah found himself stuck with the newcomer. It was only natural for Noah to feel disgruntled about the situation.
Nonetheless, Marcellus remained unfazed by his expressions he could not be bothered by a short man daydreaming about fucking.
Marcellus's thoughts drifted back to his purpose for volunteering. The book he had obtained held a mysterious allure, and he believed it contained valuable information that could aid him on his journey.
The opportunity to hide it among the goods and earn some goodwill among the crew was a chance he couldn't pass up.
While waiting for the unloading to conclude, Marcellus's mind raced with anticipation.
The stories he had heard about the pirate turned out to be true.
They were deadly, that much was certain. The tales and rumours Marcellus had heard didn't portray them as mere mortals. They were larger-than-life figures, feared and revered in equal measure.
As Marcellus observed them closely, he began to realize that beneath the intimidating façade, they were just people. People who had chosen a life of piracy, perhaps driven by circumstance, ambition, or a thirst for adventure. They were individuals with their own hopes, fears, and dreams.
These revelations challenged Marcel's preconceived notions, he had seen pirates as monsters, merciless and devoid of humanity.
Wisbech, couldn't provide him with the perspicuity he needed.
Perspective became a valuable lesson for Marcellsu. He came to appreciate how important it was to see beyond the surface, to recognize the complexities that resided within each person.
The pirates, despite their fearsome reputation, had stories, motivations, and vulnerabilities that went beyond the tales. Marco was a prime example of this.
As Marcellus gained this newfound perspective, he understood that judgment without understanding was a hollow pursuit, and that truth required peering into the depths of a person's character.
Alas, he was not really concerned with the 'truth', he simply didn't care to know.
As the last of the goods were finally unloaded and stacked neatly on the dock, Marcel and Noah prepared to transport them to their designated storage area.
Marcellus took a deep breath, his eyes briefly flickering towards Noah. At that moment, he recognized the potential for valuable information.
Noah had been part of the crew for some time now, and his interactions with the other pirates could provide Marcellus with insights into their dynamics and the inner workings of the pirate city.
Seizing the opportunity, Marcellus decided to strike up a conversation. He leaned closer to Noah, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Hey, Noah," he began, "you've been with this crew for a while. You must have learned a thing or two about the people here."
Noah's eyebrows furrowed, and he answered with a sigh of annoyance. "Aye, I've seen my fair share of things in these waters,"
Marcellus began to doubt his social skills, pirates did not seem to like answering his question.
They started loading the goods into an open carriage, and as Marcellus continued his task, he mustered the courage to inquire once more.
"What exactly happens to all this?" Marcellus asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Noah let out an exasperated sigh, his annoyance was evident even though Marcellus couldn't see his face. "It goes to the Guthries," Noah responded, his tone tinged with irritation. "They pay upfront for it, then take it to someplace civilized to sell."
"The Guthries?" Marcellus questioned, his interest piqued by the mention of this mysterious group.
"Mate, no offence, but the sooner we finish loading, the sooner I can make my way up that hill and into the loving arms of my sweet, sweet Charlotte," Noah replied impatiently, his desire to complete the task and reunite with his loved whore palpable.
As Marcellus deftly concealed the loot he had hidden within his jacket, a sly smile crept onto his face.
He had managed to retrieve his prized possessions without arousing suspicion, and the thrill of his successful endeavour coursed through his veins.
Completing his assigned task, Marcellus made his way over to the Accountant-Dufrene with the yellow glasses to provide a report. As he approached, he noticed Noah leaving their vicinity, heading in a different direction.
To his surprise, Noah returned accompanied by a pirate Marcellus recognized as part of the crew, although he did not know the pirate's name. The pirate's gaze fixated on Marcellus, pointing in his direction.
Marcellus's brow furrowed in confusion.
He glanced at the Accountant, hoping for some explanation, but all he received was a weary sigh. Turning his attention to Noah, he sought clarity.
"What's going on?" Marcellus finally mustered the courage to ask, his voice tinged with apprehension. "Who wants to meet me?"
Noah's face betrayed his worry, and he hesitated before responding. "It's Blackbeard," he answered solemnly, the weight of the name hanging heavy in the air.
Marcellus's heart skipped a beat.
Blackbeard, the infamous pirate whose name sent shivers down the spines of sailors far and wide. He had heard tales of Blackbeard's ruthless nature and fearsome reputation. The mere mention of his name sent a chill down Marcellus's spine.
A mixture of fear and curiosity welled up within Marcellus.
What could Blackbeard possibly want with him, a mere cook? did they find out about the book?
The realization that he was about to encounter one of the most notorious figures in piracy filled him with a sense of trepidation.
On his way to meet the notorious Blackbeard, Marcellus's thoughts were a roiling sea of anticipation and dread. He clutched the tome he had so daringly acquired, its secrets as enigmatic as the shadows that danced upon the walls of the narrow alleyways. The whispers of the pirates trailing behind him were like the hissing of serpents, their words unintelligible yet fraught with menace.
In a swift, almost desperate motion, Marcellus grabbed a tattered rag from the muck of the street, wrapping the book with the care of a father swaddling a newborn child. His fingers moved with a deftness born of necessity, each folds a silent prayer that his treasure would remain unseen by the covetous eyes of his unsavoury companions.
As they approached what appeared to be a ramshackle inn, its timbers groaning like an old man in the wind, Marcellus's mind raced. The book, though hidden against his chest, felt as conspicuous as a burning torch in the dark. The notion of discarding it, like tossing away a piece of his very soul, clawed at him. The weight of the act, the life he had extinguished to obtain this forbidden knowledge, was a millstone about his neck.
The echoes of his mother's teachings, the moral compass she had instilled in him, now clashed with the reality of his actions. To kill in self-defence was one thing; to take a life for mere possession was a sin that stained his soul like ink on parchment.
Steeling himself as he neared the room where Blackbeard awaited, Marcellus wove a plan as intricate as the weavings of the Spider Queen. Upon entering, he would surreptitiously secrete the book in a place untouched by the light of suspicion.
The room loomed before him like the mouth of a great beast, its dark maw ready to swallow him whole. His heart thundered in his chest, a drumbeat heralding either triumph or doom. With a hand that betrayed no tremor, Marcellus crossed the threshold, his eyes darting like a hawk seeking its prey. He found it - a hidden nook, obscured by shadows, where he secreted the book with the deftness of a master thief.
The pirates, delayed by the capricious whims, missed this sleight of hand. Yet, they did not cross the threshold into the room.
Stepping back, Marcellus felt a momentary respite, a fleeting oasis in the desert of his perilous journey.
The book was safe, hidden from the world, its secrets locked away. He steeled himself, ready to face the enigmatic Blackbeard, his soul a battleground of fear and resolve.
The game was afoot, and Marcellus was its unwilling yet determined player.