Against All Flags

That's the full 20.

Take him to his cabin.

Don't trouble to rise, Hawke.

I deeply regret the

necessity for this flogging.

Thank you, sir.

I don't think

the flogger needed

to carry it out

with such gusto.

You requested

the customary lashing.

I know, sir.

Of course, you could have done

me the favor of denying it.

I swear he took

a particular pleasure

in having an officer

under his cat.

Should you fail,

you'll look back on

Flogger Flower's lashing

as a pleasant

afternoon's pastime.

That's another reason, sir, why I've

not the least intention of failing.

Is the longboat ready?

You'll put off at dark.

You should reach

Diego Suarez within 10 days.

Jones and Harris

will accompany you.

Good. And when do you meet

with Sir Cloudsley?

We sail immediately to

rendezvous with him off Cape Town.

I will join him

aboard his man-of-war,

and we'll cruise outside the

northernmost tip of Madagascar

the week agreed upon.

I'll send you the rocket

flare as we arranged.

Should the week pass

and there be no signal,

well, since I've no kin,

there'll be none to mourn me.

Brave men are not forgotten.

Thank you, sir, but...

Sometimes they don't live

long enough to be remembered.

Longboat approaching.

We'll take them to

He'll know what to

do with them. Move.

Swaine.

What's this I hear?

There's no truth

to it, sir.

Now, you know the punishment

for concealing booty.

I swear, Captain

I took only my share.

You lie!

Belike you'll

tell the truth now.

You best speak the truth

or the carrion will feed on

your guts before the sun sets.

I took no booty.

Now, place the truth

on your tongue

or I will place this knife

between the other two.

No, don't!

I did take some.

But I meant no harm.

I'll show you where it is.

All right, tie this

foul-smelling pig below.

Hey, Spitfire!

Keep your distance,

Captain Roc.

That's a terrible

hard thing to do.

Then you'd better learn

or I'll have to teach you.

You were never offended before

when I took a fancy to you.

After last night, I'll do my

own fancy and when the time...

Come on now, Spitfire,

let bygones be bygones.

Caught these cullies

coming ashore in a longboat.

Well,

what have you to say?

We're deserters from the East

India Company ship Monsoon.

Brian Hawke at

your service, ma'am.

This is Jones, topman.

Harris, gunner's mate.

Deserters, huh?

Well, what do

you want here?

Why, to sail against

all flags, naturally.

You're an officer,

aren't you?

You'll excuse our

appearance, I trust, ma'am,

surely, after a week

in an open longboat.

Strip me.

If I'd expected to meet

somebody like you here,

why, I'd have brought

a valet along with me.

I'm not exactly dressed to meet

distinguished company myself.

Blast your guts! I asked

you if you were an officer.

Well, the answer, sir,

should be obvious even to you.

He was an officer,

a lieutenant, sir,

afore they broke him and

give him 20 with the cat, sir.

Got in trouble with

a passenger, he did.

Oh, a passenger, eh?

I don't like

the cut of your sail.

Well, now, come right

down to it, Captain,

I don't much care for

the cut of your own.

Batten your mouth or

I'll batten it for you.

You have the stink

of a spy to me.

Know anyone here

who can vouch for you?

No, sir. We was just

in irons for stealing rum.

Met up with him

in the brig, we did.

Take them to

the auction block.

Bring him tonight before

the Captains of the Coast.

Captains of the Coast?

What do they have

to say about us?

Not much.

Only whether you'll go pirating

or have your throats cut.

Oh.

Well, if there's any

chance of that, ma'am,

I'd like to have

mine shaved first.

You're a regular rooster,

aren't you?

And why not, ma'am?

You seem to be a

high-spirited chick yourself.

I hopes you're finding

the edge smooth, sir.

Smooth as silk,

surgeon.

Usually I uses this one

for throat-cutting,

but seeing this is

a special occasion...

Well, sink me.

You mean to say that

you're the executioner,

as well as the barber,

as well as the surgeon?

Bless me, sir, if it

weren't for the hangings

and the throat-cutting,

I'd starve to death.

Hangings is for crimes

committed aboard ship.

Throat-cuttings is for

the molesting of females

or the hiding of loot.

Course, I don't make

nothing on the spies, sir.

They goes

to the tide stakes.

What a pity.

What are these

tide stakes?

Just some poles they've stuck

in shoal water on the reef, sir.

Gives the crabs

a chance to get at them

afore the water

comes in to drown them.

Crabs are as big

as coconuts here.

I've seen blokes' bones

a- stripped to the hips

afore the water had a chance

to reach their heads.

Archimedes,

hand me that towel.

You seem to lead

a very interesting life.

Oh, yes, sir.

It's barbering

I hankers for, though.

Gets in a man's blood,

it does, sir.

That's why I'm thankful to Spitfire

Stevens for sending me to you.

Spitfire, huh?

There must be

a reason for that name.

You'll find out, sir, if you

ever tries to lay a hand on her.

Not much chance of it.

Might be worth it, barber,

it might be worth it.

That's better.

Thank you,

Master Cruikshank.

Your servant,

Mistress Stevens.

Come along, Archimedes,

and don't forget to tip

your hat to the lady.

How can I tip me hat

with my blooming hands full?

Come on, me lad.

Come on, come along.

I'm much beholden to you,

Mistress Stevens.

So, you had trouble

with a passenger?

A female passenger,

no doubt.

No, ma'am, my oath on it.

I had no trouble with her,

merely because of her.

I never have trouble

with women, never.

You don't?

I've got a feeling that

you're going to and soon.

But I think you'd be a

bad judge of that, ma'am.

I'll warrant, I'll wager that

you've never even kissed a man

without a great bushel

of whiskers on his chin.

Perhaps not,

but it's easily remedied.

I lost.

Well?

I'll survive.

I'll survive.

Of course, if I didn't

have my hands tied...

Of course, of course.

But don't get any

wrong ideas about me.

I may have use for you when

I know that I can trust you.

Otherwise, you'll find

your hands tied again

and not to an auction block

but to a tide stake.

But then that's for us

to decide tonight.

Us?

Tonight?

What do you mean?

You're one of the

Captains of the Coast?

And why shouldn't I be

when I own a ship?

No reason at all, ma'am.

Except that...

If the Captains do

decide to dispose of me,

I shall only regret that I didn't

have the honor of serving under you.

Harris, who are these Captains of

the Coast that have the say about us?

The same crew of cutthroats that

sailed the Spanish Main out of Tortuga.

That right, sir?

Oh, yes. Yes.

Seems that times

are changing, though.

You say you were broken from your

rank as lieutenant on the Monsoon?

Yes, sir, formally broken

before passenger and crew.

But it is a simple affair,

monsieur,

to tear buttons

from a coat, is it not?

So say I.

Why waste our time listening

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