NaNoWriMo day 1--1455 words for Chala
Nov. 1st, 2006 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marieldraconisPrompt: I am going to write at least one page a day all month in honor of NaNoWriMo (I nearly typed NaNoWriteMore there). Today, I have over two pages. This is in response to Chala's prompt: "pirates". Enjoy!
November: A Pirate's Tale
“Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!” The man is in the tavern every night, and has been since the feast of Saints. His hair resembles seaweed, being a tangled mess and a dark green, though no one dares ask why. His clothes have long since lost their original color and shape, and may in fact have rotted onto him. His smell prevents close inspection, and it is clear that he has drunk much before he even arrives. No one sees him come in, and when he is first noticed he always has at least three empty bottles before him. He answers to “sailor,” and “rum,” and “Chevert,” which the locals have taken to calling him. But mostly he answers to “pirate,” as he begins his tales.
“I remember the day...” he says, every night. This night, it is “I remember the day ole Johnny Windward attacked the Caroliny forts.....” He drifts off, and newcomers wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Then, suddenly, he looks up. “I’ll tell the tale, if anyone can see to gettin’ me another bottle o’rum....” he sings the last few notes in a voice that belies the rest of him. Not pleasant, no, but less broken and more aged.
Someone will buy him another round, and his tale will begin. “Where was I? Ah, the ole Caroliny forts....well, y’see, the navy refused to pay ‘onest privateers for our nobles services, and we were dis—dis—not paid and no more work. S’we took to working for usselves, mateys. We’d get our pay from the navy one way or t’other. Ain’t that fair?
“I was on Windward’s Grey Wind, and a finer crew you never did see. We’d caught Spaniards for the Brits, and now we’d catch Brits for usselves. Now, there was a girl, the on’y one me mate Windward would let on his ship, even though ‘tis bad luck to let a woman on board the ship. But Windward ‘e loved this lass, and ‘e meant to marry ‘er when ‘e ‘ad earned ‘is back pay. ‘e could ‘ardly bear to be parted from the lassie, but we convinced the captain to leave ‘er be’ind when we needed the extra luck.
“One day we ‘eard tell of a myster’yus Indian city, made all o’ gold. Windward weren’t none for such tales, o’ course, but ‘e’d been given a grand map to the very spot where ‘twas said to be. The journey would take many days o’ hard sailing, through treacherous waters where the Brits were said to patrol. So ‘e left ‘is lady be’ind, though a sadder parting you never did see. She cried that she’d ne’er see him again an’ he vowed that ‘e’d marry ‘er when he came back, money or no. The lass stood on the pier an’ watched us go until we could see ‘er no more, an’ like as not long beyond that, too.
“We sailed for three days an’ three nights, and on the fourth day we sighted another land—but tha’s not all we saw...there’s no more rum. Yo, ho, ho...” He sings until a curious bystander, seeking the rest of the tale or perhaps just irritated by his drunken singing, signals the barkeep to give him another round.
Chevert, as he was called, drank until the bottle was half-gone, then continued. “So, the third...the fourth day, we saw the land on which te blasted treasure s’posd t’be found. Near the shore, ringed round like teeth in ‘ell’s mouth—five galleons, flying navy colors. ‘Twere a trap, and if not, them navy barstards were like as not ‘ave taken all the treasure. One o’us ‘gainst five o’ them, nary a chance that we could reach the shore or take their treasure. As yet, they’d not seen us, so we snuck out o’ there like the devil hisself were chasing us.
“We returned to our home base in Georgy, and the captain set out to meet his bride. The cap’ain was so happy, spite of trap and navy and all, ‘cause he was about to be married. ‘Twas not for me, the marryin’ life—in my day I had too many girls after me to pick jes’ the one. But the captain ‘ad eyes for none but ‘is lady, an’ she was all for ‘im, and so we went ‘er ‘ome to take ‘er to the chapel.
“When we arrived, it was near on sunset. Windward rapped on the door, calling for ‘is lady-love. No one answered. ‘e went into the ‘ouse, after telling us to wait. We waited, and heard the clock strike 2 quarters o’ th’hour fore he came out, alone.
“’e wouldn’ tell us what ‘e’d found there, just kept yelling his love’s name into the night. Finally, the man who lived next door came out, telling the captain that soldiers ‘ad come not three days past, and taken ‘er whole family to the Caroliny fort. Windward ordered us back to the ship, and we set sail soon’s the tide was right.
“Now, the fort’s sturdy now, and it was even then. Yet the captain refused to leave ‘is lady there for the soldiers to do who-knew-what to ‘er. The captain planned on the way how to get ‘is lass out safely. The ship sailed smoothly, and the winds favored their namesakes. We arrived not twelve hours later, an’ moored the Wind in a cove the captain knew of, out of sight of the fort. We snuck through the swamp up to the fort, much easier than it sounds. ‘twas midday, hot as anything, yet the passage was easy and the wind continued to blow, warning with its cries what we were about to see.” The old sailor finishes his rum with those words, and stares down at the bottle. Taking a hint, the barkeep himself brings the rum this time, enthralled by the man’s story.
“Upon the walls of the fort, we could see Windward’s lady-love with a navy sailor. The sailor ‘ad grabbed ‘er, and ‘is intention was ob-obv—clear. The lady, loyal ever to her captain, fought this sailor, to tragic end. She tripped and fell forty feet down the wall. Windward ran towards where she fell, not givin’ a thought for the sailor above. ‘is belov’d lived long enough to die in ‘is arms. I went after my captain, close enough to ‘ear ‘er last words... ‘I do,’ she said, with her last breath telling ‘im of ‘er love.
“The captain ‘eld ‘er till she breathed ‘er last, then stood and called up the walls: ‘Sailor,’ he cried. ‘Sailor, you will not long regret this infamy. Tell your masters that before the night is through, none in this fortress shall remain living.’ ‘e summoned us from our ‘iding spot, and led us back to the Wind.
“Now, no one ‘ad ever tested the fort’s defenses, but all the naval ship ‘cept one were out on patrol, or looking for us out at that trapped island. The captain called for volunteers to seize the ship, then sent them off an’ told them to sail it out to guard ‘gainst incoming navy vessels. The rest, ‘e sent to man the cannons.
“Soon as the navy ship was clear an’ away, the captain sailed in, firing the moment the cannons were in range. The barrels blasted away at the fort, and their own answered back, till nary a sight could be seen. The ship was breaking apart with the force of the cannons, then, finally, there was no more ammo to be ‘ad. The fort, too, had ceased fire, for what reason we didn’t know. As the smoke cleared, the crew saw their doom: in ‘is fury, in ‘is grief, Windward had driven them into the shallows, close to the fort. The fort ‘ad lost much of it’s stone, but in the dawning light, movement could be seen.
“‘Today I will join my beloved,’ Windward called. ‘Forward, if ye be sailors true!’ The crew could not turn back, and forward they might have a chance to survive. Hence forward they sailed, straight into the fort....” He fell silent.
“What happened then?” one young woman asked.
“I heard,” said a man at the bar, “that Captain Windward set his ship on fire and then cut his own throat.”
“I was told,” another announced, “that the fort was consumed by the flames, that the crew and the navy alike were burned alive. No one survived who saw those events.”
Suddenly, as one, everyone turned to Chevert’s table. Only the bottles remained to show that the man had ever been there.
As the crowd began to mutter among itself, the barkeep started cleaning another glass and smiled. Chevert would be back...tomorrow night.
November: A Pirate's Tale
“Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum!” The man is in the tavern every night, and has been since the feast of Saints. His hair resembles seaweed, being a tangled mess and a dark green, though no one dares ask why. His clothes have long since lost their original color and shape, and may in fact have rotted onto him. His smell prevents close inspection, and it is clear that he has drunk much before he even arrives. No one sees him come in, and when he is first noticed he always has at least three empty bottles before him. He answers to “sailor,” and “rum,” and “Chevert,” which the locals have taken to calling him. But mostly he answers to “pirate,” as he begins his tales.
“I remember the day...” he says, every night. This night, it is “I remember the day ole Johnny Windward attacked the Caroliny forts.....” He drifts off, and newcomers wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Then, suddenly, he looks up. “I’ll tell the tale, if anyone can see to gettin’ me another bottle o’rum....” he sings the last few notes in a voice that belies the rest of him. Not pleasant, no, but less broken and more aged.
Someone will buy him another round, and his tale will begin. “Where was I? Ah, the ole Caroliny forts....well, y’see, the navy refused to pay ‘onest privateers for our nobles services, and we were dis—dis—not paid and no more work. S’we took to working for usselves, mateys. We’d get our pay from the navy one way or t’other. Ain’t that fair?
“I was on Windward’s Grey Wind, and a finer crew you never did see. We’d caught Spaniards for the Brits, and now we’d catch Brits for usselves. Now, there was a girl, the on’y one me mate Windward would let on his ship, even though ‘tis bad luck to let a woman on board the ship. But Windward ‘e loved this lass, and ‘e meant to marry ‘er when ‘e ‘ad earned ‘is back pay. ‘e could ‘ardly bear to be parted from the lassie, but we convinced the captain to leave ‘er be’ind when we needed the extra luck.
“One day we ‘eard tell of a myster’yus Indian city, made all o’ gold. Windward weren’t none for such tales, o’ course, but ‘e’d been given a grand map to the very spot where ‘twas said to be. The journey would take many days o’ hard sailing, through treacherous waters where the Brits were said to patrol. So ‘e left ‘is lady be’ind, though a sadder parting you never did see. She cried that she’d ne’er see him again an’ he vowed that ‘e’d marry ‘er when he came back, money or no. The lass stood on the pier an’ watched us go until we could see ‘er no more, an’ like as not long beyond that, too.
“We sailed for three days an’ three nights, and on the fourth day we sighted another land—but tha’s not all we saw...there’s no more rum. Yo, ho, ho...” He sings until a curious bystander, seeking the rest of the tale or perhaps just irritated by his drunken singing, signals the barkeep to give him another round.
Chevert, as he was called, drank until the bottle was half-gone, then continued. “So, the third...the fourth day, we saw the land on which te blasted treasure s’posd t’be found. Near the shore, ringed round like teeth in ‘ell’s mouth—five galleons, flying navy colors. ‘Twere a trap, and if not, them navy barstards were like as not ‘ave taken all the treasure. One o’us ‘gainst five o’ them, nary a chance that we could reach the shore or take their treasure. As yet, they’d not seen us, so we snuck out o’ there like the devil hisself were chasing us.
“We returned to our home base in Georgy, and the captain set out to meet his bride. The cap’ain was so happy, spite of trap and navy and all, ‘cause he was about to be married. ‘Twas not for me, the marryin’ life—in my day I had too many girls after me to pick jes’ the one. But the captain ‘ad eyes for none but ‘is lady, an’ she was all for ‘im, and so we went ‘er ‘ome to take ‘er to the chapel.
“When we arrived, it was near on sunset. Windward rapped on the door, calling for ‘is lady-love. No one answered. ‘e went into the ‘ouse, after telling us to wait. We waited, and heard the clock strike 2 quarters o’ th’hour fore he came out, alone.
“’e wouldn’ tell us what ‘e’d found there, just kept yelling his love’s name into the night. Finally, the man who lived next door came out, telling the captain that soldiers ‘ad come not three days past, and taken ‘er whole family to the Caroliny fort. Windward ordered us back to the ship, and we set sail soon’s the tide was right.
“Now, the fort’s sturdy now, and it was even then. Yet the captain refused to leave ‘is lady there for the soldiers to do who-knew-what to ‘er. The captain planned on the way how to get ‘is lass out safely. The ship sailed smoothly, and the winds favored their namesakes. We arrived not twelve hours later, an’ moored the Wind in a cove the captain knew of, out of sight of the fort. We snuck through the swamp up to the fort, much easier than it sounds. ‘twas midday, hot as anything, yet the passage was easy and the wind continued to blow, warning with its cries what we were about to see.” The old sailor finishes his rum with those words, and stares down at the bottle. Taking a hint, the barkeep himself brings the rum this time, enthralled by the man’s story.
“Upon the walls of the fort, we could see Windward’s lady-love with a navy sailor. The sailor ‘ad grabbed ‘er, and ‘is intention was ob-obv—clear. The lady, loyal ever to her captain, fought this sailor, to tragic end. She tripped and fell forty feet down the wall. Windward ran towards where she fell, not givin’ a thought for the sailor above. ‘is belov’d lived long enough to die in ‘is arms. I went after my captain, close enough to ‘ear ‘er last words... ‘I do,’ she said, with her last breath telling ‘im of ‘er love.
“The captain ‘eld ‘er till she breathed ‘er last, then stood and called up the walls: ‘Sailor,’ he cried. ‘Sailor, you will not long regret this infamy. Tell your masters that before the night is through, none in this fortress shall remain living.’ ‘e summoned us from our ‘iding spot, and led us back to the Wind.
“Now, no one ‘ad ever tested the fort’s defenses, but all the naval ship ‘cept one were out on patrol, or looking for us out at that trapped island. The captain called for volunteers to seize the ship, then sent them off an’ told them to sail it out to guard ‘gainst incoming navy vessels. The rest, ‘e sent to man the cannons.
“Soon as the navy ship was clear an’ away, the captain sailed in, firing the moment the cannons were in range. The barrels blasted away at the fort, and their own answered back, till nary a sight could be seen. The ship was breaking apart with the force of the cannons, then, finally, there was no more ammo to be ‘ad. The fort, too, had ceased fire, for what reason we didn’t know. As the smoke cleared, the crew saw their doom: in ‘is fury, in ‘is grief, Windward had driven them into the shallows, close to the fort. The fort ‘ad lost much of it’s stone, but in the dawning light, movement could be seen.
“‘Today I will join my beloved,’ Windward called. ‘Forward, if ye be sailors true!’ The crew could not turn back, and forward they might have a chance to survive. Hence forward they sailed, straight into the fort....” He fell silent.
“What happened then?” one young woman asked.
“I heard,” said a man at the bar, “that Captain Windward set his ship on fire and then cut his own throat.”
“I was told,” another announced, “that the fort was consumed by the flames, that the crew and the navy alike were burned alive. No one survived who saw those events.”
Suddenly, as one, everyone turned to Chevert’s table. Only the bottles remained to show that the man had ever been there.
As the crowd began to mutter among itself, the barkeep started cleaning another glass and smiled. Chevert would be back...tomorrow night.
