Pirates Return IC

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He hesitated for a moment. It had been a long, long time since he’d signed a ship’s articles… but Ricardo knew that there was not much else he could do. “Agreed, Captain. I will meet you in the morning.”

He made a stiff bow, and was about to take his leave, when he hesitated for a moment. “Captain… is there room for one more player?”

 

"A fellow gambler?" He nodded, "I don't believe the others will object." Throwing a hard look at each of them.

"As long as you stop interrupting our game with your business deals." the dealer said, grumbling under his breath. "All cards in, new hand for a new player." He smiled "The coin stays in the hole for the next hand."

Abbot slid his cards to the dealer and uncocked his pistol, but he left it lying on top of his lap in case any trouble arose.

 

As usual, Matty hadn't left the ship with the others, he waited until the dock was empty enough that he would look like one of the wharf-rats istead of being associated with the Pale Horse's crew. No one noticed vermin, after all, and there was no better way to learn things that people didn't want others to know than to go about without being seen.

 

As he entered the Rotten Kelp the smell of alcohol and the regulars engulfed his flared nostrils and he moved towards the bar. Halfway there he spotted the man who caught him earlier and he turned towards him. He adjusted his sash slighty and walked proudly towards the long haired man. Hui spotted several others closeby all vying for the man's attention.

As Zheng almost reached the table he threw down a few coins in front of Abbot, "I beleive these are yours..."

 

Daniel's shoulder still smarted from the dark skinned man's grip. Blast it, he hadn't needed to squeeze so hard, it wasn't like Daniel had tried to pick his pocket, he was just in a hurry.

A pirate ship seeking a crew! Here was his chance to have his own adventures, just like his mom and step-father. Would mom let him join up, or would he have to stow-away to get on board? Should he even dare to ask mom, or should he try to get on with a different crew after she left. But if he did that, there was the possibility of facing her in battle on the open sea. That didn't sound very good.

He had reached the docks and their stinky taverns. He ran into them and started to spread the word.

 

Three Swords, stared hard at the coins on the table before he swept them up into his hand. With his other he grabbed the shorter man by his waistcoat and hauled him in close. "Listen here you thieving, little, scumbellied, whoreson, pig, if you dare to steal off me one more time I'm going to take an oar and ram it so far up your arse, you'll choke. Understand me?" He pushed Zheng away and glanced at his cards. "Now what was it you wanted to see me about?"

 

After putting the word out in all the taverns, Daniel swung by the docks to get a closer look at the Pale Horse. It was a magnificient looking ship, and it made his decision to stowaway on it a foregone conclusion.

He saw a boy, not much bigger or older looking than himself, come down the gangplank. The boy headed off towards the taverns. Daniel followed him. After a few streets the boy turned around and said, "Why are you following me?"

"I want to join the Pale Horse, but my mom's going to be the surgeon on it, and she wouldn't let me join. Can you help me sneak on? My name's Daniel." Maybe that wasn't such a good way to go about it, Daniel thought, but it was too late now.

 

Zheng adjusted his waistcoat and his slanted eyes looked at Abbot once more.

"I've heard you need a crew and I can sail. I am also able to fight if it is required of me." Zheng stood hands by his side waiting for a reply. "Sir." He added without a trace of mockery in his voice.

 

Matty was about to respond with a reflexive retort about apron strings when he realized just how far he'd go to stay near his Da, if not for the unbridgeable chasm of Death that separated them. He looked harder at Daniel... not soft even if he was well-acquainted with soap, and already taller than Matty himself. Obviously not a sailor. Any protection he could provide from those of the crew who didn't respect the ship's piper wouldn't last long, but it would be better than nothing.

"Aye, I kin help ye. But tell me this, firs', kin ye sing?"

 

Three swords looked the man up and down, noticing how well balanced he was on his feet. An acrobat maybe? He had good hand eye co-ordination from what Abbot had seen from his sword play.

He'd be good for rigging the sail, he thought. "Very well. Come to the Pale Horse tomorrow morning, I presume you saw it in the harbour. You may sign the articles there." He added, "Now get lost so I can play cards."

Zheng nodded and stepped back.

 

Jacques took advantage of the brief distraction, uneventful though it turned out, to quickly make a small notch on the ace of diamonds he held in his hand. The dealer must have been using an old deck... it took him a while to find a space on the edge of the card that hadn't already been marked.

He decided that losing a little gold to the Captain would be a the best way to get in his good books, and hopefully secure him a post as navigator on this ship he was hearing so much about. Jacques cleared his throat.

"Captain Abbot? My name is Jacques Vendelin. I couldn't help overhearing that you were looking for crew members, and I haven't yet seen anyone turn up here who looks to be a decent navigator. I'd like to apply for the job."

 

Abbot looked across to Jacques, "A navigator would be more than helpful. A decent one would be even better." Abbot adjusted his eye patch a little as he summed Vendelin up. His gaunt, shallow features did not make him look particularly trustworthy, but he was well spoken.

He was no fighter, that much was obvious, his hands looked soft - those of an educated and intelligent man. A danger? He doubted it, but appearances could be deceiving. "You may be able to navigate, but what good will you be if you get killed in the first fight we get into. Do you even carry a weapon?"

 

With a great deal of care and ceremony, and to the general irritation of the other card players, who seem to have given up on the game and gone back to their drinks, Jacques delved into his coat and layed a trio of gleaming, finely crafted knives on the grimy tabletop.

"You don't make knives like this for as long as I have without learning a thing or two about using them," he said with a wry grin. "Not to mention simply growing up in a place like this... you can't stay out of trouble for long. I might not beat every man in this bar at sheer strength, but I'm quick. Jerry can attest to that." Jacques nodded to another card player across the table, who bore a deep scar from his left eye socket, down across to the right of his jaw. The man gave a sullen nod, and a grimace.

[ August 01, 2005, 19:27: Message edited by: Arifirh ]

 

Ricardo appeared like he was still concentrating on his cards, a rather bad hand, but in truth he was observing. The knives on the table were well-used, and it was obvious Jacques was not lying... Then again, he could have been in cahoots with the scarred man, lying in order to impress the captain.

After all, Ricardo had almost missed the man marking a card – this man seemed both quick and crafty.

 

"I love to sing! I know most of the shanties that the sailors sing, plus a lot of their raunchier ones, though mom usually cleans my mouth with soap when she hears me sing them. I also play the bones pretty well, Old Man Jackson taught me how." He took a pair of well worn sheep ribs from his back pocket and played a nice clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clickety clack clack clack.

"I've always wanted to go to sea. Black Toad has even taught me most of the knots." Daniel tried to put on a sincere but mature look on his young face.

 

Abbot nodded to indicate his appreciation of Jacques work, "Very fine weaponry." He said, tempted to test one of the blades, "And if you showed Jerry here a thing or two, then perhaps you are not as soft as I first thought you to be." He looked to the other card players, who had dismissed them utterly now and collected their share from the hole.

"Let us see how well you use those knives. Perhaps a throwing knife wager." Three Swords stood and walked across to the bar, taking one of the stools and turning it upside down and placing it next to an empty table by the wall. He pointed to the closest leg. "Hit it as close to the top as you can and then I will see if I can best you... in fact," His voice rose as he spoke "Is there anyone in here who thinks they can best Jacques?"

 

Zheng stood in Cujo's living room while he counted the money out and handed some to his drumer. The man was shorter than himself and scrawny but Zheng couldn't find a better drummer in Freetown willing to go along with his ways of making money.

"Same time next week? asked the drummer still clutching the small kettle drum under his hand and his earnings from the day in the other, which he pocketed.

Hui shook his head, "No, afraid not," the drummer looked at him in slight dismay. "I've found something worthwhile, hopefully I can achieve something in my life. We've had a good run Cujo. My thanks....friend." Zheng held out his hand and Cujo grasped it firmly. He had always liked the drummer but there was something about this Abbott charcacter which Zheng liked and he thought he would be foolish to turn this offer down.

 

"Alrigh' then, I'll help ye git aboord. Have ye kit ready an' keep ye eah t' the' groond. When ye heah tha' we be havin' a full crew, meet me back heah. When we be loadin' provisions befoah settin' oot, I'll get ye aboord and hid good."

Matty strode off without a backward glance at Daniel. He wouldn't forget his promise, but he had a more pressing matter on his mind. It had to still be there, it just had to be...

Freetown wasn't a city he went to often, but he knew this one path through the dingy streets and alleys. Before long the shop he sought loomed before him and he quickly scanned the window. It was gone!

Matty hurried inside. The shopkeeper was about to hustle him out again before she recognized the slip of paper in his hand. Still eyeing him with suspicion, she took a box down from a top shelf.

"Aye, we still have it. We don't get many minstrels here, so I put something of more interest in the window."

There is was - Da's harp. He'd scattered his instruments in several cities as they needed money for their travels, and he made Matty promise to get them back. Something about a legacy...

Matty sighed and handed the harp, its finish cracked and its strings loose, to the shopgirl. He wasn't even close to having enough money for it, the prize of the collection. Someday.

 

"Thanks!" Daniel called after the boy. He didn't even know his name. He went the other way, down to Old Man Jackson's shop. Old Man Jackson liked Daniel, he'd run lots of errands for him and once caught a boy who'd run off with a necklace, and then even more impressive, Daniel brought it back to the shop.

After some dealing, Daniel walked out of the shop with a pair of small pistols, bullet mold, extra flints, powder horn, a long dagger, and a broad leather belt with enough pouches to hold it all. He even had a little silver left from the money mom had given him to live on.

He snuck back home, going in the back door and up the ladder to the loft above the bar where he slept. He rolled his new stuff up in an old blanket and hid it in the rafters. Then he went back down to the main room of the tavern.

Captain Abbot was talking with some men about a knife throwing contest. He knew he couldn't approach Jacques' skill, but he piped up none-the-less.

"I'll join. I've got five coppers that say I can get at least within three fingers width of Jacques' knife."

He took his small knife out of its sheath.

 

Ricardo leaned back in his chair. “What’s the prize, Captain?” He called out. He had no doubt that of those present he was the most skilled with throwing blades.

Even if the prize would not be worth it, he reflected, it would be well to give the Captain proof of his skills.

"I will knock his knife out."

When he heard the boy who'd bumped into him speak out, he smirked. the more competitors, the better.