“You betrayed us,” I accused the captain. “What an asshole.”
“It was not personal, Lord Baron,” the captain stammered. “But business is business.”
Lancelot grabbed the asshole captain by the collar and tossed him overboard. “Betray the fishes. You will fare better.”
We turned our backs on the treacherous captain’s pleas and his declaration of an inability to swim.
“Braden,” I yelled down to the hold. “We’re about to have unwelcome company.”
“We’re coming,” the Pict replied.
I began barking orders like a sea captain as Braden’s men ascended to the weather deck and formed a shield wall along the starboard rail. “Robert, cut the bowline. Percival, get the stern. Shove us off.” To the crew, I said. “Those who are treacherous bastards had better jump overboard if you don’t want to feel our steel. The rest of you hearty souls will be paid well. Now get busy and get this ship underway.”