by Kat Mandu
He dropped, stumbling into a roll when the blade took a few hairs off his blonde head. His fist hit home at what he thought was an island native. But when his blow connected, sending the air out of his lungs, the paint on his body smeared. He didn’t miss a beat while a question rang in his mind. His fist hit jaw before he latched onto the axe when the other three caught up.
“So, body paint?” he asked. All three took a step forward. Richard hefted the axe over his shoulder when he turned to look at the guy he had taken it from. “God, forgive me. I am going to do some very terrible things,” he murmured, resigning himself. He spun, the axe creating a sickening crunch while blood and grey matter spilled onto the roots of the tree. He palmed the hilt and glared at the remaining three.
They all glanced at the dead body but only one hissed at him. Richard glared back, charging as he swung the axe. He was aiming to hit another head, but the one with a cutlass weaved under it and fell back. Another with a spear leaped at him and stabbed at his chest. He sidestepped, avoiding the blow while he swung with his left hand.
The man with the cutlass charged, steel to steel as Richard raised the axe in time to catch the blow. He felt his knees give out while the cutlass loomed over his head. He slammed his elbow back, nailing the man in the groin. “Ah!” the man cried, falling to ground as Richard grabbed the cutlass.
With both hands armed, he took a step back from the three hunters. “I see how it is: I start holding some damn weapons and now you start keeping your distance!” he screamed at them. They remained silent. “What, cannae speak anymore?” he shouted. The only one still armed flung his spear, nailing Richard right in the side. His knees gave out and both weapons fell to the ground.
His body went limp as the natives walked over. While the other two flanked him to retake their lost weapons, the last one grabbed onto the spear and drove it deeper into Richard’s limp body. He didn’t even twitch.
The other two, figuring it was safe, went to reach for their weapons. In a flash, both heads were on the ground while Richard slashed the shaft of the spear off. In one throw, he sent both weapons into the shoulder of the man that stood by his feet. The body collapsed while blood flooded the dirt.
“I don’t play games when ma life is on the line,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet. He reached for the spearhead still imbedded in his side while he looked at the other two weapons. Both of the bodies by his side were missing a good chunk of their necks. Not even bothered by the smell, he grabbed the cutlass and clumsily whipped the blood off the blade.
“Not bad. Good steel,” the parrot screeched.
“Fuck you,” he said, taking a step forward. But he only fell to the ground. “I really don’t have anything left in me,” he realized, rolling onto his back. He noticed a bit of blood trailing out of his wound. His hand twitched but he couldn’t find the will to move it.
“Never leave a job unfinished,” a voice said in his mind. He let out a low groan.
“Funny how you don’t know how tired you are until you fall down,” he realized, straining to get himself on his feet.
“On your face!” the bird squawked.
“I think I found breakfast early,” he growled. The bird flew off into the leaves. Between the stab wound and all the travelling, he was in no fit state to attack the irritation. He glanced up at the sky, noticing the clouds beginning to burn with orange from the setting sun. “Lovely, I have nae trail and nae shelter, this just keeps getting better.”
He pressed his hand against a tree when the forest became a bit patchy. The dirt gave way to a rocky incline. He spotted a small hole in the ground nearby. Wincing a bit, he stabbed the cutlass into the ground and tested the terrain.
“Too loose,” he said with a frown. “Well, I guess a tree would be better suited.” He glanced back at the woods. “But I’m too tired,” he moaned, turning around and taking a step forward. But he suddenly fell backwards. “Shit,” he groaned, slamming his back into a rock. He rolled down into the hole a ways before skidding to a stop. He lifted his head blearily before dropping out of consciousness.
Richard could feel his body being dragged along the ground. His awareness was faint, but he knew without a doubt that he was being moved. A low groaned escaped his lips and he heard a low whimpering in response. “What?” he wondered, surprised a bit when a wet tongue hit his face.
“What?” he asked, opening one eye to see a pink tongue covering his vision. The animal moved back and he saw a panting dog. It was easy to recognize as a “britsh” shepherd with pointed ears and a black and tan coloring. Overall, it was a very beautiful dog. He reached out slowly and started to pet the side of it’s head. The dog leaned into his hand before pulling away. “Easy there, I don’t need you – ah!” he said, wincing when the dog did exactly what he wished it hadn’t. The dog had licked at his side. He pushed the dog away as hard as he could.
The dog vanished from sight before he felt a cold nose on the back of his neck. His hand went for anything but his mind caught up with where he was. His vision swam for a moment before he passed back out.
“Wake up!” someone shouted. Richard felt a massive sting grace his face.
“Easy, Laurella. You just patched him up, why did you slap him?” a male voice asked while Richard shook his head. He tried to touch his face but found that, despite his strength returning to him, he was bound to something.
“Just fantastic,” Richard growled, focusing his eyes to see that his wrists and ankles had been bound to a table.
“Well, you don’t expect us to just let you have run of the place? We didn’t survive this long by trusting just anyone,” someone said.
Richard exhaled his anger, looking up at the ceiling. It looked like it had been made up of a lot of roots. “I can see how that would work, but I don’t much like being restrained.”
“I told you he wouldn’t be happy,” a meek voice said. After letting his vision focus for another second, he glanced around to see a woman standing by his side.
“Laurella, I presume?” Richard asked, looking at her. She had short blonde hair with a reddish tint that curled in on her shoulders. Purple eyes studied him under her glasses while he glanced lower. She sported a green dress that, despite her environment, seemed in good shape. Her look was finished with a brown cloth corset that held up her rather impressive chest. Richard tore his eyes away, doing his best to not let the view distract him.
“That’s always where they look first,” she sighed, shaking her head. “So, where are you from, why are you here and what are your intentions?” she asked, resting one hand on her hip.
“I take it you have done this before,” Richard implied, focusing on her eyes.
“You’re the fifth person this week. But with how most stumble in on us, you’re the first to be dragged in,” a quiet voice said.
“Quiet,” Laurella hissed.
“Yes ma’am,” the voice said, accompanied by a small shuffling.
“Enough,” said a third voice. “He seems willing to talk, which is more than we can say for anyone else so far. Can we get a name?” he asked. His voice, however, made it seem more of a demand.
“Ma name is Richard, Richard Robert Zane. I was part of the S.S. Cryptic, but it was captured by the pirate Brendan “The Flame Mask” Flintlock. I was forced into service on the grounds of nae wanting to drown. I had a feeling something was off when we came to the island. So, I stole a map and made a break for it. As for intentions, getting the fuck off this island seems like a good summary,” he said.
“Seems legit,” replied the third voice.
“He seems nice. I mean, the dog likes him. And dogs only like nice people, right, big brother?” he asked.
“Well,” the older brother said.
“That’s a myth and means nothing. Your story seems true enough, but just so you know,” Laurella said, approaching his head. She took out a dagger from her belt and stabbed it into the table by his head. “We are armed and you are still recovering.”<
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Richard looked at the dagger imbedded in the table. “So, are we good or nae? I have had far too many life threatening experiences in the last day to really care about your threats,” Richard said dully.
“Are you saying we should keep you like this?” she asked.
“Lass, that all depends on what you plan on doing with me,” he said, giving her a wry smirk.
“Tray, untie him,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. A rather pudgy man with a shaved head appeared to cut his bonds. He was wearing a too small stripped red shirt and brown pants that were threadbare.
Richard sat up, spotting a lone figure leaning against the wall. A wall that clearly showed he was under a tree. But the man himself was very stringy with curly brown hair. He sported a lace-up brown vest and long shorts with a short sword on his belt.
“So, Tray and Laurella. You would be?” Richard asked, rubbing his wrists.
“Her name is Doctor Laurella Pertwee,” he corrected. Richard rolled his eyes as the taller figure continued. “My name is James,” he said, resting his left hand on the hilt of his blade.
“Don’t mind my older brother. You don’t last long on this island by trusting people,” Tray said, holding out his hand. Richard shook it, smiling at the pudgy man. “Tray Smith, it’s nice to meet someone who isn’t out to kill me,” he said. Richard let out a low chuckle.
“Likewise,” he said, returning the smile.
“So do you actually have an idea of how we are going to get off this damn island?” James asked, crossing his arms with a hint of sarcasm etching his voice.
Chapter 3 Moving On Out
“Incredible,” Tray noted, staring at Richard’s face. “Your eyes are so weird; I can’t believe there are two colors.”
“Yeah, blue and brown in both,” Richard said. “As cool as it looks, standing out in a crowd of pirates is not always a good thing,” he said as a bark sounded around them. He was surprised to see the dog that had dragged him into the pit leap up and place both paws on his chest while licking at his face.
“Looks like someone found a new friend,” Tray said with a smile. Richard began to scratch behind the dog’s ears.
“Thank you very much for saving ma life,” he said. The dog paused for a second, as if understanding him, but went back to painting his face with drool. “Okay, that’s enough,” he said as the dog dropped back down to all fours. He knelt down to inspect the collar. “Ji-la,” he tried, dragging out the sounds and butchering the name. “Screw it, Jill will work,” Richard said.
“So, are you going to ask how we got here?” he asked.
“I am guessing you were left here because you were not loyal or something. Or was it in question?” Richard asked.
“How did you know?” Laurella replied,
“The reason I am here is because I jumped ship when I found out. Not too far away is the next Pirate Lord,” he explained, reaching for the sash on his waist. He quietly noticed that the map was still in place.
Richard glanced around the room, suppressing his disappointment. The room was empty, save for a table and a few containers against the wall. The only thing visually interesting was the roots twisting and making up the walls.
“Tray, get moving. We’ve got things to do and we can’t stay here,” Laurella called. Richard turned around to see her strapping on a belt filled with pouches. She then grabbed a second and strapped it over her chest and one shoulder. He noticed a dagger and a strap for a much longer weapon on the back.
Richard thought better of inquiring about it. He noticed a bit of light coming through a small hole in the roots. “Hmm, I take it you are worried the trail of the dog dragging me here will attract unwanted attention?”
“We don’t think, we know. If you so much as injured one, they will retaliate. They have a nasty habit of being too damned organized. And since that dog dragged you here, we know for a fact that they are on their way,” she said, marching forward. She cried out when a painted figure leaped down at her from the entrance.
“Laurella!” Tray cried out. James reached for his short sword, but found it missing. Richard grabbed the surprise attacker pushing past Laurella, as Richard elbow checked the man into the roots and with James’s sword slit his throat; blood spilling from his neck and flowing in one massive stream. Laurella scrambled back, trembling in fear while she watched the body drop limply.
“Relax, he’s just dead,” Richard said, rolling his eyes. He handed the weapon back to James, both in silence. Richard grabbed onto the grass outside of the hole and pulled himself out, aggravating his wound with the effort.
James climbed out behind him, looking at the weapon still in his hand. “Keep an eye out. There should be at least three more hanging around. And Laurella’s scream is sure to have put them on alert,” he advised.
Richard rolled his eyes before glancing back and noticing that they were not being followed. “Hurry up, we need to get moving,” he called down. Jill rushed up, sitting at his side and looking up at him. “Well, you as well. But where are the others?” he asked, only to pause and question himself. “Why am I asking you?” He turned away but still caught Tray giving him a concerned look.
“Catch a bit of the sun?” Tray asked as Laurella crawled up from the hole. James was behind her.
“Sorry, had to move the body,” he said, looking at his brother.
“Why in the world?” Richard mouthed. Tray only shook his head. “Fine, do you have a place to go or are you just booking it?”
“Not sure, depends on you and your intentions,” Tray admitted, taking point.
“Ma intentions?” Richard repeated.
“Yeah, do you plan on sticking around or going off on your own? If you stick with us, we will lead. But we have our safe spots and we plan to keep to them,” James replied.
“I have a very stupid plan. But I need a rough estimate as to where I am exactly,” Richard said.
“You got a map?” James asked.
“Nae a good one, but it serves,” he admitted.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I am risking the bog for the castle in the middle of the island,” Richard admitted, causing the other three to stop.
“The Immortal Gargoyle?” James stammered out, inclining his head as if to get a better look at Richard.
“I don’t plan on fighting him,” Richard said, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “I am crazy, but I am nae that stupid.”
“Look, your crazy if you think you can solo it where armies have failed,” Tray said, stepping forward to cow him away from his idea. “This is a suicide mission.”
“Yeah, well it’s ma only hope of getting off this island alive and well,” he replied.
“You would be better off waiting for another ship to come in.”
“Not really. Anyone on this island is going to die, be it of old age or a bold act. There is nae rescue unless someone stumbles across this island. Even then, there’s not much of a chance. Since we are close to the center of the archipelago, this is one of the most dangerous places to travel. Only pirates will come to this island, and then only potential Pirate Lords. And they will not be taking you off this island,” Richard said.
“There is no boat at the center of the island. Look, if that’s true, we are the best people to stay with since we don’t care much for human flesh,” James said, his sword beginning to point in Richard’s direction.
“Just let me do ma thing and I will be the last person you will ever need to worry about. If your prediction comes true,” Richard said.
“Look, can I at least see your map?” he asked, eyeing the paper.
“Trade it for some directions,” Richard said, seizing the opportunity.
“It’s in a valley. Head north from here using the sun’s movement as your guide. You can’t miss it,” James said, stepping forward and his hand ready for the map.
“Thank you,” he said as he handed the map off not seeing much more use out of it. James
turned away as Richard glanced at the other two and getting no response headed off with the dog at his heel.
Richard glanced back before he checked his directions and headed north, no sense in dallying around, he frowned as he pushed past bushes in trees as Jill suddenly lowered her head into the grasses with her hackles going up, and trusting the dog’s intuition more than his own dropped down to one knee under the green foliage. Jill bared her teeth as Richard kept still his eyes shifting under the stalks as he heard movement. He couldn’t see anything as he realized he had no weapons on him. He kept still as the rustling grew faintly stronger before slowly moving away.
Risking his head he watched as few more people moved away from him crouched down but still notable as they vanished they was he had just came. “Shit,” he mouthed as the man vanished from eyesight.
“Look out!” someone shouted. Tray and Laurella screamed in panic. Richard kept his feet moving but the dog nosed his side.
“Fine!” he growled, hunching into the bushes as he made his way back. The group seemed to have been tackled to the ground and still, screaming filled the air.
Richard’s feet froze when the movement stopped. “Well, I tried,” he said, shrugging. He turned but the wound in his side gave a spasm. “Then again, a doctor on hand is worth more than in the pot,” he admitted. “But how?” Crouching down again, he studied the dirty leather coats and painted faces of each castaway. He could tell that most were either lightly tanned or Caucasian. “Chantal would have a fit if she saw this,” he mused. Out of the six there, there was three with cutlasses, one with a spear and leather shield, another with a regular bow while the last had a crossbow.
He watched them shove James forward, grabbing the map and his weapon. This group seemed much more organized. The crossbow was standing above them a good distance, keeping a lookout. The bow was doing the same but was a bit more focused on the three before him. The swords were behind them and the spear was looking at the map. Richard looked up; there was lots of daylight and the full scale of the island was still not in his scope. If he wanted to keep trouble to a minimum, he needed to act fast.
