A Fresh Story

All I can say is don't expect a pirate to be a nice guy. This story was originally written by the Scarlet Pimpernel

PIRATES OF THE SEVEN SEAS
THE FORBIDDEN SAND

Chapter I
Captain William McNeal

People will talk about Black Beard and Captain Kid and many others. But there is one most have forgotten: Captain William McNeal. The reason people stayed far away from him is because he was Irish and had a typical Irish temper. His ship, the Centaur, stolen from Captain James Norington, was an English military vessel that was very fast. Moreover, it was said to be the most powerful ship in all the seven seas. William McNeal’s goal was to go to an island called Richontor. Whoever went on the sand of that place was never seen again.
“You want me ship to sail to that bloody island and discover what’s go’n on!” shouted McNeal
“Aye that’s what I’m talk’n about.” Duvall, the first mate of the famous captain John Horner, replied, in a level tone.
“Gory, you must be crazy.” said McNeal with an expression somewhere between one of anger and astonishment.
“William, what I hear is that there is some booty hidden there. Your share will be eighty percent, if you get it” Duvall repeated.
“Well if that’s the case, I agree. Gory! Eighty percent! And no one knows how much is there!” said the overwhelmed captain.
“Do we have a deal, then?” Duvall asked, anxious to be sure that McNeal would not reconsider this rash decision to sail to such a mysterious place. But, he thought, he must have spoken too soon after all; McNeal was even now voicing doubts.
“Wait just one moment, mate! How is it that you have heard about this loot, when all the world’s been told no one ever returned alive from that place?!”
Jack Duvall hated William McNeal. With all his heart he wished never to see him alive again. He had been hoping against hope that McNeal would not catch the slip. But he had. Desperate measures were called for. Drawing a pistol from his belt and pointing it at McNeal, Duvall said slowly “One step closer would be the end of you, William McNeal. I’ve been looking for you throughout the seven seas, and now I’ve got you, you won’t slip away.”
Completely surprised, the Irish captain exclaimed “What have I ever done to you?! Who are you, anyway?!”
In the same low, menacing voice, Duvall replied “If every man who had ever lost a brother or a friend to you were hunting you, McNeal, a thousand men would be coming down on this ship at this moment. Count yourself fortunate that there is only one. Now, we were speaking of treasure.”
Glancing at the pistol to avoid meeting Duvall’s gaze, McNeal replied “I reckon I’ll have to go along, then. But remember, my share is eighty percent.”
“Yes. If you survive. Only a brave and cunning captain could survive Richontor. But I must say, I don’t believe you’re one of those.”
“You don’t, eh?” McNeal replied, growing more furious by the second. Suddenly, there was a pistol in his hand and he had fired, sending the bullet clean through Duvall’s own gun and causing it to explode in his hand.
Letting the pistol butt fall from his burned hand, Duvall screamed “You’ve ruined me! What good am I to anybody now! John Horner will be after you for this!”
McNeal had now become calm once more, for the first time since Duvall had told him of the treasure. “If, as you say, a thousand men are hunting me, one more will make little difference. Men!”
At the last word, several men on watch on the deck came running into the cabin. Gesturing toward Duvall, McNeal said dismissively “Keep this man under guard. And pay him for that hand.”
As the men left, holding Duvall by both arms, McNeal sat down at the ornate desk in his cabin. Looking at a chart he had been drawing throughout his wide-spread travels, he noticed a new place, situated in the Pacific Ocean, which had been drawn and labeled by a different hand. Then he remembered the moment when, Duvall, while making his offer, had bent down and drawn that spot on the map, to point out where it lay.
“Ah… That man knows more of the place than he would care to tell me, but he will be a help to me after all.” thought McNeal, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at the ceiling of his cabin, dreaming of the untold riches of Richontor and scheming to get not just eighty percent, but all of it.