Summary:
This is about a young corsair searat who has been recruited by a
pirate captain. It's obviously from a bad guy's point of view,
although the character isn't truly a bad guy. The story mostly takes
place on the open sea, and there's a twist. This searat's shipmates
and captain end up following a ghost ship on the hunt for treasure.
Redwall with a supernatural twist! Enjoy!
The brazen sun
slowly breached the horizon, pouring forth brilliant molten rays of
gold across the sky. The heaving sea mirrored the dawn colours as it
lapped lazily against the dock.
A young searat leaned on a worn
wooden railing, gazing out across the sea and it's tossing
white-capped waves.
A light breeze blew from the sea, carrying a
fresh salty scent and playfully tugging at the rat's tunic.
He
sighed, suddenly wishing he was anywhere but here. He turned his head
and looked with disdain at the pirate haven behind him. Dim lights
could be seen in some building windows, and gray smoke billowed out
of stone chimneys. The rat was glad the wind was blowing from the sea
and not from the land, for the breeze would carry the foul stench of
the corsair settlement; grog, brine, and filth.
A sudden strong
wind gusted up from the ocean, making the rat turn. The strong sea
breeze made the waves leap and bubble and the anchored ships heave
and buck at their mooring ropes like rabid, chained hellbeasts. The
ship's timbers creaked and moaned and riggings hummed with tension.
The rat flinched as the waves slammed against the dock supports,
spraying icy sea water all over his dark fur. He wished he had his
cloak with him, for the wind had a biting chill to it, like cold
steel piercing skin.
Shivering, the rat started back for the
dock-side tavern to seek the warmth of a fire and perhaps a morning
beaker of ale. He walked briskly, the wooden boards groaning under
his footclaws. As he walked, he peered around at the many boats and
ships that were anchored here; merchant ships, shallow carracks,
narrow sloops, biremes, triremes, fishing boats, fat-bellied cogs,
and pirating and war ships of various sizes. He read some of the
names given to the vessels by their captains. A little fishing boat
that he passed was named the Sandpiper, a fitting name, he
thought. The Starless, a fair sized trireme built of a dark
wood lightly bumped the dock as the rat strode past, and several
creatures were unloading barrel and crates from a small merchant
carrack called the Drifter. He read some of the larger ship's
names, the Bloodsurge, the Harbinger, and the Wavehawk.
He soon passed under the shadow of one of the biggest vessels he had
ever seen: The Tempest. She had a great sweeping prow and
flowing black pennants snapped in the wind atop three towering masts.
He finally glimpsed the tavern between the hulking bows and
breathed a sigh of relief. He quickened his pace at the thought of
warmth, food and drink. His mind preoccupied, he did not notice the
ship he had just passed until he came under the shadow of it's prow.
Stopping, he read it's name.
The Deepmurk.
His
ship.
Well, not his ship. It was really his captain's, but
it would be his home on the open sea for as long as time would allow.
He admired the superb carpentry of the vessel; a lustrous, deep
chestnut coloured wood with a dark grain. She was a reletively new
addition to the corsair fleet of the seas, as he could still detect
the faint smell of freshly cut wood and resin. For some reason, this
filled the rat with a certain pride. He was to be a crewbeast on the
most beautiful ship (in his opinion) ever to sail the seas.
He
allowed a small smile to come to his lips, and was about to start
towards the tavern, when he heard gruff voices. Gazing around the
docks, he noticed three corsairs sitting on a row of crates. He
listened.
"Feel that? That's a devil's wind, it 'tis. Cold
an' dead. I kin feel it in me bones," said a large, burly rat.
A
sinewy ferret sat up, surprised.
"Devil's wind? How long
'ave ye' bin sailin' these seas for, eh?"
"I was born
on the waves, mate! Bin sailin' all me life."
"Well,
tis' gettin' to yer head. Devil's wind me foot!"
"Oho!
What's this, eh? Gettin' cheeky, are we? I should teach ye' lesson ya
won't soon ferget, mate!"
"Try it and y'll find me
cutlass through yer gizzard!"
"Makin' threats, eh? Yer
gonna 'ave to learn some respect fer yer elders!"
The rat
leapt up and brought out two rusted daggers from a broad, dull waist
sash. The ferret answered and brandished an evil looking cutlass. He
charged the rat.
The other pirate, another rat who had been silent
suddenly spoke up.
"Whoa there, mates! No point in fightin'!
'Sides, if'n the cap'n saw yers, she'd have yer 'heads on a
bowsprit!"
The ferret spat contemptuously, and was about to
reply, but he suddenly looked to where the young searat had been
standing and watching.
"Who's this then?", he said
nodding in the rat's direction, "Spyin' on us, were ye?",
he called over.
The rat froze. The pirate who had attempted to
break up the fight looked his way and spoke.
"Oh, that's the
new young'un! The cap'n just took 'im on. Part o' the crew, now."
The
ferret smiled evilly and grinned.
"Is he now? Haharr, fresh
meat!"
The burly rat sheathed his daggers and called
out.
"Ahoy there mate! Why don't ya come on over, an' we kin
'ave a nice liddle chat."
The rat gulped and slowly
approached his new crewmates, hoping they wouldn't gut him
alive.
Okay, so, do ya' like? Please review! Oh,
concerning flames: If you have any suggestions that's great, and
if you don't particularly like it, that's fine. Just don't
totally run it down to the ground. Thank you!
