by Andy Marlow
a friend is to make her an enemy.”
“Is that advice from the gods?”
She sighed. “If you like, yes.”
The pirates had been watching the affair from afar and, though they could not tell the words that were being said, they understood the gist of it. Truth be told Liu’s words were wrong, for Bluebeard’s ferocious tone against Bottle-Neck had strengthened his image as a fiery, powerful king of the pirates; his weakness before an Eastern slave-girl now made them almost ashamed to call him their captain. Worse, some of them began murmuring that maybe Liu was more of a captain that Bluebeard was. They had long been suspicious of the influence Liu held over their leader, and now was the first time any of them had seen a visual demonstration of it.
It was all up to Bluebeard now. If he stood up to her and remained the strong, resolute leader that he had been up till now, their respect would be maintained; if he buckled against his mistress’ scorn and released the girl, he could kiss goodbye to any pretence of holding onto his crew.
The conversation continued for a little while, and then Bluebeard returned to the head of the pack. He seemed more sullen than before but did not go back to pick up Bottle-Neck, so all was not lost for him. Nevertheless, it seemed that Liu had been able to knock the fire out of him too easily. They began to question the whole point of their quest into the woods to rescue the enigmatic Liu and even whether their Captain could any longer be trusted.
Of course, they did not air these questions openly; for now they would lie beneath the surface, ready to erupt should the occasion arise.
The crew continued on their way. Their mood was silent now as each resided with their thoughts and avoided the wounded beast that was their Captain. Woody took the lead while Marley took the rear, admirably doing his level best to keep up with the rest and not allow his leg injury to slow him down. Liu, for her part, was nowhere to be seen. Everyone noticed this but nobody mentioned it for fear of provoking the Captain’s rage.
Under the wise guidance of Woody’s navigation, they soon reached the clearing with the mansion in it. Some of them had not been inside before (specifically Marley and Woody) so the sight of it provoked within them the excitement it had engendered in the rest of the crew when they had first seen it. It was contagious, so that even though Bluebeard, Simon and Jawface had already had time to explore it, it was as if it was their first time there too. Their pirate urge to run and dive into the treasure trove before them was almost too much for them.
Almost. For Bluebeard’s keen eye spied that something was not quite right and beckoned for his men to stop. He had slowly recovered from his meekness now that Liu was gone and had once more become the roaring ruler of the roost, commanding his pirates with iron fist and steel will.
“Wait here, lads,” he commanded. “Something’s up.”
It was difficult to stay still, though, for a pirate so close to an open treasure chest. , This was especially the case for Marley and Woody, who soon began to complain.
“What’s up? Nothing’s up. I can’t see anything,” whined Woody. “Let us go in, please let us go in!”
“Wait,” snarled the Captain. “I can smell trouble.”
As if in confirmation, one of the front windows on the first storey suddenly exploded out into the glade sending glass flying everywhere. Luckily our heroes were too far away to be impaled by any of the shards, although one did nearly reach the leather boot of Bluebeard’s left foot. The pirates took a step backwards instinctively and ducked for cover behind anything they could find. This being a glade, though, for most of them the only cover they could find were particularly long blades of grass.
Out of the bombed-out window came flying the bodies of Yellowbeard and a ninja, entwined in mortal combat and blissfully unaware of their deadly fall, so engrossed were they in battle. Yellowbeard was the first to notice that they were hurtling through the air at breakneck speed and turned the pair of them so that he was lying on top. The unnamed ninja twigged what was going on too late; his body splatted on the ground beneath him with a painful whelp, while Yellowbeard rode his battered corpse to safety. He stepped off calmly and approached the Captain at the edge of the glade.
“See you I can,” he said loudly. He paused for a minute, waiting for the customary reply of Greenbeard or Redbeard; yet they were inside, away from him, so he was left in the uncomfortable situation of having to fend for himself conversationally and in combat.
Bluebeard came from behind his blade of grass and strode purposefully towards his younger brother. It seemed that Yellowbeard had quite forgotten the mutiny led by his green-haired sibling, for he attempted to greet the Captain jovially. His amicability was not returned to him: the Captain’s first act was to slap his brother round the face sharply with a jewel-encrusted gloved hand.
The little bearded man fell down, nursing his cut cheek. His eyes were so innocent and endearing, like a puppy dog, but such sweetness would not work on a man like Bluebeard.
“What’s going on?” he growled.
“Ninjas they came,” trilled Yellowbeard.
He did not explain further. Bluebeard sighed exasperatedly. “And?” he pushed.
Yellowbeard did not reply further; instead, he looked around bewildered, as if waiting for someone else to reply for him.
“Your brothers aren’t here, cretin, so you’ll have to speak for yourself,” coaxed the Captain. “Or else.”
The little yellow man gulped. “In the bedroom was I collecting shiny mugs,” he began. Then he stopped. Bluebeard beckoned him to continue, and Yellowbeard seemed positively terrified at the possibility of speaking for himself rather than waiting for a brother to interject.
“A noise from the kitchen came,” he continued slowly. “Then began battle.”
“And how is the battle going?” pushed Bluebeard, straining as hard as he could to remain patient.
“Badly. Well. Stalemate.”
Yellowbeard received another slap for his less-than-useless reply. “Get back in there,” he ordered, “and make yourself useful.”
His little yellow friend gladly obeyed and darted back to the front door entrance to find his brothers. Bluebeard returned to his small band of men and addressed them thus:
“Men, let’s go to war!”
A jubilant cry rose up from the pirates; even Marley, with his medical instincts and gammy leg, was excited by the prospect of fighting. So it was that Marley, Woody, Simon, Bluebeard and Jawface Jones all charged heartily into battle brandishing swords and pistols valiantly.
They kicked in the front door and were greeted by a chaotic scene. Of the five who had been left behind when Bluebeard set out into the forest, only four were left: the body of Pointy Pete lay sprawled on the staircase riddled with holes where the star-blades so favoured by the ninjas had penetrated his skin. Princess Alice was right next to Pete’s carcass and holding her own against two ninjas: one she was fighting with her blade, while the other she was engaging with in a one-handed punch-up. It was quite a sight to witness and reminded Bluebeard why she was such an asset to his crew.
At the bottom of the staircase, the battle was no less hectic. Yellowbeard was yelping and running about the hallway with two ninjas in hot pursuit. What he lacked in skill or bravery he more than made up for in blind dumb luck and cowardice: somehow, he was dodging every ninja attack that came his way. They were jumping from walls and leaping from trapdoors, pelting him with star-blades and blocking him with furniture; yet still he survived, and still he evaded them.
Where the other two bearded brethren were was unclear. Noises could be heard from upstairs which may have been them cursing and screaming in the heat of battle, but the general noise of the scene meant that one could not be sure.
It was obvious that the ninjas held the advantage. Possessing both the elements of surprise and numbers, Bluebeard’s crew were doing well just to survive. The injection of five more fighters to the battle was more than welcome for all concerned.
Marley immed
iately ran to Pete’s side. He cursed loudly as he remembered that he had left his medical supplies on board the Merry Martin; still, it was too late now, for a quick check of Pete’s pulse and temperature revealed him to be long gone. With a shriek of rage he joined Princess Alice in her battle against her two foes and instantly struck the one on the left dead with a knock-out punch of unexpected strength. Now the tables had turned; there was only one ninja now armed only with a small knife up against both Alice and Marley. As agile as he was, he could not evade the two furious pirates successfully and suffered two cuts to his upper arm, causing him to wheeze in the strange way that wounded ninjas do. He gave as good as he got, though, and Marley and Alice had to be careful to avoid the swift movement of his vicious hand wielding the star of spikes: the princess shrieked as her golden locks were torn away in one movement of his miniature blade, leaving her almost bald on the left side of her head.
Woody, meanwhile, had chosen to stay close to the entrance and avoid the melee. Instead he had pulled out his revolver and was eyeing up any hidden places on the walls or ceilings to see if a crafty ninja had not concealed himself therein. He found at least three on his first scan of the hallway, betrayed only by heavy breathing or a twitching toe. To a normal human being these would have been easy to ignore, but for a trained tracker such
