With the desolation in the minds and hearts of the men aboard, the captain turned the ship southwest and the Caribbean Sea.

He’d told the crew they were there for the rum, but Jessop was quite sure it was to raise moral before returning to the coastal paroling of lone British ships heavy with cargo, money, and arms.

They dropped anchor off the coast of St. Croix and the men were allowed leave for a week.

Many drank the tragedy of the Hessians out of their minds, others found companionship with bar wenches to ease their woes, but at the end of their stay, Jessop and William found their distraction in the antics of a man named Olaf Olaffson.

* * *

Jessop and William along with Stubby and Tom were staying at the Soused Herring drinking ale when a giant blond man stepped through the door, wearing a leather cap that made his head look like a bullet.

A nose guard reached between his eyes to the tip of his nose covering it completely from sight. He wore trousers beneath a tunic that came to his knees and was belted at the waist. But it was the large broad sword in the scabbard on his back that caught most everyone’s attention. It must have been at least five feet in length and five inches across at its hilt.

He approached the bar discarding his helmet and demanded a pint of mead. The bar maid quickly handed him an ale and when he took a long draw on it his mustache was covered in foam.

He wiped his whiskery lip on his sleeve, slammed the tankard on the bar and belted out, “This isn’t mead.”

The barmaid looked scared to death as she claimed, “We don’t have any mead, only ale.”

The furrowed-brow, angry man stared at her for a second and said, “I like it! Another wench,” he said smiling and looking around at the patrons. None of the men caught his gaze intentionally but William who couldn’t seem to get over the size of the man and the sword on his back.

“You, lad, care to join me?” he asked, raising two fingers in the air to indicate to the barmaid to make that two ales.

“I…I….”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said plopping down on the bench across from William and Jessop. He made the table look minuscule and toy-like. “How about you?” he said directing his question to Jessop.

“Yes. Thank you,” Jessop answered the happy fellow as the barmaid set two tankards down.

“Thank you, darling,” he said slapping down a gold coin on the table in front of her and giving her a slap on the butt. “Make that one more from my friend here.”

She nodded looking a little red in the face at the strength of his sign of affection.

“My name’s Olaf. Who might you be?”

“I’m Jesse and this is William.”

“Jesse,” he nodded, “William,” then nodded again. “Good to meet you both.”

William said, “That’s quite a sword you’ve got on your back. I didn’t know anyone still used them.”

“Ja. It’s been in my family for generations,” he said as he pulled it from its scabbard and set it on the table. It reached full length of the table and when it hit the surface, it felt as though it weighed a great deal.

William was awestruck by its massiveness as was Jessop. It was well maintained but some of the nicks and scrapes were deep—a sign of use in many great battles. What Jessop noted was how easily Olaf handled the sword. William attempted to pick it up and quickly realized he needed to stand to engage his back and thigh muscles to help in doing so.

“My, but it’s heavy.”

“Ja, for little skinny arms like yours. You carry it around for a week and you’ll be turning the heads of that barmaid you’ve been eyeing.”

William blushed and quickly put the sword down.

Jessop asked, “You’re Norwegian, I’m guessing from your accent.”

“Ja. From the north—Tromso.”

“What brought you here to the Caribbean?” Jessop asked.

“Besides the weather?” he said jovially. “It’s been my boyhood dream to join the ranks of pirates. Thought this would be a good place to wait for a passing pirate ship and offer my service.”

William and Jessop looked at one another in surprise. “Why do you want to be a pirate?”

“I’m a Viking,” he said hitting his chest with his fist. “That’s what vikings did. It’s what my ancestors were—it’s what I’d like to be. My parent are both gone and my siblings have all moved to Greenland and Iceland. There’s nothing for me at home anymore. I packed my few belongings and made my way here.”

“How long have you been here waiting?” William asked.

“Forrige manede, I mean a month or more. I sometime say things in Norwegian before the English comes to me.”

“Your English is exceptional,” Jessop complimented.

“Thank you! What’s your business on St. Croix?”

Jessop and William looked at one another and chuckled a bit while Olaf took this moment to put his sword away. “Well, we are pirates and happen to be here on leave.”

Olaf’s face went stone cold. “I don’t like liars. I’ve been forthright with you, I expect the same courtesies.”

“We are pirates. We arrived on the Hades’s Revenge just this week while our quartermaster procures a supply of rum.”

“You don’t look much like pirates,” Olaf retorted.

“For that matter, neither do you,” William boasted.

“You don’t speak like pirates,” Olaf said doubtfully.

“We could throw a few ‘argh’s’ at you with an ‘avast ye, matey’ if you like,” Jessop offered in his best imitation of Bloody Harry Cash.

“And how did you two become pirates,” Olaf asked still not convinced.

“We were abducted initially from a pub in our home town with a dozen other souls to serve in the royal navy. Pirates over took the ship killing everyone, but the two of us. The captain saw us fighting, felt were we worth keeping alive IF we agreed to become pirates on his ship. That was what, maybe six months ago?” Jessop looked at William for verification on the facts.

“You two must be pretty good in combat, though I’d never have guessed skinny arms here would be much of a fighter.”

Jessop laughed and shoved William in the shoulder. William was not pleased by the comment. “He may not be a great swordsman, but he can wield an axe and throw knives like no one’s business,” Jessop commented.

“Hmm,” Olaf murmured as if he might to see a sample of that action.

“If you two truly are pirates, then might you be willing to get me an introduction with the captain or his first mate?” he said smiling again.

This time William looked to Jessop for a meeting of the eyes. “We can, though, I don’t know how much influence we have,” Jessop said.

William added, “The quartermaster doesn’t really like us much, but Jesse here, is on the captain’s good side.”

“You are too after making the peg leg for Salty.”

William didn’t totally agree but he nodded confirming the statement could be true.

“I’d be greatly obliged.”

“We can certainly try. It’d be better if we could see the captain, but Fin keeps us at a wide berth around the captain,” Jessop said.

“He like to be in control of what the captain does and doesn’t know,” William finished.

“A foot in the door is all I need. I’ll take it from there,” Olaf said confidently.

“Then your timing couldn’t be much better if you planned it. We’ll be heading to the ship in the morning with the rest of the crew.”

“Perfect,” Olaf said. He raised his tankard in the air and bellowed, “Skoll!”

William and Jessop followed Olaf’s lead and answered his cheer with one of their own, “Skoll.”

“Barmaid, another round for me and my brothers here.”

She nodded an acknowledgment of the order and when she came to the table with the drinks she kept an arm’s length distance from Olaf and his wondering hands. Olaf added, “Oh, and, miss, the scrawny one here, he’s got eyes for you,” with a wink.

Jessop laughed as William’s eyes met her smiling face and he went beet red and looked as if he would be much more comfortable under the table then sitting at it.

* * *

The rest of the day and night was spent getting to know Olaf and the great stories he had of his ancestors. Jessop and William couldn’t keep up with Olaf’s consumption of ale, but that didn’t mean they didn’t try.

When the singing began, Olaf joined right in and surprisingly to everyone in the room, despite how inebriated they were, Olaf had the voice of an angel. He offered up to them a folk song in Norwegian that had the room as quiet and still as a church and poor Stubby in tears. When he was done all applauded him and he reciprocated the flattery by buying them all a round of ale. He was a likeable bloke and made friends as easily as breathing.

The morning came too soon for Jessop and William as they tore themselves out of bed and lumbered down the stairs to the main room of the inn. There was Olaf shoveling in a plate full of eggs and potatoes washing it down with more ale.

Jessop’s head pounded and throbbed and he could see that William was in no better shape. They both sat at the table where Olaf quickly had the barmaid slipping plates of steaming food in front of them. It was the last thing Jessop wanted and he thought he saw William gag when he caught a whiff of the meal.

“Have a little ale, it will help with your headache,” Olaf offered as the barmaid brought them drink. William and Jessop doubted such a thing would help.

“Trust me,” Olaf implored.

Jessop and William clinked their tankards quietly together and whispered, “Skoll,” taking a long draw on the beer. A few minutes later, they did start to feel a little better and were even able to eat a bit of their meals.

Feeling better by the minute they stood and started to head for the door when the barmaid hurried over and kissed William on the cheek looking altogether coy about it. William blushed and asked Jessop if something had happened between the two of them the night before, but Jessop couldn’t remember much after the dancing on tables around midnight.

Everyone who passed Olaf gave him a pat on the back like old friends might. The crowd of them moseyed along the sandy path to the docks where the Revenge stood waiting for its crew.

At the top of the gang plank stood a perpetually grumpy Fin. With a notebook in hand checking off who was back onboard, he frowned even more when he saw the smiling face of the giant Olaf. Olaf had at least three inches on Fin horizontally and vertically. Jessop could see in his gestures that Fin liked being the biggest one on board and this larger creature did not sit well with him.

“What’s this?” Fin demanded.

Jessop offered, “This is Olaf.”

Olaf stood smiling from ear to ear down at Fin. His helmet was slightly crooked on his head making him look like a colossal child ready for a costume party. Olaf offered his hand to shake showing the tribal tattoos beneath his sleeves.

Jessop continued, “Olaf would like to join the crew.”

At hearing this, many of the men passing by added their approval with a, “Skoll, Olaf.”

This did not please Fin in the slightest.

“We’re not taking recruits at this time,” Fin said waving away Olaf’s hand.

“But, sir,” William said, “We lost Skipper and Roman when we took the Merriweather. Surely we can use another man to take their place.”

Fin didn’t like being challenged and certainly not by the likes of William or Jessop.

“What might he be knowing about seamanship?” Fin scoffed.

“A lot,” Jessop offered. “His family has been seafarers for generations and he and his brothers make boats for a living.”

Jessop could see this outburst had Fin steaming under the collar. He wondered if anyone else had offered up Olaf to Fin if he’d have reacted the same. Most likely not and this infuriated Jessop. Olaf deserved a chance and he wasn’t getting a fair run at it because of him and William.

“Look, Fin. I know you have your issues with me—and William because of his association with me, but Olaf is a decent man whose life-long dream is to sail under a jolly roger. Can’t you look past your hatred and see the asset of enlisting such a man?” Jessop said loudly and angrily.

Fin was about to lay him out on the deck for his subordination, but it was the captain who answered Jessop’s question.

“I can,” said the captain, just feet away from the two men who locked in a hateful stare. “He looks to be a right fit specimen an’ I’d be honored to have such a loyal and behemoth man sailing under me command.” The captain offered his hand in a shake.

“It’d be a privilege, Captain, sir,” Olaf said practically shaking the captain’s arm off. The captain eyed Fin and said in a murmur, “A word, Fin?” Fin nodded and followed the captain to a more private area to speak.

Olaf was thrilled and if he didn’t look like a little kid earlier, then he certainly did now. Jessop and William showed him the way to the barracks below and helped him get settled. They introduced him around to the officers and masters he had not met the night before at the inn.

It was Bloody Harry Cash who took a great liking to him and put him to work instantly on weighing the anchor.