(also a Dread Pirate Roberts)
On the fifteenth day, Trajan sat near the bow after breakfast, as was becoming his custom. He had not expected to find books on board and had hardly cracked one since beginning his training with Pilbrick. Now, with whole days at sea punctuated with silent progression over the waves and near boredom except the three times a day he trained with Inigo, he found his appetite for the written word rekindled.
Westley spent most of his time reading, and Quidest, to everyone’s delight, had had the foresight to bring a mini library on board. There were practical books on seamanship and carpentry, but also an assortment of scientific and historical documents, maps, navigational books, fictional stories, and poetry.
Trajan read them all. And in the evenings, over some the best meals he’d had in his life (Quidest had two of the deck hands fishing day and night), he would discuss what he’d learned with Westley and Inigo. They amazed him with how easily they conversed on any topic; it soon became clear to Trajan that the mantle of Dread Pirate Roberts was not handed over lightly. It was a post reserved for learned men, and he took renewed warning from this revelation.
They told him their tales – how they each had become Roberts, and of the adventures and lessons they’d stored along the way – and Trajan noted all of it.
That morning he had been devouring A Layman’s Guide to the Mathematical Theories Incorporating Geometric Principles in the Art of Catapult Design and took in a panoramic view of the deck. As his eyes scanned off to starboard, he glimpsed a dark shape.
Standing to get a better look, he saw it was an island. Trajan squinted and realized it was four islands, with hardly any ships anywhere on the horizon. He made a dash to the top deck and found Inigo standing next to the steersman.
“Land off the starboard,” Trajan said with excitement.
“Yes. We’ve arrived,” Inigo said.
“Which one is he on? I mean, the man who replaced you as Roberts?”
“The largest one, there.” Inigo pointed. “He may be Roberts still, but I doubt it very much. He was already quite wealthy when I met him and piracy was not, ehhh, how do I say, fitting to his peculiarities. He was very good with a sword, though. Also, he made Fezzik laugh, so we let him live.”
“And you’re confident we shall find him here?”
“Certainly, at some point. His family owns that island,” Inigo pointed to the landmass on the left, “and they own that island, and that island,” he scratched his chin, “and I’m not sure if they own that island.”
“Oh,” Trajan said. “Extraordinary.”
“Yes. He is that.”
They soon made port, and the opulence of the docking area befit a king. The harbor master greeted all four of the travelers as honored guests and escorted them to a carriage. After a short drive among grape vineyards and outbuildings, they were met in regal fashion by servants who bowed and led them through the great house’s entrance into a sitting room with thirty foot ceilings and tables laden with refreshments. Trajan was too overwhelmed to eat.
“My lord.” A butler bowed to Inigo.
“Please, let the master of the estate know that the Dread Pirate Roberts is in his debt and seeks an audience with Archard.”
The butler bowed with a curious look, then departed. After several minutes of awkward standing, a muffled but animated conversation came from behind the door.
“Nonsense! This is a grand event! Yes, yes, of course, my darling,” they heard, and then the double doors flung open.
Before them stood a man much younger than Westley and Inigo, but somewhat older than Trajan. He had a wide brimmed hat with a large plume and a smile to match. A lady stood by his side attired in a modest white gown but with an opposite expression – she looked almost frightened, and practically gasped at what her husband (for she was, of course, his wife) did next.
The man paused as if expecting someone else, then his smile grew even grander as a new recognition took root.
“You look dreadful!” he shouted, going straight to Inigo. “How many years has it been? And how many pounds have you gained, my beloved friend…” here he drew out the name with is French accent and rolled his eyes while smirking, “…Rahhhberts?”
“Archard,” Inigo said as he smiled and embraced the younger man.
“I can’t get over how you’ve grown. And such friends!” He surveyed the room. “You’ve bettered your company by miles. And who have we here? Please, Roberts,” another wink to Inigo, “won’t you introduce us?” Suddenly he turned to the woman beside him. “Oh, my word, where are my manners. Please, let me first introduce you to my bride, the most beautiful flower of these islands. Claudette, come, meet the most feared pirate who ever lived,” he tugged her in Inigo’s direction, “yours truly, notwithstanding.” He smiled wide.
“Mademoiselle.” Inigo bowed before taking her hand and kissing it.
“Sir,” she offered with the apprehension of a lady accustomed to placing protocol ahead of trepidation.
“And who have we here?!” Archard continued, facing Quidest. “A lady of astounding beauty, as well! Roberts, my friend, please tell me this is your lovely bride.”
“I am not his bride, but I am happy to make your acquaintance, sir,” Quidest said with a curtsey. “He has spoken of you many times.”
“Ah, my lady. The pond settles and reflects the landscape very well, indeed.”
“Am I to understand…” Claudette looked at her husband, “this is the man whom you inherited the name Roberts from?”
“And he from me,” Westley added, and bowed. “My lord, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, and may I say I’m in awe of your architecture. Such a fine balance between the rugged and the refined.”
“Ah, I recognize your face! Inigo, is this not the same Roberts whose likeness adorns every mast in Humperdink’s inept fleet?” Archard shook Westley’s hand with both of his own. “Sir, there are no heroes left in this world but one, and you are he! To the pain! Splendid!” He clapped his hands together.
“So, let me see now,” he continued, tapping his finger on his chin. “That leaves this fine young fellow.” He bowed to Trajan, who replied in kind.
“Sir. My name is Trajan. These men have brought me here in the hope that you might be willing to assist me in my quest. I seek to locate the current Dread Pirate Roberts. My intention – revenge.”
Archard held Trajan’s gaze for several seconds, then suddenly grinned, breaking the tension.
“What fun! I must hear everything.” He clapped again and turned to his wife. “But let us find more comfortable accommodations. Come now.”
Archard ushered them to a fine sitting room where two children played on a wide rug made from a colorful animal Trajan had never seen before. A string quartet played in the corner.
After Trajan recounted his story, Archard rose and paced the room. “You must confront him, yes, this is certain. My dear Inigo, what is your plan? How can I assist? When shall we depart? I’m positively bursting to make off.”
“You don’t mean to join them, my love?” Claudette asked, rising from her seat as well.
“Absolutely, and with fervor unparalleled,” he turned to Trajan, “except by you, I hope. Oh, you must be positively bursting to clash swords with him!”
Archard took Claudette’s hands. “Would you care to join us? It will be harrowing indeed, but did you see that fine ship they arrived in? I could finally take you on that trip to Polynesia you’ve always spoken of.”
“You mean, that is where we should find Roberts?” Trajan interrupted.
“Likely. There are no guarantees, of course, but I would certainly begin there.”
Claudette spoke with astonishment tinged with anger. “It would be dangerous in the extreme. You could be killed. Our children orphaned.”
“Poppycock,” Archard waved off the suggestion. “I shall be in no more danger seeking Roberts than I would be dying of heat stroke or boredom walking the vineyards. And you should come! We could bring the children, even. Pierre, Sophie! How would you like to go on a sea voyage?”
“Yay!” the children exclaimed, jumping up.
“Absolutely not,” Claudette countered, causing the children to sit and sulk.
“Good lady, Archard, friends,” Westley intervened, “please understand that we have no intention of upsetting your fine family here. We can manage quite well without Archard accompanying us, though it would certainly help when we actually do meet up with Roberts. But she is right. It will be dangerous.”
“That will only encourage him further,” a booming voice said from behind them.
“My father,” Archard introduced him with a wave.
“And these, I understand, are your predecessors.” The man’s voice dripped with exhaustion and he studied Westley. “Those Florinese have your likeness down pat. It’s a pleasure to meet you, anyway, good sir,” and he bowed to Westley.
“Papa. Please talk some sense into him. He intends to go with these gentlemen in search of the current Roberts.”
“Dearest,” he said, taking her hand, “talking sense into my son is one of the few consistent failures of my life. He has every luxury money could buy, as well as a beautiful wife and adoring children, but if the prospect of sleeping alone on an underequipped ship in pursuit of pirates lay before him, I can no more persuade him than you.”
Claudette shook her head and paced the room.
Archard made eye contact with the others and put a finger to his lips to silence them as they waited.
“Fine,” she said finally, her hands on the windowsill.
Archard smiled and rose.
“But,” she stormed toward him with fiery eyes, “I positively forbid you to die, lose a limb, or,” now she smiled and placed a hand on his cheek, “in any way disturb that dashing face I’ve come to love in spite of its place on the most stubborn head on Earth.”
She placed the other hand against his other cheek and kissed him. “When shall you depart?”
“At once!” Archard beamed and clapped.
“Perhaps,” Westley took in the surroundings, “it would be prudent to take a day or two to manage your affairs.” He made eye contact with Claudette, who nodded. “And…” he looked to Trajan, “to make room onboard for another pirate.”
Two days later the company stood on the deck of Inigo’s ship, watching Archard say his goodbyes to the family members and others in attendance. Trajan watched with sympathy as the man gave long hugs to his mother, his father, and his children, ending by taking Claudette by the hand and walking her a short distance away. He knelt and kissed her hand, then rose, pressed his forehead to hers and shared a moment of such tenderness Trajan had to look away out of fear he was imposing on something no man should be privy to.
Westley turned as well. “Touching, is it not? I admit, I miss my home so much it aches. I rarely travel anymore.”
“I’ve never been so fortunate as to experience the kind of love you men have been blessed with.”
Westley put his arm around Trajan. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
Once aboard, Archard rushed to join Westley and Trajan. “Alright, gentlemen. Let the pirate hunt begin! I’ve brought a fine assortment of wine and aged cheeses should anyone care for a mid-day morsel, and I’ve heard from a little birdie that somebody,” he nudged Westley in the ribs with his elbow, “is a grand master chess player. Fancy a match, friend? This is going to be a grand excursion.” He turned to wave at his family, then leaned over the railing and shouted, “Je pars. Mon cœur demeure!”
“What did he say?” Trajan asked Westley.
“He departs,” Westley said, then looked at Trajan, “but his heart remains.”
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