After the meeting at the Naval office, it was found that the charges brought against Samuel Ealing were null and void, and he was cleared of all wrongdoing. The Navy accepted receipt of the Peace Treaty, and Mister Ealing was awarded his pay. In the hearing, Emily Ealing's bravery was noted but when she asked about whether the privateers would be honoured, the officers laughed, stating that they might as well honour the ship or the sea, for they had just as much to do with their success.

When they were eventually dismissed, Emily felt as though she could breathe again. And when her father emerged from a cloakroom freshly shaved, hair combed and dressed in a sharper attire, he was more whole than she could ever remember.

'Well, this certainly has been a very interesting adventure,' Mister Ealing noted to the Lieutenant as he escorted them and Captain Jones down the dockside approach. 'So much the adventure that I'm quite certain I wouldn't want to have another like it.'

'Quite so,' Lieutenant Colbert agreed. 'I can't begin to imagine. I can only apologise again on behalf of the company, and once again extend an invitation to join me for dinner. Miss Ealing?'

Emily's first thought was of Martin, but Colbert's eyes were so wide and hopeful that she struggled to find the strength to crush his hopes. Besides, dinner was innocent enough if it ever did transpire, and it would be rather difficult to explain to her father why she would forgo the company of a high-ranking and well-respected naval officer in favour of a low-ranking privateer. 'I-I'd be delighted to... another time,' she smiled, not too weakly, but not too enthusiastically either. 'I have previous commitments.'

'Really?' Lieutenant Colbert blushed, evidently not taking the hint. 'Well, that's wonderful to hear. I look forward to a time of your choosing.'

'Wonderful!' Captain Jones stepped ahead of Mister Ealing, interrupting Emily before she could finish her thoughts. Jones nestled himself into the Lieutenant's elbows space. 'A splendid idea. Why don't we kick off the celebration of your freedom, Sam, by moseying on down to my dock-house for a drink? I have some excellent, rare French imports that I'm sure will be to your favourable taste. And while you're there, Lieutenant Colbert, I could even give you a tour of the place. You know, show you our wares, the establishment at work, my pride and joy. If you're lucky, I might even introduce my own daughter, Danielle. She's a rare beauty, and quite the catch for any bachelor, such as yourself.'

'Indeed,' Colbert looked over his shoulder at Emily and rolled his eyes playfully. 'Well, I'd be delighted to accompany you, if Mister Ealing and Miss Emily are happy to?'

While her father begrudgingly nodded, Emily unsteadily rocked her head from side to side.

'Would... it be possible to have a tour some other time? I was hoping to talk to Mister Hamish of the Scourge before he has the chance to get lost somewhere in town.'

Jones smirked, a malicious star twinkling in his eye. 'Oh, there won't be any danger of that.'

Emily's heart dropped slightly. Something sinister about the way he spoke put her on edge. 'H-how do you mean?'

'As we speak, your band of privateers, along with their little ring leader, Hamish, are being rounded up by soldiers in preparation for their trial.'

'Trial?!' Emily's father gasped. Emily was too stunned to speak. 'O-on what charges?'

'Fraud, assault, treason, barratry, murder... I'm sure we can think of others when all the details come out. Ealing, you and your daughter will have to appear as witnesses, of course. I would suggest getting yourselves lawyers too, just in case any of those pirates implicate the pair of you.'

Emily exploded with fury. 'Those men fought tooth and claw to get that cylinder here! They fought and died for our Queen, and for me! They should be heralded as heroes, and you want to brand them as criminals?! After what you've done?!'

'No one is immune from justice, Miss Ealing,' Jones smirked again. 'Not even your heroes. As for your last point, if you have any accusations to make against me, I would be very careful about voicing them.'

'I don't need to voice them. Toros is in custody; he's my witness. All I have to do is get him up on the stand in front of a judge, and your crimes will be exposed as naked as a whore on payday.'

'Emily!' her father gasped. 'What's got into you?!'

'I think, Ealing,' Jones continued, looming over Emily, 'that she's been spending too much time around pirates. She's forgotten how British justice is done. Do you really think that any English judge would take the word of a convicted Spanish pirate and prisoner of war over one of their most trusted merchants? Besides, you're wasting your efforts. Toros will be dead by sunrise anyway; the scaffold is already prepared. You don't have a leg to stand on.'

Emily squared up to Jones, almost standing on tiptoe to match his height. 'They're not pirates... they're privateers! And I do have one thing: once you get those men up on the stand, everyone will see just how honourable, and loyal, and kind they are. Once they speak, no court in the land will ever believe any of them to be violent criminals. Especially not Martin Hamish; he's as gentle as they come. Good luck getting them to believe you once he speaks.'

'Sir!' their sparring was interrupted by a red-coated soldier with a pair of irons under his belt and a musket over his shoulder. He seemed out of breath and deschevelled somehow, but when he approached the party, he still had the wherewithal to salute. The Lieutenant returned his saluted. 'Lieutenant. Miss. Captains.'

'Ah, sergeant. How goes the pirate hunt? Did any of them put up a struggle?'

The sergeant shook his head. Jones turned back to Emily with a sanctimonious grin on his face, when the sergeant took a step forward. 'T-they weren't there, sir.'

Jones furrowed his brow and glared at the soldier. 'What do you mean "they weren't there"? I told you which pub, and I told you which ship. If they weren't at one, they were at the other. What's so hard about that?'

'We checked the pub, sir,' the soldier swallowed nervously, 'and all the ones along the seafront, and deep into town. There's no trace of them. And the ship, the Señora... it's gone.'

'Gone? Gone where?'

'At a guess,' Lieutenant Colbert interrupted, peering down his spyglass, 'I would say that's them on the horizon.'

Emily followed the direction of his telescope and saw the tall blotch of a warship on the horizon, faded by a light mist and the glare of the setting sun.

'See?' Jones said. 'Innocent people don't run from the law. These men are as black as they come, and when I return to my office, I shall write a letter to the Queen herself declaring that these men should be branded as outlaws.'

'There's more, sir,' the solider interrupted again. For this, he couldn't look Jones in the eye, electing instead to stare down at his knees. 'They... they took everything. The trading company warehouses; they're all empty – raided. Most of the workers vanished, all of the stores ransacked. Your warehouse was among them, sir. They hit yours worst of all. There's almost nothing left of the place. They even tried to burn it down.'

Jones turned a sickly shade of green. 'E-everything? Gone?'

The soldier nodded. 'Everything... including your supply of ink in the basement, sir. They left nothing.'

'Ink?' Emily's father asked, an expression of amused bewilderment on his broad face. 'What on Earth would they need ink for?'

***

'Hoist the black!'

The flag of the Spanish Cross had been all but eliminated owing to a dunking in a barrel of ink. They raised it by halyard at the stern and let it flutter itself dry, shimmering like anthracite.

Schleckt prowled the deck, inspecting the men as they busied themselves with their work.

'Mister Mosi, how are the crew settled?' he asked.

'Cheerful and content, so far,' the Bosun replied. 'Everyone is integrating well, but I'll let you know of the first sign of trouble.'

'Good man. How are the cannons looking, Mister Ulrich?'

'As smart as paint,' the Gunner replied. 'Ready for war.'

'Excellent news. Are the stores in order, Mister Jennes?'

'Right as rain,' the Purser saluted. 'We could spend two winters firing guns and we'd not run dry of food or powder. And we'll make a tidy profit when we turn all those goods in.'

'Great work.'

Schleckt ambled over to the Carpenter, who had made good efforts to sand off the previous name of the ship from the stern-plate. He took a glance at the parchment at his side, which had the ornate design of a new nameplate drawn in charcoal – a scroll, with the words "King Henry's Scourge" written from end to end.

'Looks great, Mister Young. You'll have it finished by daybreak?'

'Aye, sir,' the Carpenter nodded.

'Brilliant. Keep up the good work, gents.' Schleckt turned on his heel and made his way to the quarterdeck, where Captain Hamish stood at the helm. 'All's well, Captain.'

'That's good to hear. Thank you, Mister Quartermaster.'

'My pleasure, sir. So, what's our heading?'

'First, to Nassau, to repay our debts. And I say we plunder every ship that dares to cross our path along the way.'

'And after Nassau?'

Martin turned to Schleckt and smiled; an adventurous spark flared deep in his eye.

'After; who knows?'

Captain Hamish whipped the wheel with a dexterous hand. The sails roared as they caught the wind and the King Henry's Scourge leapt forward like a dolphin breaching the waves. She flew across the sea, and as the mounting wind combed through Martin's hair, the sun just touched the horizon ahead.

That was the direction the Scourge and her crew headed – to chase the sun in search of new shores and hunt adventure wherever the wind took them.

The End