The crew had gathered in a silent, tense ring. The charge was mutiny.
As the Sea Witch unfurled her black flags, Elara touched the parchment nailed to the mast. The ink was smeared, the edges burned. But the words remained clear: pirates law
"That's where you're wrong, Silas," she said, her voice as cold as the deep ocean. "We are bound by a higher law. The only one that matters out here. The Pirate Code." The crew had gathered in a silent, tense ring
That night, Silas took his lashes without a sound. The next morning, he stood at the helm, charting a course toward a fat East Indiaman reported off the Cape. The ink was smeared, the edges burned
"I led us into that ambush at Devil's Cove," Elara confessed. "I let my greed for Spanish gold override the caution the Code demands. Silas was wrong to strike me, but he was right to question me."
She stepped down from the quarterdeck and stood beside Silas. Then, to the shock of everyone, she unbuckled her sword belt and laid her weapons at Peg's feet.
Elara turned to the quartermaster. "The Code is clear. The captain retains command. However, the challenge was lawful." She looked at Silas. "You will not be marooned. You will receive twenty lashes for striking me. And then, if you wish, you will be restored as navigator."