Pirates Return IC

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LeBihan stared at the unconscious man at his feet. He kicked him roughly on the man's shoulder. He came to life again quickly after that. "You've solved the riddle already?" LeBihan said, "Tell me before I give to the rest of the crew."


Three Swords waited by the tunnel. The nobles were talking amongst themselves, trying to ease their nerves. The minute passed but Three Swords waited another five before he began to move toward the stairs. "Wait!" someone said, "Can you hear that?" Abbot glanced at the man and then turned to listen into the tunnel. He could hear booted feet coming down the tunnel and the occasional scrape of a cutlass against the stone wall. But there were more than one set of boots coming down the tunnel.

"Quickly! Up the stairs and out - make for the Pale Horse. They're inside the tunnel." Abbot took one last look down into the cave in the hope that the native would come rushing out before whoever else was in there before hurling himself up the stairs.

 

Ricardo coughed, gasping for breath as he raised his head. “The... the Siren’s rock. A stone formation… the wind makes it sing.”

He swallowed hard, his sore jaw and throat making him wince. “There will be more clues. More riddles. Captain Crane would send all those,” he coughed again, “Who’s be Windmasters to a merry chase. To prove their worth”

He looked LeBihan in the eye. “I can lead you to the Siren’s rock and beyond.”

 

"Lead me there?" LeBihan took a moment to think on it, "Why in hell would I want to do that." LeBihan smirked at Ricardo, "I have everything I need to make me an extremely rich man until the day I die. I have the crew of the Pale Horse, the Pale Horse herself and it's quartermaster." LeBihan knelt by the fallen spaniard, "I haven't decided whether to kill the crew, or hand them over to my benefactor." LeBihan paused,

"He didn't make that part specific, but I do know that I'll keep you here, keep you alive and keep you in pain for a very long time." LeBihan stood, "I only have one problem... and that is that I'm missing some of the crew. I need those missing in order to get the most out of my pay and I'll get them - kill them, and hand their heads to my employer."

 

LeBihan’s words sent a wave of terror through Ricardo. Visions of Alexa’s lifeless body floated before his eyes as he bit back a whimper.

“You’re right,” he whispered, his eyes flashing. “You have the quartermaster. But you do not have the captain… yet.”

Feverently, he prayed that leBihan would take the bait.

 

"No, not yet." LeBihan said, "But he will be and I don't need the help of a pathetic, spanish, bilge dog to help me. When I catch him, I'll make you eat what's left of him." LeBihan turned away, "Tie him up in the bilge."


Abbot followed everyone up into the tavern. The hatch had led up behind the bar, but half of that had been ripped down by the various looters. The tavern was far from abandoned though. Drunkards and Red Hands fought with soldiers and with each other. Ale, wine and blood was strewn across the floor along with rubble and bodies. "Out the door!" Abbot bellowed, but everyone was thinking the same thing anyway as they hurtled toward the splintered doorway.

Abbot followed closely behind, finding himself on the docks. He whipped his head around as he looked for where they had weighed anchor. He straightened as he saw his ship sailing into the distance. Swiftly, he looked for an alternative way to get out.

"The Devastation!" He shouted, "We take the Devastation!"

 

Zheng was one of the last to make it to the stairs that lead to the tavern and the first to see the young native leading the Red Hands into the light. He'd seen Abbot speaking with - threatening rather - this young man. He'd heard the argument and Zheng knew that Abbot would have reckoned this man to be a spy.

The fact that he was leading the Red Hands straight to them meant Abbot's suspicion was confirmed. This man had to be a Red Hand.

Zheng had no more time to think on the matter as he was forced to climb the stairs and escape.

 

"The Devastation? I don't know any ship named Deva- oh, you mean the Matilda, don't you? Of course, she was re-christened when she was commissioned as a Navy vessel, I'd forgotten. I don't think it's terribly wise, old chap, to think you can just 'take' a ship of the fleet. Surely..." Leftenant Cornwallis looked like he had more to say but,seeing Abbot's expression, he wisely shut up. "I'm assigned to the Matilda, sir, perhaps I can be of assistance in...'taking' her."

It took a few minutes for him to prepare the group to his liking, especially with Abbot grumbling against "this damnfool nonsense playacting", but finally the group of bedraggled former partygoers was herded up the gangplank of the H.M.S. Matilda. Despite herself, Matty had to admit that the young officer did a good job of convincing the skeleton crew that they were required to let the rag-tag group aboard, and that he'd be perfectly capable of manning the helm while they found places for them all to be out of the way. Fortunately most of the sailors were too drunk to argue with a man whose uniform bore so much gold braid, and those who weren't were sent on errands below decks.

Leftenant Cornwallis preferred not to think about the implications for his career as he turned the helm over to Captain Abbot.

 

Valerie let herself be herded up the gangplank, thinking that it might perhaps be time to make her move. Most of the money betted at the party's poker tables lay inside her bodice, flush against her breastbone, and her rapier was strapped against one thigh under her voluminous skirts. While the helpless crowd inside the cave had screamed or shivered, depending on their temperament, she had been pinning her hopes on the thought that Solomon would finally put together the pieces of Ayer's puzzle.

Couldn't give me any more to start on, could you, mother? A title to fill, and a legacy to follow; only I can't chase it alone, and the only thing you knew was who had the key....

Yes, she remembered that, five years ago, the words forced out in a cracked whisper, before the wasting disease had left her mother too ill to even speak: "Last I knew...man named Solomon...found the key. Obsessed with it...but likely still looking for the lock."

Judging by the old canonier's excitement, they had taken the first step onto the path of the Wavemaster; it was close enough to what she needed. Now, judging by what she knew of greed and curiosity, they would try to solve the mystery - and, if she was to come along instead of being unceremoniously dumped out at the nearest port, it behooved her to make herself of use.

What can I offer...?

Of course. They were on a Navy ship, in port for resupplying; however, nothing had actually been brought on board, and they could not embark on the long voyage ahead without provisions. They also had two Red Hand ships on their trail. Blind Berrik was somewhat incompetent, but leBihan was far from a fool. Even if they managed to get sufficiently far ahead of their pursuit to dock at another port, they'd have at best one afternoon to restock. It was possible, but it would require a great deal of money...

That was something she had. It wasn't exactly honestly come by, but it fit her definition of fairness; she owed it to an ace of each suit up her sleeves and her own photographic memory, combined with the fact that when she mentioned hearing a rumor that La Reine d'Acier was in port, men's hands trembled enough for her to get a glimpse of their cards.... She hadn't needed to resort to any cruder methods tonight, and when she giggled in bewilderment and acted the naive coquette, none of the overdressed fools had thought to question her extraordinary "luck". Yes, she had something to offer....

Valerie Damien smiled.

 

Alexa looked over the deck of the ship that had once been called Devestaion. The ship that once chased the Marauder.

She froze in realization. She had left some explosives already prepared in her surgery on the Pale Horse. leBihan's men could find them, and possibly destroy the ship.

Turning, she gathered her now ruined skirts close to her and ran over to Abbot, accidentally bumping into a young woman who looked like she had attended the ball. She gasped out a quick apology and headed for the Captain, noticing Matty beside him.

"Captain, I left some explosive in the surgery, already prepared. They're some of my most powerful explosives! If leBihan's men find them, they could destroy either the Pale Horse or this one."

 

"No! You can't let that happen, Captain! My pipes are there, and...and Da's fiddle." The fiddle that had cost her her secret and almost so much more - it couldn't be destroyed before she ever had a chance to play it. "We've got to get that ship back." Matty had moved unconsciously to the rail and seemed to be ready to dive into the churning waters below.

 

Valerie winced at the other women's outcries, and approached them and the captain. "That's most unfortunate. Why would they comandeer the ship only to destroy it, though? If I were you, I'd be more worried about whatever sensitive documents you may have left on there. As for blowing up the Matilda...they'd have to get the explosives on board first, and that would take some effort. I assume you need to make land somewhere and provision the ship, however other matters fall out? If we make a good headwind, we would have a few hours to do so...I'd say it's a fair assumption the Red Hand wants something from you, to oppose you so vehemently. The only issue is that procuring supplies in such a limited amount of time would be terribly costly - but I believe that in that respect, we could help each other.... And perhaps, in time, regain the Pale Horse."

 

Matty eyed the stranger suspiciously. "Why would they want to blow up the Matilda? We're only just underway, and they've no reason to think that the Captain is anywhere other than up at the mansion, lying in a pool of his own blood with Mister Santiago's sword through his heart. Right now our best advantage is that they have no idea that we're following them. Seems to me that stopping for provisions also gives them several hours' head start on the chase."

 

Alexa nodded at Matty's words. "She speaks the truth. They likely believe that we are surrounding the Captain's body, trying to figure out what our next move is."

She looked around the people still milling on deck. "Speaking of Mister Santiago, do you know where he is?"

Alexa glanced back at the stranger, eyes narrowed. "And just why is it that you are so eager to go against the Red Hand? They are not a group to oppose lightly."

 

Valerie shrugged. "I'll bet my boots you have a journey ahead of you either way. You have that look about you...and a wise freelancer is always after opportunity. Thus, it would definitely be to your advantage to be fully prepared for any eventuality.

"Honestly, though..." she smirked at them. "I hate to ruin the happy mood, but you are trying to figure out what your next move is. You have things on your ship that you value, besides the ship itself; I can understand that. But rushing in at this point is quite close to suicidal; you have wounded, and only whatever arms and ammunition you had with you or are on the ship. You don't just want to try to regain the Pale Horse, you want to succeed.

"I won't insult you by treating you like fools; obviously I have ulterior motives - our professions are the same. What I can give you my word on is that I intend no harm to this company; in fact, what I desire is to join you, because I'm looking for some things that are best not sought alone.

"I can pull my weight, though. For a start, I have extracted enough funds from the fools at the Governor's gambling tables to pay for much, if not all, the provisioning; and for another, I have a certain skill with a blade. I have nothing to lose by acting against the Red Hand - and I can give you some proof of my ability, as well... I'm the 'bloody wench' that supplied Blind Berrik with his claim to fame."

 

"If you think we're low on arms and ammunition, Madam, you forget that you're on a navy vessel," Cornwallis inserted mildly. "Such things are our stock and trade."

 

She laughed. "I'm aware of that, which is why I'm sure you're not defenseless; but when a ship comes to port, that's often because it's run out. We're talking about a freelancer ship - that means all your weapons are on there - full of the Red Hand's brutes. They won't hesitate to throw anything they have at you - possibly including taking you down with them using the lady's explosives if things don't go their way," she nodded at Alexa. "And I'm sure the Matilda's time on the water made some sort of dent in its supplies. What are you going to do if you run out - give them another rousing chorus of forks?"

 

Someone was knocking on the front door of Daniel's awareness, but he was having such a nice sleep that he tried to ignore the uninvited visitor. Yet the knocking persisted, getting louder and louder, until it was bashing down the door, and came in yelling and screaming into the parlor of his body. It was PAIN!

"You thought you'd gotten rid of me, sticking me in the back room, didn't you?" PAIN asked him.

"I, I thought you'd stay there. I locked the door, how did you get out?" Daniel asked this strange red beast that was now ripping up his mom's nice rug.

"I jumped out the window and went around to the front door. What else would a good dog do?" The beast jumped on Daniel and started to gnaw into his chest, and Daniel learned that there was PAIN, and then there was !!!!PAIN!!!!

"Aaaaaah!" he screamed as he pulled the beast off his chest. Something hit him in the forehead, and he opened his eyes to find himself in a small bed in a small quarters on a boat, but not the Pale Horse. He'd hit his head on the board just above the bed, and his hands were full of the bandages he'd been ripping off his chest.

He panicked for a moment, but when he saw that he had not disturbed the work his mom had done, and his chest wall was still effectively patched, he calmed down again and did his best to put the bandages back in order. He wasn't bleeding anymore, and he could breathe, but that did nothing about the PAIN.

He stuck some sheets in his mouth and bit on them as the tears flowed down his face. Why wouldn't it go away. What could he do?

The powder that the doctor had given him! He took the packet out of his pocket and carefully opened it. He didn't have any wine to mix it with, but it all ended up in the same place, didn't it? He poured the white powder into his mouth and let it dissolve into his tongue and cheeks. It had a strange, exotic taste to it.

The analytic side of his mind stepped away from the side that was suffering and said, "Let's take this moment to find out how long laudanum needs to effectively remove pain. We'll count in sets of one hundred until he can at least bear the pain without need to cry out in agony. One, two, three, four..."

When the analytic side of his mind got to three-hundred and fifty-eight, the no longer suffering side told it to go jump in the sea, and turn out the light as it left. A snake sat on the wall and sang a lullaby about the masters of the waves and mermaids luring sailors to their deaths, which Daniel found strangely pleasant as he drifted off to a pain-free sleep.

 

Alistair strolled through the lower parts of the ship, bored. If there's one thing about staying in disguise, it's that he couldn't smoke.

This thought made him edgy. He strolled automaticaly towards the crew's quarters, and was greeted by loud boasting as he entered. Three Red Hands were there, open a pile of inventory in the centre of the room, no doubt the collections of his ship-mates.

Which is another thing he didn't understand. Why did these pirates leave their personal and prized belongings on the ship - with other such scums of the earth as...well, other pirates? It was ridiculous. Curious, he graviated towards the pile. The three of them seemed to be throwing unwanted things into another pile, while keeping whatever they liked, and chucking the not-so-good things into another pile, no doubt for the captain.

"Wha's this?" one of them said, picking out something wooden. Alistair leaned forward to see. It seemed to be a fiddle. Matty's fiddle. It seemed quite important to that...boy.
"Who knows."
"It's a fiddle! Looks t' be a pretty good one too. Here, I'll have it. I knows how to play them."
"Can I have it?" Alistair said quietly. The three of them turned around.
"'ere, who the bloody hell are you?"

Alistair thought about this for a second. He put a cigar in his mouth and lit it.
"Hey, no smoking in cabins!"
"Yeah, well...if I don't smoke, my body aches all the time. Sorry. HEY! YOU!" he pointed dramatically behind them. The three of them turned around in unison.

Then one of them felt something cold to his head. Alistair fired before he could react, and immediately followed with a blast from Red Charlotte to the other. Both men fell immediately without so much as a grunt. The third, however, lunged at Alistair with his sword. Taken by surprise, the bounty hunter fell to the ground, the pirate on top, trying to stab down with all his strength.

The man was inches from his face. Alistair could smell his horrid breath, which smelt disguistingly ale-like. But the pirate was forgetting something. Alistair still had the cigar in his mouth.

He spat it out. It hit the pirate in the eye, and he screamed and rolled off. Alistair swore, lifted his feet, and brought his heel into the pirate's mouth ruthlessly, with a satisfying crunch.
"Shut up." he mumbled. "Can't have everyone hearing me now."

The pirate groaned and mumbled. Alistair twisted his foot. More crunches. Soon, the man faltered and fell unconcious, and Alistair took the chance to end his life with a slash. Just to be on the safe side, he went and stabbed the other two me numerous times in vital areas, before picking up the fiddle and tucking it away back into the case.

"Ten now, I suppose." he mused, as he moved the pile of things into a corner. "The odds just got a bit better..."

Smiling, he popped another cigar in his mouth and lit it.

[ October 06, 2005, 14:00: Message edited by: Deathmage ]

 

Standing before the three women, Abbot could feel his anger building. The newcomer, seemingly a noble, obviously felt high of herself. She hadn't even told him her name and she was trying to tell him that he had to anchor the ship and resupply. She had to learn that she held no position on this ship. "I'm not stopping to have this ship supplied - we have food and ammunition enough for a time, but I have no intentions whatsoever to damage my own ship. I'm going to take my sword and ram it through LeBihan's heart in person, then, I'll kill any bastard that tries to get in my way."

He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly in his grasp then, imagining it was LeBihan's throat, "And I don't care for being ordered around by a slip of a girl who's fool enough to come up to me and decides she want's to run this ship. Now get out of my sight before I throw you into the water with nothing but that pathetic blade you carry to keep you afloat." Abbot turned to Alexa, "Thank you for the warning. Right now, we need to catch up to the Red Hands. We'll worry about the explosives when the tie comes."

 

Val shrugged. "I'm not ordering you to do anything. I was trying to earn my place by offering a form help I thought you might immediately need, and I am capable of providing. As for my blade..." she laughed. "Now's not the time to offer you a demonstration, don't you think? But any time you should want one, ask for it. Now, I'm on this ship along with the other survivors, at least till you let them off in safety - unless you're planning to throw them into the water along with me. I am well aware that I am an outsider here, hence my offer; so if there's anything I can do to earn my place here up until that time, I am willing. I'm not afraid of work, if that's what you're thinking. If not...I'll make my way to where I need to be, somehow."