Two days later, the double-masted caravel made its way past the breakwater and out onto the open ocean. Trajan stood near the stern and looked back at the mainland, wondering how long this next leg would take, and how this next Roberts would receive them. Both Inigo and Westley doubted Archard was the correct Roberts since Inigo was sure he had retired more than five years ago, but there was no avoiding the matter. There were only two ways to encounter the current Dread Pirate Roberts: Either luck upon him on the open ocean, or get the last Dread Pirate Roberts to help locate him. Only Archard could provide the identity of the next Roberts, so to Archard they went.
“I must say I’ve grown to admire your calm,” Westley said as he watched the land grow more distant.
“Thank you, sir.” Trajan was silent for a moment. “I appreciate yours, as well. It’s curious how entirely different you both are…I wonder what kind of man this next one will be. Neither of you were at all what I expected when I set out to find Roberts.”
“What did you expect? Legs of wood and long beards?”
Trajan laughed. “Perhaps. I didn’t have an expectation of appearance, just of personality. I expected Roberts to be a deadly, ruthless adversary without a care in the world for the lives of others. But you are a gentleman, and he,” Trajan motioned to Inigo, pacing the deck with enthusiasm, “is a craftsman and artist. I shan’t be surprised if this Archard turns out to be clergyman.”
“Take care of thine prejudices. I too was surprised at my first encounter with Roberts, and I can still hardly believe how he managed to change my life from that point forward.”
“Someday I will say the same about you, sir.”
Westley pursed his lips. Trajan noticed he was about to say something but held it back. Instead, Westley smiled, nodded, and looked back toward the shore.
Quidest filled two mugs with tea and climbed the stairs to the top deck. She found Westley reclining on a large coil of rope, admiring the stars overhead. The relatively small ship carried itself across the gentle water with speed on a moderate breeze.
“Oh, thank you very much,” Westley said, taking the tea and moving over to allow her to sit beside him. “It appears our friend has fashioned himself a protégé.”
She watched Inigo giving Trajan another fencing lesson. Gone was the aggressive dissatisfaction that punctuated his early lessons when they first set out. Now, Inigo was a master, speaking the language reserved for fellow artisans.
“I have never seen him so happy. Not even when he commanded the Revenge.”
“You were with him on the Revenge?”
“It was how we met. I was a stowaway.”
“You stowed away on an infamous pirate ship? Are you mad?”
She laughed. “I thought it was a whaling ship. I wanted to make my way to New Zealand to escape.” She paused, and Westley waited while she collected her thoughts.
“I was running from a bad situation and found myself in a worse one. I hid, in Roberts’ cabin it turned out. Inigo discovered me in a chest of clothing and when he did…” she smiled, “he screamed like a woman.” She and Westley laughed.
“I don’t imagine that went over well with the crew.”
“They never knew I was there. Inigo let me stay in his cabin, hidden. He…he was so kind. A perfect gentleman to me. He treated me like a lady, and no one had ever treated an urchin like me as a lady.” She looked into her tea. “When we finally made port a month later, he gave me enough gold to go anywhere I wanted. But I stayed in that town…and prayed often that one day he’d return. A couple of years later he did.” She took a sip. “I like to believe he chose to retire there because he wanted to find me.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, but he would never admit it. He always says,” – here she mimicked Inigo’s fierce accent – “‘I guess I’m forced to keep you with me so you don’t go spreading secrets.’ But really, he loves me. And I him.”
“And he’s never proposed marriage in all these years.”
“You’ve heard what he has to say about that.”
“Women have a way of persuading men to make smarter choices.”
“Indeed, but I have no desire to be married out of guilt. He must choose me of his own free will. Until then, I will simply love him from this distance.”
“You are a remarkable woman. And a lady, to be sure.”
Quidest smiled, watching Inigo and Trajan. “I know.”
Westley smiled as well, and went back to admiring the stars.
Ten days into their voyage bells rang out, startling Trajan from his study of a navigational chart. He climbed up on deck, then noticed Inigo and Westley looking off the stern.
“They’re bearing down on us,” Westley said as he joined them.
“That’s too large to be a pirate ship,” Trajan observed.
“It’s a Florinese galleon. And it means to board us.”
“Why?”
“Probably because it thinks we’re pirates. This is how it works,” Westley said.
“But we’re not. Should we be concerned?”
Westley and Inigo gave mild shrugs.
“Meh,” Inigo grunted.
“I do still have quite a price on my head in Florin,” Westley said.
“Yes, we all know Roberts is the most wanted man in Florin, but you are no longer he, so what does it matter?”
“Because King Humperdink had Westley’s face carved into the mast of every ship in his fleet,” Inigo said. “He’s the most recognized man to the Florinese navy.”
“How do you know that?”
Inigo shrugged again. “Because I’ve sunk many Florinese ships.”
“I’m told their officer corps learn to sketch my likeness as a requirement for their commission.”
“The reward was placed in an interest-yielding trust for whoever captured the Dread Pirate Roberts. It nearly broke the Florinese treasury and has only gotten larger since then. Humperdink is a great hunter, but he is no accountant,” Inigo said.
“So what do we do?” Trajan asked.
Inigo looked at him blankly. “Fight them, of course.”
Trajan watched the ship as it closed the distance. He looked to Inigo, then back to Westley.
“Must we?”
The two former pirates turned to stare at Trajan.
“I mean, I have no quarrel with them, and no desire to harm anyone needlessly. Couldn’t we find a way to bypass the confrontation?”
Westley and Inigo continued to stare with perplexed faces.
“Suppose…perhaps Westley were to stay below deck, or disguise himself somehow?”
At this, both men laughed so hard Trajan felt foolish.
“You mean hide?” Westley smiled. “That is a rather strange proposal.”
“Hide? Hide?” Inigo raised his palms and shrugged as though he’d never heard of the practice.
“He is naive, I suspect. No offense, certainly,” Westley put a hand on Trajan’s elbow, “but avoiding confrontation isn’t exactly what we…” He motioned for Inigo to complete the thought.
“Who hides? And why? We have battle upon us. It would be like throwing Christmas gifts into the furnace. Westley, I don’t understand this man.”
Westley examined Trajan and frowned. “Well, I suppose that maybe in Guilder they do such things?”
“Gentlemen,” Trajan finally said, “let me propose this: Say that Inigo and I meet them and report that we are hunting the Dread Pirate Roberts. We wouldn’t be speaking a falsehood. It might even allow us to gain some intelligence as to his whereabouts.”
They stared at Trajan with blank expressions until Westley spoke.
“It does seem like a viable option,” Westley considered, “however…”
“I want to fight them,” Inigo said.
“Of course none of us doubt your honor,” Trajan added quickly, “or your ability. It just seems like the simplest solution to avoid conflict all around. Those men have families.”
Westley smiled. “There is a depth to you that I find fascinating. Are all young men of Guilder so compassionate?”
Trajan shrugged. “I know not.”
The ship was even closer now, and Inigo was impatient.
“I want to fight them. And the boy needs a practice round. Come on, Westley, don’t let him persuade you to do this, this…hiding thing.”
Westley turned to Quidest, who had been listening to the debate in silence while strapping on a scimitar after loading bolts into the shafts of several crossbows.
“What say you, madam?”
“Either way.”
Westley took a deep breath. “Alright. We shall try it Trajan’s way. I think I’ll take a nap below decks. If things should deteriorate into a general engagement, please don’t hesitate to wake me. Cheers.”
“Outrageous,” Inigo muttered as Quidest calmly gathered the weapons into a basket and removed the curved sword from her belt. “We’re not going to fight them?”
“No, my dear,” she patted his cheek, “but I shall make a nice bouillabaisse for our supper. You’d like that now, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but…but…” Inigo sputtered as he took a heavy seat on a crate. “It seems such a waste to pass up.”
“Trajan, dear. How about you do the talking. My lord doesn’t have the panache for the diplomatic side of things.”
“With respect,” Trajan bowed to Inigo, who waved his gesture off with a tired hand.
“Yes, yes, use your words when you should be using your sword.” Inigo rose to leave. “I suppose you want me to help slice the onions, or maybe scour the anchor, or polish boots. Bah!” he said, pacing off to the ship’s bow.
Quidest locked her arm within Trajan’s and patted his hand. “Don’t worry. He’ll perk up soon. After all, we’re bound to encounter plenty of other pirates along the way.”
“We are?”
“Of course. It is very dangerous traveling by sea.” They were now close enough to make out the rows of cannon along both sides of the Florinese galleon. “My, what a lovely warship,” she said. “I’ll ring you when the soup is ready,” and left below deck.
He stood on the stern alone, except for a couple of deckhands who went about their work, heedless of anything that had transpired.
Trajan stood erect as several Florinese soldiers boarded Westley’s ship. They spread out across the deck and inspected the skeleton crew who had gathered as ordered by a Florinese officer a moment earlier.
After the soldiers had secured the deck, the Florinese commander boarded. He looked past Trajan several times until finally settling on him, and spoke as if addressing a servant.
“Is this everyone?”
“Everyone except for the cook, and the ship’s master, who is feeling rather ill today.” Trajan motioned toward Inigo straddling the yardarm high above their heads.
“Why does he not present himself?”
“He seems a bit out of sorts today. I speak for him.”
“I speak for myself,” Inigo shouted down and held out his blade. “You want to speak with me? Ha!”
Trajan looked at the officer and slightly shook his head.
The officer took Trajan’s meaning and rolled his eyes, said in a loud but firm voice, “That will not be necessary.”
Trajan breathed easier.
“Search the ship,” he said, and waved his men over, who scattered to examine the vessel. “State your name and your business.”
“Trajan of the Greenglen, Guilder, sir,” Trajan bowed. “I seek the Dread Pirate Roberts.” He motioned to Inigo. “This man is my guide.”
The officer chuckled. “Tell me, son of Guilder…”
“Son of Mastan, sir,” Trajan said with authority.
The officer sized up the younger man. “Yes, of course. Tell me, Guilderian,” he emphasized with pompous disdain, “why would you seek an infamous pirate, and how on earth do you expect this…” here he drew out the word, ”pathetic…fellow to find him for you? King Humperdink’s navy has been hunting Roberts since my father’s day. The reward on Roberts’ head is greater than your king even possesses.” He laughed.
“Sir, this man once sailed with Roberts and knows a thing or two about his methods. I’ve paid a great sum to find the pirate. Roberts killed my father and I would as soon see him hanged in Florin if not skewered on the end of my sword. You have my compliments, sir.” Trajan bowed again.
From above, Inigo scoffed.
The officer shook his head and chuckled. “You waste your money, child.”
Just then several soldiers came rushing out of the galley with Quidest fast behind them, screaming in a fake French accent, “These dirty scoundrels dare to taint my kitchen with their stench!!” She bashed one on the head with a ladle and smacked another on the backside with a cast iron skillet. Most of the soldiers laughed and the officer silenced them with his hand.
“My cook, sir,” Trajan apologized.
“I’ll cook every last one of these dirty Florinese,” Quidest shouted. “Get off my ship!”
“Sir, there is no one else on board,” a soldier reported.
“Guilderian, you may continue with this fool’s errand you’ve undertaken. Should you be so fortunate as to stumble upon Roberts, I suspect he will make short work of you and your colorful cast of characters, and that would probably be for the best.” He turned on his heel and led his men back to their ship.
“Thank you for accommodating my whim, sir.” Trajan said as the Florinese galleon sailed away in the distance.
“It better be good soup,” Inigo fumed under his breath.
Trajan took his leave to survey the scene below decks. The galley was a mess of partially emptied barrels and upturned crates that the soldiers had disturbed during their search. Trajan stepped over a pile of onions and was startled by a voice from above.
“That does smell delicious, doesn’t it?”
Trajan investigated the rafters and saw Westley peeking out from a hammock.
“You were there the whole time?” Trajan asked.
“Take note, lad, if you are ever wont to hide, and I certainly don’t recommend making a habit of it, hide somewhere high above the ground. You’d be amazed how people always fail to look up.”
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