Chapter 8: Betrayal on The Ranger

Chapter 8: Betrayal on The Ranger

A sullen dusk settled as the Ranger beat south-east, Blackwater Shoal fading astern. The crew was quiet, the weight of the witch’s warning heavy in every creak of timber. Clouds swallowed the moon, leaving only a thin starlight to guide them. Israel Hands manned the wheel, guiding the ship carefully through reef-strewn waters. The new moon was only days away; they would soon face the Leviathan.

Below decks, Edward tried to snatch a few hours of rest, but sleep wouldn’t come. His mind churned over the prophecy: One will turn from friend to fiend. Who? His thoughts strayed to Quartermaster Remy. The older pirate had grown increasingly agitated since the cave, pacing and muttering about curses. Edward resolved to keep an eye on him.

A sudden jolt rocked the ship, followed by shouting above. Edward sprang from his hammock, heart lurching. He nearly collided with Jack, who was already scrambling up the ladder to the main deck, hand on her sword.

They emerged into chaos. The Ranger had lurched to a halt, her keel scraping something hard, reef. The ship listed unnaturally. Hornigold was bellowing orders at Hands to correct course. Through the gloom Edward glimpsed dark shapes of rocks perilously close to the surface off the starboard side.

“How did we drift off course?!” Hornigold thundered.

Before Israel Hands could respond, a gunshot cracked the air. A puff of smoke came from the quarterdeck. In the dim light, Edward saw Quartermaster Remy standing near the helm, pistol raised skyward, having fired a warning shot. Two crewmen flanked him with drawn swords. Israel Hands staggered back from the wheel, blood oozing from a gash on his forehead, likely pistol-whipped.

“This voyage is doomed!” Remy shouted, voice ragged. “We’ll not sail to our deaths for a devil’s trinket!”

Murmurs of shock rippled among the crew. Hornigold drew his cutlass slowly. “Stand down, Remy,” he growled. “You’re raving. Stop now, for I’ll only forgive you once.”

Remy’s one good eye gleamed with desperation in the lantern-light. “Am I? We all heard that witch. Sacrifice, monsters… betrayal. The sea will claim us all if we keep on!” His pistol swung to cover Hornigold. “I won’t let you steer us into the depths of hell. We turn back now, or by my fallen family I’ll take command myself!”

A tense heartbeat passed. The crew froze in a tableau of disbelief, brothers facing the unthinkable: one of their own raising arms against the captain. Edward’s stomach churned. This was the betrayal foretold. If Remy had wanted a proper mutiny he would have taken it as a vote, the pirate way. 

Hornigold’s tone went deadly quiet. “You’ve always been free to leave, Remy. But you’ll not commit a dishonorable mutiny and live.”

The two pirates beside Remy moved down the steps, forming a barricade. Edward recognized them: Mullins and Gates, long-time mates of Remy, rumored to be Pre-Ranger. They looked uneasy as sweat was already dripping from their faces but still seemingly determined.

Jack sidled to Edward’s side, whispering, “We need to get the wheel or we’ll sink.” The Ranger groaned as waves pushed her against the reef. Already, Edward felt the deck cant, she was stuck fast.

Hornigold seemed to have the same thought. He feinted as if to talk, then lunged toward the helm. Remy fired, Hornigold jerked aside, the ball tearing through his coat sleeve. Before Remy could reload, Hornigold was upon him with a roar.

That broke the spell. The deck erupted in clanging steel and shouts as crew loyal to Hornigold rushed the few traitors. Edward and Jack ran for the helm to aid Hornigold. Mullins intercepted them, swinging his cutlass wildly. Edward parried, steel sparking. Jack darted low and slashed Mullins across the thigh. The man howled, stumbling, and Edward knocked him cold with the pommel of his sword.

Nearby, Gates grappled with Israel Hands, who despite his head wound had leapt back into the fray. Hands fought like a maddened bull, slamming Gates into the rail. They traded heavy blows.

Hornigold and Remy struggled at the wheel. Remy had drawn his own cutlass, and the two veterans hacked at each other in brutal arcs. “I bled and sailed beside you ten years!” Remy snarled as their blades locked. “I won’t die for your foolish folly!”

Hornigold headbutted Remy squarely, sending him reeling. “You forget your oath and honor brother.” Hornigold spat. Blood trickled down his arm from the graze, but his grip on his sword was unshakable. “We all chose this course, and no other.”

Remy wiped oozing blood from his lips, eyes wild like a panther. Instead of re-engaging Hornigold, he suddenly bolted down the steps, shoving past Edward and Jack in a desperate dash. Edward spun and realized with dread Remy’s target: the small jolly boat stored amidships, their fastest escape.

“The astrolabe!” Jack cried. Remy must be after it, likely still in Hornigold’s cabin or on his person. But in the confusion, Edward couldn’t see it, perhaps Hornigold had left it locked below.

Remy’s co-conspirators, Mullins and Gates, were down, Mullins unconscious, Gates pinned by Israel Hands. Seeing Remy flee, Gates bellowed, “Wait for me!” He wrenched free of Hands with a lucky placed kick and staggered awkwardly toward the boat.

Hornigold, fury in his face, tore a pistol from his belt and took aim at Remy’s back. Edward’s breath caught, despite everything, the thought of Hornigold executing his quartermaster felt horribly wrong.

He never got the shot. The reef suddenly scraped harshly along the hull, tipping everyone off balance. Hornigold’s shot went wide, the ball whistling into the dark. 

In that moment, Remy heaved the jolly boat over the side and leapt after it, splashing into the shallow surf. Gates limped close behind, clambering down a rope.

“After them!” Hornigold roared. “Don’t let them, ”

His command was cut short by an ear-splitting crack of wood. The Ranger listed further; the reef was tearing into her belly with every wave. Edward’s first duty had to be the ship.

“Get the canvas aback!” Israel Hands was already shouting, having abandoned the fight to rally sailors. “Push her off the reef or we’re all done!”

Edward shot a look at Hornigold. The captain’s face contorted in rage and grief as he watched the two mutineers paddling frantically away into darkness. But he turned to his crew and bellowed, “All hands to starboard! Shift cargo, toss anything, get us off this bloody rock!”

The threat of sinking galvanized everyone. Men raced to shift heavy barrels and cannons from the port side, trying to lighten and rock the ship free. Jack was at the helm, joining Hands in carefully reversing the sails’ angle. Edward joined others using thick wooden paddles to push against the reef visible just below the surface, muscles straining with each swell.

For agonizing minutes, the Ranger stubbornly held, timbers grinding. It felt like the ocean itself was mocking their struggle. Edward’s arms burned as he levered a paddle against coral, salt spray stinging his eyes and cracked lips.

At last, a lucky wave lifted the ship just enough. With a collective howl, the crew shoved and the Ranger slid off the reef back into deeper water. She bobbed free, though low at the bow.

“We’re off!” someone cried. A weary cheer went up.

The danger was not past. Hornigold ordered damage inspected. Sailors swarmed below to find incoming seawater. They reported back grimly: the hull was stove in near the keel; the pump crews sprang into action to keep pace with flooding.

Amid the flurry, Edward realized the betrayal’s immediate threat had passed, Remy was gone, but so was a portion of their strength. Two traitors fled, one dead. Mullins had succumbed to a gut wound during the chaos, and several loyal men were injured. Hornigold ascended to the quarterdeck, dripping with sweat and fury.

Jack touched Edward’s shoulder gently. “Look.” She pointed off the stern. In the faint starlight they saw the jolly boat receding. Remy and Gates had rigged a scrap of sail and were fleeing back the way they’d come, toward the distant silhouette of Blackwater Shoal. The temptation to fire a cannon after them was strong, but they were out of range and darkness soon swallowed them.

Hornigold’s face was a thundercloud. “Let the bastards go,” he growled to Israel Hands. “They’ve made their choice. If the Spanish or the devils of the deep take them, so be it. They set their own fates now.”

“They’ll warn others, maybe,” Hands said, meaningfully. If Remy reached a trade port, he could spread word of Hornigold’s quest or location.

Hornigold spat overboard. “We’ll worry about that once we’re shipshape. First, we mend and move.”

Through the rest of the night, the crew labored to patch the breach with sails and boards, and manned the pumps relentlessly. By dawn’s pale arrival, the Ranger limped away from the cursed shoals that had nearly been her grave.

On deck, exhaustion and sorrow mingled. Abel’s death had been avenged earlier, but now Mullins, a friend to some, was gone, and worse, two shipmates had betrayed them all. The men exchanged bewildered, hurt glances as they worked, asking in low tones how Remy could do it. Fear lurked behind their eyes too: Remy had been one of their best. If he lost faith, what did that mean for the rest of them?

Hornigold gathered everyone once basic repairs were done. His arm was hastily bandaged, face drawn with fatigue. Yet his voice did not waver. “You’ve all seen what nearly befell us. Fear and faithlessness tore at our crew last night. But hear me now: I will see every man safe and rich at journey’s end, or I’ll die trying.” He swept his gaze over them, and even the most shaken stood a little straighter.

“We are beyond the point of no return. Remy’s gone. Any other man who lacks the stomach to sail on, take a longboat now and go with my blessing.” Hornigold paused, but none moved. “Good. The Crown of Tides awaits, lads. We’ll repair at the nearest isle and then finish what we started. No more talk of curses. We shape our own fate!”

A ragged cheer answered, quieter than usual, but earnest. The crew needed to believe him, Edward needed to believe him. He watched their faces, lit by dawn’s first rays: bruised, weary, yet resolute. Betrayal had hurt them, but it also forged a steely determination not to fail.

As the men dispersed to their tasks, Hornigold descended to Edward, Jack, and Israel Hands, who had become an informal circle of advisors. The captain’s stern expression softened slightly. “We owe you thanks. All of you,” he said gruffly. “You kept your heads when others lost theirs.”

Hands shrugged. “Still alive. That’s thanks enough.”

Hornigold turned to Edward, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Teach, if Remy had gotten that boat off sooner, he might’ve tried to take the astrolabe. You and Jack stopped Mullins and held the line. Well done.”

Edward felt pride kindle despite the bleak night. “We won’t let anyone harm this crew, Captain. Or steer us off course.”

Jack nodded firmly beside him, her eyes flashing proudly in agreement.

Hornigold managed a tight smile. “I know it. The lot of you have proven true.” He drew a breath. “Remy… his name’ll be curse and caution both. We’ll remember him as a warning of what the stench of fear can do.”

The sun crept over the horizon, bathing the battered Ranger in golden light. Edward’s gaze drifted to the empty sea behind them. Remy and Gates were long gone, swallowed by the very fate they’d tried to escape. Perhaps they’d survive, or perhaps the sea would claim its price from them instead.

Either way, the Ranger sailed on, wounded but unbowed. Edward shared a look with Jack, relieved and resolute. They had weathered the betrayal that was foretold. The worst, however, still loomed ahead. In two days’ time, the new moon would bring the Leviathan from the deep depths.

For now, they were alive, together, and more tightly bound than ever by hardship. The sea had tested them and found them worthy, at least for one more dawn.