Tucked away deep in the middle of the floating barrier laid a large flat “meadow”. Slowly their movements came to a full stop grinding with a sound of wooden hull on soft grass. The sight that greeted them was both alluring and terrifying. With burning green eyes stood a tall grizzled feline witch doctor with a long staff in his hand and clothed in long flowing robes that fell to the ground.
"You are hostile and trespassers in our Woods." He said with a light growl and a purr in his voice. His words sent shivers through the crew, but the more troublesome action was one they could not explain.
Chapter 73
As the intentions were spoken the crew began to swoon and fall to the deck as if in a deep trance. Once they woke Greyy and the first mate, whose name was Henry Strongarm, were in a small hovel lined with shelves and bottles. Each was handed a cup and commanded to drink. Immediately after partaking of the vicious ale they both became violently ill. The tall Cat stood over them inspecting their condition.
When he was satisfied that they were both sufficiently distressed he began to bark questions in a rhythmic staccato purr. There was no malice or ill will in his demeanor, yet the questions brought out a terror that neither Pirate could identify. The two were completely at the mercy of their captor.
Secrets and ambitions were revealed with great degree of heartache and agony. The brew was fashioned from local herbs and spices and mixed with a low chanting spell. The outcome to the concoction was a brew that forced a deep honest glimpse into the secret desire of the heart.
Most that drank the substance were too ruined to survive the encounter. With this treatment the Tabaxi were able to best determine the heart of those who trespassed. Those who survived were allowed to return to the sea keeping the secret of the Ocean Oasis as if all a vivid dream.
After what seemed days in the presence of the Holy Man, Henry was in no condition to realize his name never mind the open seas. The true intents that had been revealed were more than he could bear and did not come easily. His secrets were a deep family legacy that he had hidden for years. For them to be revealed in front of his Captain and these strangers was beyond his ability to cope. His curse lifted allowing him to be rid of his horrible secret and in doing so became the first fatality of the damned ship.
The Captain fared better only because of her will and desire to continue; along with a pure spark of light buried deep within her soul. Greyylene lay in a low cot wracked with a fever and unable to focus her thoughts or images. She was desperate to find her way out of the muddled fog of the potent liquor.
Vaguely in her waking moments she would recall a soft paw stroking her hair as if she were a child who had awaken from a horrible nightmare and was in need of comfort. The fur was silky to the touch and left behind an oddly soothing tingle like that of a feather. A low sing song voice would echo in her blurred memory reciting verse and rhyme returning her to her youth in the classroom. Over and over the voice would recite the same words to the point that she would wake herself singing them in her sleep.
Chapter 74
Days turned into weeks as she continued to recover from the encounter of the Ale. She did not learn of her first mate until she was about to return to the vessel. Deep within her heart she knew the loss was deep yet she could summon no feelings for her downed officer. She hoped at some point she would be able to process the great sacrifices she was forced to make on behalf of a man she worked with closely yet barely knew.
She was forced to face many truths her heart had no desire to recognize in her trial by liquor. The one odd image that returned on countless occasions was the blurred face of a man. She knew it, yet could not recognize it. Fear never entered when he was there no matter how troubling the surrounding images may have been. Always when the man was there a soft glow of peace entered with him. His long robe was a soothing brown and his heart glowed with a pale blue adding to his peaceful aura. His hands showed kind and gentle, but never his face although she knew he was smiling.
The ordeal complete she was escorted back to her ship. When she stepped on deck the trees began to fade. The gentle lapping of waves against the hull brought a smile to her lips, it had been so long Greyy had almost forgotten how wonderful it sounded and how cozy the ocean felt wrapped around her ship. She was home and it was wonderful to be returned to where she belonged.
Opening the door to her cabin was like stepping into an old familiar pair of pants. Looking around she drank in all the sights and colors of each item careful to notice details in woodwork and fabrics. Touring the room her eyes dropped to an unfamiliar item of intricate beauty and craftsmanship.
On the floor at the foot of her bed was a chest. The wood and metal work was beautiful and decidedly not that of Man. As she studied the designs flashes of a memory bombarded her consciousness. The home of the Tabaxi was filled with items carrying similar designs. She carefully opened the chest, half expecting it to explode or something. In its depth were several bottles and a keg of the newly tested Savage Ale along with a note scrawled in a long elegant script explaining the lock mechanism of the chest and a warning of the misuse of the Ale.
The warning was that even a small weak amount of the brew could cause strong reactions. It was imperative that not only the making, but the serving of the drink be done properly. Consequences would be ruthless if the secret were revealed or exploited. Any variation no matter how slight would alter the brew in a manner that could irrevocably alter those who drank it.
Chapter 75
Not long after being able to walk the decks again, Captain Greyy decided it was high time to stop walking around the keg and actually investigate it. So horrible was the headache that she had sworn off strong brew all together, however, now it seemed it would be necessary to at least investigate this new concoction to see its full potential. Deciding to trust that the Tabaxi Witch Doctor had delivered a less lethal copy of the original she ordered several of the crew to try the effects of their new found potions.
A grand celebration was thrown in order to ease the tension of those who were volunteered. Rum and grog flowed free through the entire crew, and those who were the elected guinea pigs got “Savage Ale”. Carefully Greyylene watched the effects of those who had partaken to compare with the sailors who had the “good stuff”. What she saw made her smile a devilish grin that made the Quarter master a bit nervous.
It seemed that not only was the “Savage Ale” an amazing brew capable of extracting deep secrets, but it was also full of body and flavor most pleasing to a sailor’s pallet. Once those who had it were sufficiently inebriated they were brought to the Captain’s quarters for a bit of a debriefing.
All those who were gathered were asked the same question. “What is your biggest fear?” The answers provided were both amusing and intriguing. A few had fear of rats or spiders or other such mundane items, one had a fear that his “secret love for the Captain” would be revealed, but the one who intrigued her most was from the boatswain Mr. Donny Porter.
“What is your biggest fear?” She asked like she had with all the others.
“I fear the water, ma’am.” came the reply. There was a stunned silence that hung in the air for several moments before she could speak again.
“Clear the room, Kegan.” she ordered. Once all the others had left she sat opposite her crewman and studied his bloodshot eyes for any sense of clarity. Once she could speak to him and he understand her words she spoke simply of a new plan that would get him off her deep ocean vessel, yet still remain part of the crew.
The short interrogation resulted in a plan of action for the captain and a deep sleep for the crewman. She immediately went to her wall maps to study the layout of land masses and deep water ways. Markings had already been plotted to show the majority of Military activity. Her plan took shape in her mind as she turned to leave the sleeping Mr. Porter to his dreaming.
A few hours of her pouring over charts to find the most advantageous port she allowed the crew to sleep of
f their festivities as she prepared for a bit of mischief. The “Savage Ale” had proven to be a remarkable asset and would come in quite handy in order to learn more of enemy movements. For her, at this moment, the enemy was the Royal Navy. Finding a port that was out of the way, yet still guarded by Navy would be the task. Allowing her long slender finger to glide across the map following a coast line, she soon found the perfect port in which to set her devious plan into action.
Chapter 76
“Avenger” was a sturdy ship with its gun deck holding 20 cannons and the crew compliment of 250 soldiers with six officers and the Captain. It was small in comparison to others of the fleet, but it was swift and agile making it an ideal escort ship. She was a three mast sloop with crisp white sails and clean ropes. The rails were polished oak and shone like a bride on her wedding day.
The salt air was invigorating to the young deckhand Horatio Washburn. He couldn’t help himself but to smile into the crisp sea breezes that taunted the sails and splashed the fine mist of the waves onto the clean deck. Looking out at the fleet he felt a great sense of pride at being part of a great Military establishment, and finally being on the open waters. He was part of the able bodied sailors aboard ship but had no intentions of remaining in that position.
Horatio and Roland were both far too low in rank to make promotions by flaunting their nobility. Where they had high birthrights and solid pedigrees they were still considered lower class compared to the others aboard their ship. They were forced to earn rank and title by outshining the other blue bloods assigned to the “Avenger”.
The Captain, James Bishop, was a reasonable leader with a colorful past and powerful patron. The only reason he had any rank at all was due to his patron’s friendship with the Emperor. As a crusty sailor Bishop was more interested in the skill of a deckhand rather than pedigree. Each time a list of names for promotion crossed his desk he would stroll along the deck to see the actions and attitudes of those listed.
Captain Bishop practiced a routine of knowing every man that served aboard his vessel. When battles raged he would not be among the ones who found more duty in his cabin rather than on deck with the crew. He was considered hardnosed and gruff but with a level of common sense and a sixth sense of what the sea whispered that was unparalleled. When he walked the deck he looked for other men who shared that desire and ability, regardless of a patron or breeding.
Pulling out of the harbor at Admiral’s Cove heading South East to the Navy Headquarters it became apparent that the crew consisted of spoiled pampered rich kids with visions of grandeur and entitlements. Few of the deckhands had any kind of training and all had very soft hands completely unaccustomed to harsh ropes and salt water. The level of whining and crying that came at the end of each day was almost unbearable.
Chapter 77
It took two days to reach the Headquarters but in those two days the Captain had received over half the crew putting in for transfers or promotions. None of the requests had been answered and by the time they pulled into their slip most of the crew was ready to storm the Captain’s quarters. The few who did not want any part of the spoiled rich kid mutiny stood back and watched.
When Captain Bishop opened his door to a fluff riot he immediately unleashed the bull whip at his hip and let it sing across the tops of their heads. When that didn’t work he let it sing out again allowing the short forked leather strap at the end to kiss a cheek of one of the rioters. The shriek that echoed across the water one would swear belonged to a cat being cut in two by dull blades.
The sniveling young aristocrat barely holding back tears from the sting on his face brought the rest of the assembled to silence with his blood curdling cry. Small in stature and with feminine features he would have been mistaken for a woman if it were not for his uniform, and even then there was question. When he stormed up to the Captain and tried to reach his face it was more comical than frightening.
Unable to intimidate the Captain’s towering frame the deckhand tried to stand on his toes in order to get face to face with the offending officer. Teetering on tip toes and seething in anger the young recruit tried in vain to express how unfairly he was being treated but the words came out as gibberish and drool. The sting on his cheek only added to his mood and when he touched the welt that had developed tears flowed freely like a small child who had been scolded for being naughty.
With a nod of his head Captain Bishop signaled to the security he had to detain the young upstart. Binding him and trying to have him removed quietly proved to be impossible so the guard lifted the rioter by the back of his collar and carried him toward the gangplank still kicking and screaming all the way to the local jail.
When the ruckus had subsided Bishop began to pace the deck. His thundering footfalls rang out across the quiet harbor like cannon fire. The order to fall in was almost inaudible yet the response was immediate. The other rioters who were now quivering and shaking at the inspection of their commanding officer were terrified of what would happen to them now that they were secure in port.
As he passed each of the spoiled children who presumed to disrupt his ship with their temper tantrum Jack Bishop ripped the insignia from their uniform and threw it overboard. When he had finished the line he had each man put in irons and taken to the jail to await their fate with the Military Court. Over half the crew was lead off in chains leaving a skeleton crew to finish out the rest of their tour.
“Well, boys, looks like this trip will test what the rest of you are made of.” Bishop began as he inspected the rest of the crew. “I knew this was the dredges of the recruitment but I had no idea just how badly we were hurting for good officer material. I sincerely hope the rest of you greenhorn wannabes will be more productive than the others of the elite class of brats we had been given.”
“We are the least of the fleet, with the least to work with and the most to prove. None of the command wants to see any of us succeed or move in rank, in fact most are taking bets at how long it will take us to destroy ourselves or be killed in action. They would just as soon we disappear into nothing and not give any trouble.” He continued.
“I am of the mind that drifting quietly into the waves is not an option for this crew. We will perform our duties to the best of our ability and with whatever crew compliment we happen to have. You all will earn your own commission if by no other way than default. We will prove our worth and we will be noticed! If you do not wish to get your precious uniforms soiled then by all means take your leave now. I will be most happy to give fresh orders to any who speak now, otherwise you are here for the duration of your tour and you will give me the best you have to offer.”
There was a slight pause to allow for any crew to move. None moved so the Captain continued his speech.
“Our assignment is to patrol the waters between Navy Headquarters and Port Bistrot. It is a simple assignment, one given to the weak. With the rising threat of pirate activity I suspect that will change soon enough. Learn your stations well and be prepared to battle at any moment. We will prove our salt. We will be noticed. We Will Be the Best Crew On the Open Sea! Is That Understood?”
When the Captain was finished he dismissed the men for three hours shore leave and to collect supplies and give the report on the mutineers. When they were collected back on board the crew seemed quiet yet had an ease of men who belonged at sea and were ready to prove the strength in character each was capable of showing.
With a satisfied nod the order was given to make way. Roland White, Horatio Washburn along with Captain Jack Bishop took a moment to watch as the land vanished on the horizon and the next chapter in their adventure began.
Chapter 78
As a pirate any excuse for adventure, mayhem or treasure is cause for investigation. Part of what made her a good captain was the fact she had a keen nose for sniffing out productive runs. The whole crew knew that to maintain a pirate life it was necessary to find the treasures others wanted to keep hidden. Donny Porter was no exception,
even though he was terrified of the sea. She was aware of Porter’s discomfort and had no intention of prolonging his experience any more than necessary, but her desire was for one final hunt while her original crew was intact before dropping him off as her spy in the Navy Port.
Now that Greyylene knew where she wanted to plant Donny Porter her next task was to find that one last big haul. She invited a select few to join at the Navigator’s table to discuss ideas and locations. Normally those little meetings included the Navigator, Kegan, Donny, and herself, but this time some extras from the crew were able to attend. Several others with a vested interest felt the need to offer opinions. The small cabin became increasingly stuffy as more of the crew relished the idea of being included on a planning session. Each man tried desperately to peer over the shoulders of those in front in order to glimpse the general location on the maps and sea charts.
Captain Greyy had become so engrossed in the task at hand that the growing crowd around her faded into the salt mists. The look on her face made it seem as though she were sea sick, yet those closest to her knew the look of deep concentration and focus. Her hands resting on her hips with her fingers tapping the leather belt at her waist made a slight squeaking thud that only she could hear. The furrows in her brow were so deep they almost looked as if they could be planted with corn or some other crop, and the twist in her lips gave her a fishy presence.
Shoving his way through the crowd with little regard for anyone but his own agenda the Dark Elf, who had been so quiet for the past several weeks he had been thoroughly forgotten, unrolled his own map and slammed it on the table. Adding his own ornate dagger to a clearly marked spot on the parchment he announced his thoughts in a decidedly dogmatic manner causing those around him to jump and breaking the reverie of the Captain.
“Goddamit! What did you do that for?” she demanded startled at his intrusion.
“I came to show you a new heading.” He said pulling his dagger revealing a small dot on the exquisitely handcrafted linen map.