*******Hello all! This is my first POTC fic so be gentle…like a kitten…or a marshmallow. Which ever you prefer. Yes, this is a Jack-OC fiction, just like most of 'em out there. But hey, what's one more right? If ya don't mind, could you review my story after readin' it? It would be most appreciated. So, um…yeah. Read and REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!!!
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Chapter One
*It seemed easy enough. Ride down from the central colonies, avoid thieves of all shape and size, stay along the coast, and find a way to hop a ship over to Port Royal with a horse…a big horse. Easy…yeah, right. As it turns out I didn't hop a ship, I didn't make it over to Port Royal, and I didn't stay along the coast, BUT I did avoid all thieves. Besides one. Then I seemed to be a magnet for all kinds of wrong doers from all corners of the world. And sitting here on this godforsaken piece of dirt, I can't stop thinking about him. No, no, no, its not like that! I mean I can't stop thinking about how I'm gonna rid the planet of him when I find him, or he finds me…which ever comes first. Before 'he' came along everything was fine and dandy. I made it all the way down to the Carolina colonies without a fuss, then he comes along. With his drunken walk, scallywag attitude, and imbecilic manor I knew he would be easy to loose and forget. Once again…yeah, right.
From the first moment I saw the man I had an instant disliking toward him. Don't get me wrong, I've been around his type before but, he was WAY to sure of himself for my taste. The surety he had that everyone had heard about him, and the repentant correcting about his title just drove me up the walls. Those hand gestures, that hat, the hair, and that…that, smirk! He had to be the most annoying, arrogant person I've every had the pleasure…uh, displeasure, of coming in contact with. Its because of him that almost every pirate on the coast and in the Caribbean is on my tail. He just couldn't keep his golden toothed mouth shut. And I absolutely, positively regret the moment I shook hands with that despicable man, and the only reason I'm thinking about him so much is because of the need to tear him limb from limb and throw him in the sea he loves so damn much!…At least that's what I keep telling myself…
I bet your pretty confused about this whole situation about now aren't ya? About who this man was, what he opened his trap about, where I am, and exactly who I am. Right? Well I suppose I could tell ya the story…if they don't get here first that is. I can almost smell their disgusting odor of sweat, salt, gunpowder, and strong rum. I'm not sure why these pirates smell different to me then 'he' does. Maybe I just got used to his smell…I had noticed that the smell of rum that always surrounded him, had slowly but surely, added the sweet spice smell to 'im. The salt that was gathered on his body from the years at sea had a bit of freshness to it now, that reminded me of a beach…Whoa there, gettin' a little off track! So do you really wanna know the story behind all of this blabbering? Hmm, should I be worried that I'm having a conversation with myself? Maybe someone really is listening? Ah well, I can worry about that later right? I need to get this out in the open.
Well how do I start? Once upon a time…no that won't work. How about this?
Once upon a day, in a village not so far away, down a dusty road and to the left a little…*
With secure homes and the plentiful number of single men, the small colonies of the Virginia settlements were perfectly suitable for a proper young woman growing up. They were of course surrounded by the larger more populated towns and villages, but many thought the smaller towns better for raising a sophisticated young lady. As many thought that, the idea itself didn't always turn out correct.
"Stupid…carriages…" a rough, but young, female voice hacked and coughed from a cloud of dust that rose behind the passing wealthy family. The thin tan sand like dirt clung to her old clothing as she continued her way down the street with the usual basket of kitchen needs and clothing material. Still waving a hand in front of her face in an attempt to clear the air around her, the young woman ran a hand through her hair that was now caked with the loose dirt, giving it an strange metallic feel. Her shoed feet that were currently shuffling down the path were almost entirely covered by the long brown cloak type piece she wore to protect her middle class dress from the elements, though it was already dirty. Her hair, which was stained a red brown tone, was chopped short an inch or two above her shoulders, unlike most of the girls her age who had long silken hair. The face, which was spotted with dust at the moment, showed a girl of seventeen or so with the young appearance of a fifteen year old, that she sometimes cursed. One clouded blue eye stared in front of her as she walked, and the other was hidden behind long bangs that brushed across her cheek bones.
"Think they own the whole road!" she yelled when the carriage was out of hearing range.
"They do own the road lass." a chuckling response came from behind her. "Them be the Smithsons, they own everythin' 'round here."
"Don't remind me…By the way Endinea, aren't those other rich wigs 'spose ta be in town this week?" the younger voice asked and turned to the elder woman who was approaching her from behind on a horse that was nearly as old as she was.
"Feh, who knows. All they be here ta talk 'bout is how ta make them rich richer and us poor poorer." the woman replies with a grunt. "That's how thing's are and there ain't no changin' it Ryder."
Ryder, as the younger woman was named, had heard this many times before. Endinea seemed to complain about the richies on a daily basis, and the conversation always ended on the same note.
"Ryder! Endinea! Get yer arses in 'er!" an gruff mans voice called from inside the small house that that women were approaching. Yep, same note, right on time.
"Yeah, yeah! Well your arse can wait a tick!" the oldest of the two yelled back while sliding off the bay horse and hitting the ground with a small thump. " 'ere Ryder, take this ol' flea bag ta the stable, I'll deal wit' ol' man river in there."
The young woman grabbed onto the reigns of the bridal as Endinea tossed them to her, and couldn't help but grin at the sound of the old pair fighting in the house. Once again, it was another thing she was used to and found much amusement in it most of the time. Seeing it that the woman usually won anyway.
A slight gust of wind flowed through the air and rustled the dirt on the ground, causing it to rise up in a whirlwind to the side of Ryder as she made her way to the rotted old barn. Off in the distance, the sound of the town could be heard coming over the line of trees. The life in an actual town tempted Ryder, without having to walk so far just to go to the market, or just to be around the more wealthy people. Thoughts like these always made her right eye twitch from behind its leather hiding place.
Yes, that leather hiding place. Another reason she didn't live in town was because of this cursed thing. Raising a hand, she brushed her finger tips across the smooth surface of her eye patch with a small wince. Now, it didn't hurt, physically that is. The causes that brought her eye to be in its current handicap was only known to her. Sometimes she would release her eye from its dark prison and look upon the world in all its black and white splendor. At least it was black and white to that eye. It was mostly flooded over with blood spots and numerous scars that stretched over to the flesh of her cheek. Luckily her hair mostly covered the practically deformed skin that seemed as if it had been used as a carving block for a cutlass. In a way she was glad she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with those two weathered old people. If she was in town, Ryder could only imagine how much of an outcast she would become. Scarface…Bloodeye…some of the nicknames she aloud Endinea and the old man to call her at times. Though she knew in town she would be called that, with her permission or not.
Tugging the bridal that was falling apart at the stitches, Ryder pushed he old mare into the stall and latched the door behind her. The smell of hay, grain, and horse hair drifted under the girls nose as her feet crunched across the top layer of soil that covered the ground. The sound of rustling leaves, arguing people and an agitated stallion rushed to her ears. Ah yes, the sound of a bored and grumpy two ton horse. Knowing that it definitely wasn't that old hag of a horse she just put away, Ryder was drawn toward the back lot of the property where the strong fences held in an even stronger creature. The thought to be 'untamable' Nero. A Spanish stallion that was presumably stolen from a trade ship while at dock in a town not far off. Of course Ryder had heard of the missing horse when he showed up in the pasture, but she couldn't bring herself to turn in the large beast. No one questioned how it happened, but the animal ended up staying within the confines of the fence without a fuss. And as far as the girl was concerned, Nero was far from untamable. So what if he had issues with almost every human he came in contact with? It didn't mean he was untamable now did it? It probably did to most, but to Ryder it just showed a challenge.
Stepping up to the fence that kept Nero from running off and terrorizing people, the young woman leaned her forearms on the post and watched as the horse demolished a defenseless bucket that found its way into his pasture. With hooves nearly the size of skillets, Nero was a very big force to be reckoned with. And the few proper people that she knew that Ryder was a complete heathen to even come within five feet of the stallion. Of course that made her want to get even closer to the horse. With his powerful legs and swift movements, Nero was any racers dream. And it was no different for Ryder. It didn't come to anyone's surprise when the girl began taking up riding horses, as he name suggested. But it did surprise them when she started with Nero in her first race. They were never officially judged races, just with the boys from down the road a way, but all of them took it just as seriously. They may not have high class parties, or beautiful ships to sail on, but they did have their racing and that was something that most people couldn't say. Especially the wealthy women.
"Ryder, get over 'ere lass!" Endinea called from the stoop of the house.
"Alright, alright." she mumbled in response and turned away from the still uneasy horse. Pulling up her dresses a bit, she jogged back toward her home, but had to stop for a moment or two to pull her shoe back on.
"Girl, I need ya ta run ta town for me. Take this 'ere money and give it ta Mrs. Somperton in the inn." the old woman said and tossed the listener a small bag of coins. Ryder opened her mouth and gapped at the woman.
"I don't think so! I just got back from town, if ya want ta pay 'er, give it ta 'er yerself!" she objected and threw the bag back.
"If ye want food, I gotta cook it don't I? I can't cook it if I'm in town now can I? If it's the walk yer worried about, just take Nero. He'll get ye there in good time." the reply came and the bag was thrown back.
"I can't take Nero! There's nowhere ta tie 'im up!"
"Then just tell 'em ta stay put, he listens to ya good." Endinea said with a grin and went back inside leaving Ryder to glare at a closed door. Letting out a loud sigh and rolling her eyes, she stomped back to the wide pasture with the bag of coins tied to a small rope around her waist, and a bridal, and riding cloth in her hand.
"Nero! Get over 'ere boy!" she called to the now content stallion. Pausing for a moment, she realized how rude everyone was around here. 'Get over 'ere, you', seemed to be a common saying. Yet another reason they probably wouldn't fit in around the richies. But, hey, if you said it they came, including Nero. The vibrations of his hoofs on the ground became more powerful as he came nearer to the fence gate. Pulling herself over the wooden logs of the gate, she dropped on the other side and tugged the leather bridal over the large horses head, and drooped the cloth over his broad back. Ryder unlatched the gate and opened it a bit before climbing up on the fence and swinging a leg over the midnight colored horse. Before kicking the gate the rest of the way open, the young woman situated herself on the horse and gave a small kick on his side. Though Ryder trusted Nero to an extent, she still held tightly onto the reigns in case he decided to go on a rampage.
*Well, that's how it all started out. Just a simple trip to the local inn to pay for all the drinks that old man had had down there. I don't think you'd be to interested in the ride down to town, nothing much happened of interest. Now, I had been to that Inn lots of times, but I had no idea what this one trip would get me into. I knew that that old hag was nothing but trouble. Sitting there in the corner, all pathetic like, with her moth eaten clothing, and that stupid necklace. That lady and that necklace got me into this position…well aside from 'him'. Anyway, here I was in the Inn just minding my own business when I catch that woman giving me a sour look. Usually I would just shrug it off, but there was something about her that gave me the creeps something terrible.*
" 'ere ya go Mrs. Somperton. It should be enough." Ryder said as she handed the middle aged woman behind the counter the bag of money. The red haired woman smiled and took the money while stepping aside to count it. The seventeen year old leaned to one side to look out the widow to make sure the weak little bench nearby was holding Nero in place. Letting out a sigh, she plopped down on the stool behind her and grumbled when a drunk from across the room gave a wink and a leering look her way. As many times as she had been here, she could never get used to the irritation she got whenever she got one of 'those' looks.
The crowd in the tavern was light as it usually was, with the assortment of drunks, whores, and travelers. Smells of salt were brought in from the sailors, along with the cheap smell of the whores they had been with. Rum, and any other kind of alcohol was also a main ingredient of the scent in the tavern. Her good eye roamed over the faces around her and came to rest a peculiar person. An old woman, that look as if she out dated Endinea by a few decades or so. Her hair was matted, gray in color, and as stringy as the old mare's back at the barn. The clothing that was draped around her was made of fine material, a kind that Ryder couldn't identify right away, and had holes here and there, apparently from years of wearing or years of being kept away in a dank place. Frail hands were wrapped around an object in an extremely protective manor, and her eyes…her eyes were focused right at the girl.
"Thank ye Ryder. And be sure ta tell that ol' man that there be plenty of rum down 'ere for 'im." Mrs. Somperton interrupted her thoughts and handed the empty bag back to her. With a brief nod and a smile, Ryder turned toward the door, but not before looking back toward the spot where she last saw that mysterious old hag. To the young woman's surprise, the strange elderly woman was nowhere to be seen. She put her hand on the grubby knob of the door and began to turn it, but not before she was interrupted by a strange sound. A song was it? It was muffled, but the voice was clearly dry and cracked. Looking around the establishment, she noticed that no one else had paused even for a brief second to listen. Did no one else hear it? Her eye moved around the room in an attempt to locate the source of the soft music. Moving back toward the bar, she listened as hard as he ears would allow. Lets see, the loud burp came from over there. The stiff laughter of a whore is over there. The song is…over there.
Ryder finally centered in on the heavy red curtain that covered a small door way to the right of the loud bar. Slowly, the girl stepped over to the curtain and gently pulled it back to reveal the small dining area which was set off from the rest of the tavern. In the center of the poorly lit room, a dark wooden table sat and was surrounded by cheaper looking chairs. Entering the room, the singing grew louder and Ryder finally saw were it was echoing from.
That creepy old woman. The haunting tune flowed through her lips and into Ryder's ears. Within the elder's hands was the object to which she was clinging to out in the bar area. A necklace, or amulet of some kind. The girl wouldn't have been staring at the old woman if her eyes were open, but at the moment they seemed to be locked shut in concentration. The thought of asking what the woman was doing crossed the girls mind once or twice, but it seemed that whatever she was doing seemed very important. So, as quietly as she came in, Ryder started to pull the curtain aside and escape back into the bar.
"Do not be afraid child."
The child that the woman was speaking of must have jumped three feet in the air at the sudden words. Ryder turned her still startled face toward the woman, who still had her eyes closed, but her face was pointed toward her.
"Afraid? What would give ya the idea that I was afraid?" she asked with a shaky smile at herself. Now that she thought about it, she did feel uncomfortable around this odd woman.
"Sit child." she stated plainly. Ryder could have easily just walked out of the room, but something told her to stay there. So she calmly walked over to the chair at the opposite end of the table and gingerly sat, with her hands place on the cool surface of the wooden top.
"You…own that horse. Correct, Ryder?" the woman questioned in an accent strange to Ryder.
"Nero…yeah, but…wait, how did ya know my…"
"That be not of any importance. Come closer child." Ryder was interrupted by the continuation of the woman's speaking. Swallowing a nervous lump that formed in her throat, she did as she was asked and moved over a few seats. After all, this woman had to be older then 90, what harm could she do?
"Look lady, I really got ta be gettin' home so if ya got somethin' ta say, say it quick."
"You are right child, time is short. But you must also take your time." the hag let out a dry chuckle and laid the necklace she was toying with on the table in front of Ryder.
Ryder had expected some fine jewel to be placed in the center of the large charm, but nothing could prepare her for what she saw resting on the piece of jewelry. It had to be the most…hideous stone she had ever seen in her life. Being deep brown in color with orange blotches, it looked like a rock that one would find on the side of the road…and not pick up. The only thing that she found attractive about the whole piece was the beautifully formed silver that framed the stone. Sharp points at three sides protruded from the center, and looked as if they could slice open the palm of its owner. But in the end, even the superb ness of the metal work could not bring the unwanted attention away from the less than perfect stone.
"Listen to me girl. I need ye to do me a favor of great importance. I am an old lady now and my days are numbered, so the possibility of me achieving this last goal of mine is few. You are young and your horse strong; I need you to bring this amulet to its rightful place in the Caribbean. Port Royal is where you must go." she explained and opened her eyes to reveal ice blue orbs. While listening, Ryder almost laughed.
"Let me get this straight old woman. Ya want me ta ride, not sail, down ta Port Royal, just so I can give this here trinket ta someone?"
"No you must not give it to anyone, for that would bring pain upon us all. You must put it in its place." the woman warned.
"Sooo, you want me ta just drop it off wherever ya tell me, right?"
"No, not where I tell you child."
"Oh, come on lady!" Ryder raised her voice at the woman's confusing directions. "I don't 'ave time for this, get someone else ta be yer errand girl woman!" with that, she pulled herself out of the chair and walked with a frustrated gate toward the curtain.
"Your father was a lawyer in England before he came here and met your mother…who was the daughter of a pirate and a whore. He was striped of everything he owned by the rest of his family before you were born, and they moved to the new settlements. They both died when you were ten."
Ryder stopped dead in her tracks. The first emotion that swept over her was anger at this woman talking about her family. The second feeling was grief over her parents and her lineage.
"I know all that there is to know of you. Of your family, that horse, and your scar. Please child, listen to what I have to say. I am not just a clueless old bag as many would believe. I can tell you things, things you need and want to know. So tell me, Ryder, do I have your attention?" the still unnamed woman asked with a slight hint of desperation in her voice. Turning her head toward her, Ryder gave her answer.
"I stopped walking didn't I?"
* I should have just kept on walking. But that woman did have my attention by then. Still to this day, I have no idea as to who she was or how she knew the things she did. Especially about my parents. Some of the things she told me…Well, lets just say that I didn't even know most of them. Most of the time, I chose not to believe her. Like the things she told me about the so called 'almighty power' of this cruddy piece of jewelry. But the more I carry this amulet, and the more I get chased down by fiends, that I'm not exactly sure are human, the more I start to believe what the hag told me. I wish I had believed her when I started out on this little trip. I probably would have been a lot better off. And now that I think about it, 'he' might have been one of the people she warned me about. Though, sometimes I'm not sure about that. Because without him, I probably would have been beheaded, disemboweled, and dismembered about ten times or so. I don't know what possessed him to stick with me for so long, but I guess I'm glad he did. But I still can't forgive him right off for opening his big rum soaked mouth about this hunk of junk.
Hmm, I wander if he's even looking for me? Probably not, I to much of a 'lard for brains, waste of cargo space' as he so poetically put it. I suppose its to much to ask for him to look for me. After all, I did almost wreck his beloved boat. That's right I said boat, not ship. Hehe, that would probably really burn his boots. Though I did almost destroy his pride and joy, that's still no reason for him to do what he did. And guess what? I don't what him to find me! I'm fine all by myself, I don't need that insufferable man to take care of me! Do I?
Ah. Just go away, I need to sleep. I'll finish telling this so called 'adventurous' story in the morning. Oh, and if you stay up and, ya know, 'he' come sauntering by, don't tell him about all I said. Savvy? Oh…oh no. That blasted man and his speech!*
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Chapter One
*It seemed easy enough. Ride down from the central colonies, avoid thieves of all shape and size, stay along the coast, and find a way to hop a ship over to Port Royal with a horse…a big horse. Easy…yeah, right. As it turns out I didn't hop a ship, I didn't make it over to Port Royal, and I didn't stay along the coast, BUT I did avoid all thieves. Besides one. Then I seemed to be a magnet for all kinds of wrong doers from all corners of the world. And sitting here on this godforsaken piece of dirt, I can't stop thinking about him. No, no, no, its not like that! I mean I can't stop thinking about how I'm gonna rid the planet of him when I find him, or he finds me…which ever comes first. Before 'he' came along everything was fine and dandy. I made it all the way down to the Carolina colonies without a fuss, then he comes along. With his drunken walk, scallywag attitude, and imbecilic manor I knew he would be easy to loose and forget. Once again…yeah, right.
From the first moment I saw the man I had an instant disliking toward him. Don't get me wrong, I've been around his type before but, he was WAY to sure of himself for my taste. The surety he had that everyone had heard about him, and the repentant correcting about his title just drove me up the walls. Those hand gestures, that hat, the hair, and that…that, smirk! He had to be the most annoying, arrogant person I've every had the pleasure…uh, displeasure, of coming in contact with. Its because of him that almost every pirate on the coast and in the Caribbean is on my tail. He just couldn't keep his golden toothed mouth shut. And I absolutely, positively regret the moment I shook hands with that despicable man, and the only reason I'm thinking about him so much is because of the need to tear him limb from limb and throw him in the sea he loves so damn much!…At least that's what I keep telling myself…
I bet your pretty confused about this whole situation about now aren't ya? About who this man was, what he opened his trap about, where I am, and exactly who I am. Right? Well I suppose I could tell ya the story…if they don't get here first that is. I can almost smell their disgusting odor of sweat, salt, gunpowder, and strong rum. I'm not sure why these pirates smell different to me then 'he' does. Maybe I just got used to his smell…I had noticed that the smell of rum that always surrounded him, had slowly but surely, added the sweet spice smell to 'im. The salt that was gathered on his body from the years at sea had a bit of freshness to it now, that reminded me of a beach…Whoa there, gettin' a little off track! So do you really wanna know the story behind all of this blabbering? Hmm, should I be worried that I'm having a conversation with myself? Maybe someone really is listening? Ah well, I can worry about that later right? I need to get this out in the open.
Well how do I start? Once upon a time…no that won't work. How about this?
Once upon a day, in a village not so far away, down a dusty road and to the left a little…*
With secure homes and the plentiful number of single men, the small colonies of the Virginia settlements were perfectly suitable for a proper young woman growing up. They were of course surrounded by the larger more populated towns and villages, but many thought the smaller towns better for raising a sophisticated young lady. As many thought that, the idea itself didn't always turn out correct.
"Stupid…carriages…" a rough, but young, female voice hacked and coughed from a cloud of dust that rose behind the passing wealthy family. The thin tan sand like dirt clung to her old clothing as she continued her way down the street with the usual basket of kitchen needs and clothing material. Still waving a hand in front of her face in an attempt to clear the air around her, the young woman ran a hand through her hair that was now caked with the loose dirt, giving it an strange metallic feel. Her shoed feet that were currently shuffling down the path were almost entirely covered by the long brown cloak type piece she wore to protect her middle class dress from the elements, though it was already dirty. Her hair, which was stained a red brown tone, was chopped short an inch or two above her shoulders, unlike most of the girls her age who had long silken hair. The face, which was spotted with dust at the moment, showed a girl of seventeen or so with the young appearance of a fifteen year old, that she sometimes cursed. One clouded blue eye stared in front of her as she walked, and the other was hidden behind long bangs that brushed across her cheek bones.
"Think they own the whole road!" she yelled when the carriage was out of hearing range.
"They do own the road lass." a chuckling response came from behind her. "Them be the Smithsons, they own everythin' 'round here."
"Don't remind me…By the way Endinea, aren't those other rich wigs 'spose ta be in town this week?" the younger voice asked and turned to the elder woman who was approaching her from behind on a horse that was nearly as old as she was.
"Feh, who knows. All they be here ta talk 'bout is how ta make them rich richer and us poor poorer." the woman replies with a grunt. "That's how thing's are and there ain't no changin' it Ryder."
Ryder, as the younger woman was named, had heard this many times before. Endinea seemed to complain about the richies on a daily basis, and the conversation always ended on the same note.
"Ryder! Endinea! Get yer arses in 'er!" an gruff mans voice called from inside the small house that that women were approaching. Yep, same note, right on time.
"Yeah, yeah! Well your arse can wait a tick!" the oldest of the two yelled back while sliding off the bay horse and hitting the ground with a small thump. " 'ere Ryder, take this ol' flea bag ta the stable, I'll deal wit' ol' man river in there."
The young woman grabbed onto the reigns of the bridal as Endinea tossed them to her, and couldn't help but grin at the sound of the old pair fighting in the house. Once again, it was another thing she was used to and found much amusement in it most of the time. Seeing it that the woman usually won anyway.
A slight gust of wind flowed through the air and rustled the dirt on the ground, causing it to rise up in a whirlwind to the side of Ryder as she made her way to the rotted old barn. Off in the distance, the sound of the town could be heard coming over the line of trees. The life in an actual town tempted Ryder, without having to walk so far just to go to the market, or just to be around the more wealthy people. Thoughts like these always made her right eye twitch from behind its leather hiding place.
Yes, that leather hiding place. Another reason she didn't live in town was because of this cursed thing. Raising a hand, she brushed her finger tips across the smooth surface of her eye patch with a small wince. Now, it didn't hurt, physically that is. The causes that brought her eye to be in its current handicap was only known to her. Sometimes she would release her eye from its dark prison and look upon the world in all its black and white splendor. At least it was black and white to that eye. It was mostly flooded over with blood spots and numerous scars that stretched over to the flesh of her cheek. Luckily her hair mostly covered the practically deformed skin that seemed as if it had been used as a carving block for a cutlass. In a way she was glad she was stuck in the middle of nowhere with those two weathered old people. If she was in town, Ryder could only imagine how much of an outcast she would become. Scarface…Bloodeye…some of the nicknames she aloud Endinea and the old man to call her at times. Though she knew in town she would be called that, with her permission or not.
Tugging the bridal that was falling apart at the stitches, Ryder pushed he old mare into the stall and latched the door behind her. The smell of hay, grain, and horse hair drifted under the girls nose as her feet crunched across the top layer of soil that covered the ground. The sound of rustling leaves, arguing people and an agitated stallion rushed to her ears. Ah yes, the sound of a bored and grumpy two ton horse. Knowing that it definitely wasn't that old hag of a horse she just put away, Ryder was drawn toward the back lot of the property where the strong fences held in an even stronger creature. The thought to be 'untamable' Nero. A Spanish stallion that was presumably stolen from a trade ship while at dock in a town not far off. Of course Ryder had heard of the missing horse when he showed up in the pasture, but she couldn't bring herself to turn in the large beast. No one questioned how it happened, but the animal ended up staying within the confines of the fence without a fuss. And as far as the girl was concerned, Nero was far from untamable. So what if he had issues with almost every human he came in contact with? It didn't mean he was untamable now did it? It probably did to most, but to Ryder it just showed a challenge.
Stepping up to the fence that kept Nero from running off and terrorizing people, the young woman leaned her forearms on the post and watched as the horse demolished a defenseless bucket that found its way into his pasture. With hooves nearly the size of skillets, Nero was a very big force to be reckoned with. And the few proper people that she knew that Ryder was a complete heathen to even come within five feet of the stallion. Of course that made her want to get even closer to the horse. With his powerful legs and swift movements, Nero was any racers dream. And it was no different for Ryder. It didn't come to anyone's surprise when the girl began taking up riding horses, as he name suggested. But it did surprise them when she started with Nero in her first race. They were never officially judged races, just with the boys from down the road a way, but all of them took it just as seriously. They may not have high class parties, or beautiful ships to sail on, but they did have their racing and that was something that most people couldn't say. Especially the wealthy women.
"Ryder, get over 'ere lass!" Endinea called from the stoop of the house.
"Alright, alright." she mumbled in response and turned away from the still uneasy horse. Pulling up her dresses a bit, she jogged back toward her home, but had to stop for a moment or two to pull her shoe back on.
"Girl, I need ya ta run ta town for me. Take this 'ere money and give it ta Mrs. Somperton in the inn." the old woman said and tossed the listener a small bag of coins. Ryder opened her mouth and gapped at the woman.
"I don't think so! I just got back from town, if ya want ta pay 'er, give it ta 'er yerself!" she objected and threw the bag back.
"If ye want food, I gotta cook it don't I? I can't cook it if I'm in town now can I? If it's the walk yer worried about, just take Nero. He'll get ye there in good time." the reply came and the bag was thrown back.
"I can't take Nero! There's nowhere ta tie 'im up!"
"Then just tell 'em ta stay put, he listens to ya good." Endinea said with a grin and went back inside leaving Ryder to glare at a closed door. Letting out a loud sigh and rolling her eyes, she stomped back to the wide pasture with the bag of coins tied to a small rope around her waist, and a bridal, and riding cloth in her hand.
"Nero! Get over 'ere boy!" she called to the now content stallion. Pausing for a moment, she realized how rude everyone was around here. 'Get over 'ere, you', seemed to be a common saying. Yet another reason they probably wouldn't fit in around the richies. But, hey, if you said it they came, including Nero. The vibrations of his hoofs on the ground became more powerful as he came nearer to the fence gate. Pulling herself over the wooden logs of the gate, she dropped on the other side and tugged the leather bridal over the large horses head, and drooped the cloth over his broad back. Ryder unlatched the gate and opened it a bit before climbing up on the fence and swinging a leg over the midnight colored horse. Before kicking the gate the rest of the way open, the young woman situated herself on the horse and gave a small kick on his side. Though Ryder trusted Nero to an extent, she still held tightly onto the reigns in case he decided to go on a rampage.
*Well, that's how it all started out. Just a simple trip to the local inn to pay for all the drinks that old man had had down there. I don't think you'd be to interested in the ride down to town, nothing much happened of interest. Now, I had been to that Inn lots of times, but I had no idea what this one trip would get me into. I knew that that old hag was nothing but trouble. Sitting there in the corner, all pathetic like, with her moth eaten clothing, and that stupid necklace. That lady and that necklace got me into this position…well aside from 'him'. Anyway, here I was in the Inn just minding my own business when I catch that woman giving me a sour look. Usually I would just shrug it off, but there was something about her that gave me the creeps something terrible.*
" 'ere ya go Mrs. Somperton. It should be enough." Ryder said as she handed the middle aged woman behind the counter the bag of money. The red haired woman smiled and took the money while stepping aside to count it. The seventeen year old leaned to one side to look out the widow to make sure the weak little bench nearby was holding Nero in place. Letting out a sigh, she plopped down on the stool behind her and grumbled when a drunk from across the room gave a wink and a leering look her way. As many times as she had been here, she could never get used to the irritation she got whenever she got one of 'those' looks.
The crowd in the tavern was light as it usually was, with the assortment of drunks, whores, and travelers. Smells of salt were brought in from the sailors, along with the cheap smell of the whores they had been with. Rum, and any other kind of alcohol was also a main ingredient of the scent in the tavern. Her good eye roamed over the faces around her and came to rest a peculiar person. An old woman, that look as if she out dated Endinea by a few decades or so. Her hair was matted, gray in color, and as stringy as the old mare's back at the barn. The clothing that was draped around her was made of fine material, a kind that Ryder couldn't identify right away, and had holes here and there, apparently from years of wearing or years of being kept away in a dank place. Frail hands were wrapped around an object in an extremely protective manor, and her eyes…her eyes were focused right at the girl.
"Thank ye Ryder. And be sure ta tell that ol' man that there be plenty of rum down 'ere for 'im." Mrs. Somperton interrupted her thoughts and handed the empty bag back to her. With a brief nod and a smile, Ryder turned toward the door, but not before looking back toward the spot where she last saw that mysterious old hag. To the young woman's surprise, the strange elderly woman was nowhere to be seen. She put her hand on the grubby knob of the door and began to turn it, but not before she was interrupted by a strange sound. A song was it? It was muffled, but the voice was clearly dry and cracked. Looking around the establishment, she noticed that no one else had paused even for a brief second to listen. Did no one else hear it? Her eye moved around the room in an attempt to locate the source of the soft music. Moving back toward the bar, she listened as hard as he ears would allow. Lets see, the loud burp came from over there. The stiff laughter of a whore is over there. The song is…over there.
Ryder finally centered in on the heavy red curtain that covered a small door way to the right of the loud bar. Slowly, the girl stepped over to the curtain and gently pulled it back to reveal the small dining area which was set off from the rest of the tavern. In the center of the poorly lit room, a dark wooden table sat and was surrounded by cheaper looking chairs. Entering the room, the singing grew louder and Ryder finally saw were it was echoing from.
That creepy old woman. The haunting tune flowed through her lips and into Ryder's ears. Within the elder's hands was the object to which she was clinging to out in the bar area. A necklace, or amulet of some kind. The girl wouldn't have been staring at the old woman if her eyes were open, but at the moment they seemed to be locked shut in concentration. The thought of asking what the woman was doing crossed the girls mind once or twice, but it seemed that whatever she was doing seemed very important. So, as quietly as she came in, Ryder started to pull the curtain aside and escape back into the bar.
"Do not be afraid child."
The child that the woman was speaking of must have jumped three feet in the air at the sudden words. Ryder turned her still startled face toward the woman, who still had her eyes closed, but her face was pointed toward her.
"Afraid? What would give ya the idea that I was afraid?" she asked with a shaky smile at herself. Now that she thought about it, she did feel uncomfortable around this odd woman.
"Sit child." she stated plainly. Ryder could have easily just walked out of the room, but something told her to stay there. So she calmly walked over to the chair at the opposite end of the table and gingerly sat, with her hands place on the cool surface of the wooden top.
"You…own that horse. Correct, Ryder?" the woman questioned in an accent strange to Ryder.
"Nero…yeah, but…wait, how did ya know my…"
"That be not of any importance. Come closer child." Ryder was interrupted by the continuation of the woman's speaking. Swallowing a nervous lump that formed in her throat, she did as she was asked and moved over a few seats. After all, this woman had to be older then 90, what harm could she do?
"Look lady, I really got ta be gettin' home so if ya got somethin' ta say, say it quick."
"You are right child, time is short. But you must also take your time." the hag let out a dry chuckle and laid the necklace she was toying with on the table in front of Ryder.
Ryder had expected some fine jewel to be placed in the center of the large charm, but nothing could prepare her for what she saw resting on the piece of jewelry. It had to be the most…hideous stone she had ever seen in her life. Being deep brown in color with orange blotches, it looked like a rock that one would find on the side of the road…and not pick up. The only thing that she found attractive about the whole piece was the beautifully formed silver that framed the stone. Sharp points at three sides protruded from the center, and looked as if they could slice open the palm of its owner. But in the end, even the superb ness of the metal work could not bring the unwanted attention away from the less than perfect stone.
"Listen to me girl. I need ye to do me a favor of great importance. I am an old lady now and my days are numbered, so the possibility of me achieving this last goal of mine is few. You are young and your horse strong; I need you to bring this amulet to its rightful place in the Caribbean. Port Royal is where you must go." she explained and opened her eyes to reveal ice blue orbs. While listening, Ryder almost laughed.
"Let me get this straight old woman. Ya want me ta ride, not sail, down ta Port Royal, just so I can give this here trinket ta someone?"
"No you must not give it to anyone, for that would bring pain upon us all. You must put it in its place." the woman warned.
"Sooo, you want me ta just drop it off wherever ya tell me, right?"
"No, not where I tell you child."
"Oh, come on lady!" Ryder raised her voice at the woman's confusing directions. "I don't 'ave time for this, get someone else ta be yer errand girl woman!" with that, she pulled herself out of the chair and walked with a frustrated gate toward the curtain.
"Your father was a lawyer in England before he came here and met your mother…who was the daughter of a pirate and a whore. He was striped of everything he owned by the rest of his family before you were born, and they moved to the new settlements. They both died when you were ten."
Ryder stopped dead in her tracks. The first emotion that swept over her was anger at this woman talking about her family. The second feeling was grief over her parents and her lineage.
"I know all that there is to know of you. Of your family, that horse, and your scar. Please child, listen to what I have to say. I am not just a clueless old bag as many would believe. I can tell you things, things you need and want to know. So tell me, Ryder, do I have your attention?" the still unnamed woman asked with a slight hint of desperation in her voice. Turning her head toward her, Ryder gave her answer.
"I stopped walking didn't I?"
* I should have just kept on walking. But that woman did have my attention by then. Still to this day, I have no idea as to who she was or how she knew the things she did. Especially about my parents. Some of the things she told me…Well, lets just say that I didn't even know most of them. Most of the time, I chose not to believe her. Like the things she told me about the so called 'almighty power' of this cruddy piece of jewelry. But the more I carry this amulet, and the more I get chased down by fiends, that I'm not exactly sure are human, the more I start to believe what the hag told me. I wish I had believed her when I started out on this little trip. I probably would have been a lot better off. And now that I think about it, 'he' might have been one of the people she warned me about. Though, sometimes I'm not sure about that. Because without him, I probably would have been beheaded, disemboweled, and dismembered about ten times or so. I don't know what possessed him to stick with me for so long, but I guess I'm glad he did. But I still can't forgive him right off for opening his big rum soaked mouth about this hunk of junk.
Hmm, I wander if he's even looking for me? Probably not, I to much of a 'lard for brains, waste of cargo space' as he so poetically put it. I suppose its to much to ask for him to look for me. After all, I did almost wreck his beloved boat. That's right I said boat, not ship. Hehe, that would probably really burn his boots. Though I did almost destroy his pride and joy, that's still no reason for him to do what he did. And guess what? I don't what him to find me! I'm fine all by myself, I don't need that insufferable man to take care of me! Do I?
Ah. Just go away, I need to sleep. I'll finish telling this so called 'adventurous' story in the morning. Oh, and if you stay up and, ya know, 'he' come sauntering by, don't tell him about all I said. Savvy? Oh…oh no. That blasted man and his speech!*