In Sunshine or in Shadow, Chapter 1: Thus the story begins
In Sunshine or in Shadow, Chapter 1: Thus the story begins
Lives…
Some are rich and lavish, some are in poverty. Some will start a family, some will chose to live alone. Some are happy, others not so much. But each is unique, like its own special footprint on the Earth.
Most people will only live once; 67 years is the average.
As for me, I've had a few. Too many perhaps, more than anyone ever should. I've had lives of poets, musicians, and even royalty. None of which were worth remembering.
However, this time, I was about to embark on completely different, something I'd never even considered before. It would both rejuvenate and destroy me at the same time. It was excitement, adventure, danger, and horror woven together. During sleepless nights it would haunt me, and during heartfelt days, send me soaring like nothing ever before. But only one thing was for certain, there was no looking back, only forward.
Because this time, I was living as a pirate…
"Ha! I knew it!" Arthur jolted at the interjection. "I knew you had to be immortal!"
"Now now, Peter," Arthur sighed, trying to calm the young boy down from his clamor. "Let's not jump to conclusions. I never said I was immortal, did I?"
"But…but…then how did you live so many lives? You have to be immortal, right?"
"Just listen to the story, lad. You'll understand later."
The boy frowned before coming to a quiet agreement. "Fine. But you better tell me!"
My story begins on a day quite like today. The year was 1572, right in the middle of the harsh chills and rains of November. With a struggling economy, and innumerous threats of invasion from both East and West, things were looking quite bleak for England. In last hope of bringing some peace and prosperity to this the country, I was knighted Sir Arthur Kirkland under the reign of her majesty, Queen Elizabeth. The very next day, I was to set sail through the Atlantic in search of new land and gold.
She sure was a grand ship - the Pelican. Standing tall and proud, the 80 by 40 foot beauty was exactly what I needed for this expedition. That plus a small crew of four carefully selected men and my first mate, Francis Bonnefoy, I was more than ready to set sail.
…
Everything had to be perfect.
That was the only thought that raced through my head while I sat on the stern. My legs were crossed firmly, almost as if they had been rooted to the wooden planks of the ship. After 12 long days at sea, my destination was finally drawing near. I could almost smell it, the sweet scents of victory forthcoming my way. In a couple hours would come early dawn, and with it the landing of the ship on the shores of Ellesmere Island. With a small candle for lighting, I glanced nervously between the compass in my hand and the stretched out map on the ground. Gently gliding my index finger, I retraced the summation of the journey, focusing on a distinctive small town on the coast. Vigorously and almost obsessively, I made notes in between the margins, with a feathered, inked pen. Only on small occasions, I would pause for a break - but only to wipe some perspiration off my face, which was starting to become unbearable.
The waves were rocking and gently lulling the ship as they splashed against the sides, almost creating a peaceful melody. Sitting high up on the balcony, I couldn't help but let a rare smile pass across my lips. Such moments of tranquility were difficult to find-especially with people, such as the monkeys I had for a crew, around. I had only begun to enjoy the quiet night, only to have it suddenly and rudely interrupted.
"Oi, Arthur. I thought I'd find you up here," hollered a distinctive voice as the corresponding face made its way towards closer to its destination. With a lazy slump, a long haired Frenchman had plopped himself right next to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You know, you really should get some sleep, mon ami. You'll need it, especially for what's forthcoming later."
"Same goes for you," I spoke harshly, but with a quiet tone. "Don't tell me you're not at all nervous about this."
"Ah, non. What's there to be nervous about?" the bearded man reassured, letting out a light chuckle. "You're just the same as always-worrying too much about every single minuscule thing. But isn't everything already perfectly planned to order? You even said so this evening. Come on. If it makes you feel any better, go ahead and review them with me. I'm all ears, mon cher," he offered.
"Yes, yes." I replied, cringing at the overtly suggestive note at the end. But still, I was honestly thankful to have someone open for discussion. "Let's see here…We're going to land, precisely at 5:30 sharp. Ian and Awstin, along with you and I will set a few fires, make some noises to cause a distraction on the North side of the village," I pointed, circling the precise part of the map. "And when everyone in the tribe is distracted and scrambling towards the racket, Patrick and Seamus will kidnap a little girl named Laila - Chief Jaaku's one and only surviving granddaughter. It doesn't get much simpler than that. We hold her for ransom. And exchange for his precious granddaughter's freedom, her rich pappy will have to turn over all his wealth and belongings to us."
"See," he responded, with a smirk. "You have it all cited and planned. There's nothing to worry about. And if things turn out badly, there's always the famous French way of surrendering; we drop everything and run for our lives!" Francis exclaimed, waving his hands in a rather dramatic matter, as if begging for mercy.
My face immediately fell in irritation. "You're not helping anymore, frog," I hissed. "And that's the exact problem! There's no room for failure here! Especially since it's my first mission! What would the Queen think of me if I can't even steal from a ninety year old man?"
Francis sighed, spontaneously halting his acting and dropping his voice down a notch. "Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, with a bit more compassion. "I understand the pressure and how hard this is for you. The whole crew's mildly nervous too, to speak truthfully. It's the first time for all of us. But I can guarantee getting a few hours of sleep will produce much better results than just fumbling and stressing on the deck over here."
Reluctantly, I nodded. "Well, alright. You do have a point then. Go catch a few winks yourself. I am expecting everyone up and ready at a quarter to four. Got it?"
"Yes Sir, Captain Kirkland!"
…
"Awwwe, man! That's so boring!" Peter rudely butted in with a loud whine. "When is this going to get exciting? That mission sounds so stupid! Don't tell me you guys didn't even kill anyone! And that French guy sounds like a total sissy."
Arthur's eye twitched, annoyed at the interruption. "You'll see. You'll see. Just wait for me to get to that part, lad," he bided.
"B-but you haven't told me anything yet! You guys haven't done a thing besides chat! How did you get so strong and powerful anyway? And c'mon! Tell me if you're immortal already!"
The Englishman scowled, taking a small sip at his tea before speaking again. "Look here, boy. Do you want to hear more of the story?"
"Y-yes…But-"
"Then shut your trap and let me talk!"
"Okay, okay. I'm listening." Peter grumbled, propping himself idly against the table
…
The first rays of the early dawn broke through the crevices of my room as well as the minuscule, restless slumber I had finally managed to get. My head felt surreal and my stomach in knots-though I hated to admit it, Francis was right. I could have used the extra sleep last night. But that aside, there was no time for walloping. I had a job to do and the wealthy Nordic village wasn't bound to rob itself.
Hastily, I slipped on a collared shirt and a plain pair of trousers. I frowned at my appearance on the mirror nearby. It didn't feel complete. Something was missing, or at least it felt until I spotted a long, crimson coat on my dresser. I glanced at it curiously. It was perfect, almost emulating an aura of power and authority; and that was exactly what I needed.
For extra measures, I grabbed my sword from its hanger. The silver blade glistened brightly until I slit it back into its sheath. Razor sharp and deadly, a simple mishap could send someone straight to hell. The very idea sent shivers down my spine and I never wanted to go to that extent.
To my surprise, I was the last to arrive on deck.
I was greeted by a grinning Francis. His long hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, which was something I noticed he'd do whenever he was expected to work. "Bonjour, tête somnolente," he mockingly accosted in his native tongue. For that, I sent him a sharp glare. He seemed to get the message.
Ian, the token Scot, was leaning proudly against a barrel full of flammables and explosives, which left Awstin, the Welshman, looking slightly terrified as he promptly tried to leave the scene, scrambling under Ian's grasp.
"Chill, Capt'n. We got this." Patrick, the eldest of the red-haired twins assured me, his hands fumbling nervously with the dagger in his hand. From the unsteady motion, I was certain the lad had never used a weapon before. "Isn't that right, bro?"
Seamus gave an agreeing nod, looking as experienced as his brother.
I sighed. Without even setting foot off the ship, it felt as if we were doomed for disaster. "Very well, then. I expect a quick, clean job from all of you. Whatever happens, do not harm the villagers. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir!"
The village was peaceful and quiet, all its inhabitants still fast asleep. The huts were lined up in neat little rows, their doors absent with a large opening for any villager or intruder to pass. The atmosphere was latent with the smells of smoked meat from a previous meal. The village was entirely relaxed, confident that no harm was ever to come upon them. It seemed homely, almost reminding me of my hometown in England. For one moment, I almost felt disgusted with what I had to do. The people living there were much like I had been.
However, I had to go through with it. Getting sentimental over my first robbery was not going to further my status as a pirate.
Patrick and Seamus had already headed out, seeking the Chieftain's grand daughter.
It was our turn; carefully, I set out along the shoreline, shuffling as I walked around the layout of the village. Francis, Ian, and Awstin followed closely behind me, all quiet and careful not to wake anyone up. The whole entire tribe was small, and it only took a few minutes to reach the opposite end.
I lit a flare, waving it in the air to signal to the twins that we were ready. A few seconds later, an affirmative response from the opposite end marked that everything was set to go.
Francis and I grabbed ourselves a lighter, pressing the fire making device against some flammable pieces of wood. When the wood started to burn, we carefully placed the pieces into the shrubbery nearby. Gently, I blew on the fires, the flames glowing bright orange with fuel. I kindled the bushes, until they had become blazing, strong fires, and began coughing with my next inhale. Our activity had formed a thick, black cloud of smoke above our heads.
A loud boom shattered the air. Up ahead, Ian gave a friendly wave. The explosives had been detained. In a split second, the village went from tranquil to bustling with screaming, worried voices. It had provided the perfect diversion we needed, as all the waking villagers scrambled outside, trying to forecast their predicament.
The four of us scrambled towards the village center where we were to meet up with Patrick and Seamus, along with our precious hostage. The villagers ran past us, hardly noticing our presence. With buckets of water in their hands, they were much too preoccupied with putting out the fires.
"Mission accomplished, Captain!" Seamus laughed, his sword pressed against the terrified girl's neck. She was hardly older then 10, her large brown eyes bulging as she stood still with fear.
Laughing, I rested a hand on her trembling shoulders. "Be a good girl, will you? And if Grandpa cooperates, nobody gets hurt," I threatened with my most menacing voice.
She remained silent, only glaring at me with pure hate.
As planned, within the next minute, the villagers were beginning to realize the fire wasn't their biggest threat. Rushing back like a stampede of cattle, their faces were worried and fearful.
Not long after, would the Head Cheif arrive as well. With the steady prodding of his cane, the elderly man stood up. "I've always feared that a day like this would come." He spoke sadly, but in a calm tone. "But I assure you, if it's power or wealth you wish to obtain, you will not be getting any while I am alive."
Though his hair was grey, his skin wrinkled and his knees knobby with age, I was a bit impressed with his courage. "Very well, you stubborn old fool. But I'm sure your pretty granddaughter would like to say otherwise." I signaled to Seamus, who pressed the blade tighter against the girl's neck. "Give us supplies, and all the wealth you hold in your pathetic little village. No games or tricks, and the little girl gets to keep her head."
The villagers were whispering amongst themselves, the air filled with tension and fear. I heard them debate, as to succumb to my demands or not. A few of them began dropping their valuables, in an attempt to save the little girl.
"Stop! That's enough!" the cheiftain's voice roared through the air. He looked absolutely petrified, just like every last one of his tribesmen. Relaxing a bit, I had the intuition that this job would be much easier than I had anticipated.
"We will not give in to the demands of this villainous scum!" he turned, looking me straight in the eye. "I am well aware of your treacherous ways, pirate! You enjoy nothing more than swimming in stolen money! However, we are not weak and gullible as you think. If you wish to plunder then do it the proper way." he took a breath, drawing a wooden stake from his belt. "With a fight! Hear us out!" He rallied to his people "If we go down, then we will do so honorably and not as cowards!"
"Are you looking for a bloody death sentence?" I felt beads of perspiration trickle down my face. This was not the way I wanted the mission to end. To my dismay, a lethal conflict seemed to be absolutely unavoidable. I drew up my sword, feeling the cold handle against my hand. Already, I could imagine the gut-wrenching feeling if the blade were to slice through flesh. Would I even be able to accomplish such a deed? Yes, it was inevitable. If I was to be a successful pirate, I needed to toughen up and learn how to kill.
I wasn't concerned over my safety. Francis and I would be fine-after all, there was nothing these men could do to harm either of us. Ian, Awstin, Patrick and Seamus however, that was a different story.
Taking a quick glance at my crew, I saw that they, too, had drawn their weapons and were standing back to back, prepared to fight; all except for Francis, who looked pale and ready to faint in fear. I knew that in the life of a pirate, one was expected to lose a few crew members and friends, but as much as I wasn't sentimental about those oafs, it would come off as rather piteous to have a death on the first mission. I had tried my hardest so no blood would be shed.
But unfortunately, it would not end that way. The sound of clashing weapons soon filled the air. I barely had the time to move away, just as a sharp spear came dangerously close to my head. The man fought back furiously, as I raised my sword to match each swing of his spear. Metal met wood and formed a loud clank. A few smacks later, I was finally getting the upper hand in the battle. The man let out a loud yell as my sword stabbed into his chest, blood oozing from the wound as he fell limply to the ground.
To my surprise, the kill had not nearly been as gruesome as imagined. I felt neither mortified nor glorified at the fact that I had taken another human's life. I felt nothing. Through the whole ordeal, I had been completely emotionless, almost like a duty I was forced to fulfill.
Nor did I have much time to think about the act. Soon after, I was charged at again. With the same repeated moves I had learnt before, I took the next man down.
The fight had commenced for what had only felt like a couple minutes to me. However, by the position of the sun, I could tell that at least two hours had passed since we had initially landed on the island.
The village was quiet once more, but this time it was not silenced by the peaceful lull of early morning, but by the eminent presence of death. Bodies lay scathed and battered on the once beautiful coastal shoreline.
None of my crew had been seriously harmed; but for the villagers, it was a different story. The young men of the tribe had all gone out, bravely fought, and perished in the process. Even the chieftain, himself was gone; almost indistinguishable amongst the others. Those fools, I remember thinking. I always wondered why those men and resisted. With our more advanced skills and resources, they clearly stood no chance and were probably well aware of their unfavorable circumstance. It wouldn't be much later in my journey that I would discover the answer to that riddle.
Only the women, children and elderly remained, shaking with both fear and hatred. The remaining villagers obediantly hoarded up their belongings and dropped them at our feet, before scattering away. The fires had spread and were now licking at the heels of the huts. It was far too late to stop them, and soon afterwards, the entire village would be completely decimated into ashes, leaving the survivors with nothing. I could imagine their fates. Most would be homeless and eventually die of starvation. But at that moment, I honestly could care less. I blamed them for the unfortunate event. My mind felt cold and bitter at the thought. I had given them a chance for peaceful negotiations, and they in turn chose to bring their own deaths upon themselves.
In the end, this had only been a tiny mishap to me, but it had toughened me up to the life of a pirate. It would be full of bloodshed and tears, and as we sailed from that vanquished village that day, I had a feeling that this was the kind of adventure I had been waiting for.
…
"Wait, there's more right?" Peter's tilted his head in curiosity. "Ok, I admit that wasn't totally lame, but I don't see why you needed your stupid henchmen. I mean, you could have killed them all single-handedly. There's gonna be more killing coming up, right?"
Arthur gave a solemn nod. "Yes Peter, there will be much more. But do you really wish to hear it? I warn you, things will only go downhill from there."
"Why, of course!" Peter nearly shouted, causing the Englishman to cringe. "I want to hear all the epic swordfights and slaughters! And you promised you'd tell me about your immortality!"
Arthur sighed looking at the curious boy in front of him. "Don't strut yourself too much lad. And yes, there will be fighting, killing, as well as romance, drama, and angst." he retorted, using the same tone of voice.
"Eww! Don't tell me you guys get all kissy and stuff!"
"What do you think boy? Do you believe that I spent my entire career stealing and maundering around? Look, if you really want to hear more, I suggest you stop complaining."
Peter wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Fine, fine, I'll listen, but skip the kissy scenes please!"
.
( Prologue)
Lives…
Some are rich and lavish, some are in poverty. Some will start a family, some will chose to live alone. Some are happy, others not so much. But each is unique, like its own special footprint on the Earth.
Most people will only live once; 67 years is the average.
As for me, I've had a few. Too many perhaps, more than anyone ever should. I've had lives of poets, musicians, and even royalty. None of which were worth remembering.
However, this time, I was about to embark on completely different, something I'd never even considered before. It would both rejuvenate and destroy me at the same time. It was excitement, adventure, danger, and horror woven together. During sleepless nights it would haunt me, and during heartfelt days, send me soaring like nothing ever before. But only one thing was for certain, there was no looking back, only forward.
Because this time, I was living as a pirate…
"Ha! I knew it!" Arthur jolted at the interjection. "I knew you had to be immortal!"
"Now now, Peter," Arthur sighed, trying to calm the young boy down from his clamor. "Let's not jump to conclusions. I never said I was immortal, did I?"
"But…but…then how did you live so many lives? You have to be immortal, right?"
"Just listen to the story, lad. You'll understand later."
The boy frowned before coming to a quiet agreement. "Fine. But you better tell me!"
My story begins on a day quite like today. The year was 1572, right in the middle of the harsh chills and rains of November. With a struggling economy, and innumerous threats of invasion from both East and West, things were looking quite bleak for England. In last hope of bringing some peace and prosperity to this the country, I was knighted Sir Arthur Kirkland under the reign of her majesty, Queen Elizabeth. The very next day, I was to set sail through the Atlantic in search of new land and gold.
She sure was a grand ship - the Pelican. Standing tall and proud, the 80 by 40 foot beauty was exactly what I needed for this expedition. That plus a small crew of four carefully selected men and my first mate, Francis Bonnefoy, I was more than ready to set sail.
…
Everything had to be perfect.
That was the only thought that raced through my head while I sat on the stern. My legs were crossed firmly, almost as if they had been rooted to the wooden planks of the ship. After 12 long days at sea, my destination was finally drawing near. I could almost smell it, the sweet scents of victory forthcoming my way. In a couple hours would come early dawn, and with it the landing of the ship on the shores of Ellesmere Island. With a small candle for lighting, I glanced nervously between the compass in my hand and the stretched out map on the ground. Gently gliding my index finger, I retraced the summation of the journey, focusing on a distinctive small town on the coast. Vigorously and almost obsessively, I made notes in between the margins, with a feathered, inked pen. Only on small occasions, I would pause for a break - but only to wipe some perspiration off my face, which was starting to become unbearable.
The waves were rocking and gently lulling the ship as they splashed against the sides, almost creating a peaceful melody. Sitting high up on the balcony, I couldn't help but let a rare smile pass across my lips. Such moments of tranquility were difficult to find-especially with people, such as the monkeys I had for a crew, around. I had only begun to enjoy the quiet night, only to have it suddenly and rudely interrupted.
"Oi, Arthur. I thought I'd find you up here," hollered a distinctive voice as the corresponding face made its way towards closer to its destination. With a lazy slump, a long haired Frenchman had plopped himself right next to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You know, you really should get some sleep, mon ami. You'll need it, especially for what's forthcoming later."
"Same goes for you," I spoke harshly, but with a quiet tone. "Don't tell me you're not at all nervous about this."
"Ah, non. What's there to be nervous about?" the bearded man reassured, letting out a light chuckle. "You're just the same as always-worrying too much about every single minuscule thing. But isn't everything already perfectly planned to order? You even said so this evening. Come on. If it makes you feel any better, go ahead and review them with me. I'm all ears, mon cher," he offered.
"Yes, yes." I replied, cringing at the overtly suggestive note at the end. But still, I was honestly thankful to have someone open for discussion. "Let's see here…We're going to land, precisely at 5:30 sharp. Ian and Awstin, along with you and I will set a few fires, make some noises to cause a distraction on the North side of the village," I pointed, circling the precise part of the map. "And when everyone in the tribe is distracted and scrambling towards the racket, Patrick and Seamus will kidnap a little girl named Laila - Chief Jaaku's one and only surviving granddaughter. It doesn't get much simpler than that. We hold her for ransom. And exchange for his precious granddaughter's freedom, her rich pappy will have to turn over all his wealth and belongings to us."
"See," he responded, with a smirk. "You have it all cited and planned. There's nothing to worry about. And if things turn out badly, there's always the famous French way of surrendering; we drop everything and run for our lives!" Francis exclaimed, waving his hands in a rather dramatic matter, as if begging for mercy.
My face immediately fell in irritation. "You're not helping anymore, frog," I hissed. "And that's the exact problem! There's no room for failure here! Especially since it's my first mission! What would the Queen think of me if I can't even steal from a ninety year old man?"
Francis sighed, spontaneously halting his acting and dropping his voice down a notch. "Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered, with a bit more compassion. "I understand the pressure and how hard this is for you. The whole crew's mildly nervous too, to speak truthfully. It's the first time for all of us. But I can guarantee getting a few hours of sleep will produce much better results than just fumbling and stressing on the deck over here."
Reluctantly, I nodded. "Well, alright. You do have a point then. Go catch a few winks yourself. I am expecting everyone up and ready at a quarter to four. Got it?"
"Yes Sir, Captain Kirkland!"
…
"Awwwe, man! That's so boring!" Peter rudely butted in with a loud whine. "When is this going to get exciting? That mission sounds so stupid! Don't tell me you guys didn't even kill anyone! And that French guy sounds like a total sissy."
Arthur's eye twitched, annoyed at the interruption. "You'll see. You'll see. Just wait for me to get to that part, lad," he bided.
"B-but you haven't told me anything yet! You guys haven't done a thing besides chat! How did you get so strong and powerful anyway? And c'mon! Tell me if you're immortal already!"
The Englishman scowled, taking a small sip at his tea before speaking again. "Look here, boy. Do you want to hear more of the story?"
"Y-yes…But-"
"Then shut your trap and let me talk!"
"Okay, okay. I'm listening." Peter grumbled, propping himself idly against the table
…
The first rays of the early dawn broke through the crevices of my room as well as the minuscule, restless slumber I had finally managed to get. My head felt surreal and my stomach in knots-though I hated to admit it, Francis was right. I could have used the extra sleep last night. But that aside, there was no time for walloping. I had a job to do and the wealthy Nordic village wasn't bound to rob itself.
Hastily, I slipped on a collared shirt and a plain pair of trousers. I frowned at my appearance on the mirror nearby. It didn't feel complete. Something was missing, or at least it felt until I spotted a long, crimson coat on my dresser. I glanced at it curiously. It was perfect, almost emulating an aura of power and authority; and that was exactly what I needed.
For extra measures, I grabbed my sword from its hanger. The silver blade glistened brightly until I slit it back into its sheath. Razor sharp and deadly, a simple mishap could send someone straight to hell. The very idea sent shivers down my spine and I never wanted to go to that extent.
To my surprise, I was the last to arrive on deck.
I was greeted by a grinning Francis. His long hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, which was something I noticed he'd do whenever he was expected to work. "Bonjour, tête somnolente," he mockingly accosted in his native tongue. For that, I sent him a sharp glare. He seemed to get the message.
Ian, the token Scot, was leaning proudly against a barrel full of flammables and explosives, which left Awstin, the Welshman, looking slightly terrified as he promptly tried to leave the scene, scrambling under Ian's grasp.
"Chill, Capt'n. We got this." Patrick, the eldest of the red-haired twins assured me, his hands fumbling nervously with the dagger in his hand. From the unsteady motion, I was certain the lad had never used a weapon before. "Isn't that right, bro?"
Seamus gave an agreeing nod, looking as experienced as his brother.
I sighed. Without even setting foot off the ship, it felt as if we were doomed for disaster. "Very well, then. I expect a quick, clean job from all of you. Whatever happens, do not harm the villagers. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir!"
The village was peaceful and quiet, all its inhabitants still fast asleep. The huts were lined up in neat little rows, their doors absent with a large opening for any villager or intruder to pass. The atmosphere was latent with the smells of smoked meat from a previous meal. The village was entirely relaxed, confident that no harm was ever to come upon them. It seemed homely, almost reminding me of my hometown in England. For one moment, I almost felt disgusted with what I had to do. The people living there were much like I had been.
However, I had to go through with it. Getting sentimental over my first robbery was not going to further my status as a pirate.
Patrick and Seamus had already headed out, seeking the Chieftain's grand daughter.
It was our turn; carefully, I set out along the shoreline, shuffling as I walked around the layout of the village. Francis, Ian, and Awstin followed closely behind me, all quiet and careful not to wake anyone up. The whole entire tribe was small, and it only took a few minutes to reach the opposite end.
I lit a flare, waving it in the air to signal to the twins that we were ready. A few seconds later, an affirmative response from the opposite end marked that everything was set to go.
Francis and I grabbed ourselves a lighter, pressing the fire making device against some flammable pieces of wood. When the wood started to burn, we carefully placed the pieces into the shrubbery nearby. Gently, I blew on the fires, the flames glowing bright orange with fuel. I kindled the bushes, until they had become blazing, strong fires, and began coughing with my next inhale. Our activity had formed a thick, black cloud of smoke above our heads.
A loud boom shattered the air. Up ahead, Ian gave a friendly wave. The explosives had been detained. In a split second, the village went from tranquil to bustling with screaming, worried voices. It had provided the perfect diversion we needed, as all the waking villagers scrambled outside, trying to forecast their predicament.
The four of us scrambled towards the village center where we were to meet up with Patrick and Seamus, along with our precious hostage. The villagers ran past us, hardly noticing our presence. With buckets of water in their hands, they were much too preoccupied with putting out the fires.
"Mission accomplished, Captain!" Seamus laughed, his sword pressed against the terrified girl's neck. She was hardly older then 10, her large brown eyes bulging as she stood still with fear.
Laughing, I rested a hand on her trembling shoulders. "Be a good girl, will you? And if Grandpa cooperates, nobody gets hurt," I threatened with my most menacing voice.
She remained silent, only glaring at me with pure hate.
As planned, within the next minute, the villagers were beginning to realize the fire wasn't their biggest threat. Rushing back like a stampede of cattle, their faces were worried and fearful.
Not long after, would the Head Cheif arrive as well. With the steady prodding of his cane, the elderly man stood up. "I've always feared that a day like this would come." He spoke sadly, but in a calm tone. "But I assure you, if it's power or wealth you wish to obtain, you will not be getting any while I am alive."
Though his hair was grey, his skin wrinkled and his knees knobby with age, I was a bit impressed with his courage. "Very well, you stubborn old fool. But I'm sure your pretty granddaughter would like to say otherwise." I signaled to Seamus, who pressed the blade tighter against the girl's neck. "Give us supplies, and all the wealth you hold in your pathetic little village. No games or tricks, and the little girl gets to keep her head."
The villagers were whispering amongst themselves, the air filled with tension and fear. I heard them debate, as to succumb to my demands or not. A few of them began dropping their valuables, in an attempt to save the little girl.
"Stop! That's enough!" the cheiftain's voice roared through the air. He looked absolutely petrified, just like every last one of his tribesmen. Relaxing a bit, I had the intuition that this job would be much easier than I had anticipated.
"We will not give in to the demands of this villainous scum!" he turned, looking me straight in the eye. "I am well aware of your treacherous ways, pirate! You enjoy nothing more than swimming in stolen money! However, we are not weak and gullible as you think. If you wish to plunder then do it the proper way." he took a breath, drawing a wooden stake from his belt. "With a fight! Hear us out!" He rallied to his people "If we go down, then we will do so honorably and not as cowards!"
"Are you looking for a bloody death sentence?" I felt beads of perspiration trickle down my face. This was not the way I wanted the mission to end. To my dismay, a lethal conflict seemed to be absolutely unavoidable. I drew up my sword, feeling the cold handle against my hand. Already, I could imagine the gut-wrenching feeling if the blade were to slice through flesh. Would I even be able to accomplish such a deed? Yes, it was inevitable. If I was to be a successful pirate, I needed to toughen up and learn how to kill.
I wasn't concerned over my safety. Francis and I would be fine-after all, there was nothing these men could do to harm either of us. Ian, Awstin, Patrick and Seamus however, that was a different story.
Taking a quick glance at my crew, I saw that they, too, had drawn their weapons and were standing back to back, prepared to fight; all except for Francis, who looked pale and ready to faint in fear. I knew that in the life of a pirate, one was expected to lose a few crew members and friends, but as much as I wasn't sentimental about those oafs, it would come off as rather piteous to have a death on the first mission. I had tried my hardest so no blood would be shed.
But unfortunately, it would not end that way. The sound of clashing weapons soon filled the air. I barely had the time to move away, just as a sharp spear came dangerously close to my head. The man fought back furiously, as I raised my sword to match each swing of his spear. Metal met wood and formed a loud clank. A few smacks later, I was finally getting the upper hand in the battle. The man let out a loud yell as my sword stabbed into his chest, blood oozing from the wound as he fell limply to the ground.
To my surprise, the kill had not nearly been as gruesome as imagined. I felt neither mortified nor glorified at the fact that I had taken another human's life. I felt nothing. Through the whole ordeal, I had been completely emotionless, almost like a duty I was forced to fulfill.
Nor did I have much time to think about the act. Soon after, I was charged at again. With the same repeated moves I had learnt before, I took the next man down.
The fight had commenced for what had only felt like a couple minutes to me. However, by the position of the sun, I could tell that at least two hours had passed since we had initially landed on the island.
The village was quiet once more, but this time it was not silenced by the peaceful lull of early morning, but by the eminent presence of death. Bodies lay scathed and battered on the once beautiful coastal shoreline.
None of my crew had been seriously harmed; but for the villagers, it was a different story. The young men of the tribe had all gone out, bravely fought, and perished in the process. Even the chieftain, himself was gone; almost indistinguishable amongst the others. Those fools, I remember thinking. I always wondered why those men and resisted. With our more advanced skills and resources, they clearly stood no chance and were probably well aware of their unfavorable circumstance. It wouldn't be much later in my journey that I would discover the answer to that riddle.
Only the women, children and elderly remained, shaking with both fear and hatred. The remaining villagers obediantly hoarded up their belongings and dropped them at our feet, before scattering away. The fires had spread and were now licking at the heels of the huts. It was far too late to stop them, and soon afterwards, the entire village would be completely decimated into ashes, leaving the survivors with nothing. I could imagine their fates. Most would be homeless and eventually die of starvation. But at that moment, I honestly could care less. I blamed them for the unfortunate event. My mind felt cold and bitter at the thought. I had given them a chance for peaceful negotiations, and they in turn chose to bring their own deaths upon themselves.
In the end, this had only been a tiny mishap to me, but it had toughened me up to the life of a pirate. It would be full of bloodshed and tears, and as we sailed from that vanquished village that day, I had a feeling that this was the kind of adventure I had been waiting for.
…
"Wait, there's more right?" Peter's tilted his head in curiosity. "Ok, I admit that wasn't totally lame, but I don't see why you needed your stupid henchmen. I mean, you could have killed them all single-handedly. There's gonna be more killing coming up, right?"
Arthur gave a solemn nod. "Yes Peter, there will be much more. But do you really wish to hear it? I warn you, things will only go downhill from there."
"Why, of course!" Peter nearly shouted, causing the Englishman to cringe. "I want to hear all the epic swordfights and slaughters! And you promised you'd tell me about your immortality!"
Arthur sighed looking at the curious boy in front of him. "Don't strut yourself too much lad. And yes, there will be fighting, killing, as well as romance, drama, and angst." he retorted, using the same tone of voice.
"Eww! Don't tell me you guys get all kissy and stuff!"
"What do you think boy? Do you believe that I spent my entire career stealing and maundering around? Look, if you really want to hear more, I suggest you stop complaining."
Peter wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Fine, fine, I'll listen, but skip the kissy scenes please!"
.
( Prologue)