An Assortment Of Pirates
Watching Archard play the violin with such perfect fury was just another in a long line of amazements that characterized Trajan’s days. The music was new to him, and he found himself lost in admiration for the man who played it. Be it a merry dance tune for the deckhands after a stout meal and an even stouter ale, or a slow melody on deck accompanying a sunrise over the expanse of sea, Trajan was in heaven whenever Archard played.
As the song reached its crescendo, Trajan looked to the sea and noticed a ship unlike any he had ever seen, and he pulled out his spyglass.
The deck was crowded with men looking back at him. These were not the faces of professional sailors; Trajan saw scarred and bearded men, smiling men with weapons in their hands and a look of dastardly anticipation of some foul intent.
“Pirates,” he said to himself. Then he yelled, pointing, “Pirates! Off the port side, bearing down on us.”
Westley and Inigo were beside him at once, but Archard played on.
“Yes. They come quickly,” Inigo said.
“Is it Roberts?” Trajan asked anxiously.
Westley took the spyglass from him and studied the ship.
“Roberts would never sail in a pathetic dinghy such as that,” Inigo said. “The Revenge is a masterpiece. Its timbers are as stout as a dragon and its ropes alone are worth more than that child’s toy.”
“Well, friend,” Westley closed the spyglass. “I suppose you’ve found some pirates at any rate, though not of the caliber you seek.”
“They look formidable to me,” Trajan said.
“Oh, they are, I don’t doubt,” Westley said. “Would you like me to go below deck again and take another nap?”
“No. Please. I don’t think it would be wise.”
The ship was closer now, close enough to make out its details.
Inigo muttered, “I’ll bet their ship stinks of rotten turnip.”
“You must excuse him,” Westley said to Trajan. “The Revenge was one of his only true loves. I dare say he only agreed to come along for the prospect of seeing her again. Do I speak correctly?”
“I come to kill pirates. Seeing my beautiful ship again,” Inigo unsheathed his sword and smiled, “is a mere cherry on the top,” he said, practicing his fencing stance.
The music ceased and Archard handed his instrument to one of the deck hands. “Do be a good chap and exchange this for me! Now, let’s see.” He looked toward the other ship. “Wait,” he said to the deckhand. “Westley, do you suppose we have time to uncork a chardonnay before we begin?”
“Not likely, I’m afraid.”
“Pity.” Archard waved at the deckhand. “My sword then, and please, if you would also be so kind as to retrieve an apple or two. I’m afraid this may delay lunch for a spell.”
Trajan turned away from the ship and looked at his companions: Westley with his arms crossed, leaning against a mast. Inigo leaning slightly forward with a steely gaze, his hand on the hilt of the six-fingered sword. Archard picking hairs off his sleeve and smoothing the wrinkles from his jacket.
“How do we know they intend to harm us?”
Inigo answered for them. “You think they approach us at ramming speed because they want to ask directions?”
“Must we kill them all?”
“If we don’t,” Archard said, “they will surely kill us. It’s what pirates do.”
“What part are you on?” her father asked from the doorway.
His daughter paused and laid the open book on her chest. She blinked.
“What?”
“What part are you on? It looks like you’re flying right through it. Do you like it?”
She thought for a moment.
“Why don’t they have pistols?”
“What?”
“The Florinese ships have cannons. Wouldn’t the pirates have pistols, then? Pirates always have pistols.”
“This was after cannons, but before pistols.”
“Oh.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? And remember, it’s just a story.”
The pirate ship was barely within shouting distance and Trajan stood waiting with Inigo at his side. “So, we will leave none alive?”
“Weeell,” Inigo answered for the others, “we shall see.”
Trajan glanced at Inigo. “I thought the Dread Pirate Roberts never left anyone alive.”
“Legend,” Westley said. “Never underestimate the power of reputation. Paying a man will achieve his silence much easier than killing him.”
“Indeed,” Archard agreed. “I told dozens of men that they were the first I had ever spared. You’d be surprised how loyal men become when they believe you’ve allowed them a second chance at life.”
“True indeed,” Westley said. “I’ve got a life oath from most of the people you encountered when you docked on my island. And I’m rather chummy with most of the major port officials around the Horn of Africa.”
“I acquired the best valet in that manner. His taste is impeccable,” Archard added. “All of my best chefs were relieved from the vessels I sank, mostly Portuguese and Italian royal expeditions. They always had the best wine.”
“Is this your experience as well?” Trajan said to Inigo.
“Eh, I was only really interested in single combat. Piracy provided such unique travel opportunities. Plus, Fezzik would mainly just scare them into jumping overboard, so unfortunately there wasn’t much in the way of fighting.”
Trajan watched the ship approach, now within hailing distance. “So perhaps it will not come to blows after all?”
But as he said this, a white puff emanated from the pirate’s cannon, followed by the sound of a cannonball tearing into the side of Westley’s ship above the water line, sending splintering wood airborne.
Ten feet to his left he heard the twang of a crossbow. He turned and saw Quidest up near the steersman, handing the weapon to a deck hand to reload. She picked up another and fired. “Come on now,” she said to the men. “No use waiting till they’re on deck.”
“I want to do them in with the sword!” Inigo protested. “Darling, you will get to use your sword plenty.” She took another shot, causing a third pirate to fall dead over the side of the approaching ship. “But let’s cull the herd a little first. I’ve got to punch down my bread soon.” She fired again.
“Thank you,” Westley said, taking a crossbow from a deckhand.
A volley of arrows flew past them, mostly overshooting the ship entirely but for two that stuck in the beams. The pirate ship rammed them with a glancing blow that caused everyone on both ships to stumble.
Pirates tossed grappling hooks onto Westley’s ship as other swung onto it by ropes, and still others threw ladders across the narrowing expanse. A horde charged across it.
Trajan fought the first pirate who swung across, dispatching him before his feet even touched the deck. To his left, another swung a spiked club at his head, but he ducked out of the way as Westley thrust a sword into the attacker.
“So sorry,” he offered to the fallen pirate as Westley pulled the sword from his chest, then turned to face another. With three swift motions he struck down two more with an accompanying, “Goodbye now.”
“Come on! Come!” Inigo urged the pirates who flooded across, from his position at the end of the largest ladder. He took out a pirate with a quick upstroke, then another on his downstroke. He moved to his right as the pirates continued to invade, and soon had his back to Westley’s. They were quickly swarmed, and Trajan retreated several steps to the port side of the ship. A slight panic rose in him as Inigo and Westley disappeared within a crowd of pirates and still more leaped and swung aboard.
It was at that moment that Trajan first noticed someone was singing a jaunty tune near him. Archard jumped onto a crate with a short pirate sword in each hand and took out two men – his own sword had still not left its sheath. He stopped his song long enough to say, “Trajan, lad. Move to your left a little,” but Trajan was tackled by large pirate. “Too late,” he shook his head, “You must learn to be more nimble.”
Losing his sword in the scuffle, the pirate straddled Trajan, punched him twice in the face and pulled back for a finishing blow. It never landed, as Inigo pierced him from the side then kicked him away from Trajan. “There now. Back to it,” Inigo smiled and rushed away.
Trajan reeled from the blows and struggled to get back to his feet, searching for his next foe. He watched Inigo and Westley cutting down pirates in one direction, and in the other Quidest had retreated up the stairs and was sniping pirates from her elevated position. A deckhand calmly reloaded for her.
Westley moved to the bow, fencing two pirates at once. He dispatched them both and, noticing Trajan, he bowed to him and then engaged another.
A pirate swung down from the ropes and nearly landed on top of Trajan, who scrambled and struck him with a blow. Another heavier pirate began taking broad strokes at him with a wide cutlass and Trajan spun to avoid them. He disarmed him and they locked eyes. He suddenly heard Pilbrick’s voice in his head.
Show no mercy. Give no quarter. As soon as you drop your guard, a pirate will pull some clever trick and you’ll be dead before you know what happened.
But now, faced with the matter, the Guilderian gentlemen in him found he was unable to finish off an unarmed man.
“Surrender,” he said, pointing his sword at the pirate’s chest.
The battle raged around them. Distracted by the numerous threats, Trajan took his eyes off the pirate for a millisecond. The brigand swirled around on his knees, pulled two daggers out of his boots and was upon Trajan from behind, slashing at his back. Trajan reeled in pain but before he could react the pirate fell dead next to him.
“You really must consider sharpening your blade, my good chap,” Archard said to the fallen pirate. Then turning to Trajan, he said, “You had him dead to rights, you know. Show no quarter to these types.”
“Yes, I…I hesitated.”
“And got a right good sting for the courtesy,” Archard examined Trajan’s back. “No time to bleed now, I’m afraid.” He stood casually in spite of the clang of swords all around them and asked, “Has anyone ever taught you how to fight pirates?”
Trajan was utterly distracted by the chaos. “Yes, I think,” he said, fending off another attack as Archard watched. Trajan killed his foe and was surprised to see Archard taking a bite of an apple. “I just…he was unarmed.”
“Was he?” Archard teased, tossing away the apple core. “Pirates are never unarmed, my lad. If they have teeth – or tooth, as is equally likely – they will kill you with it.”
“Yes,” Trajan admitted, huffing from exertion. “I understand that now.”
“If you’ve finished your snack, would you care to join us?” Quidest asked from above.
Across the deck they could hear shouting. “I am Inigo Montoya! You come at me with toothpicks!” punctuated with the chimes of his blade as the bodies piled up around him.
Two pirates rushed Archard and Trajan, and they paired off. Something caught Archard’s eye and he paused in mid stroke, looking at his pirate’s feet.
“Those are wonderful boots. Did you obtain them in the Orient?”
The pirate grumbled and looked at his own feet.
“I might try those on if you’ll not be needing them later,” Archard said, finishing him off.
Trajan locked onto his adversary, surprised that the man could fence almost as well as he. It took almost a full minute to dispatch him, after which he scanned for the next foe and saw two chasing Quidest as she ran below deck, but another came up on Trajan.
“Inigo!” Trajan pointed to her just before blocking the pirate’s blow.
Inigo acknowledged and ran in that direction but was hampered by more blocking his way.
In the galley, Quidest was cornered. She lowered her scimitar and put her hand on her hip.
“Gentlemen, I implore you to consider your predicament.”
The mostly toothless pirates laughed. “What predicament?”
“That you’re fighting a hopeless battle against some of the most dangerous men who ever sailed. Haven’t you noticed how many of your comrades they’ve already slain? Take a look,” and she motioned up toward the stairs.
The pirates looked over their shoulders in that direction.
“Now be good chaps and surrender, and I’ll make sure you get a hot meal for a change.” She turned and began to stir her soup.
The pirates looked at each other and sniffed the aroma from the pot.
Inigo’s sword slashed them both to the floor as Quidest casually stirred the pot. “Thank you, dear,” she said not looking up from her work. “It did take you rather longer than I’d hoped, though.”
“There were four men in my way!”
“I forgive you, my love.” She added a pinch of salt to the pot. “How much longer do you plan to play with your friends up there?”
Inigo looked up to the deck and the battle, “I think…perhaps ten more minutes?”
“Okay. Do hurry it up though.”
Back on deck, Archard, Westley, and Trajan were backing the remaining pirates up against the starboard railing.
One pirate slipped to his right, blocked Trajan’s sword with his crossed knives and kicked Trajan in the stomach, buckling him over and slashing his sword away. Trajan rolled and kicked the pirate’s legs out from under him, making him drop one of his knives. The two men wrestled, the remaining knife between them, but the pirate’s strength was much greater than Trajan’s.
Inigo stepped up on deck and almost stepped on him. He kicked the pirate in the head, allowing Trajan to wrench the knife away. He tossed it overboard and regained his feet and his sword but Inigo had already finished the job.
Westley saw them and smiled, then lowered his sword to address the remaining pirates.
“Let us have a pause, shall we?”
The pirates blinked.
“Now, go ahead and catch your breath. We will be happy to take your surrender and consider terms. Do you agree?”
At the word surrender, the pirates raised a rough cry. “Never!”
“Good fellows. We have you surrounded.” Archard laughed and motioned for the pirates to turn around.
The twelve pirates turned and saw a slightly overweight old man and a wounded, bloody lad facing them with swords drawn. They scoffed.
“Pity.” Westley leveled his sword. “Well, Trajan, my lad. I tried to reason with them.”
“Yes,” Trajan shouted back. “I see that.”
Archard and Westley clashed swords with two pirates, then two more, always moving the remaining pirates backward.
On the other side, Trajan and Inigo did the same so that the circle of twelve pirates slowly subtracted into a smaller circle of eight, then an even smaller circle of four. Finally, only two were left for Westley and Trajan, and Archard and Inigo lowered their blades.
Westley paused. “Ahem.” He gestured for the pirate to look around.
The pirate paused and saw he and his companion were the only two left. Archard bowed and smiled. Inigo wiped his blade and shook his head. Trajan paused his attack.
The pirate patted his companion on the back, and he also paused. They shared a look of fear and then leaped over the edge and back onto their own ship.
Inigo rolled his eyes and followed them, casually stepping across the ladder to the pirate ship.
“Shall we assist him?” Westley asked Archard after wiping his own blade and watching Inigo slowly descend below the pirate ship’s deck.
“Board a pirate ship?” Archard said, incredulous. “I should think not. I’d hate to imagine how their foul smells would taint this jacket.” Archard brushed his sleeve.
“You’re right, of course,” Westley agreed.
They watched as Inigo moved the pirates back up on deck at sword point, then across the ladder between the ships.
“So he spared a couple, at least,” Trajan said.
“Oh, not remotely,” Westley answered. “We just need someone to clean up this mess.”
Inigo supervised the remaining pirates as they tossed their fallen comrades overboard, as his own deck hands were busy dousing buckets of water over the bloody timbers.
“Now how about that chardonnay?” Archard asked.
“Noooo, I think a perhaps a pinot noir would pair better with the oily fish appetizer we had earlier,” Westley said, and patted Archard on the back.
“Ah yes, you are my superior in all things. Come, Trajan, let us not spoil this day with the stench of dead pirate.” Archard paused as he looked up. “Isn’t that cloud formation overhead lovely?” They disappeared toward the galley.
“What will we do with the prisoners when they’re finished cleaning?” Trajan asked Westley quietly.
“Likely send them back to their ship…and set fire to it.”
Trajan stared at the men and wondered exactly how his father had died, whether it was in valiant battle against pirates like these or in a more ruthless manner. He felt no pity for the pirates he’d killed; the men undoubtedly had the blood of many, possibly hundreds, on their hands. But neither did he gain any solace from the justice dispensed on them. He watched them toss the bodies overboard and thought about his father, his mother, and his siblings. “Yes,” he agreed. “Burn it,” and Trajan went to the galley as well.
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