Buccaneer

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It was a stormy day on the Arabian Sea. Dark clouds hung low on the horizon and an angry wind scoured the decks with salt spray. William Kidd stood on board the Adventure Galley, surveying his prize. The merchant vessel sailed under Armenian colors, but carried French passes guaranteeing its protection, and that made it a fair game. They’d taken it with little resistance offered by its crew. If its cargo holds carried half the wealth he hoped, he would be a rich man.

“Captain, may I have a word?”

He turned to see an ashen-face Joseph Palmer standing behind him, shifting his weight from side to side and looking about as if fearful of being overheard.

“What is it, Palmer?”

“We have a problem.” The sailor dropped his gaze, reluctant to continue.

“What is it? It can’t be the cargo. The ship was riding too low in the water for her to be empty.”

“No, Captain, it isn’t that. It’s the finest haul we’ve ever made. Gold and silver, silk and satin, and all sorts of fine things.”

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