Captain Charles Vane Black Sails Novels & Stories

Her voice cracked—barely more than a broken whisper carried away on the wind. The headlights blinded her. The world spun violently. Her knees gave way, and the road rushed up to meet her. She collapsed in a crumpled heap on the cold asphalt, consciousness slipping away like sand through her fingers, the faint sound of screeching brakes echoing in her ears as darkness claimed her.

The echoes lowered their blades. The scarred woman looked toward me. “Fate has already started moving.” The b lood moon pulsed. A black line crossed its surface like a crack. Cassian stopped fighting. His expression turned hard. “That is not a warning.” Raiken came to my side. “What is it?” Cassian looked toward the eastern horizon. Ships appeared beneath the red light. Black sails. Silver wolf emblems. Thousands of them. At the centre sailed a vessel built from white bone.

I kept my head down with my shoulders hunched, trying to blend in “Eli, you worthless whelp! Get yer scrawny arse up the mast!” Captain Black’s drunk voice boomed across the ship. Before I could even turn, I caught sight of him. Captain Black was a mountain of a man scarred and bearded, with a cock that he liked to wave around when he was deep in his cups. I’d seen it too many times..usually while he was rutting some poor captured wench against the rail before tossing her overboard.

He entered the water and called to her: "Remove your clothes and join me." "What?" "What’s the problem? We all need to relax sometimes, sailor." "Thank you, Captain, but I’ll leave it for another time." Jack didn’t insist. Black Baldy emerged from between the trees. "Captain, we have trouble." Jack left the water, grabbing the towel. "What kind of trouble?" "A ship is approaching slowly." The captain grew serious. He glanced at Vanessa for a second, worried. If they discovered she was a woman, she would be in great danger.

It was the ultimate escape hatch, a secret kept even from his own Board of Directors. As the hatch sealed shut and the vessel dove into the cold depths of the Atlantic, I watched the Citadel through a small porthole. Another explosion—the secondary charges Lucian had set to erase all evidence—ripped through the cliffside. The grand fortress, the symbol of the Blackwood power, crumbled into the sea. In the eyes of the world, Lucian Blackwood, his wife Evelyn, and the leaders of the Vane Syndicate had perished in a tragic, catastrophic structural failure.

To his horror the writhing waters about her feet were slowly turning black, a pool of India ink that was spreading at a rate of knots. The men on the ship were now moaning in terror. The sky was becoming so dark there was no definition, just an ebony infinity, space with no stars. And in the fading light, the men could see things moving in the shadows, things that were difficult to define, their form as undulating as the ocean about them. The captain watched the ocean turn to black sackcloth and then the world was as shadow. He stepped back from the side of the ship and lost his footing. He landed on his backside and his Bible went spinning into the darkness.

"Vane, if you lead, keep your head down. Ignis, you’re on point. If we hit the Ashlands, we move fast. No stopping for breathers." Vane scrambled into the dark gap, his armor clattering against the damp stone. "You two better be right behind me. If you’re not, I’m not coming back for you. I’ve lived too long to die for a boy who doesn't know his own name and a kid who acts like a starved wolf." "Don't worry, Captain," Ignis smirked, a dangerous, jagged expression. "If we die, we’ll make sure the explosion takes the whole street with us. That’s a promise."

Then, he'd steer the ship straight toward the open sea. After repeated incidents, the company had no choice but to assign him to menial tasks. The once-proud captain had been reduced to a deckhand, covered in grime from head to toe. Elijah scrubbed the deck every day. It was as if the harder he worked, the more memories he could erase. But each night, when the ship fell quiet, he would take the crumpled ultrasound from his pocket and sob, calling my name. His grief became too much. So, I drifted to the surface of the sea and played with the fish.

"This is a neutral trade zone, Kingsley. The maritime treaties protect—" "The maritime treaties protect your cargo, not your life," I interrupted softly, stepping forward until the sheer mass of my chest forced him back a step. I didn't raise my voice. I kept it low, an intimate, terrifying whisper that carried clearly across the silent pavilion. "Let's talk about your fleet, Vance. You have three unregistered cutters sitting in the lower basin right now, loaded with black-market arms meant for my nephew's sympathizers." Vance went entirely bloodless. "That's a baseless accusation."

I was so happy as they all were anchoring at the same time and me looking at different ships getting to thr same place at the same time. Captain Snape also arrived at our place. He Anchored his ship. He is the only pirates Captain I have ever seen to be a black man even though he has his crew to be white. All the pirates Captain gathered together and decided to walk inside the fog into the garden of Babbana. Some selected crew followed us while others are in the shore and some inside the ship.