Balin, pipe in mouth, watched the ships gently sway on the dark waters of the port, the creaking of ropes and moorings filling the air. He reflected on the past—when he was still young and ambitious—but the peace he felt while gazing at the sea quickly vanished when he recognized a familiar face. A pirate—the same one he had stolen a journal from years ago in a London tavern—was approaching, his gaze filled with rage.
"You thought you could get away with it, didn't you?" the pirate snarled, tossing a copy of Balin's failed novel at his feet.
"You… I—I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention… I… I didn't mean to," Balin stammered nervously.
"You didn't just steal from me. You published the journal in your damn novel," the pirate accused.
"What novel?" Balin asked, trying to appear surprised.
"Don't play dumb," the pirate snapped. "The Legend of the Uncharted Island—where you revealed every secret written in that journal, you filthy thief."
"No, that's not how it happened. I just borrowed it for inspiration," Balin said. "But you have to believe me—I was planning to return it to you. Besides, I wrote it under a pseudonym. How do you know it was me?"
"You're a cynical piece of garbage," the pirate spat. "That novel could only have been written by you. You got me into trouble, and it won't be long before they come after you."
"I don't think so. It was fiction… and it wasn't even famous. If you were expecting royalties, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"Give me back my journal. Now," the pirate demanded.
Balin bit his lip before answering nervously, "Your journal… I have it, but many pages were missing—and some were damaged during a storm."
"You scurvy little cur—by thunder, I'll gut you—!" the pirate bellowed, fists trembling with fury.
The old sea wolf, enraged, drew a large pistol from his belt and aimed it at Balin. Seeing the weapon, Balin raised his hands in terror.
"Please, don't kill me… please," he begged.
"Write your next novel from hell," the pirate growled, his finger tightening on the trigger.
But at that very moment, his expression twisted in pain. He clutched his chest and collapsed to the ground—dead from a heart attack. Balin, stunned, stared at the lifeless body. But without wasting another second, he turned and ran toward his house.
Meanwhile, from the shadows, Malachias Wilbur watched. When Balin fled the scene, the elf approached the pirate's corpse, picked up the book, and ran toward the fort.
After sweating profusely along the steep path leading to the fortress, he finally arrived and was granted entry to the courtyard, to pass into the governor's chambers.
Once, Gustave Hawk had been a ruthless pirate who raided Spanish ships and settlements before eventually entering the service of the British crown after receiving a letter of marque. After several services to the king in one of his endless colonial wars, he was finally rewarded with the title of governor of Isla Negra, an enclave that had been taken from the Spanish. It may not have been what he had hoped for, but it gave him the satisfaction of wielding power and imposing his will.
After climbing a set of stairs, Wilbur arrived at the governor's quarters, finally reaching Hawk's bedroom, which was guarded by a soldier dressed in a red coat who remained on watch.
When Wilbur introduced himself, he requested to be allowed inside. As the elf was the governor's personal secretary, there was no issue in letting him pass. Wilbur tiptoed toward the pirate's bed and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"Excellency... Excellency."
Hawk stirred for a moment, opened one eye, and upon seeing Wilbur's face, sat up, shouting:
"What the hell? What time is it to wake me up?"
"My apologies, Excellency, but there's a problem," Wilbur said.
Hawk, wearing his sleeping cap, settled back on the pillow, sat up, and crossed his arms to listen.
"Teddy the One-Handed is here," Wilbur announced.
The pirate looked at the elf, pursed his lips, and the tips of his mustache twitched in surprise.
"But Teddy's dead," he said.
"That's what we thought—until a few minutes ago, when I saw him talking to Balin Van Buuren."
"With Balin...? The failed writer?"
"Yes. Apparently, he came to confront him about a novel he wrote based on a journal he stole. He published it under a pseudonym, I assume to avoid dragging the failure of his name."
Hawk stared at the elf with wide eyes.
"A novel based on the journal?" he asked, astonished.
Wilbur showed him the book, and Hawk snatched it away to read the spine: The Legend of the Uncharted Island.
With a sudden movement, he threw it aside and jumped out of bed, still in his nightgown, to head to his study. He slammed the door open with one forceful blow, startling the drowsy guard.
"What's happening?" Wilbur asked, following him.
"God damn it... I knew this would come back to us like a curse sooner or later..."
Hawk entered his study and began pacing like a caged lion, muttering words that Wilbur couldn't quite understand.
"Can you tell me what's going on?" Wilbur asked.
"That damn pirate has ruined us all," the Hawk said. "Many years ago, Teddy got a journal from a sailor that showed how to reach a place with a fabulous treasure. It contained things like navigation charts, keys... all that. But due to a situation, Teddy disappeared and I never heard from him again... until now."
"Well, Teddy is lying at the dock. After his altercation with Balin, he died."
Hawk stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Wilbur by the lapels.
"I want that Balin here. Have him brought for questioning."
Wilbur left the room to give the orders, while Hawk chewed on the nail of his right thumb. Then, he spat it out and yelled for wine to be brought to him.
******
Balin, upon arriving home, headed to an old chest, which was stored in a corner of his study. He hurriedly opened it and began frantically pulling out its contents until he found the journal, a notebook with worn leather covers and yellow pages. As he picked it up, a few pages were left behind in the bottom of the chest. He then paced around the house, wondering what to do with it. He stopped and looked out the window toward the sea, and saw a ship with its sails raised. A bad feeling swept over him. Quickly, he rushed to his desk, grabbed a pistol, and prepared to leave. When he opened the door, he ran into Cody, who had his fist raised, as if about to knock.
"What are you doing here?" Balin asked, visibly nervous.
"My aunt sent me to deliver a message," the boy started to say.
Balin peeked both ways down the hall and pulled the boy inside. The boy looked at him, confused.
"Listen, Cody, take this to your aunt," he ordered, handing him the journal.
"What is this?... What's going on?"
"Don't ask and do as I ask. Where's Sammy?"
"With Sally at the tavern... by the way..."
Balin grabbed the boy by the sleeve and led him toward the kitchen, pushing him out through the back door.
"Run, go, and do what I asked," he insisted. "If I don't come for it by midnight, burn it."
Balin slammed the door and stood trembling in the corner. A noise snapped him back to his senses, and he began to tiptoe toward the front door, holding the gun. When he reached the living room, he found the door wide open. He rushed to close it and started to peer into the shadows with his gun, his hand trembling.
"Cody," he said. "Is that you?"
A coin flew into the corner and hit the wall. Balin turned, terrified, and in doing so, fired at the ceiling. At that moment, he felt himself being tackled, tied up, gagged, and covered with a sack.
Within seconds, the Germans had subdued him, secured him, and dragged him down one of the cliffs toward the base, where there was a narrow pebble beach with a boat and an armed man waiting. They shoved Balin into the boat like a mere sack of potatoes and pushed it into the sea to start rowing toward the ship waiting for them.
******
Cody returned to his aunt's house, where he found her standing guard at the door with her musket. He explained what happened at Balin's house and showed her the book, which his aunt took, confused.
"My God," she said, flipping through it. "Maybe it's something compromising."
"He said to throw it in the stove if he doesn't come back by midnight for it."
The aunt put it in a cupboard and asked him to alert Sammy. They might be on the brink of danger. With his heart racing, the boy ran out of the house while Aunt Connie closed the door and took position in front of it with her musket, ready to shoot anything that might try to enter.
Cody reached the tavern and made his way through the hall, pushing through drunken pirates and crazy women. He entered the kitchen, where Sally was serving stew to some patrons. When she saw him, she began reprimanding him.
"Did you go to New York for the pies?... Where are they?" she asked.
Cody felt like he couldn't speak; he was blocked. At that moment, Frank came over to tell Sally there was a fight in the tavern. The pirate rolled up her sleeves.
"I haven't finished with you. Put on the apron and take these plates to table three," she ordered Cody before heading out to restore order in the hall.
The boy entered the kitchen, where Mrs. Marley was busy cooking and preparing stews, assisted by her helper Meg and her daughter, while Sammy was washing dishes, rinsing them in a large wooden tub. The boy stood in front of her, nervously clenching his fists.
"What do you need, jars or plates? "Sammy said without looking at him.
"Sammy, we're in trouble," he said.
"Did you spill beer on the customers again?, " the girl asked, turning to look at him with anger.
" Something worse, " Cody replied.
Pulling her by the shoulder, they left the kitchen, and went to the storage room, where sacks of flour, barrels, and baskets were kept. He then proceeded to tell her what had happened. After hearing the story, the girl ran to the door and left the tavern, followed by Cody, to head toward her house. Once on the street, she quickened her pace until she started running.
As she ran, she felt her heart racing. The journey felt long until she finally saw her house on the cliff, but to her surprise, it was surrounded by British soldiers. She entered and saw them rummaging through all the rooms, emptying drawers and cabinets. In the study, Wilbur was examining each drawer and book, now scattered everywhere.
"What's going on?, " the girl asked, disturbed.
The sergeant looked at her and walked over.
"Where's your grandfather?," he asked.
"What's happening?... Why are you here?... Where's my grandfather?," Sammy asked, visibly shaken by the sight of the military invading her home and, worst of all, digging through her belongings without any orders.
A soldier came in and reported to the sergeant that there was no trace of Balin.
"Do you know or not know where your grandfather is?,"the soldier asked.
"I don't know where he is... What are you doing here."
The sergeant looked around and, with a signal, ordered her arrest.
Cody had stayed outside and only watched, terrified, as they took Sammy away in chains. Meanwhile, Wilbur continued searching through Balin's office when a soldier notified him that they were returning to Queen Anne's Fort.
"I'll catch up with you in a moment," the elf said, staying alone in the room.
He continued checking drawers until he saw a chest in the corner with part of its contents scattered. He approached, opened it, and rummaged to find some loose papers. When he picked them up and saw them, he realized they were written in Elvish. Intrigued, he tucked them into his pea coat. The elf began his journey back to the fort, deep in thought about the meaning of all this. He had read that novel, he knew what it was about, but couldn't find any plausible connection that tied it to something real. It was fiction, fantasy.
He crossed the port streets and began ascending the path that led to the fort when, out of nowhere, he was ambushed and dragged into the foliage. Wilbur had no time to cry for help; a rag was shoved into his mouth as he was forced down the narrow trail toward the beach, nestled at the base of the cliffs beneath the fortress. They threw him roughly to the ground. He landed face-first in the sand, the gritty taste filling his mouth. As he lifted his head, he found himself staring at the imposing figure of a pirate—his expression grim, his eyes burning with a familiar, fierce intensity. It was Sebastián el Carioca. A chill surged down Wilbur's spine.
"Captain Sebastián,"Wilbur said, visibly nervous.
"Well, well… Mr. Wilbur, it's been a long time… too long. A shame that debts don't expire," the pirate said.
Wilbur got on his knees and clasped his hands together.
"Captain, please forgive me... It's truly a surprise to see you here, and believe me, I've never forgotten my debt," Begged Wilbur.
"It's been quite some time, and from what I know, you've held a privileged position within the Corsair Hawk's entourage... Or should I call him Mr. Governor. Does your boss know who you worked for before being his servant?"
"No, sir… Of course not "answered Wilbur.
"Of course not, because if you did, you'd be hanging in the square"
"Yes, sir, I beg you."
"I don't think you're in a position to beg. A traitor doesn't deserve such grace... other than death."
Wilbur began to sob, terrified.
"Don't kill me, please, captain, I beg you. I'll do anything, please,"he said.
The Carioca, whose ferocious temper knew no bounds, moved closer to Wilbur with a malicious smile.
"Are you sure you'd do anything?"
"Yes, sir, please, spare my life. I promise to pay what I owe and do whatever you ask."
"Well, I don't know if I can be magnanimous with a traitor."
The elf clasped his hands together and looked pleadingly at the Carioca.
"I'll do anything, ask me for whatever you want… and I'll do it," he said, lowering his head while raising his hands in supplication.
"We need to get into the fort" demanded the Carioca.
Wilbur looked at him in surprise.
"Get into the fort?, " he asked.
"Are you deaf?... Or should I tell my men to make a bigger hole in your head so you can hear better", the pirate said.
One of the men pulled out a pistol and pressed it against his temple.
"Yes, I understand, sir" Wilbur replied.
"Can you get us access? If not, we'll relieve you of your debts and punishments."
The elf swallowed, terrified.
"I can get you access… There's a secret cave that leads to the fort. I'll open a secret door from the inside, and you can get in,"the elf explained.
The Carioca looked at his men and then at Wilbur.
"Well, that seems like a fair deal," the Carioca said.
Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief, hopeful.
"If you try to betray us, I'll personally gut you, Wilbur," the pirate threatened.
The pirates grabbed Wilbur and made him lead them to the entrance of the cave.