British hegemon

Chapter 70 Part-time Pirate

In the guest room of the mansion of wealthy merchant Jeffrey in Strys, Roger sat at a wooden table examining a brand-new knight's sword.

When Roger took the sword from his uncle Jeffrey and drew it from its sheath, he was captivated by it—the broad, thick blade with a slightly grayish-black metallic sheen was covered with patterns left from hundreds of forgings, the pommel was engraved with a Holy Cross, there was a raised ring in the middle of the hilt, the guard was slightly curved forward, the blade had two hilts, the parallel blade edge and the long oval head all proclaimed its heavy power.

The name "Knight's Sword" is a bit vague; it should be called a greatsword. It is wider and heavier than the half-sword left by "Father" Sir Colin, and with its yew scabbard, it is even more substantial in the hand, probably weighing about four pounds.

Jeffrey said the sword was made by Dublin’s best weaponsmith over half a month and cost a full two pounds and fifteen shillings. It was originally intended for his cousin Owen’s knighthood ceremony and had not yet been gilded or decorated.

However, since Roger had already become a knight, he generously gave it to him.

Roger loved the sword; he even felt he should find a master swordsman to learn a few moves from it.

"Young Master Roger~" Bah~ "Sir, that old geezer and that dry wood stick have been arranged to board the ship." The bald man who barged in woke Roger from his daze.

"I heard you spent a lot of money bringing these two good-for-nothings back?"

Roger sheathed his sword. "Who said that?"

"Blackie, you said you spent ten shillings on that dry stick."

"I'm asking you, who said they're trash?"

Seeing Roger's serious tone, the bald man scratched his head. "Well, one's a lousy old man, and the other's a piece of dry wood, they're both useless."

"Ponytail and Black Dog think so too." The bald man dragged Ponytail and Black Dog into the conversation as well.

"Let me tell you, I need both of them, especially that sorcerer, he's an old treasure. You bunch of bastards, be more polite to him."

Roger stood up. "Go to the ship and tell everyone that we will set sail for home early tomorrow morning. Tonight, everyone is allowed to disembark and spend the night in the town of Strys."

"If everyone leaves, who will guard the Seawolf? There's so much money and cargo on board."

Roger smiled slightly, "Didn't you think others were useless? Then the three of you who aren't useless can stay and guard the ship. If you dare let a rat steal a bite of bread, I'll break your legs."

"what?"

"roll."

"Okay."

…………

On September 15, 1305, a light rain and breeze fell, and the sky was overcast.

As agreed, Jeffrey obtained 500 pounds of high-quality iron for Roger, all in five-pound ingots, which he then placed in oak barrels to disguise as wine.

Uncle Jeffrey returned to the Dublin Merchant Guild, and Aunt, along with her two cousins, saw Roger off at the fishing village dock.

Before Roger left, she gave him a large amount of fine cloth, candied fruit, spices, and other items to take to his family on Arlen Island.

The three men on board the Seawolf – Baldy, Ponytail, and Black Dog – had led several fishermen who hadn't gone to the market town the night before to replenish their fresh water and raise their sails.

Roger rewarded Jeffrey, the steward, and the trade manager who had been in charge of the trade recently, with a considerable sum of money. He even gave two silver pennies each to the deaf and blind old couple who helped watch the goods and cook on the island. Sometimes, little devils are more useful than the King of Hell.

Before boarding the ship, Roger learned that there was a batch of iron ore with a high iron content stored in the warehouse of the isolated island. So he had someone take 600 pounds onto the ship, intending to return to Arran Island to try to explore some smelting technology. The ore was scarce and cheap, and the steward, who had just received a reward, immediately decided to give it to Roger.

That's just how the world is.

After spending two or three days on the deserted island, the Seawolf set sail, but it did not obediently return the way it came.

Yes, Roger changed his return plans at the last minute, just as he decided to spend money to buy that dry-wood sailor.

The sailor, Tolan Pritchar, was over thirty, which in this era could certainly be considered middle-aged. He was from Aglesey, North Wales, and had been a sailor since he was fifteen. This spring, unable to tolerate the insults and abuse from his English employer, he got into a fight, broke the other man's nose, and was imprisoned for more than half a year. Then, after going through a trial in an English court, he was sentenced to have his hand chopped off.

A middle-aged sailor with rich seafaring experience, a Welshman with a blood feud against the English, he was worth more than ten shillings in Roger's eyes.

To prove this, Roger changed his return journey plans.

"...The northern coast is mostly patrol ships, with few merchant ships, so your planned northern plunder route is not very feasible. We should first head south seven miles to the northeast waters of Lambe Island to anchor and spy."

"Lambé Island also has a private port to avoid customs. Merchant ships from both the Wales and Isle of Man routes would send inconspicuous small boats to Lambe Island to unload smuggled goods."

"Ships traveling on the Welsh route are usually escorted, and they're mostly in large groups, which is too risky. I suggest we intercept the few small boats coming from the Isle of Man. The best time is an hour before dark. An hour is enough to get things done. If we get close and find that we're outnumbered, we can escape immediately and shake off their pursuit under the cover of darkness." After a hearty meal and a good night's sleep on the Seawolf, the emaciated sailor Toran had regained some energy and was now explaining Roger's initial plan to the crew under the thatched shed on the helm in the stern tower.

Toran was experienced; every ship was capable of such shady dealings at sea, so it was uncertain who would be the mantis and who would be the oriole. It was essential to prepare an escape route for any risky operation.

"Dry stick~" the bald man blurted out, and the woman with the ponytail immediately nudged him with her elbow.

The bald man glanced at Roger, who was deep in thought, and immediately changed his tune, "Uh, Toran, you've done your fair share of highway robberies before, haven't you?"

Sailor Toran raised his skull-like face and forced a smile. "You can call me Dry Wood Stick, that's a pretty good nickname."

Then, speaking in heavily English-accented Irish Gaelic, he said, "We didn't do these evil things long ago, but since the English took over this sea, more and more Welsh captains have gone bankrupt because they can't make a profit. In order to avoid going bankrupt, we have to do things against our conscience."

"What does it matter if it's against my conscience or not? As long as it's robbing the English, it's the most righteous cause." The man with the ponytail clenched his fist and waved it, his hatred for the English running deep.

"We must make sure that anchoring and spying doesn't arouse excessive suspicion from English merchant ships," Roger said, arms crossed, gazing south as if talking to himself.

"Olav, does the Seawolf have any English merchant flags on board?" Roger turned his gaze to Olaf, who was standing to the side.

Olaf replied frankly, "Of course, we often approach enemy ships under different merchant ship identities before launching a surprise attack."

"Very good, send the underlings to find merchant ships in the southern sea area and hoist their flags onto their masts."

An hour later, the Seawolf successfully reached an area about seven miles northeast of Lambe Island, lowered its sails and anchored.

This location was decided after intense discussions between Olaf, Toland, and the interim captain. This area is under English control, and being too close to islands or the mainland would make it too easy to attract patrol ships for inspection and pursuit; being too far away would also be problematic, firstly because it would be easy to lose direction without a reference point, and secondly because it would be impossible to intercept the prey if it was too far away.

To minimize the possibility of the target being exposed, the Seawolf will adjust its course and anchor perpendicular to the Irish coastline.

Half of the crew, including Roger, had never experienced naval warfare, and the remaining half, except for Olaf, were not skilled in naval combat either. So the Seawolf, with its sails lowered and anchored, waited anxiously in this unfamiliar sea.

Roger handed over command of the "pirate war" to the more professional Olaf, willingly becoming a soldier himself.

Olaf was surprised by Roger's decision and trust. He immediately arranged for two people to go up the tower to monitor the situation. Then he led everyone except the alchemist to practice boarding maneuvers over and over again. They practiced their balance by moving back and forth on the gangplank, how to use shields to block enemy arrows, how to stand firm as much as possible in the undulating waves, and even taught everyone a few English phrases to persuade them to surrender.

Everyone was already feeling uneasy, and the practice match helped ease their tension.

Roger thought there were many ships passing by on this ambush line, but he ended up waiting for three days.

On the afternoon of the first day, three ships from the Isle of Man passed in front of the ambush point, making it impossible to carry out the attack.

The next morning, they saw a lone ship approaching in the distance. Excitedly, they went to meet it, but two miles away, they discovered that it was actually a "giant ship" twice the size of the Seawolf. Taking advantage of the fact that it had not caused any misunderstanding, they fled in embarrassment.

The following afternoon, a fierce wind arose on the sea, and the Sea Wolf was nearly capsized by the waves. Everyone was terrified and covered in cold sweat, so no one dared to go out to work.

On the morning of the third day, the sky was clear and bright—perfect weather for a highway robbery—but there wasn't a single bird on the sea.

It was the afternoon of the third day, around 2 p.m., and the Seawolf was fleeing.

That's right, the Seawolf is being pursued by two English patrol vessels in the Irish Sea.

After three days at sea, the Seawolf, with its erratic movements, finally attracted the attention of the coastal fleet.

Not daring to head directly north towards the coast, as a northward return close to the shore would likely attract more enemy ships to pursue and intercept them, the Seawolf first darted southward in an attempt to blend into the main shipping lanes of Wales and Dublin. This made it difficult for the pursuing English ships to identify the ship and slowed down their pursuit. Then, the Seawolf raised its sails and rowed eastward for about ten miles before immediately breaking away from the course and heading north. Only then did the two English warships disappear from sight.

"How is it? Is this a familiar route?" Roger asked Toran, a sailor who still looked somewhat haggard.

Sailor Toran, leaning against the railing of the stern tower, raised his hand and eyebrows to look at the sun, then surveyed the vast, empty sea, shook his head, and said, "I'm not good at navigation, so I can't pinpoint our exact location. But since leaving the main channel, I've been calculating the ship's speed and distance. I estimate we've already crossed the Isle of Man-Dublin route. I suggest we sail due north for another hour, then immediately turn northwest and locate our position close to the shore."

In fact, having traveled at high speed along the Wales-Dublin route for quite some time, the Seawolf was still south of the Isle of Man-Dublin route at this point.

"Olav, what's your opinion?" Roger turned to Olaf, who had just finished paddling.

Olaf, slumped on the deck of the stern tower, was exhausted and replied without looking up, "Sir, we usually only raid in familiar waters. I've never been to this area in the south, and I'm not familiar with it."

He took a breath. "But we've shaken off the pursuers. We should definitely get closer to the coast now, so we don't completely lose our way and end up in an even more dangerous place."

Roger was also slightly frightened by the dangerous situation he had just experienced. Not to mention the hundreds of pounds in the stern of the ship, it would have been truly pathetic if he had lost his life. "First, sail due north for an hour, then immediately turn northwest and get close to the shore as soon as possible to determine our position."

They went out to rob, but were chased like mad dogs by the English. It was inevitable that everyone would feel down, but the excitement of surviving the ordeal overshadowed the negative emotions. Piracy is not a business that can be successful every time, let alone for a group of semi-amateur pirates.

Roger, mindful of the anxiety and fear everyone had felt for him recently, promised that upon returning to Arun Island, everyone would receive a reward based on their contributions.

The crowd's spirits immediately lifted, and they prepared to return home with peace of mind.