Pirates Return IC

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Saimon kept tripping over his own feet, and each time the ale-smelling giant of a Red Hand would grab his neck and force him back up on his feet. The world began to spin, and he felt as if it was a hallucinatory experience induced by a psychedelic drug of some such. The pain it was near unbearable! “(The star, the star! So fare it is; yet so fragile. My Eliistraê, how will we get ourself out of this?)”, Saimon mumbled to himself... “(Th-the world as we know it is no more, it is cursed, I know this... See them! The colours... Oh how they fills the emptiness, the within)”.
“What did you say? Where have you friends gone? You better answer me, boy!”, but Saimon was beyond being able to answer, the pain had overwhelmed him and he silently fell into a comatose-like state...
When he woke he was in a cell of sorts, but had no idea how he'd gotten there, or even where he was.
The arm didn't hurt any more, actually it was almost like he couldn't feel it at all.
“Where are we?”...

 

Matty wandered about the Matilda, vaguely disturbed by several things. There wasn't really anything for her to do at the moment, which was fine in one regard because she was physically hampered by the long dress. It was still pretty, even if it now bore several stains and tears that she was sure the dressmaker had never anticipated. She giggled at the idea of scrambling up to the crows'-nest in petticoats.

But being at odd's-ends was bad because it gave her time to think. It was quite odd to be on a ship that had the same name as she did, especially since she was hearing people use that name towards her for the first time in years. Was the universe trying to tell her something, that she could leave her past behind and step into a new life as "Matilda," even as this ship had done?

The problem there was that she wasn't quite done with her past. She had to, WANTED to, retrieve the things Da had left for her. They were still her path to the future, even if that path had just taken an unexpected turn. Now all she had to do was get back those worldly possessions, those few things she really cared about, those precious items that were sailing away on the Pale Horse.

 

Val strolled across the Matilda's deck, trying very hard to keep her temper under control. If this was how the captain treated an offer for help that was well-meant, if not without strings attached, then it was no wonder he had enemies.

Maybe it wasn't an entirely unreasonable reaction, her brain told her. She snarled at it. He's not a nobleman you're trying to seduce or win money off of, you know that... reason continued, implacable. A man like that may equate fancy words with orders....

This wasn't helping. This really wasn't helping.

She spied a lone figure at the railing. It was the girl Matty, who looked particularly bedraggled at this moment, but from whom she had nevertheless sensed a keen intelligence and a driving sense of purpose. Perhaps if she came to understand what made this one so determined, she might have a better idea how the company as a whole worked...?

She leaned against the railing next to the girl. "I'm a stranger here, so I don't think I understand...why does the Pale Horse mean so much to this company?"

[ October 07, 2005, 17:10: Message edited by: Tiamat ]

 

For someone who acts like she runs the world, this gal don't know much about pirates! Matty bit back a sharp retort but kept her answer brief.

"A pi- freelancer has no home but his ship, and no family but his crewmates. You should know that. We can't just sit back and watch the Pale Horse be taken without so much as lifting a finger to stop it." She didn't bother to mention how Three Swords' fierce loyalty to his men was what caused them to be loyal to him in turn. If this woman stuck around long enough, she'd figure that out on her own. Likely the hard way, unless...

"You might get on better around here if you listen more and talk less. Captain Abbot is a man of action, not one for pretty speeches. Don't tell him that you can be useful, show him - then he'll be more ready to accept your offer to help, and your ideas, Miss - "

Matty suddenly realized that, for all her talk, the stranger had neglected to give her name. No wonder she'd put the Captain's back up.

 

"Valerie Damien. I've been a freelancer myself for a few year snow, but mostly I've been traveling alone, and I've certainly never run into a crew or captain quite like this one. To be honest, I thought I had to speak - considering the circumstances under which I came on board, if I didn't speak up, nobody would think I was more than well-dressed baggage." She smiled ruefully. "To top it all off, all my real clothes are back on dry land, and have probably burned to cinders by now." She paused. "I've heard you being called both 'Matty' and 'Matilda'. Which do you prefer?"

 

"I haven't decided yet. I guess it's going to depend on who's doing the calling, and why." SHe looked out over the water at the Pale Horse for a moment before turning back to Valerie. "Should I bother asking about your 'ulterior motives'? Why is it you're so eager to join this particular crew?"

 

Inwardly, she winced, Blunt.... "I have reason to believe you're going after Ayer's treasure. It might lead me to a legacy my mother left me. I'm sorry, but I really shouldn't tell you more right now; I can assure you it's nothing against the company's interests though."

 

Matty's eyes narrowed and her lips compressed at the idea that Valerie had been sneaking behind them in the tunnel and eavesdropping on what they had thought was a private conversation. "The Captain knows naught about that yet, and I have no idea what he'll say when we tell him. Ending this business with the Red Hand comes first. And on top of that, I have my own 'interests' for being with this crew. I hope Ayer's treasure doesn't get in the way, because I know which one is more important to me."

 

Daniel was sleeping peacefully on his beach. A warm presence was resting against his chest. He opened his eyes and saw the beast PAIN snuggled up against him, exerting a constant pressure against his left lung. But it was less beastly now, more like a scruffy dog that finally went to sleep. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was kind of reassuring, knowing that PAIN was there with him, and he was still alive.

Then a small black monkey in a two-cornered hat walked up to them with a sharp stick.

"Who are you?" Daniel asked the monkey.

"I'm Captain Jack, and I'm here to play with you." The monkey replied as it started to poke PAIN with the sharp stick.

"Don't do that!" Daniel cried. "Do you want to wake it up and get it all mad again?"

"Yes, I do, that's what I call fun!" The monkey gleefully said as it rammed the stick into PAIN's hind end.

"Ooooooow!" PAIN whined, waking up furiously. Captain Jack took off his hat and pulled a huge steak out of it, then tossed the steak on Daniel's chest.

"Here doggy, have some breakfast," Captain Jack said as the steak melted into Daniel's flesh. PAIN lept at Daniel and started chewing into his side.

"Aaaaah!" Daniel yelled, waking up in the small bed in the small quarters, covered in sweat. His lung was burning. Was that a good sign or a bad sign. He reached into his pocket for the doctor's medecine, only to see the scrap of paper it had been in lying on the floor. He picked up the paper and licked the faint traces of powder off of it.

PAIN kept gnawing on his side.

This ship, whatever it was, had to have a surgery. The surgery had to have some medecine. Daniel had to do something about the unbearable PAIN.

He struggled out of bed and staggered out of the cabin. He was on the deck of a ship. Through blurry vision he could see two women talking near the railing. Was that Matty? It had to be in that green dress. He took three lurching steps towards them.

"Matty, help me..." he gasped as he fell, grabbing at the other woman to keep from crashing his head on the deck.

 

"Daniel? What's happeneing? You shouldn't be up, you-" Matty looked around the deck desperately, but Alexa was no where to be seen and Leftenant Cornwallis was busy keeping his sailors from getting too curious and interfering with the Captain, who was trying to approach leBihan's ships as stealthily as the big vessel would allow. Daniel was obviously in extreme pain, but at least he wasn't bleeding.

"You want to prove your usefulness, here's how to start," she snapped at Valerie. "Stay here with him and keep him from harming himself while I go find something to ease his pain." Or his mother, better yet, she thought.

Matty scampered below, looking for the galley. She wouldn't know the difference between all those powders in the surgery, but Da had always saiud that nothing could dull pain like a healthy dose of rum.

 

Val took a good look at the boy and began to swear. She gently took him by the arm and led him to the nearest bench. "You really should lie down. I know you probably feel...well, like somebody's bitten a chunk out of your side and then rubbed salt in it, or something, but I promise you, it will be better soon. Your friend Matty went to get you something for the pain, and then it's not going to hurt so much."

She grabbed the boy's hand, which was moving to tear at the bandages around his side. "Nuh-uh, you don't want to be doing it, I'm sure they're not exactly comfortable, but they'll make it b etter in the long run," she continued as soothingly as she could.

In fact, she felt more than a little bewildered. She wasn't good with children, she had never had much reason or opportunity to spend time with them, and didn't remember much of her childhood either. But it couldn't be that different from Melisande Damien, lying on that bed, worn to bare bones by the illness, sweat beading on her skin....

She pushed the boy's hair back from his forehead and continued to hold his hands away from his side as gently as she could, murmuring the most soothing encouragement her dazed mind could come up with. She had expected this company to be a means to her end, but they were turning out to be real people, with needs and desires of her own - which in its own way was confusing, because she had never associated with any one person long enough to get close to them.

"It will be better soon, I promise..." she repeated helplessly, and hoped somebody would arrive with aid soon. This boy couldn't die, not like her mother did, she wouldn't let him....

 

Matty returned with the rum, her brief trip to the galley convincing her that the company of pirates was infinitely preferable to that of sailors, and that 'Matilda' was likely to be stashed away with the remains of the green dress at the first opportunity. She brought up short at the sight of Valerie tending to Daniel. Apparently there was more to this woman than the arrogant face she'd shown earlier.

Between the two of them they got enough of the rum into Daniel to keep him from resisting when they poured him back into the first bunk they found. Matty was impressed with how Valerie tied the boy's hands - not too tight to be restrictive, but tight enough to keep him from reaching the bandages on his chest.

"Either Alexa will kill me for getting him so drunk, or Daniel will do it himself when he gets over the hangover," Matty commented as the two women returned to the deck. "I'm glad my Da never..." Her voiced trailed away when she suddenly thought of how vulnerable she'd be. Drunkeness did strange things to men, and now that she was bereft of her disguise among her crewmates she'd have to count on their fellowship to protect her against their grog-soaked advances. It wasn't likely to be enough.

 

"Nobody's going to kill you," Val replied, "Although if Alexa is the boy's mother, then I'd say it's definitely wise to be afraid of a mother with her protective instincts aroused. I can't exactly claim I've never been drunk, but while it's admittedly not such a good situation for a young boy to be in, it was the best solution we had available, and it was clever of you to come up with it in the middle of all this chaos."

 

"Thanks for the compliment - and the offer, even though it was just a figure of speech. Daniel wouldn't really hurt me, he's my brother, except for us having different parents. And Alexa..., well, I think she'd rather her son be drunk because I gave him run than dead because I gave him something else. Anyway, sometimes it's easy to stay alive when the thought of dying isn't what bothers you."

[ October 09, 2005, 11:29: Message edited by: Rallymama ]

 

"Hell... well, close enough." A Red Hand said to the young native as he mopped **** out of a bucket onto the floor of the cell. "You're on the sloop, Infante. We're headed for Captain LeBihan. We have orders to kill all of the Pale Horses crew, but the captain likes something to play with on the long voyages. That something is you. Enjoy the rest of the trip." The Red Hand said with a smirk as he turned away and headed for the stairs.


Three Swords scratched at the hole underneath his eyepatch. He was tired, angry and an underlying feeling that he was fighting against a captain who was more experienced and far more skilled than himself. He tried to push the thoughts away, but theey still lingered. Abbot was not a man who usually even contemplated the idea of losing, but this was pushing his limits.

He settled himself on the bridge, a spyglass in his hand as he looked out at the three ships in the distance. The Red Hands had lost their other two ships when the gunnery had started to pick up. If LeBihan had not retreated, he might have lost all of the vessels. The Sloop, Infante, had left port mere moments before The Matilda was ready to go under way, their rowboats slipping by the cannon of Port Royal, but the ship was fast and had quickly outrun the Matilda and was gaining on LeBihan's ship.

Abbot thought about Santiago then. The man had to be dead - the governor and his wife with him. Abbot would miss the spaniard and his slightly devious ways.

"We're gaining on them," Abbot shouted, "Find weapons for anyone who still does not have any."

 

As the Red Hand spoke, Saimon slowly began to realise the danger of the situation he had put himself in. “Stupid, stupid, STUPID!”, he thought, “why couldn't I just have stayed with the rest?”.

“Who's LeBehian?”, Saimon asked the Red Hand. “Who's LeBehian!?! What a dumb question, you know damn well who the hell LeBehian is, he be ye' worst nightmare, little brad.”, the man rudely replied, “and mark my words you be nay up for any pleasure trip, you will be chained, kicked, ordered around, and kicked some more like the blasted dog that ye' are! *hrmpf* Now shut ye' gab or I'll make ya!”.

Saimon realized that he'd better treat these men with care if he wanted to get out of this with his life. Yet what to do? He couldn't just sit idle by, while these ruffians stampeded upon him. And who knew when, if ever, he would get the chance to escape when they had first joined up with the main ship? He'd probably be locked up at night, and set to do supervised tasks at daytime.. The more he learned about these Red Hands the more likeable he found Three Sword to be, though he would never dream of admitting that, not even to himself.

“Ship in sight”, he heard someone yell from the deck above of him, “It's the Pale Horse”.

“The Pale Horse? But, wasn't that the name of the ship that Aboot and the others sailed with?” However he hadn't heard any orders to board the ship, which had to mean that the Red Hands were the ones in control of the Pale Horse now...

Saimon tried to swallow, but found his throat to be dry and spittless.
The situation was getting desperate.

 

Valerie smiled. "Having a family must be nice. I don't have a brother - well, I didn't have anybody but my mother, and she's dead. I know what you mean about fearing some things more than dying though...like losing the things that make life worth living. Or the things you're living for, whether they're worth it or not. Whatever you're looking for, I hope you find it -" she broke off as the ship rocked.

"I think we must be getting nearby. Somebody should go look, but I think somebody should also stay with Daniel. Are you any good with a weapon? This crew is going to need all the fighters it can get, even if they haven't exactly made the best impression...like me," she smiled ruefully.

 

"There's more ways to be useful in battle than by swinging a sw3ord or waving a gun," Matty said grimly, remembering her first kill. It was only a short while ago, but so much had happened since... "I think Daniel will be alright here by himself. He was alone before, and now there's enough rum in his belly to keep him from doing much more than sopiling the deck."

 

Valerie smirked. "Hey, if we get through this in one piece, I'll even clean it!" She pulled at her burgundy skirt and the material detached in a neat pool, revealing a pair of breeches and a rapier strapped to one thigh. "Whaaaaat," she grinned at Matty's expression. "I've had to make more than one hasty exit when the rich fat man of the day complained about how much money I was winning in poker!" she added, moving through the door. Fresh, salty air hit her nose with a blast when the two emerged abovedecks into a hub of bustling activity.

 

Alexa headed for the cabin Corwallis had pointed her to, hoping that Daniel was doing better. Pushing open the door, she saw her son on the bunk, arms bound in such a way that he couldn't disturb the bandages.

Her eyes swept the room, noticing the burgandy skirt and the green ribbons binding Daniel's arms. She smiled slightly, recognizing the ribbons, and sat on the side of the bunk, examining her son.

As she leaned over Daniel, a powerful smell of rum came from him, and she frowned.

Her bellow echoed over the ship. "MATTY! Get here, NOW!"