A Pirate's Life: Know your Crew (Part 3)
#4 of A Pirate's Life Series
(( Please note this is more of a half-chapter, where I just introduced the characters more. The days on the seas are long when you're voyaging across the waves with a purpose such as Caryas'. ))
The tide rose and fell.
The ship lurched.
Caryas woke. He was hot, as the coat Bruce had laid over him was thick for the daytime heat. His vision was black, but the small cracks between some of the planks provided thin beams of red-golden light which illuminated the crates. Bruce and Diedre weren't around. He heard shouting from above. His head was throbbing a bit, his arm was stiff, but not unmoveable. He stood, a bit groggily, then made his way to the deck. He emerged onto the main deck from the cargo hold doors, shielding his eyes from the bright sun.
They were at sea, was the first thing he noticed. The crew of six were going about their usual duties, Bruce aiding them and Diedre sitting on the side railing watching. The sun was low, and the sky red, so he guessed he'd slept late. Terrence sat by casually giving orders while studying a chart. Caryas trudged forward to help them tie some rigging, but Bruce and Terrence both stepped forward to protest. "Yeh ain't quite ready fer work, yet, mate." Bruce said with a half grin. Caryas scowled. "And I'm not in the mood for you to be stopping me." he said begrudgingly, but Bruce pushed him back. "I'm serious. Yeh ain't workin'." Caryas gave him a dull frown and sat back on the railing with Diedre.
"Tell me of yourself." She said suddenly after nearly ten minutes of sitting there. He looked over to her and thought. She was sitting there, just looking back at him, interested. "Oh, me? Nothing interesting." He said dully, hoping she wouldn't pursue the subject. "Oh, surely there is something interesing about you." She said, smiling. While he didn't want to keep conversating, he applauded her persistence, and gave in. "Well," He sighed and leaned back against the wood, "I was born in a small town, not far from the coast. Dad was a fisherman, passed off the family trade to me. I wasn't much of a fisherman." he laughed. She smiled again. "Is that why you turned to piracy?" He shrugged. "Eh, without many other options, it becomes alluring. I'm more in it for the freedom than the piracy. You don't appreciate the sea if your life depends on what comes out of it." She smiled. "I would say thats deep, but I'm not one for philosophy."
Caryas smiled. "Alright. Your turn." Diedre sighed as she looked away. "Well, my story is long and full of heartache." Caryas shrugged. "So the best of tales go." She smiled for a moment, then began to speak. "Well, my life started out normal. the daughter of a merchant, not quite upper class but not lower for sure. We lived normally, until I fell in love that is. The one who had my heart was a lords son, his name was Raul. He was much like the one, Achar Warringston who pursues us now, in looks and status, but he was kind and gentle, unlike our pursuer. We were in story book head over heels love, picture perfect, they said. Our families were glad to have us married. Raul got a steady job at the port markets, and we lived happily for nearly a year... But my luck doesn't last."
She turned to look back over the ship. "One day when Raul was at work, a knock came on our door. I answered and heard the news that was spreading like wildfire: A man shot and dead in the ports. My immediate fears were false; Raul was fine. But the sad reality was that Raul had done the shooting." She paused a moment. "He'd beet bartering with some sailor over the price of some finely aged mead, when the man had produced a pistol. Raul had tried to wrench it away, and in the struggle the sailor had been shot. Or so Raul told me. The sailors in the market all vouched for the same tale, which was that Raul had produced the pistol and shot the sailor for no reason they could discern." She shook her head. "Raul owned no gun. But they confined him to the hangman's noose. A week I spend outside his cell as he lay on death row, knowing that despite our struggles these were our final moments together." Once more she paused, her eyes drifting back over the sea. "Then it all happened quickly the day of his execution. He stood high on the gallows as the charges were read, and declared innocence to every one. I had to be restrained by the guards, for I was fighting to be with him, when the snare drum roll began. I saw the lever move, and when the trapdoor snapped, so did I. I drew the knives given to me by Raul to protect myself, and stabbed the two guards holding me. I grabbed one rifle, and shot the executioner. I ran forth, ignoring the shouts of the crowd and the surge of people coming after me. The other guards raised their rifles, and all i cared for was saving Raul. He kicked and kicked, but i cut him free before the noose claimed him. I held him in my arms as the guards descended on me, looking into his eyes as we both smiled and cried, happy I had bought us more time, and that we could now die together, but as they guards pried us apart, and I was dragged away... I watched as they put a bullet into his head..."
Caryas stared, horrified. "They shot him...? And you'd... Condemned yourself to death... By stopping his hanging... But they shot him straight away...?" She nodded, silent. "My God.... Thats terrible..." She looked over to him. "And I know more about you than you have told, panther." She said, eyes narrowing as she gives a half grin. Caryas' eyes widen for a second, then he stammered, "Wh-wha- Huh? What d'you mean?" She chuckled lightly. "Friends of mine have told me of your exploits, O'Connell... Among your closest friends you aren't called Stalepaw, but something else, if I'm right...?" He stared at her, then began, "Just what are you trying-". She held up a hand and he stopped. "Don't worry, pal... Your secrets safe with me. But might I say a certain wolf named Valentino speaks very,very ** ** highly of certain skills you possess." Caryas blushed heavily. That wolf hadn't shut his mouth since their breif encounter the prior month. "Well, I appreciate the secret keeping you're doing... That sort of thing usually doesn't go over well with the others..." Diedre nodded, smiling, and Caryas looked away again, blushing. Bruce chose that moment to approach. "Well, we've all worked ourselves ' a sweat, and I'm sure you two are jus' as hungry as us. How 'bout you join us fer some food?" Caryas and Diedre both agreed in silent harmony, and stood to follow Bruce below decks.
Bruce himself took the course of the meal to tell his life story to the entire crew, who were roaring in laughter due to his coarse language and blunt descriptions. "Well, it all started wit' me ma n' pa, who were quite a pair, always smackin' one another then fuckin' on th' table wit' me an me little sis Tabatha in th' other room. An' the two o' us knew what they were doin', too, fer sure. We'd make bets on which would win DAT particular type o' wrestling match." At this there was much spitting of food and spilled ale. "Anyways, me pap kicked me sister and mum out after she had another pup, a lil tyke we called Charlie, and he kept me aroun' fer the help I gave. Needless t' say he missed her an' her cookin' real quick an' took her back. Well, 'roundabouts when I was 16, he skipped town on a boat to ditch sum odd debt he owed a skinny feller named Kent. I was stuck wit me mum, me lil' sis, an' my new lil' brother. Now mum didn't last long after that, she got sick, up an' died, then left me wit' the young ones. Sis was 15 an' I was 17, so we could take care o' the littlest okay. Th' day came when I turned 18, an' I got the letter fer the draft. I sure as Hell wasn't gonna be a soldier, so I okayed it wi' tabatha to make a run fer it. The third day after me 18th birthday, I took off wit' everythin' I needed: Me clothes and be backbone." he looked thoughtful for a moment. "Tha' was 'bout ten years ago, since I'm 27 now. Sis got a job up at a mill an' left, last I 'eard from 'er she was doin' good, got 'erself a husband who ain't a load o' shit like me pa. She's takin care o' Charlie like 'er own kid, 'es 'bout twelve now. I gotta swing by an' visit them soon." He stretched back, took a big swig of some mead, and gave a big relaxed yawn. "An' there ya got it, folks. My story, beginnin' to end." There was mixed cheers and applause, and some snores even. Bruce gave a bah, waved a hand at them, then belched before declaring, "As fer now, I'm drunk, and tired, and drunk, and sleepy, and m're drunk, so I'mma off teh sleep." Several grunts of agreement followed, and most of the crew followed Bruce to the bunks. He'd been with them for a day but it was obvious he knew the most about what he was doing. Caryas and Diedre returned to the cargo hold, as they had elected to give Bruce the extra bunk in the bunk room.
As they laid down behind the crates, preparing for the nights sleep, they heard a soft noise behind the sack of wool, then a muffled "Damn.", then silence. Silent and quick as a black widow spider, Diedre slunk behind them and a muffled yell was heard. Diedre returned dragging a kicking, screaming, and struggling red blur. It took Caryas a moment to recognize it as a vixen, and a rather pissed off one at that. "Help me, before she wakes the others!" Diedre said. Caryas nodded, snapping back into it, before setting in with a coil of rope from the sack of wool. Soon they had the vixen tied and gagged. She looked grudgingly at them. "If a glance could kill, miss fox, you'd be a murderer..." Diedre said calmly. The vixen tried to lash out at her for the comment, but ended up falling over. Caryas chuckled, but stopped dead when she glared at him again. "Lets tuck her back behind the wool to deal with tomorrow." Diedre suggested, and Caryas agreed. Wondering what she could possibly be on board for, he helped Diedre set the still struggling fox behind the bag of wool. With the thoughts of why she had stowed away leaving his mind, Caryas drifted away.
Darkness, the laughter, that wicked laughter, he can't see his face.... The ship, its the ship he's on, the noose tightens again... He sees himself hanging, limp, loose, dead...
Again Caryas sits bolt upright. The ship creaks, and he looks around, sweating bullets and very paranoid. Diedre is asleep, and the soft thumps that had been the struggling vixen in the wool had faded. His heart was pounding so fast, he was amazed it hadn't woken Diedre. The thin moonbeams that entered the cargo hold from the cracks in the wood cast an uneven, creepy shadow on everything. Caryas drifted back once more to sleep, the dream still fresh on his mind. What did it mean?
The tide rose.
The tide fell.