Sory for the wait, I've just been so busy! Hope you enjoy!
This was not his day, Commander Edward Wallis growled, they'd had two battles in the space of three months, and the crew and ship where exhausted, but they had finally been ordered to return home by her Majesty Queen Victoria. But now they were being boarded, by what sounded like Pirates. He had no idea how many, normally a small Pirate ship would hold around seventy-five pirates, but sources claimed that large galleons could wager up to around hundred and fifty. They were only a small ship, with withering supplies and they were running out of time to get back to England fast.
"Commander!" there was a yell from his first mate, "We've been attacked by pirates!"
"I can hear that Collison!" the furious Commander bellowed, grabbing his sword and his small lightweight barrel pistol, attaching them to his belt. "Just give me numbers,"
"We've got five on board, not sure how many are on the ship itself, but it looks like a small galleon to me,"
"Only five? We can take them,"
"But it's the Pirate Captain himself!" Commander Wallis stiffened, he'd heard about the Pirate Captain, the man who'd managed to trick himself onto her Majesty's flag ship, rescue some bird, and then sink it in a fashion so dramatic the whole thing had apparently broken in half and nearly taken every single Royal with it. "HIM? ON this ship, today of all days!" the Commander let out a frustrated yell and threw open the Captain's Cabin's door to see a dismal display of combat. He leapt up to the main quarter deck, only to see five pirates battling with his heavily armed and well trained soldiers. There was a yell over the rising winds, that seemed to be coming from the Pirate Captain himself. Commander Wallis had heard many rumours about who the Pirate Captain actually was, but standing at the bow of his ship (somewhat haphazardly) fighting off five of his crew was a tall, strong chested man, with a large auburn beard and a dark lined pirates hat sitting on his head – and wait - was that a dodo on his shoulder?
"Number Two!" he heard the yell from the Pirate, much less gruffer than he'd actually imagined. "What exactly are we here for?" (apparently he wasn't that good at pirating – so why did he have such a bounty on his head?).
"I'll get it Captain!" there was another voice, and the Commander hurried down the steps that lined the poop deck to throw himself into the battle. Startled he saw a younger pirate run past him, decked out in a royal blue pirate's jacket and a smaller blue pirate hat. Feeling courageous Commander Wallis threw himself in the way of the other pirate (who'd the Captain had called Number Two) to take him on, and protect his cargo (and his honour).
"Just try," the English man threatened through gritted teeth at the other man, he pulled out his sword and thrust it in the younger man's direction.
"Pirate with a Scarf!" there was another voice (one that sounded Surprisingly feminine).
"I can handle this Surprisingly, go check the hull with Grout," after shouting the commands to his fellow pirate the man turned back towards Wallis, and the commander swallowed, suddenly feeling very nervous indeed.
"You shall not pass," he growled out, holding his ground, and his sword pointed directly towards the other pirates chest. To his surprise the slimmer pirate actually stepped back, his hands going up in surrender.
"I really don't want to fight you Wallis," the pirates voice was as smooth as it was British. Wait, did he just say Wallis? The commander nearly dropped his sword in surprise. "I won't have any reason not to run you through," he glanced up into the ocean blue eyes that the pirate bore and wondered if he was at all recognisable. Suddenly there was a scream of a cannonball as it shot through the air and barrelled into the side of the ship, there was a dramatic sound of creaking wood as the ships hull splintered into tiny little pieces. Commander Wallis threw himself to the side to avoid the hailstorm of sudden splinters. The blue clad pirate took this moment to escape and easily leapt over the other man, making his way up to the stern of the ship, easily dodging soldiers and cannon fire. Momentarily stunned by the turn of events Commander Wallis blinked quickly to clear his head as he watched the blurred figure of the pirate enter his privet quarters – seemingly unnoticed. Where had he seen those eyes before?
He paused for thought.
And then it came to him. He'd seen those eyes (they had been much younger then), filled with fear and hatred for the person standing in front of them. If he'd remembered rightly the younger man; no he wasn't even a man let alone a young one, had been covered from head to toe in dust, grime, gunpowder and blood - the reminders of war.
It had been his cousin. A sudden sick feeling rose from the pit of his stomach and tried to make it through his throat. His cousin had turned against Queen and Country, and sort the ways of a pirate as his escape mechanism from his past.
Swearing repeatedly the Pirate with a Scarf threw open the door to the captains cabin, and slammed it shut behind him. He took a moment to regain his breath as he took off his hat and wiped his clammy forehead. He grimaced as he felt the half congealed blood from his earlier wound stick to his hand. Scrubbing his hand on his trousers his eyes flicked around the room, hoping to find what he was looking for. His eyes zoned in on the large desk in the middle of the room and he grinned, running around the other side he used his sword to easily break the locks. Wincing at the sound of the oak splintering beneath the steel he hauled the broken desk draw outwards. Grinning to himself he started pulling papers out of the draws, many were useless, but one caught his eyes. Pirate with a Scarf grabbed it and pulled it out, smirking in triumph he held the map up. When unrolled it was a map displaying where each and every dock and area of land was under Queen Victoria's control. Folding the map carefully he placed the waning parchment on the desk, before forcing the other draws open. It was much the same, and he ended getting only three maps. Frowning in disappointment he ran his hand over the wood of the last draw. Suddenly his fingers nudged against something in the wood, grabbing hold he gave it a firm tug.
To his great surprise the bottom of the draw lifted clean away, scattering pieces of paper unceremoniously across the floor. Throwing the lid to one side the Pirate with a Scarf got down onto both knees to check what was inside. His fingers pushed away more letters and a few knick knacks before he found a letter. Pulling it out he glanced at it, and was about to chuck it on the floor before he read the address on the front of the yellowing paper. , immediate postage required. It wasn't much of a address, but something tugged at him to keep the letter, turning it he saw that it was sealed with the Wedgwood family crest, pressed into ruby red wax.
Gripping the paper so hard he almost tore the letter open. How long had this been in here? Weeks, months - years even? Biting his lip he shrugged away the thought and stuffed the letter into his pocket. His eyes locked onto to a book, set precariously balanced against the hard wooden shelf. Attack strategy, Blood Island. Pulling the other documents into his arms the pirate made his way over to the shelf. Lifting the book from its resting place he flicked through the yellowing pages, there were names of ships and Captains, and there were estimates of the number of crew on board. What was this? As far as any pirate knew the Blood Island was a well kept secret, and no English ship should know of it's whereabouts, deciding to pocket the book as well the quartermaster left the captains cabin and made his way discreetly down into the hull - knowing the rest of the crew could look after themselves.
Buried in deep in the watertight hull there were barrels and barrels full of spices and exports from the Indian continent. He spotted his two other crew mates hauling loads back up onto the deck. "You were right about the loot Pirate with a Scarf!" Pirate with Gout called as he Curvaceous started hauling the stolen cargo up to the deck where the fighting was going on. Grinning back he thrust the documents into the Pirate with Gout's hands, who glanced at them surprised.
"Updated English maps," the Pirate with a Scarf answered. "There's a book that says Blood Island Attack Strategy but I'm not sure why," he paused and they all instinctively ducked out of the way as a cannonball blasted its way through the wooden hull, sending splinters of wood in every direction.
"Better get them on board then," Gout grinned and winked in the other Pirates direction, "There's silks and stuff over there, but we might get more for the spices on the foreign market,"
Scarf nodded in agreement, "Grab some of the silk as well, I'll check the rest of the hull, there's probably some gems around here somewhere,"
"Guy's can't we talk about this later?" Surprisingly Curvaceous Pirate pleaded. "This barrel's bloody heavy,"
"Right sorry Surprisingly," Gout replied, hefting the loot up the stairs to the quarterdeck, along with the maps that he safely tucked into his pocket. The Pirate with a Scarf ventured back into the hull, and started to pick through the barrels. Suddenly there were heavy footsteps, and muffled voices from near the entrance to the wooden hull. Freezing the Pirate with a Scarf bit his lip - knowing that the voices were not from his fellow crew members. Very quietly the young pirate slipped between the storage barrels and sucked in a breath.
"He's down here somewhere," a gruff tone growled. "Commander Collision said that he went below into the hull.
The Pirate with a Scarf tensed, and covered his mouth with his hand to smother the sound of his breathing.
"Yes, but where?" another voice sounded, somewhat lighter, but still rough and cold.
"Come on pirate, pirate, pirate!" the first called out to him in a mocking voice. "Come get your gold!"
The Pirate with a Scarf tried not to growl in reply - he knew that hiding was cowardly, but he also knew that he was screwed if the two marines where the men he thought they were. Even above the rain of gunfire from the quarterdeck he could still hear their heavy footsteps drawing ever closer. He dropped down to his hands and knees, shuffling backwards as quick as he could. Suddenly another cannonball shot through the hull, destroying the crates that kept the cargo safe, and exploding them into millions of tiny pieces. The Pirate with a Scarf couldn't help but let out a cry of pain as several flew past his skin and cut into his face like tiny knifes. He was flown backwards by the blast and landed awkwardly against a chest, wincing as his back bent uncomfortably over it. The sound alerted the other two British soldiers, and they quickly made their way over to him. The pirate glanced up, desperately trying to blink away his cloudy vision and reorientate himself.
"Well, well, well, looky at what we have here," the first voice sounded muffled in his ears.
"Do you recognise him McCaw? I certainly do," Pirate with a Scarf froze, just pretend you're dead , he thought repeatedly, pretend you're dead.
"So do I - think he's dead Smith?"
The voice belonging to Smith chuckled. "Lets find out shall we?" Suddenly excruciating pain shot up his arm from his hand as a heavy boot crunched down. He couldn't help but let out a gasp, and his eyes flew open. "It is! It's Wedgwood!" the largest of the two (McCaw) hoisted the pirate up into a standing position, ignoring his grunts of pain.
"Stand up boy! Lemme take a look at ya," Pirate with a Scarf knew that he was screwed beyond belief now. "Not looking quite yourself are ya Wedgwood?" the rowan haired pirate stood stiff and tall, glowering at the other two sea men with his head held high. His right hand slipped down to the hilt of his sword – his left was still screaming in pain, and he realised that it was probably broken.
"McCaw," he tilted in the other man's direction. "Smith? I don't believe we've met before, and I don't know who Wedgwood is,"
"Don't lie to us boy," the taller man hissed. "You know exactly who we are, and we know who the hell YOU are," the Pirate with a Scarf had to stop himself from letting out a worried swallow as he felt the tip of the other man's sword flick at his pirate uniform. "And what in the seven sea's are you wearing gunner? Heh, Smith look at this get up," with one movement the man moved forwards to slash the belt that he was wearing across his chest in half. As quick as lightning the Pirate with a Scarf easily blocked the sailor with his own weapon. "Well, well Wedgwood, you've certainly gotten better from the appalling swordsmanship from all those years ago – how long has it been?"
"Ten," the Pirate with a Scarf snapped. "Ten – and those years have been the best of my life,"
"Really?" the other man sneered, "And I see you've got so good with a sabre since then," the Pirate with a Scarf clenched his good had around his sword so hard that his knuckles turned a ghostly white.
Suddenly pain ricocheted through his chest as something collided into his ribs. He gasped in surprise and staggered back due to the blow. A large hand gripped the back of his scarf and hauled him upright again, forcing him to look into the coal black eyes of McCaw. The man roughly grabbed his chin and forced the Pirate with a Scarf's face close to his own. "You've got guts man," he spat, spittle running down his chin. "After you killed my brother in cold blood,"
"I didn't kill him," Pirate with a Scarf choked against Smith's hold. "Clark was my best friend – we were brothers!"
"How DARE you speak his name!" the solider roared furiously, backhanding the pirate hard across the face. The Pirate with a Scarf would have fallen hard to the floor if he hadn't been gripped upright by Smith.
"Wait!" Smith's British accent cut through the humid air like butter. "He's a pirate – won't he know the co-ordinates for Blood Island?"
"Good thinking Smith!" the sailor glanced over the pirates shoulder to his friend, before turning to the injured man. "Wedgwood, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," he paused dramatically, and the Pirate with a Scarf clenched his teeth. "You know her majesty wants to destroy the pirate scum once and for all - and you can help just with that - just tell us the way, and I'm sure that she'll reward you, richly,"
"Never," the pirate spat. "I'll never talk!" as he expected another hand struck him, but this time it was at the back of his head. Shocked and dizzy the young pirate fell to the ground on all fours, dropping his sword as he did so. He reached out for the weapon but it was kicked away, sliding across the wooden floor and clinkering to a stop.
"I don't think that we'll be needing that," he brought his fist and smashed it into the Pirate with a Scarf's jaw, sending him skidding across the hull, ribs cracking he slumped painfully against a hard crate. Scarf tried to stand, his muscles singing with pain, every blood vessel and sinew calling out in a desperate choir. As he got shakily to his hands and knees, his battered body collapsed and he fell again onto his elbows, looking up through a haze of blood and sweat that was cascading down his face. Outside he could dimly hear the deafening sound of cannonballs dwarfed intermittently by the crack of thunder as mother nature raged her own war on the two vessels.
"Come on then sea rat," this time it was Smiths voice. "Give us your best shot," the pirate tried to force himself upright, but his body failed to listen to his brain and he fell again, only able to support himself with his uninjured hand. "Pathetic," he felt a heavy toe of a boot thump into his sides, sending him sprawling across the floor, coughing as his ribs cracked under the sudden pressure. "Fight!" There was more pain as a second foot crunched across his body and the Pirate with a Scarf couldn't help but cry out.
Suddenly he saw something glitter - it was his sword - he reached for it, but McCaw's boot pressed on his good wrist, and he winced, biting his tongue to keep the cry of pain at bay. "Looky here, Wedgwood I can do this all day," he crouched down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, tilting his face to his. Time seemed to slow for the Pirate with a Scarf as he felt the man's sword press into his neck, nipping dangerously at the skin just below his Adam's apple. "Come on lad," the voice was soft and mocking. "Tell me – and we can end this," he sent a wicked grin his way eyes locking with Scarf. "Or more importantly you," the sword was tilted and the sharp blade pressed against his warm skin.
Oh. He was going to die, a odd panicked adrenalin shot through him, oh Neptune, please no! A numb sensation swept through his veins – as if his body was already shutting down in preparation – and his vision started to blur as tears he was trying to keep down started to seep from his eyes.
"Aww is the powder monkey crying?" the man teased.
"Not. Scared. Of. Death," he gasped out, the shattered ribs making it hard to talk. "Never. Going. To . See. My. Crew," he trailed off, leaving the fact that he was never going to be able to tell his beloved Pirate Captain about how he felt.
"Shame, we'll slaughter them as well,"
"NO!" he tried to shout, but it came out as a strangled gasp. He flinched as the blade was dragged back, ready for the final blow -
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" there was a very recognisable roar came from the steps of the hull and grainy half suddenly light spilled from the open door and into the dark and dingy storage room. Pirate with a Scarf twisted in the other man's grip to see none other than the Pirate Captain himself standing silhouetted in the doorway, his expression thunderous and his normal oak brown eyes a deep and furious coal black. The injured pirate couldn't help but let a smile slip across his lips as the two stunned Brits glanced shocked towards the door to see the infamous Captain standing there in all his glory. "I said. Get. Away. From. HIM!" every word was punctuated with a heavy step, the stairs creaking ominously under his weight. His unsheathed sword was dulled by the dark room – but it didn't loose any of it's threat. To his great surprise the Pirate with a Scarf saw Smith scramble back, gripping his sword with determined air, before lurching to attack.
With one easy movement the Pirate Captain threw out his arm and the shorter blacked haired man was flung across the room, body cracking against the wooden wall and slumping into unconsciousness, his whole figure going deathly limp. The Captain's heavy boots seemed to smother every other noise as they thumped against the aged floor. "Do I have to repeat myself?" his voice was deathly low. "Let. Go. Of. HIM!"
"What like this?" McCaw forced the Pirate with a Scarf upright, and the pirate couldn't help but let out a cry of pain.
"Stand down!" the Pirate Captain bellowed, voice pained and furious.
"Oh - I think I won't," McCaw edge him onwards.
"I think you will," the other man growled and flicked out a wicked looking pistol. "Now I'm more prone to running people through, but I don't mind shooting people in the head either,"
At this McCaw did have the gall to tense, and he snarled. "This man abandoned his queen and country, killed my brother! And you expect me to let him go?"
"Captain-" the Pirate with a Scarf choked out, feeling the blade press dangerously into his neck.
"You didn't heed my warning!" the other pirate bellowed.
Suddenly there was a gun shot, and a bullet barrelled past his cheek and buried itself into the soldier's shoulder. The man let out a anguished cry of pain and kicked the Pirate with the Scarf away. He flew forwards and was about to crunch painfully onto the floor, but the Pirate Captain caught him, hauling him gently up onto his feet, his face pulling itself into a shocked frown at the other pirate. "Number Two," he reached up and touched the younger man's face gently with his calloused hand, and the other man flinched away from the soft caring brush of his thumb.
"Captain," he croaked, voice sore and exhausted. He took a step forwards, nearly tripping over his own feet and falling again, but the Captain caught him easily, and pulled him close so he couldn't stumble a second time. The elder man took his shoulders gently and looped his arms around his shoulders and took his waist, easing him up the stairs. The Captain suddenly paused, and the younger man looked at him surprised.
"Wait here," the pirate commanded, letting his quartermaster lean against the wooden wall of the hull. In several quick strides he moved over to the back of the hull and picked something up. The Pirate with a Scarf couldn't help but smile as he was handed back his sword.
"Thanks," he murmured, his voice still painfully rough. The Captain grinned, glancing around the destroyed remains of the hull and the two men who were slumped on the floor, one still bleeding profusely and the other still out unconscious. Together they made their way slowly up the stairs and back onto the upper deck, whenever the Pirate with a Scarf stumbled the Captain hauled him gently upright. The wind and the rain had picked up to threatening levels, and the gusts caused the ships to be drenched in sea water as the waves crashed over onto the decks.
"Captain!" it was Grout's voice bellowing over the wind. "We've got to get off this ship the-" he stopped momentarily as he saw the state that his quartermaster was in, and then continued. "If the rigging gets tangled we're in for it!"
"I agree Pirate with Grout, get everyone off the ship and away as quickly as possible!"
"Aye, eye Captain!" the man saluted and limped off, still fighting the other navel soldiers.
"You!" there was a yell and the two pirates turned surprised towards the sound of the male voice. "Dammit Wedgwood – I hoped to the high sea's it wasn't you!"
"Number Two what's he-" the Captain started.
"A pirate really – that's how you escape everything that happened? Mutiny to your own country?" Suddenly the world tilted, and the Pirate Captain lost his firm (but gentle) grip on his quartermaster as the ships started a deadly entangled dance. The Pirate with a Scarf stumbled and clutched onto the rail that lined the ship as sea water sprayed up into his face. "Captain!" he called out in panic as he saw the pirate slip away, scrambling on the wet deck.
"Now I have you!" the Commander thundered, and leapt forwards. The Pirate with a Scarf let out a surprised yell and swung low to avoid the sword that came sweeping downwards. Whipping his own sword from it's sheath he parried the blow, sparks flew as the two swords crashed together, biting at each other as friction won over. The Pirate with a Scarf's pain was momentarily forgotten as a second surge of adrenaline swept through him. The pirates arms shook with the strain of holding back the other sailor. "Why would you do this to our family?" he yelled furiously. Bringing the swords out of their lock and attacking again.
"I have no family!" the over-energised Pirate with a Scarf replied. Once again slipping on the wet wooden deck.
By now the ships had become so entangled it was starting to look impossible to tear them apart. They had both started to fall inwards in dangerous angles, sinking into the frothing sea. The wind was so strong it was starting to tear the sails, and the lightning was dancing around, casting the battle in intermittent bursts of bright electrical white light.
"Give it up Wed-"
"Don't say that name again!" the Pirate with a Scarf thrust his next blow forwards, continuously trying to outwit the opponent that was bettering him.
"Number Two!" the Captain's voice could be heard over the raging winds. "We've got to get off this ship – she can't take any more strain!"
"On it Captain!" the other man replied, arms struggling to hold back his attacker. "You go! I'll follow!"
"Just go!" the quartermaster cried, glancing up to where the riggings of the two ships where horribly tangled, there was already several English soldiers trying to untangle the intertwined sails. The conversation between captain and quartermaster had momentarily distracted the commander and the Pirate with a Scarf took this opportunity to kick him away, not looking back as he skidded along the deck. With expert ease the lean pirate hastily climb the HMS Minden's rigging, reaching the top to see that the real danger was caused by the ropes being hopelessly entangled. Gripping the rope with his good hand the pirate balanced precariously, wincing as he gripped his faithful sword in his injured one and started to tear through the offending ropes.
He swung dangerously as the ships tilted even more due to the weight and gravity determined to bring them under. After what seemed like forever the pirate managed to free the last of the ropes, and watched through the rain as his own ship was flung outwards as it was released from the tight grip. Wincing as he saw Surprisingly flying and smacking against the deck. The whole world spun dangerously as he started to loose his grip on the ropes. Hastily he started to climb down the mast, swallowing the bile and blood that was rising up his throat. In the distance he heard a yell.
"Get that Pirate!" in the back of his mind he was presuming that they were talking about him. He paused, glancing over at his own ship, and wondering if he could make the jump.
"Pirate with a Scarf!" there was a yell over the wind and he turned to see the young Albino balancing on the edge of his crow's nest. "Grab the rope!"
Thinking it was the best idea that he'd had all day the exhausted pirate nodded, and waited for the blond boy to throw it over. Suddenly bullets raced past him and he looked down, seeing a furiously scowling (and still bleeding) McCaw. "I'll kill you Wedgwood!"
"Now Albino!" he commanded the pirate, nodding the boy threw the rope over to the other ship. The Pirate with a Scarf took the leap of faith. As he threw himself down to the rope he saw that McCaw was preparing to take another shot at him, he glanced up to see his dangling life line, and stretched out both hands to grab it.
Pain suddenly shot through his shoulder, and he let out a cry as he realised the bullet had skimmed across his skin and buried itself into his hat. He lost sight of the rope, and gravity got its hold on him.
And then he was falling, the sea rushing towards him with incredible speed. The numbing sensation it him hard as he fell against the stone cold water and his consciousness finally lost the battle.