Wolfe presents...

Wolfe · Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 2:03 pm Post subject: Wolfe presents...

For the entertainment of one and all, Wolfe presents the start of her pirate novel. It's the very first draft and it isn't complete. If you want more, do feel free to ask!

All constructive input is greatly appreciated. I like fluffy praise, too Wink

Also, if you want actual good pirate/nautical reads, Wolfe recommends:

-The Castaways of the Flying Dutchman and its two sequels by Brian Jacques
-Pirates! The true and remarkable adventures of Minerva Sharpe and Nancy Kington, female pirates by Celia Rees
-Piratica: being a daring tale of a singular girl's adventure upon the high seas presented most handsomely by the notorious Tanith Lee
-Bloody Jack : being an account of the curious adventures of Mary "Jacky" Faber, Ship's Boy and its sequels, by L.A. Meyer
-The Pirate's Son by Geraldine McCaughrean

And, while I love vampires and pirates, and I loved the pirates and vampire pirates of Vampirates: Demons of the Ocean by Justin Somper, I really could have done without the main characters.

And, yes, these books are all either juvenile or young adult fiction. I have a great love of the books for those age groups Smile

Anyway, here begins my tale, under the working title "A Pirate Adventure"

"So, there he was, Kel, your grandpa, standin' alone, last one alive on a ship full of pirates, vilest men you ever did see," Oren told his daughter.

She squirmed beneath her sheets, sitting up with her forehead wrinkled in a most puzzled expression. "Put, Papa, all the men who help you in the orchards are pirates, aren't they? That's what the people in town always say."

"Were pirates, my dear," Oren said. "Just like your grandpa. They're the sort who never wanted to be pirates to begin with. It was that or death for them, though. They needed a second chance, just like he did when h came to this island, Port Acton."

"Oh," Kel said, accepting that. "So, Grand-Papa was on the ship..."

"Well, a'course his sword had broken in the fight, and he was out of shot for his pistol, as you recall," Oren continued. "So do you know what he did?"

Kel giggled. "Didn't he tip his hat and greet them a good day?"

"I've already told you this story, haven't I?" Oren realized. The man chuckled, ruffling his daughter's soft brown hair. "Then perhaps it's time for you to get some sleep, m'gel."

"No, Papa!" Kel objected, her lips instantly turning to a frown. Her eyes went big and watery, a sad expression that could wrench the heart of any loving father, and even some not-so-loving ones. "If you don't tell me my bedtime story, I'll never fall asleep, Papa! And I'll have terrible nightmares and the sea monsters will eat me and then you'll be sorry! Finish the story, please?"

"All right, all right," Oren relented. "He did, indeed, tip his hat and greet them, all smiles and play. An' when the pirate captain approached him, sword in hand, ready to slice him from neck to navel, why, he just tsk-ed and informed that ugly ol' brute that it was just bad form to kill a man who'd just wished him good day.

"This baffled the captain, took him aback, and he lowered his sword out of amusement. The two bantered a bit and the captain soon decided that it would, indeed, be bad form to kill a ship's navigator when his crew was sore in need of one. Navigators are rare among pirates."

"Navigators are special," Kel said. "I don't know how they can know all the stars and the sun and the islands and the coasts and be able to tell where in the world they are just from what's in the sky and on some paper. It's all so confusing!"

"Maybe when you're bigger I'll show you how, just like your Grand Papa showed me," Oren said. He smiled at the thought. There wasn't much of anything like spending a night beneath the stars, watching the constellations and the planets in their eternal dance. That was beauty. "Well, so Grand Papa's good nature spared his life for a day, and he found himself among pirates. Of course, those filthy men were more likely to slit the throat of a good Islinian gentleman as soon as give him the time o' day, but..."

"The story of how he came to be accepted on the crew is a story for another night," Kellsie said along with her father. She pouted. "Please, more?"

"It's late, dear daughter, and we all have work to do tomorrow. The rain fruit is ready to be harvested now, and you now that means a great deal of hard labor under the hot Torekian sun," Oren said. He stood from his daughter's bed and gave her the look that confirmed he was serious, and no amount of crying would change his mind. Well, maybe a certain amount, but he wouldn't stay long enough for his daughter to get there that night. She sighed and laid down, and he pulled her sheets up close around her.

"Good night, Papa," Kellsie said. "Do I get to help in the orchards tomorrow?"

"You're one of the best climbers I've got, Kel," Oren said. "You could race through the rigging of a brig with the best of them. Of course you can help, if your mother will allow it."

Kellsie pouted. "Mama will make me do dishes. Please, Papa, just tell her you need me?"

"I'll see what I can do, Kellsie," Oren said with a sigh. "Good night."

"Good dreams, and fair winds," Kellsie replied. She wriggled beneath the covers to get more comfortable and then closed her eyes tight.

Oren moved to the door and watched his daughter for a long moment, as her breathing slowed and steadied to an even rate. She was surely asleep, and judging from that small smile upon her lips, she was far from any nightmare.

"You shouldn't tell her such stories, Oren," Rowanne Orchard, Oren's wife, scolded. He turned to see her standing in the hall beside him.

"I take it you were listening," Oren assumed. He sighed. "But she loves them, Rowanne, and they won't do her any harm. Come, my flaxen-haired love, quit that scowling. It will ruin your soft skin."

"I don't want my daughter running off and sailing on the high seas," Rowanne stated. "It's not a proper place for a girl. And she's nearly twelve, Oren. She should be learning to cook and clean like a proper girl, not playing with pirates."

"You trust my judgement when I save them from the hangman's noose, don't you?" Oren asked Rowanne. Together they started down the hall, away from their dozing daughter. If their argument got any louder, it would surely wake her, and that would do no one any good whatsoever.

"I do, Mister Orchard, I do," Rowanne said. "But that doesn't mean I want my daughter falling in love with one of the handsome rogues."

"They don't look at my daughter that way, and she hasn't yet taken interest in boys," Oren said. "Don't you fret. She'll marry a good man if I have any say in it, which I do, being her father."

"All your stories, letting her play with those pirates, it's giving her a wild streak a furlong wide," Rowanne said. "She stays inside and works with me, tending for this house and running errands from now on. That's final, Mister Orchard."

Oren shook his head. "She won't like it."

"No, she won't, but that's how it is going to be," Rowanne stated. "Now, to sleep with us. It will be a long, hard day tomorrow."

That night, Kellsie dreamed she was beside her Grand Papa Oren among all those pirates. She sailed on the oceans of dreams, propelled by the winds of wishes and hopes. She knew what the stars in the sky meant, and how the roll of the sea and the deck meant fair weather or storms.

And while she was sailing in her dreams, a true pirate crew was standing on a sandy shore.

A mere lad stood facing the captain, sword in hand. He was hardly more than fifteen, but he had death in his eyes.

"Vincent, you've been on this crew for, what, three years now?" the captain asked. "You know my skill, and you know I could kill you with ease."

"I won't make it easy, sir," Vincent Hart stated. "When your crew gave you the warning signs of mutiny and you challenged anyone to rise and take your place if they could win in a fair sword fight, I took your challenge. Here we are, on solid land. You've treated these men like dogs when they've served you well. If it takes the foolishness of a boy to stand up to you, well, so be it. I'll die on this shore before I get back on your ship, though."

The twenty-man crew standing on the shore around the lad and the fierce bearded captain was grim, saying no word. True, they did not like how the captain had been running the ship of late, and, true, Little Vin had proven himself in his years on board the ship, a boy wise beyond his years, skilled, swift, and lean, a quick learner to be sure, and bold as his flame red hair. Not a one of them wanted to see this boy dead, but they wouldn't interrupt a fair duel. It was against their code.

Vincent tested his blade quickly, twitch of the wrist. He knew its balance fairly well, but his heart was pounding in his ears. The captain had been fighting and slaughtering men when Vin's dear mother had been a mere lass. He wasn't sure he could really do this, but he knew he had to try.

The captain, filthy grey hair loose around his face, opened his mouth in a terrible snarl, lifted his blade, and charged at the tall lad. Vincent judged the angle of the captain's sword and parried with his best skill, trying to hold strong in defense against all the captain's weight. He managed to spin to the side and pull his blade back without getting a cut, but the captain didn't lose his balance. He brought his blade up in a flick and caught Vincent's arm. First blood.

No one cheered, and no one booed. They just continued to watch in their silence as Vincent and the captain went at it, swords clashing, feet shifting. The captain dropped and flung a fistful of sand at Vincent's face, but the boy managed to shield his eyes with his empty hand. In that moment, the captain struck another blow, slicing at Vincent's side. Vincent howled at the pain of it, but stayed on his feet.

"Come on, lad, you're a good hand," the captain said. "I'll call this off, let the ships surgeon patch you up, if you'll agree to it."

"No!" Vincent shouted. He brought his sword up in ready position gain, and they went at it once more.

The world seemed to slow for Vincent, and everything fell silent except for the crashing of the waves. He had to do this. He had to. When the captain next raised his sword, Vincent saw his opening. He knew he could get hurt in the process, but wasn't he already hurt? He lunged forward, stabbed his blade with all his might straight through the captain's middle. The captain's sword caught him in the shoulder, then clattered to the sands as the captain's grip failed.

"You did it, lad," he murmured as he sank to his knees. "You've killed me..."

Vincent stumbled back, pulling the blade dripping with blood from the captain's body. He could hardly believe it. He'd done it, and he was alive to tell that he had, too. He collapsed to the sand, too, eyes flickering open and shut.

The ship's quartermaster, Kendrick Shore, walked forward. "Vincent Hart has slain the captain. Do we accept him as our new captain?"

"Aye," the crew said in unison.

"Then let's get Captain Hart on the ship. He's wounded, mates," Kendrick shouted. "Cook, an extra cup of rum for each crew member. Tonight we toast to our captain."

The crew gave a hearty cheer. "Vincent Hart!"

Kendrick hauled the lad up to his feet. "Most of these men have been sailing since you've been in diapers, or longer, lad. You defeated that tyrant captain and that makes you our captain now, but some of them will try to take advantage of you."

"I know," Vincent said. "We chose you as our quartermaster. I'll listen to your advice above any of theirs."

"You're a wise boy," Kendrick said. "I'll do what I can to help you, Vincent Hart. Something tells me you're destined for greatness."

"Only if I live through the night," Vincent joked. He gave a bit of a weak chuckle.

"Ah, that's the truth," Kendrick agreed. "I'll teach you all I know, Captain. We'll make you pistol proof yet."

Aided by three mates, Kendrick carried the new captain aboard the pirate ship Sentinel's Revenge. Already the ship's surgeon had his supplies out to tend to the lad's wounds. He shook his head a bit at this, though. A fifteen-year-old pirate captain. Who had ever heard of such a thing?

Well, the crew of the Deathshard certainly had. Though some men swore their captain had to be a demonic beast in disguise as a young lad, Cullen Scarlett looked to be hardly more than seventeen, and he had been captain since age ten. That night in the Torekian Islands found the young captain up in the crow's nest with his most trusted confidant, the ship's navigator, Colfre. Young Captain Culley, as his crew called him, bore scars from a recent fight, face long and weary.

"My own first mate, Colfre," he said, shaking his head as he turned his face to the stars.

"Aye, Scar, but Cutter never was a smart man," Colfre said. "That Aaron will serve you well."

"I wouldn't be alive if he hadn't stepped in and taken that blow," Cullen said. He turned to look down to the deck, littered with a few sleeping men and those wide-awake on watch. He could see Aaron standing faithful and true at the helm, keeping the ship on course. "By all counts he should be dead, and he's there working hard as always."

"He has total faith in you, Scar," Colfre said. "Are we almost to port? We'll need to restock soon, I should think."

"And get rid of some of our priceless loot for a good cut of coin," Cullen said, giving a bit of a nod. He tried to run a hand through his snagged blond hair, but could barely succeed, it was so tangled. He gave a sigh. "And I suppose it is about time for me to take another bath."

"You say that like you'll be bathing in the River Styx," Colfre said, giving a hearty laugh. "Come on, Scar, mate, you're the captain. You deserve to look a bit more pampered than the sailors."

"Those sailors are twice as old as me, most of them," Scar said. "If I were clean, that'd be one more thing we don't have in common. I work with them, Colfre, and I'll keep workin' with them an' sweatin' with them 'til Judgement Day if I have a say in it. If that means being filthy as the filthiest dog among them, then so be it."

"You aren't expecting this to become a cursed pirate ship now, are you, you little demon boy?" Colfre joked.

Cullen gave a feigned maniacal laugh in answer. The men below could hear that diabolical chuckle and it filled some of them with fear. Their captain only looked to be an innocent lad. They didn't trust his innocent face. They knew better. That boy could sneak into any dark space and kill a man in his sleep, stealthy as stealthy could be. He'd stopped many a mutiny by finding and killing the ringleaders, and no one knew just how he did it. If Cullen Scarlett had a say in it, they'd keep thinking it was pure magic. He loved the stories.

"You'd best get some sleep while you can, Scar," Colfre said. "Especially if we'll be coming into port soon."

"Aye," Cullen relented. He rolled from the flat platform that made up Colfre's crow's nest and caught the rigging with such practiced skill.

He could just remember his first day on a ship, barely six years old, a bumbling boy for all counts. Couldn't even take to the rigging with any skill, but he'd caught on quick, so quick, and kept from getting killed for every year since then. By the time he was eight, he'd started dreaming of becoming captain. He knew his captain was a good one, true, but not nearly so good as he could be. There were better ways to sail the seas and get treasure, Cullen had been sure of it. He practiced for the next two whole years with all his heart, learning every skill he could from every crew mate who would teach him. By age nine, they were already saying he was such a quick learner it was almost inhuman. By age ten, he'd killed the captain in his sleep and taken over the ship in one night. The men who tried to fight him awoke dead just like the cap had.

Cullen chuckled as his feet touched the deck of his ship again, his Deathshard. It was too dark to see the Jolly Roger waving up above, but Cullen knew what it looked like without a thought. The shattered skull above a broken ship was a warning to all who dare cross the demon boy Cullen and his pirate crew.

Surrender or die!
_________________
From each harbor to harbor, across the blue sea, what a ship is is freedom. Just let me sail free...

~Wolfe

Whoosy · Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 4:13 pm Post subject:

WOW!

Wolfe, that is awesome! I really enjoyed it. You have a great beginning. Great detail, great potential for when those characters to meet up, but most of all, you have a real knack for envisioning the priates life and bringing it to the reader. Great!
How much more do you have written?
_________________
Personality opens doors; character keeps them open.

Carrol · Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 4:28 pm Post subject:

More...

Must...have...more...
_________________
Officer, Card Sharp, and Flag Liason of The Lost Lot.

ara · Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 5:40 pm Post subject:

i couldn't stop reading. absolutely wonderful!
_________________
Duct tape is like the Force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together.
~ Carl Zwanzig

Wolfe · Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 5:48 pm Post subject:

andi_kan · Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 1:04 am Post subject: Re: Wolfe presents...

Thebb · Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 2:48 pm Post subject: Re: Wolfe presents...

That was excellent!!! I love to read, especially captivating fiction books like yours looks to be!!! I can't wait to read the whole thing!!!!!!

Wolfe · Posted: Tue Feb 06, 2007 3:05 pm Post subject: Re: Wolfe presents...

Wolfe · Posted: Thu Feb 08, 2007 1:23 pm Post subject:

More

Kellsie jabbed the needle through the fabric of the torn shirt with a fury. So, she couldn't go out and work with the men in the orchards, but it was perfectly okay to make her work for them now? She wasn't a town seamstress. She was the daughter of the richest man on the island, for Pete's sake! Oh, but she couldn't do what she wanted to do, no, and they couldn't just get a couple of servants to do this mundane stuff so she could, either. No, her mother demanded she be a proper girl and do the housework and sew up torn clothes and cook good meals. The only time she ever had any fun was during the meals, when at least she was allowed to eat with the men.

They loved it when she joined them for a meal, after all. They'd tell her their ruckus tales of swashbuckling adventure, tell her all about the biggest pirate threats on the seas or the most amazing captains and crews. She especially loved to hear about Cullen Scarlett and Vincent Hart. She was sixteen now, and both had been captains of their crews since that age, or younger!

But, no, she would never be allowed to work in the orchards, plucking the precious rain fruit that made her family so wealthy. Nor would she ever be allowed to sail on one of her father's merchant ships with that precious cargo, taking it to ports around the world for farmers and wealthy land owners to buy and use. All she could do was jab that needle in and out, in and out, until her wrist got so sore she was glad when her mother called and said it was time to begin work on whatever meal came next.

"Kellsie! The ships are in! I have some things that should have arrived with them," her mother called.

Kellsie positively beamed. Or, better, sent her into town for a grocery run. She stood and dropped both shirt and needle precariously on the chair she had been sitting in, smiling. Despite the smile, she forced her voice to sound annoyed. Her mother wouldn't let her do anything she actually liked, after all.

"Yes, Mama," she called.

"Don't be like that," Rowanne Orchard bid her daughter. She came from the kitchen to meet her daughter in the hallway, and handed her a sheet of paper. "Here's the list, Kellsie. Now, go, and be quick about it. You know I'll need your help to prepare dinner, and those men will be hungry after working so hard tending for the trees."

"Yes, Mama," Kellsie said. She bobbed in a polite little curtsy, list clutched in one hand along with her skirt. Her mother clucked her tongue, shaking her head.

"Go on, then, and be quick about it, child!" Rowanne urged.

Kellsie spun on her heal and started out of the house. Once outside, she shot down the road at a quick pace. If there were anything on the list she couldn't carry, her mother would have said to take a horse or a carriage. Kellsie was glad for the opportunity to run, breathing in the salty air with a great smile upon her face. She could see Port Acton spread out beneath her, considering their home was on the highest hill of the island. Hilltops were the perfect places for the rare rain fruit trees to grow, from what her father told her. Oh, it would be a pain to climb back up after running errands, but for now, she let the speed of her legs and the force of gravity carry her wild and free down the hillside path.

It was staring out toward the ocean that she saw it coming in to port. Islinian war brig! And she could see the signal flag out for the port soldiers to meet it. That meant one thing. Captives. Pirates! Kellsie's smile grew tenfold. Her father wouldn't even know yet, nor would her mother. If she hurried, she would be able to see these pirates up close before they were taken down to the fort's dungeon and locked up tight, awaiting judgement. She knew her father would go down and talk with the pirates, ask for papers and proof that they were good men, take some of them in, but that would take days and days, and she wanted to hear their stories now.

Well, then, no time to delay! She started down the hill again in an absolutely mad sprint that most girls wouldn't possibly be able to manage, considering they were probably kept locked up inside all their lives to do stupid chores and look pretty, with tight corsets and things like that. That was not the life for Kel Orchard!

She could feel the change in the path as it went from being the smooth dirt road that lead up to her home to the main road of cobblestone. She pushed herself harder still, trying to reach the port, watching the war brig's large sails. They were still moving, just a bit. Kellsie smiled. If she could reach the docks at about the same time that the ship came in, maybe she'd have the best chance. No, she would have the best chance of talking with some of the pirates.

Oh, sure, she knew some of them would be the sorts no one in their right minds would want to talk with, bloodthirsty beasts that pretended to be men, even gentlemen. They were far from gentle. It was the noble ones she was looking for, and the clever ones. The ones with stories to be told! Stories that weren't all about getting drunk and cutting someone to pieces in a brawl or shooting a guy in the head or whatever.

She thundered past townspeople left and right, smiling as she did. She didn't mind the stares they gave her as she ran along like she had a herd of wild boars on her tail or something. Let them think what they would. She had pirates to see, to meet, to talk with freely. She only slowed her pace when her feet hit the wood. She had just made it in time. The gangway was being lowered into place at that very moment. She watched as some soldiers went on board, almost holding her breath.

The smoke signal caught Cullen's attention, though mostly because it had caught Colfre's, and the navigator and watchman had urged his captain to look into it. Cullen sighed. He knew that little rock fairly well, having marooned a mutinous mate or two on it himself. Anyone there was probably not someone he wanted on board his ship. At the least, he could look into it and sail away quickly. There were no ships in sight. It wasn't a trap, probably.

"I'll take a longboat ashore with nine others," Cullen said. The rest of ye keep the Shard ready to sail on a moment's notice. If this is trouble, I want to be able to get out of here quick as a shark."

"Aye-aye, captain," the crew answered.

Cullen issued out some orders and chose the hand s that would come with him from there, and Colfre was among them. The navigator rarely left the ship, an old enforced habit that was hard to break. Cullen had offered to let the broad-shouldered man off at any number of ports when pardons were to be had, but though Colfre missed his family he stayed at Scar's side through thick and thin and refused to do anything but stick there. He used the excuse that his brother had probably married his wife by then, and he didn't want to see the results, more often than not.

Once the longboat had been lowered, together, the ten chose crew members of the Deathshard rowed toward the shore. Cullen heaved at an oar along with the other men, chanting in time to some long-sung chanty, such that they all rowed together.

It didn't take them long to reach the shore at the pace they set. The waters were calm, and no dangerous rocks broke up their way. That was much to Cullen's liking. Through the crystalline blue water, whole schools of fishes could be seen. Cullen considered throwing out some nets if they had the time and the one sending out the smoke signal wasn't a threat. Fresh fish would be a delicious change from the dried meats and vegetables they had been living on.

One thing at a time, Captain.

The sailors could feel as the ship hit sand, and men started jumping into the shallows to pull the longboat to the shore, just far enough to keep it from drifting away.

"The smoke signal isn't far off," Colfre told Cullen.

"Good," Cullen said. He gestured to half the men. "You stay with the boat. Anyone you don't know tries to take it by force, you kill them."

"Aye-aye, Captain," they replied.

Cullen gave a bit of a nod. His blond hair was pulled back, away from his deadly cursed diamond blue eyes. Anyone who looked in those eyes knew the man was completely and entirely serious. He gestured with one hand.

"Lead the way, Colfre, seeing as this is your crazy scheme," Cullen said.

Colfre gave a nod and started out across the sands. There wasn't much to the little island. It was mostly just sands, really, except for the stand of palm trees where he smoke was coming from. Someone had taken a risk in burning one of those trees. The heat could have been a deadly thing, especially paired with the scorching tropical sun. That man had to be desperate.

"Ahoy!" someone called out from the groves, sounding more like he was half-asleep than anything else. That surprised Cullen a bit. After all, usually when he rescued someone from a godforsaken island they sounded more grateful to see actual living people.

"Ahoy," Colfre called out.

The thin and weary-looking man stumbled into sight, walking like his legs and arms were weighted with lead. It seemed that his eyes were only half-open.

"Thank you, good sirs, for stopping," he said. His tone was dull and flat. It came mumbling like the voice of one who had just awoken, tongue heavy, still half-lost in a dream.

"Aye, mate," Cullen said. This man didn't look like a threat, but he didn't exactly scream "asset" either. "What's your name, and how came you to this little island?"

"John, they call me," he answered. "My previous captain decided I was more of a hindrance than a help, but I assure you this is not the ca-"

Mid-word, John collapsed to the sand, completely and entirely unconscious.

"What do we do, Cap?" one of the sailors asked Cullen.

Cullen pinched his nose and shook his head, a bit frustrated by this change in the winds. He was in a right mind frame to leave the man asleep on the sands.

"Captain," Colfre said. "He looks healthy enough. He's probably just weary from his short stay here. Let's bring him on board. If he proves to be a useful hand, why, that's one more for us. If he's not, then we leave him for the sharks before we reach the next port."

Cullen considered it for a long moment before giving a nod. "Let's take him to the longboat and get back to the Deathshard, quick-like, ye swabbies."

The three sailors and Colfre lifted the sleeping John from the sands and began hauling his bean pole thin frame back to the longboat, with Cullen trailing along behind and shaking his head.

'This had better be worth it,' he thought grumpily. He walked a bit apart from the men, something he only did when he was particularly irritated. They recognized the sign and kept their distance, too.

With a loud thunk, the gangway from the brig to the dock was set in place. Kellsie pushed her way to the front of the crowd that had gathered to leer and shout at the prisoners the brig had captured. Several uniformed soldiers in their striking blue uniforms hurried onboard to help. There was a lot of hustle and bustle up on the deck, but from where she was standing, Kel couldn't see much of it. She'd made her way to the very front of the crowd, at the least, by the time she heard a nonrhythmic trudge of footsteps dragging along the deck toward the gangway, and the jangle of chains.

"Make way for the prisoners," a man shouted. "These be dangerous men, pirates and murderers all."

Kel's eyes lighted upon the lot with eager anticipation. She tried to guess which ones her father would speak with as she looked between all these rugged sea-worn sailors. Many of them had tattoos covering their arms and faces, any place of their skin that was open to eyesight hinted at still more beyond. One or two met the girl's eyes with hunger, and she knew for a fact those were ones her father wouldn't deal with.

Then, last but not least, he stepped into sight. He was at least a head taller than most of the men, and his red hair made him all the more noticeable. She couldn't help but think of Vincent Hart when she saw him at first. But, no, Vincent Hart wouldn't walk with that sluggish step, that sad look in his eyes. He would be strutting like a peacock even in chains. She watched the man come down the gangway closely, trying to guess at his age. For all his height, his face didn't have the crow's feet, folds, or wrinkles to be too very old.

He met her eyes for a split-second, and he mouthed the words, "Help me."

Kellsie felt her heart flip in her chest. How could she not? He had to be with these men by some mistake. She wanted to walk right up to the soldier escort and demand he be released. The clinking and clanking of the chains against the wood and the slosh of the tide against the docks filled her ears for a moment, drowning out the murmuring of the crowd around her. His eyes, green and deep, swallowed her for a moment in their desperation.

She started to reach her hand out to touch his shoulder comfortingly as he passed close, but a soldier stepped in between.

"These are dangerous men, miss," he told her, his voice snide. "Go home to your parents."

Kel set her jaw, her fists clenched. It took every ounce in her body not to just slap him for those words. But he was right. The sooner she went home and told her father, the sooner that young man would be freed from those chains. She turned on her heels and pushed through the crowd, looking down at her mother's list quickly.

Most of the things on it would be at the post office, mail and specific packages. She would make that her first stop, it being right near the docks. The last few items were the sort of things, food and soap and suchlike, that she would find at the town marketplace. She walked quickly and gracefully, weaving through bustling streets with great skill. She knew just how to navigate her hometown, even if she didn't know how to navigate the high seas in a ship.

"Miss Kellsie," a man called from the door of the bank. "Make sure your father knows about the prisoners. Some of them look to be his sort."

"Thank you, Sir," Kellsie replied, polite, though she wanted to say, "I know, and if you want me to get to him any sooner, why don't you do my stupid chores for me?"

The image of that young man's face, those desperate green eyes, echoed in her memory, caused another pang in her heart. She wanted to completely skip over her chores every time his face reasserted itself, but her mother would scold her up and down for not completing such a simple task as picking up the mail.

Kel ducked into the post office and nudged her way to the front of the line, issuing apologies to people who had been waiting for longer than she. She made her way to the desk, much to the clerk's annoyance.

"Miss Orchard, you can not simply push your way to the front of the line and expect immediate service," he informed her.

"Mister Thomas, did you know that a war brig has just come into port with prisoners?" Kellsie asked. "My father certainly doesn't, and you know he will want this news as soon as possible. I only found out because I am here to get a package for my mother."

"Oh," Mister Thomas said, his attitude instantly changing. "That's completely different, then, isn't it?"

Everyone in Port Acton, save only a few of the more bitter sort, respected the Orchards for what they did for the poor men who had never really wanted to be pirates, but to whom fate had dealt a meager hand. It was like some tale, and not reality, the way Oren Orchard took in those men, gave them work, and paid them well to send them home to their families or let them stay and live in peace, sailing only if their hearts truly desired, and then primarily on Oren's own well-guarded merchant ships. It was a good man who saw through the black and white and understood that grey area, helped those men back to solid ground.

Mister Thomas turned from the counter and quickly retrieved two packages and a small bundle of mail.

"All from your mother's sister, from the looks of it, Miss Orchard," he said with a smile. "Go on, now."

"Thank you," Kellsie said. She bobbed in a quick curtsy, tucked the little packages and the mail bundle under her arm, and hurried on to the marketplace.

By the time she'd left the post office, word was already spreading about the prisoners. There was always a bit of hubbub when it came to hanging pirates, and trying to guess how many Oren would save this time, and all that. Kel didn't mind that a lick. It meant that everyone ushered her to the front, making way for the Orchard girl so she could get home to her father.

She heard a few bids already being made, especially by the men who had been down at the docks and seen the prisoners.

"That tall lad at the end, the redhead, he'll take that one for sure," a man was saying. "Hardly more than a boy, that one. Probably deserves a second chance."

"He'd better," Kellsie mumbled. She exchanged some coins for the bundle of groceries her mother had requested and was on her way again in no time flat.

Making her way up the hill again did prove to be a bit of a pain, but Kellsie made the best of it, packages under both arms, and in a complete and total hurry.

"Miss Kellsie," a sweaty man greeted as she broke from the road toward the house.

"Ahoy, Greg," she replied with a grin. "You might have some new friends at the dinner table."

"Your father's checking on some crates, lass," Greg said. "I'd be glad to tell him, but I expect you'll want to, eh?"

"You know me," Kel said. She held the packages out and gave a cute little pout. "Could you?"

"Of course, Miss Kellsie," he answered. He scooped up the whole load and started toward the house with a light step. Kel watched the former pirate with a smile. He'd been working for her father now for a long time, just refused to go. She could remember the days when she donned boy's pantaloons and he helped lift her into the trees so she could pick rain fruit, too. He was as good as an uncle to her.

Kellsie broke from the path and pushed through the tropical foliage with a grin on her face. She knew these bushes and everything like the back of her hand, and she surely didn't miss a step. With a joyous voice, she called for her father.

"Papa! Papa! I have news!"
_________________
From each harbor to harbor, across the blue sea, what a ship is is freedom. Just let me sail free...

~Wolfe

Thebb · Posted: Fri Feb 09, 2007 2:32 pm Post subject:

wow wolfe!! I really want to read the whole thing right now

/e doesn't like waiting Razz

Great job though!!
_________________
Of all the things I've lost...

I miss my brain the most.

ara · Posted: Sat Feb 10, 2007 8:31 am Post subject:

MORE!!!

must have more!!! Very Happy

_________________
Duct tape is like the Force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together.
~ Carl Zwanzig

Thebb · Posted: Sat Feb 10, 2007 4:51 pm Post subject:

I couldn't second that more Ara!!

I find myself getting that feeling that there's a good book I'm in the middle of and I want to get back to and then I realize. . .I can't!!!

More please!! Very Happy

_________________
Of all the things I've lost...

I miss my brain the most.

Wolfe · Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 4:26 pm Post subject:

I got lazy. I'm sorry Sad

It was a good hour after the Deathshard set sail from that tiny island before Cullen's new "friend" awoke. In that hour, anyone with any expertise in medicine took a look at him, and all of them agreed. He just looked fast asleep, not injured nor in any pain. That just made Cullen more annoyed. What need did e have for a lazy oaf who just slept upon his ship?

Though he wanted to be doing more, he waited with arms crossed, a scowl set upon his face. Finally, John began to stir.

"Ahoy, lad," the lean pirate said, eyes half open. "Go fetch your captain. I'm sure he'll be wantin' to speak to me."

"I am the captain, John," Cullen informed him. "My name is Cullen Scarlett. Perhaps you've heard of me."

If he had, John didn't show it. His eyes didn't widen in that usual surprise at hearing the news that this twenty-year-old whelp was a pirate captain, and a demon of one at that. He sat up slowly.

"Ah, Captain, my apologies."

Cullen just tipped his head. "You were starting to tell me that you are not a hindrance, as your previous captain must have thought. Convince me."

"You may have noticed my falling asleep on the shore," John assumed. He still sounded half-asleep, but e was sitting up like a man wide-awake.

Cullen just raised an eyebrow. Of course he had. "Go on."

"I have a disease or a curse upon me," John said. "I'll do that sometimes, especially if I'm feelin' something strongish, like I was on the shore to see people again. It's called narcolepsy."

"Sounds quite a lot like pure laziness to me, mate," Cullen replied. "You'll have to do better than that."

"Well, when I have me fits," John continued, "I tend to see treasure."

Now Cullen leaned in. "Treasure, hm?"

"I helped my previous captain by describing the treasures I saw, where I saw 'em, ye ken?" John explained. "He found every last one of 'em, just as I said. A'course, when I'm fallin' from the rigging in the middle of battle and screamin' something fierce in the middle o' the night, it gets to wear thin with the captains and crews."

"Not the first ship to abandon you on some rock, I take it?" Cullen asked.

"Nay, Captain, but you could make it the last," John said. "You're a demon of a sailor, pistol-proof through and through, I hear. I c'n make you and your crew rich beyond your wildest dreams."

"Aye, I'm sure y'could," Cullen said. "But I'd have t' feed ye, clothe ye, give ye room to sleep, and I take it y'd sleep a lot o' the time."

"I won't deny it, Captain," John answered, spreading his arms open.

"The cons are weighing mighty heavily against the pros," Cullen said.

"Let me find you one treasure," John said. "I'll tell you where to sail, an' if you like what you find there, why, keep me onboard a bit longer yet. If not, leave me on whatever island to rot or find my way to another ship."

Cullen shook his head a bit. "And when we go to that island and find your crew lying in wait to kill us off and take our cargo and my ship, what then?"

"I guarantee you won't, Cap," John said.

Cullen was more than a little frustrated. He could usually read a man pretty well, but John's expression had remained the same this whole time eyes half-closed, lips just down-turned past neutral. His voice couldn't be any more flat and dull, giving nothing away.

"Sail north about two hours, Cap, and to the west-north-west there you'll find a little island," John said. He closed his eyes. "Yeah, that should be the one. Got a few rocks out in front of it that look like watchtowers. 'Tis the island where the captain of the Sentinel's Revenge keeps his loot. You'll see two ships in port, both with two masts, but there'll be no pirates. Those ships, the treasure, it's all ripe for the picking. But if you see any dogs, you'll want to kill 'em."

"Vincent Hart's treasure?" Cullen asked, giving a lopsided grin. Wouldn't that be something? Take the poofy pirate captain's whole fortune, including his apparently large collection of fancy hats, and leave him with nothing at all. "You say there's no one there?"

"No one," John said. His eyes gave a bit of a twinkle, his lips twitched into a smile, but then he went dead unconscious, and fell to the table he'd been laying on once again.

Cullen left the narcoleptic pirate to sleep and took to the deck. He shouted out orders to sail north at top speed, then scaled the rigging deftly.

"Colfre, mate," he said.

"Aye, Scar?" Colfre asked. He laid aside a book and looked to his captain.

"Keep your spyglass west-north-west, an' give a shout when you see an island with two ships in port," Cullen instructed. "That be our destination."

"Aye," Colfre said simply. "Was it our new friend what told you to go there?"

"Aye, mate," Cullen answered. "And I don't know why I trust him, except that if he's right, I'll have a lot of new fancy hats."

Colfre raised an eyebrow, but he didn't question his captain. He didn't have a chance as Cullen scaled the rigging back down to the deck deftly and put in his hand to aid the work along faster still.

Oren Orchard caught his daughter in a very light hug, having no desire to cover her with his sweat from all the working he'd been doing. He smiled when she went ahead and hugged him tight anyway. This was not a normal girl, no, not by a long shot.

"What's this news, Kel Girl?" he asked.

"Papa, a war brig came into port," Kellsie answered. "I saw it as I was coming down the hill, and I went to see if they had any prisoners."

"And did they, lass?" Oren asked. He pulled back a step.

"Yes, Papa," Kellsie said. "At least twenty men. They must have taken a whole ship, Papa."

"Oh, lass, you went to the dock, didn't you?" Oren asked. He shook his head. "Don't tell your mother, all right?"

Kellsie rolled her eyes. All right, so Mama didn't want her going to the docks. She'd been helpful, hadn't she?

"Micah, ready a horse," Oren said. "Kellsie, come with me. Since your mother will be angry enough already, I don't see why we shouldn't give her a bit more to be mad about."

Kellsie's frown turned immediately into a smile. "Thank you, Papa!"

"Should I make that two horses, then, Sir?" Micah asked. "One with a lady's saddle?"

"Yes, yes, Micah," Oren confirmed.

"And should I also begin to ready the shipping carriage?" Micah asked. "Twenty men who must all be weary after a long stay in the brig will want a ride."

"That is an excellent plan, though I don't expect I'll be bringing all twenty up," Oren said. He gave Kellsie a look, and she nodded. Not all of them were the sort Mama would mind having around. "Yes, though, get it ready."

"Aye-aye, Sir," Micah replied, giving a hearty grin.

"Can't I just ride the normal way?" Kel asked, pouting.

"You're sixteen now, Kel," Oren said to his daughter. "You have to wear a skirt and you have to ride the proper way."

"If it were the proper way, you would also ride side saddle," Kellsie retorted. She crossed her arms. "Fine, but I don't like it."

"I know you don't," Oren replied. "That's not always going to work, Kel, dearest."

Kellsie made her pout grow, a few tears forming in her eyes.

"You're only acting," Oren said.

"How can you be sure, Papa?" Kellsie asked, her throat constricted. "Could you take that risk?"

"Yes, he surely can," Micah said. "You're a beautiful actress. You should save that talent for the stage and not to wrap your dear father around your finger."

Kellsie took a little bow, her eyes instantly dry. "All right, all right. Are the horses ready, Micah?"

"They surely are," Micah confirmed. "Go and ride, and may the wind be at your back."

"Thank you, Micah," Oren replied. He took Kel by the hand gently. "Shall we?"

"Oh, yes, Papa," Kellsie said.

Oren instantly transformed to have the countenance of a small child, matching Kellsie for her joy as they both ran headlong to where the horses stood ready. This was the sort of thing he lived for. How exciting it was to do this, to offer a helping hand to those in need, save lives, keep his father's legacy alive. He could hardly wait to see what men awaited him, and hear their tales.

He offered an arm to help Kellsie up and into her saddle, where she perched with care and a little frown. She felt so much more in control riding facing forward, instead of sitting sideways. No matter. She took the reigns in hand and gave a smile to her father.

"Let's go," she said.

Oren set the pace, swift and steady, but not too terribly fast. It wasn't the end of the world, after all, but it was something exciting, something that didn't happen every day. He knew how Rowanne would pretend to feel about the whole thing.

"More mouths to feed? And you didn't get rid of any of the ones we have?" she'd say.

But, secretly, he knew she still felt it was the right thing, giving people this second chance.

Kellsie, as she rode, wasn't thinking about the way her mother would feel, or even her father. She kept flashing back to the tall young man, the tingle of his eyes as they met hers, the desperation of his expression as he asked her for help. She supposed no one else was looking to meet any of those men's eyes. They were all looking at the chains or looking through the men and seeing only a form of entertainment. That didn't matter, though. What mattered was that they were going to save him, and they were going to do it soon. It caused her heart to flutter.

"Was he handsome?" Oren asked as they rode.

"Hm?" Kellsie replied.

"The lad who has you swooning like that," Oren said. "You're my daughter. I think I should know if he is handsome."

"He..." Kel hesitated. Her mother wouldn't allow it, but would her father be all right? "He was one of the prisoners. Papa, he's so young, and he just looked so sad, so... wronged. He saw me watching him and he asked me to help him. You have to help him, Papa."

"I will talk with him and I'll see if he is deserving," Oren promised. "That's the best I can do, Kellsie. Your mother will not be happy if I brought home a sailor to be your boyfriend."

"I know, Papa," Kellsie said. "But Mama doesn't have to have every last word, and she doesn't have to know. And it could just be my heart going out to him like you always say yours does. It doesn't mean anything else."

"You're sure of it?" Oren asked.

"As sure as I can be," Kellsie said. "He just looked so... so..."

"You already said that," Oren replied.

Gold coins of all nationalities, printed with the portraits of long-dead men and creatures of myth, spilled from treasure chests of stone, brass, and wood. Gemstones glittered and sparkled, adding a rainbow of color to the yellow and white of the gold. Crowns of all precious metals, in forms almost as varying as the sands on the shore, lay scattered like leaves in a field amidst this treasure. Fine fabrics, silks and velvets, beautifully-woven brocades, lay in heaps like dirty laundry on the floor. Bottles of the finest wines and champagnes and alcoholic beverages sat in racks in the cool corner of the cave. Opposite those racks were the only other organized thing in the whole of the cavern.

Racks of hats. Hundreds of them. Big hats and small hats, poofy and plain. Hats with feathers from all sorts of birds. Turbans made of fabrics of all shades and patterns and textures. Caps. Bonnets with floral decorations and fancy ribbons, though those were few and far between. Hats made from animal skin, soft and warm and furry. Straw hats that were wide and looked like flattened cones, and others with such large brims that they seemed completely ridiculous. False ears made of fake fur and fabric, cat ears and bunny ears and dog ears and even a black one with mouse ears and a golden logo emblazed on the front of it. If there was a larger collection of hats in the world, well, it was in a museum and not in this cave with its dragon's hoard of treasure.

And a dragon should rightly have been guarding it, for all its priceless value. The treasure's guardian lay atop a pile of soft linens and pillows, his gold flanks rising and falling with the steady pace of sleep. Its paws twitched, its hackles raised a bit, pursuing some rabbit or delicious furry thing in its dreams. Its soft, golden fur was hardly so protective as gold scales would be. If anything, it was more like the soft sort of fur a little child liked to snuggle for comfort against scary things, for friendship, for the love only a good dog could give.

Some people would think it foolish to leave such a horde protected only by a dozing dog, a lazy golden retriever, but those people would be underestimating this dog. And, besides, no one knew where the treasure lay, and those who did knew they would get their fair share. There would be no thievery, so there was no need of a dragon.

Or, was there?
_________________
From each harbor to harbor, across the blue sea, what a ship is is freedom. Just let me sail free...

~Wolfe

Ziddan · Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 6:28 pm Post subject:

WOW that was great and i only read the first part, i would read more but im really tiered tonight ive been working for like a week straight.

You should really see if someone can publish this.

I only got confused by the girl was she on a ship or was she on land?

Wolfe · Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2007 9:30 pm Post subject:

Kellsie is on land, although I don't know that it matters too much for plot purposes. I could make that more concrete, though.

And, thanks for the praise Smile

_________________
From each harbor to harbor, across the blue sea, what a ship is is freedom. Just let me sail free...

~Wolfe