Mutiny 1299

"So, Senor Jhonen, when we going home?" The thin fighter named Raton grinned a weak smile and stared intensely into the fire where Franco and Bohemond lay. Occasionally, the fire danced just right and let gold shine through. The piercings of their enemies were found in the flames.

John didn't smile. "When I damn well say we go home."

"And when is that Senor?"

John grinned, his wired teeth glinting in the fire. "I'd say right about now."

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Back at the camp, Captain Olgromm stared out into the forest. The men under Jhonen had gone off nearly a week ago to fight the Hada de la Sur. One bedraggled fighter had returned with the spoils of the first village. It had amazed everyone at camp.

Gold.

Everyday ornaments made of gold. Piercings, children's toys, polished plates, spoons and forks, all made of gold. Not even the Spice Islands, where children played in silk garments, could imagine such wealth.

And this had been one village. A small one, by all accounts. Maybe twenty adults, with around ten children. Everyone one was slaughtered. The children did not wear gold, but they wore silver. A goodly amount too.

He had ordered his men to go further into the forest. They agreed, eyes glinting with gold. And theirs was a crew-man's share, not a captain or officer's share.

They hadn't been back for a week, then two weeks, then a month. Eleven men, swallowed up by the forest and its hamlets of gold. Then, three of the bedraggled men came out from the forest. They looked none too pleased, although their shoulders bore treasures.

Jhonen bore a hideous wound upon his left shoulder, and slouched that side of his body, giving him the grotesque appearance of some hunchbacked imp. Raton looked like his namesake, a dirty rodent in tattered clothes. He had a limp, a stuttering gait. The third man, whose name escaped almost everyone, was unharmed in anyway, but still had the half-dead look of the other two.

They placed their sacks of gold and food on the edge of the camp and approached the sentries. The Captain was already there.

"Ho! What'dya bring?"

The mutiny was quick and simple. They shot the Captain as he approached, metal balls tearing through his tanned hide.

"We're going home boys! No caps-shares!"

The sentries didn't disagree. All of the ship's guns had gone to the Hada fighters. They couldn't disagree.