Chapter 1: The Approaching Storm

The leading edge of the rain reached High Street. Thin rivers of water formed between the cobblestones and began to flow down the gentle slope towards the wharf. From the window in his home, William Salt watched the scene. He saw tarpaulins, bales and wooden casks on the docks soaked by the water. He saw the clouds in the sky above grow dark as the sun set behind them. And anchored just offshore, rolling in the growing swell of the storm, he saw his sloop, the Resolution.

William was content. In the shelter of his modest home he counted his blessings. Colonial New England was a challenging place to survive in. As a child, he had lost his father in the Indian wars, two siblings to disease, and his oldest brother Joseph to the sea. At least, that was what he remembered. His mother had often told stories of when the family was younger and stronger, but when she passed away he found himself alone in the New World.

William found work aboard a fishing sloop. He was an honest man, he worked hard, and the letters which his mother had taught him as a child opened up opportunities for him. As he grew older he was made the ship’s mate. He was valued for his skill as a negotiator, and in time he had saved enough money for his own small ship. Now, with a merchant sloop which traded goods with the West Indies, he could afford a small home by the waterfront. Despite the storm outside, he felt a growing sense of optimism and good fortune.

In contrast, he looked out across the bay and saw the lifeless forms of three recently condemned pirates, swinging from the gallows on the opposite shore. How good men could go wrong and choose such a life he could never understand. Four had been caught; one had escaped in chains, though wounded in the process. That was no life. He sipped his tea in silence and stared thoughtfully out the window.

There was a flash of lightening and a deafening boom of thunder outside. His tea rippled in its cup and cookware rattled in the kitchen. But as he listened more closely he grew stiff. That was not the rattle of plates, but of chains. William stood cautiously and crept to the kitchen door. He peered slowly around the opening.

Crouching low near the fireplace was a dark figure, his weathered skin clearly marked by a hard life. His ragged clothes were wet with both rain and blood. A broad leather belt was wrapped around his waist. Binding his hands were shackles. Long, wild hair was tied back, revealing a long scar along one cheek. It took a moment for William to recognize the strange familiarity of the convict, but then he gasped aloud “Joseph!”

“Shhh!” uttered the pitiful rogue, beckoning his brother to come closer…

Chapter 2: The Prodigal Son

In the flickering light of the storm, Captain William Salt gazed in disbelief at his long-lost brother, a fugitive pirate, crouching and bleeding before him in chains. He went to him, slowly at first, then quickly embracing him as tears ran down his cheeks. Joseph motioned for silence, fearfully glancing at the open window. There were steps outside and voices of gruff men shouting, “He came this way!”

William understood, so he got up and closed the window’s wooden shutters. He locked the door, too. He lit a candle, poured two drinks and set some bread and cheese at the table. Then, he helped Joseph into a chair and gave him some of the food. The older man winced as he was moved. There was blood flowing from a hole in his shirt, high up on his left shoulder.

Trying to examine the wound, William’s hand was brushed aside by his brother’s.

“Don’t bother, I don’t have long for this world…”

“Joseph, no, let me try and help you!”

But it was no use, the pirate had been bleeding for a long time, and there was not much life left in him. He was having difficulty talking, and motioned for William to lay him down. William did so.

“I’m sorry, Will…” he said, struggling for breath between his words. “They attacked my ship off of Brazil…there was no choice.”

Joseph beckoned for some water, then continued, “Join or die…I became one of them…I’m sorry…”

The moment was difficult for William. He wanted to ask his brother so many things. He wanted to get him help for his wound. But that was impossible, he knew. The town would only hang Joseph for his piracy. It seemed important, then, that he just be with him, listening and comforting him as he was able.

“I did horrible things, Will, horrible…all the gold, so much gold…I’m rich, Will…and it is worth nothing now….” He paused and his mind seemed to wander off. His breathing grew slower. Then he turned his head and looked deep into William’s eyes.

“Take my share, Will…” he gasped, “…redeem me with it, please…”. Even in the dim candlelight William could see that color was draining from Joseph’s face, but he bore a desperate look, as if there was one last thing he was trying to say, but could not. As William drew closer, Joseph opened his mouth and barely whispered “…my.. ...belt..”.

His brother lay still as the cryptic words fell bluntly on William’s ears. Outside, he could hear the rain falling heavily. He heard the sounds of feet splashing through puddles. There were knocks on doors, now, as the militia searched the houses door-to-door for the convict. They would be here any minute…