Let's Play Pirates: Chapter 1

Let’s Play Pirates

Chapter 1
At just twelve-years-old, Lady Elizabeth Artemesia Hartfield holds the highest rank out of any of the people in the crowded city hall, but today, she is just like everyone else, waiting for the first of the Archemedes’ Fleet to appear in the harbour. The large hall seems to be the home of all cheeriness, affability and festivity and holds each in wide abundance, for today, the Archemedes’ Fleet was due to return from its last voyage to New Canaar.
Now that the war was over, its prisoners were anxious to return to their home countries, and finding a ship to travel on was close to impossible. Of course, Bessie’s father and brother had been on the first ship from Takan, two weeks ago, and left her here, promising they would be home to welcome her when she, too, returned at long last.
Though by her solemn face it may not have seemed so, Bessie Hartfield was more exciting than words could express, perhaps, on the inside, the most jittery of all those waiting in the sizeable city hall, which was most definitely saying something. Her small, shaking hands stroked the stray kitten she was bringing back for her brother- she knew her father would never allow such an animal in the house but the benevolent Nik Hartfield would no doubt find a place for it.
Truthfully, Bessie felt rather lonely, despite her excitement. She felt abandoned by her family, and if she had been younger, and more trivial, perhaps she would have been truly incensed by it… but she was not, and as a young lady of such noble status, not even the strongest of evils could break through her white powdered mask of calm.
Even as she watched her father’s boat sail beyond the harbour, into the sea, carrying her family home without her, that mask remained. In times of trouble, it was all she had left. That... and the nameless kitten in her lap.
‘Oh, sweet,’ she thought sadly, ‘whatever happened to your family? Did they leave you behind too?’
And it was to that thought that the graceful young lady fell to sleep.
-
Suddenly there was an outcry, so loud that it jolted Bessie from the deepest of sleeps, and the best she’d had in a long time. Blinking away any trace of insomnia, she pushed her way through the crowd and out of the hall; the boats were coming into the harbour!
The ships were packed with hundreds each by the time Bessie reached the docks, still clutching the grey unnamed kitten in her arms, but she was finally admitted onto the third boat, with nothing left of her father’s generous purse, thanks to the greed of Archemedes’ workers. It was crowded to be sure, and nothing could be seen throw the mass of men, women and children on board. ‘Even animals are eager to be getting home,’ Bessie thought, only smiling faintly as a large slobbering dog shoved past her and into the waiting arms of a boy, several times smaller than it.
‘Sorry, ma’am!’ he called, hugging the dog tight as though he feared for it, ‘I’m Peter!’
‘Charmed, I’m sure,’ said Bessie, then she turned to the captain who was trying to get the attention of his passengers.
‘Oi! Oi!’ he yelled a few times and though the effect was not immediate, eventually people go the idea and fell silent. ‘Welcome, then, to my ship, the Slayer!’ From here the captain drifted into an extensive history of the wood beneath their feet, naming the ship with the pronoun she, rather than it, as it ought be. ‘This old girl was made in Thrace, 1349 by the finest of craftsmen…’
Knowing he was going to continue in this vein for quite some time, Bessie tuned out are looked around, not exactly seeing herself benefiting from anything he might care to say. During the captain’s dull speech, many people had thought to secretly retire to their cabins downstairs. Passengers had been given their cabin numbers upon boarding but it would seem, judging by the sounds of violence below deck, that many had forgotten theirs.
The captain looked annoyed, seeming to think that he and his ship were far too interesting to be skipped out on or ignored, even by a load of peasants and a lady, eager to travel home. As people milled downstairs in the hull of the boat, Bessie walked over to the captain, who was hanging his head, looking rather betrayed, ‘captain,’ she said compassionately, ‘prithee tell of the ship’s make.’
The captain looked up brightly, excited that a lady –even a twelve-year-old one- would be interested in his ship, ‘oh, she’s a fine one, milady,’ he said joyfully, and he proceeded to prattle on about the building of it, like a child in a Candy Shoppe.
Bessie listened tolerantly, asking a few questions and feigning interest for the captain’s sake. Thankfully a horn soon sounded, making the captain jump, ‘I must go, milady,’ he said excitedly and he scuttled off to make the final system checks necessary for the voyage.
Bessie moved a dainty, gloved hand to cover her yawn; it was getting late. Now that the ruckus downstairs was over with, Bessie found her cabin easily, where she was to stay with a boy, a little younger than herself, his mother, and his grandmother. Seeing the close-knit family, she was suddenly very sad and alone, feeling so much more her delicate age than usual. However, she quickly dismissed the feeling as seasickness and settled into bed with her kitten, which had taken to clinging onto the inside of her nightgown.
Bessie’s bunk was above the old woman’s and was part of the pair of bunks closest to the door. It was not a particularly comfortable way to spend one’s night and she knew from experience that she would hardly sleep a wink this way. The cabin was stuffy and the bunks were so unsteady that she feared falling on the old woman who slept beneath her in equal discomfort. Eventually, though, she fell into a sort of half-sleep that she decided would suffice to ease her weariness before fully submitting to it.
-
A noise woke Bessie in the night. Usually simple night sounds were not enough to rouse her but the screaming- that was another matter entirely. She sat up in bed and looked around her cabin, only the boy was awake, looking across at her from his own top bunk, practically biting off his tangerine lips.
She smiled reassuringly and stroked the shaking lump in her nightgown that held her dear kitten but even the brave Lady Hartfield was scared when a wild-eyed, crazy sailor burst into the cabin.
No, Bessie corrected herself automatically, not a sailor, a pirate.
Instinct told her she ought to hide but something akin to excitement kept her staring down at the intruder in both trepidation and amazement. Another pirate appeared to guard the door to the tiny cabin, his bulking form blocking out the only exit. A careful glance at the boy on the bunk across from her, told Bessie that he was in a similar position, terrified but somewhat awed and interested, watching in incredulity.
‘Whoa,’ he said, his voice no more than a low whisper, ‘pirates.’
‘Get up!’ ordered the first pirate, holding his hanger out before him.
The boy’s mother and grandmother awoke, prodded by the tip of the dreaded weapon. Silently, the old woman stood and joined Bessie and her grandson standing against the bare wall but his mother merely screamed like a banshee, as though there were a single person on board capable of helping them. Gasping, Bessie could do nothing but pray to an unknown god for the woman’s soul as she fell lifeless to the ground, the hanger tearing through her flesh as though it were tissue.
Similarly, the entire ship began to fall silent.
‘Mother,’ the boy choked out, but under the pirates’ hard gaze, he said no more.
It took a moment more for the reality of the situation to sink in. Pirates had boarded the ship. What would her father say? Her brother, even? Would she live to hear it?
The second pirate drew her scattered attentions together by thumping around the cabin, roughly unpacking the passengers had. He looked Bessie over and seemed to be quite surprised at her being there.
The screaming started again and Bessie smelt smoke in the air.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘you.’ The pirates exchanged glances with each other and then nodded decisively.
Bessie shrank back against the all as he reached over to grab her by the wrist but she could no more fight his grasp than she could fly. Taking a last glance back at the terrified boy and the poor old woman who had just seen her daughter murdered, they steered her out the door, slamming it behind them. She heard a lock click and knew that those poor innocents were doomed.
Still wondering whether or not they were saving her, Bessie had no choice but to let herself be dragged away from the morbid stench of smoke and ash.
She shivered, hearing similarly trapped innocents banging on their doors, locked inside the condemned ship, with no hope of escape, as she was pulled roughly through the corridors. Tripping up the steps, still held by the pirates, Bessie longed to rub her wrists, where the pirates’ tight grips shot dagger-like torrents of pain through her body. She shivered, unable to move in any other way to increase her comfort level, or even to decrease her pain.
Out in the night air, thick with smoke, Bessie could now see the black-sailed pirate ship, pushed against the Slayer. A fire now raged below deck and her heart ached for all those trapped… all the same, there was no use thinking of that now. Bessie was still alive and her thoughts remained selfishly on how to get herself out of danger.
Little 12-year-old Bessie Hartfield made no attempt to break free, knowing it to be futile and drawing comfort from the soft fur of the kitten, clinging beneath her nightgown. She wondered in vain what these pirates wanted with her- she knew that their rule book, the Pirate Articles, forbade them taking women (or girls, as was the case) on a ship, and feared they had saved her from the flames, merely to throw her to the icy waves below.
‘Kid,’ said a female voice, about her age, ‘get on.’
‘But it’s a pirate ship!’ Bessie complained before realising just how snobbish she must sound.
‘No duh,’ said the girl, ‘just get on.’
‘But it’s not allowed!’ said Bessie, wondering why on earth she was fighting her saviours.
Bessie shook of the pirates holding her, who seemed to answer to the girl and turned around, ‘who are you?’
‘I’m the captain of this here ship,’ said the girl, ‘now get on,’ she whipped out a hanger, using it to nudge Bessie towards the ship, ‘no highway option.’
Bessie obliged reluctantly and allowed herself to be helped on by a pirate waiting on the other side and then to be –rather rudely- thrust aside, ‘hey, Captain! Why’re we taking prisoners?’
‘Just do it!’ snapped the girl pirate, ‘no questions!’
‘Yes, Captain!’
‘Is she really your captain?’ whispered Bessie cautiously.
‘Fourteen-years-old, if a bit small,’ said the pirate who had helped her one, ‘but so are most of us. Don’t you think on her being a girl, but- she’s no pansy!’
‘I can… I can see that,’ said Bessie fearfully.
‘Thank you, Fern,’ said the captain, jumping onto the pirate ship herself, ‘but if I wanted to be shown off like a prize I’d be back in Grosvenor Square getting eyed by man-whores. Cast off!’
‘Watch your mouth, eh, cous’?’ said the pirate called Fern patronisingly, ‘what would Aunt Cara say if she knew?’
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ snapped the girl captain, ‘I said cast off!’
‘Yes, capt’n!’
Bessie managed a weak smile at that, despite the situation.
‘You, girl,’ said the captain, rounding on her.
Her grin faded, ‘yes, ma’am! Sir? Captain!’
‘Nice save,’ said the girl captain, ‘I am Kurissyma san Tybalt, and I,’ she indicated herself, ‘am a sky pirate,’ she gestured back t the flaming ship they had just left.
‘A- A sky pirate?’
Captain Kuris’s eyes twinkled brightly, ‘just watch. Up with her then!’ the last part was a command to the crew and suddenly, as if by magic, the ship lifted into the air, dripping salt water back into the ocean as it flew higher, unrestrained by the laws of gravity.
‘Hoooooold on!’ was Fern’s jovial cry.
‘Are you insane?’ Bessie wailed, ‘this is witchcraft!’
‘Nonsense!’ laughed Kurissyma, ‘it’s magic!’
‘You’re going to get us all kill!’
‘Who’s the captain here? Nobody dies without my consent!’
Bessie looked about the deck, but all she saw was bright faces- people doing the things they love… she thought.
‘But how…?’
‘Like I said,’ said Kurissyma, ‘it's magic. Come on out Masou! Lulu! Cori!’
The fairies were not half a foot tall like the fairies of a thousand celebrated authors, but full-grown, albeit winged, adults, who walked up one by one and reported to the captain.
‘Showing us off like circus freaks,’ one was muttering, ‘it’s inhume, the way that girl treats us.’
‘Shut up, Lulu!’ said the second.
‘Lu’s a little grumpy,’ explained the third fairy and the only male among them, the one called Masou, ‘it’s all Cori and me can do to keep her from setting the ship alight.’
Bessie stepped back nervously, with a look of sheer terror on her face, before her curiosity overcame her fear and she came forwards again to tug uncertainly on a wing.
Unfortunately, it was Lulu’s.
‘Get off, you freakish pervert!’ she cried, scrambling back instantly.
‘I’m Cori,’ giggled the second fairy, ‘and I’m the bouncy, happy ball of candy floss that cheers people up when they get sad-like!’
‘Then why is Lulu so grumpy?’
‘Lulu’s doesn’t count,’ said Cori brightly, ‘no one can cheer her up! I’m the opposite! Nothing can keep me down!!!’
‘No even gravity,’ said Bessie with a shaky laugh.
‘Especially not gravity,’ said Cori.
‘I’m Masou,’ said the boy fairy, ‘and I’m here to make sure Lu doesn’t do something stupid.’
‘Like what?’ asked Bessie in awe.
‘Like…’ Masou thought for a moment and then pulled a funny face, ‘turn someone into a frog!’
‘Can you do that?’ Bessie whispered.
‘We caaaaaaaaaaaan…’ said Masou, grinning.
‘But we don’t,’ Lulu assured her sharply.
‘Because that would make us witches,’ said Cori. ‘We’re not allowed to use black magic.’
‘Is Lulu a witch?’
Masou laughed heartily at that but was cut off by a harsh glare from Lulu, ‘no,’ she said, sounding insulted, ‘I’m not.’
‘She’s just kinda crabby,’ said Masou, shaking his head and resolutely trying not to laugh at the look of Lulu’s face.
‘Besides,’ said Cori, ‘you can tell a witch by her-’
‘Enough,’ said Kurissyma suddenly, ‘you’re scaring the fool.’
The small group examined Bessie closely, her face had gone a rare shade of white that had nothing to do with the powder she was wearing and she was shaking slightly.
‘A-actually,’ said Bessie, ‘I think I was more scared when I found pirates raiding my ship in the m-middle of the night.’
It was a weak attempt at humour but Masou laughed politely.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Kurissyma, smiling, ‘you must think we’re cold-hearted fiends!’
‘You mean you aren’t?’ thought Bessie, somewhat ungraciously, ‘well…’ she said.
‘No need to say it,’ said Cori brightly, ‘we understand.’
‘But we’re very almost the good guys,’ said Masou and Bessie raised a carefully plucked eyebrow.
Bessie considered this and couldn’t find a single scrap of evidence to support it, but she didn’t say that, ‘why aren’t I dead?’ she asked instead.
Kurissyma laughed warmly at this and shook her head.
‘Cheery for pirates, aren’t you?’ said Bessie dryly.
‘Don’t be a grouch,’ said Cori, pleadingly, ‘we’ve already got Lulu for that!’
A loud hmph and the sounded of a heavy boat hitting wood assured them that Lulu was listening from wherever she had stormed off to.
‘Am I a prisoner?’ asked Bessie, instead of arguing.
‘A prisoner?’ said Kurissyma, ‘all of us are prisoners up here- even me!’
‘What?’
‘Well, do you want to go overboard in the longboat?’ asked Kurissyma sceptically.
Bessie took a nauseated glance over the side as clouds rose up around them, ‘no…’ then she turned to Cori and Masou, ‘if it really you making the ship fly?!’
‘Us and Lulu,’ said Cori modestly.
‘Try not to aggravate her too much,’ Fern advised, appearing out of nowhere, which, Bessie was soon to learn, he did a lot, ‘or she might let down her head.’
‘I’ll… I’ll remember that.’
‘She’s more powerful than she looks,’ said Masou, ‘more powerful than me and Cori.’
‘Though she’ll never admit it,’ Cori agreed.
‘You’re doing well,’ said Kurissyma, feeling the need to say something nice to Bessie, ‘most noble ladies would faint, or swoon or… something- even if only to get my cousin’s attention,’ she grinned at Fern’s muscular body and then nodded at him curtly, ‘say what you mean to.’
Fern straightened up considerably, ‘we’ve crossed the Takan boarder- the look out’s spotted a Thracean airship.’
‘Good,’ said Kurissyma, ‘I’ve been wanting to knock one of those metal contraptions out of the sky for a while now. Are we prepared?’
‘Yes, capt’n!’
‘Right then,’ Kurissyma left for a moment to consult with the shaking 11-year-old lookout, who seemed to be afraid of heights, before returning and speaking to Cori and Masou, ‘are you ready?’ she threw a glance in Lulu’s direction.
The grumpy fairy nodded in confirmation, despite her annoyance.
Kuris smiled appreciatively, ‘twenty degrees southwest, slow down a little… and you, girl,’ she turned to Bessie, ‘get ready.’
‘For what?’ Bessie blurted out, hugging herself as she shivered in her thin silk nightgown.
Kurissyma giggled and light flooded the deck as the lookout set about lighting the lamps, ‘why, for battle, of course!’