As the blue and gold standard of her majesty’s navy was hauled down the mainmast and, in its place, up was run the black skull-and-crossbones of piracy, a cheer went up from the mutinous crew. As of that moment, the Sloop of War Sophia was under new command. Just before dawn, the mutineers had made their move, breaking down the door to the ship’s magazine and powder room, distributing cutlasses, pistols and blunderbusses to all their confederates. Half of them rounded up the rest of the crew, still asleep in their hammocks, while the other half saw of the officers and captains.

“You treasonous dogs, you’ll all hang for thi-Mmmppphhh!!!” Captain Elizabeth Avebrucks’ threat was silenced as a ragged cloth was roughly bound between her lips. The captain, or rather former captain of the Sophia knelt on the main deck. She glared up at the mutineers around in front of her, chief among them Mate Isabella, the ringleader of the mutiny and now, by election, the pirate mistress of this vessel. She’s already taken the liberty of raiding her former commanding officer’s wardrobe and had traded her seaman’s striped shirt and breeches for a fine coat of blue cloth and gleaming brass buttons.

Behind Elizabeth, the rest of her officers and those crew who were either known to be loyal hands or had simply been too slow to swear their allegiance to the mutineers’ cause, also knelt. All of the captives had their hands tied behind their backs with ship’s cable. A few of the more vocal, like the captain, had been roughly gagged.

“I’ve taken my last order from you, captain.” Isabella taunted. “From now on, this is my vessel, I’ll be giving the orders. And the first will be too decide what to do with you lot.” She cast her gaze across the assorted captives, some, like the former captain, defiant, others showing more fright. What would be their fate at the hands of these bloodthirsty buccaneers? The plank? Keel hauling? Marooning?

“We’re setting a new course, Hogshead Island.” Isabella said, matter-of-factly. There were murmurs of approval from some of the mutineers. It was a well known pirate port. “We’ll take on some more hands to work the sails and man the guns and then we’re cruising for plunder, but we’ll need money to lay in provisions for the voyage. I wager we’ll be able to get a good price for this lot off the slave traders there, don’t you think?”

Again, there were murmurs of approval from the pirates, mixed with cries of horror from the captives. While not as bad as they might have feared, to be sold into slavery, condemned to a life toiling in the hot fields under the lash or worse, locked in some dreadful whorehouse the rest of their lives, was a frightening enough prospect itself.

“Before that, though, they’ll need to be broken to the lash. I don’t think the traders would pay a piece of eight for this one…” Isabella teased, tussling Elizabeth’s hair. “They could see right away she’s a rebellious one. But like you used to say, Captain, a lick of the ‘cat’ will set that right, you bet.”

This brought cheers from the mutineers. The captain had indeed been pretty quick to give any sailor who crossed her the old cat-o-nine tails. Several of them surged forward, grabbing the unfortunate woman. She was hustled forward to the mast. Her hands were untied and lashed over her head to the stout wooden beam. A sailor produced a sharp dirk and soon had her shirt-back sliced open from neck to waist, exposing her naked back to the punishment.

Meanwhile, another of the sailors, Mary, ran to fetch the ‘cat’ from the bucket of saltwater brine it was habitually kept in. Several sailors jockeyed for the honor of getting the first blow before it was eventually handed off to Lucy the deckhand who two days before had been given half a dozen lashes by order of the captain for giving one of the officers a cross look. It had been the last straw that set off the mutiny.

“Here’s your six lashes back, captain, with interest!” She exclaimed with glee, bringing the cat down onto Elizabeth’s back. The captain hissed sharply as the knotted ends of the cat left red marks across her pale skin. After only a couple more, Lucy was forced to hand off to another eager sailor. Plenty more lined up behind her…

“Don’t go too hard lasses!” Isabella warned, tauntingly. “We’ve still got this lot here waiting for their turn.” She grinned at the other captives. “And besides, Hogshead Island is at least a week away, if the wind holds. We’ll have plenty of time to get this lot used to the ‘cat’ before we sell them…”