Author's Notes: A busy chapter, and another familiar face!
I was reading the reviews, and it seems that there are a lot of terms/situations that are going unexplained or are difficult to understand. I've explained the ones I thought might be the most troublesome, but if there are any that you'd like explained, please let me know! I'd hate to think that anyone's having trouble because I'm not being as clear as I could be.
Speaking of notes: I think it worked really well to add them to the bottom of the chapter, so that's where they are this time (and in my profile, as well). Many thanks to all of my readers, and especially those of you who've taken the time to drop me a line and let me know you're enjoying the story!
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Go No More A-roving: Stormy Winds do Blow
It wasn't that he didn't know how to fight. That wasn't the problem at all. No, the problem was that the way he'd been taught to fight had a one hundred percent chance of getting him killed in a sea battle. Rolo knocked the tip of his sword hard with the tang of his own, knocking it out of his hand. Lelouch swore.
"Again," Rolo commanded, rocking back into a ready stance. Lelouch retrieved his sword from the ground and balanced the tip between Rolo's eyes. Rolo's sword flashed like lightning, leaving Lelouch clutching his wrist, sword between their feet again. "Again," Rolo repeated, irritation creeping into his voice.
"You're not giving me time to get ready!" Lelouch complained, rolling his wrist against the pain.
Rolo scoffed. "You think they're going to give you time to get ready? You've got to be faster than that. Again."
Huffing, Lelouch squared his shoulders. Holding his sword extended, he lowered the tip from its tourney position, satisfied when Rolo didn't knock it from his hand again. He brought his nonfighting hand up to curl behind him in balance, and Rolo sputtered, giggling.
"What the hell is that, Lelouch?" Rolo asked between laughter. He struck a fancy pose, mocking Lelouch's stance.
"It's the correct stance," Lelouch protested stiffly.
Rolo shook his head. "It's silly, and it's likely to get that hand chopped off, if you're waving it in the air. Try it again; less posing this time and more sword fighting."
Growling, Lelouch shifted, dropping his arm to fold it behind his back neatly. Rolo rolled his eyes. This time, when Lelouch balanced the tip of his sword at eye level, Rolo reached beneath it with his own, smacking the flat of the blade hard against Lelouch's ribs.
"Ouch!" Lelouch yelped. "Whoreson!" Rolo smacked him again in the thigh.
"You're dead now, I hope you know. While you're busy making sure you do everything by the book, I've cut you to the quick once, and let you bleed out on the deck the other," Rolo informed him.
"I can't help it!" Lelouch complained, rubbing at the bruises that were already forming on his leg. "You've no sense of decorum."
"Not when it comes to living and dying, no," Rolo agreed. "Again."
"Again?!" Lelouch cried, dismayed. "You unholy taskmaster!"
"Oh, come on. It's not so bad," Kallen said from her position watching the duel. "You should be able to take more of a beating than that. I doubt it even hurt you!"
Wincing, Lelouch pulled up the edge of his shirt to look at the already purpling mark stretched across his skin. "Mercy, Rolo. I think I've had enough for today."
"One more time," Rolo insisted. Lelouch groaned piteously, and Rolo relented. "I'll make a bruise cream for you if you do it one more time."
Peering over at Rolo sideways, Lelouch made a show of considering it. "I'll practice again--if you can find someone capable of fighting by the book. I'm not as bad at this as you people think I am," he insisted, pouting. "You just don't follow the rules."
"There aren't any rules to fighting for your life," Rolo scolded.
"Hm," Kallen considered. "The prince would probably know how to do this stuff, wouldn't he? I'll bring him up for an exhibition." Snapping her fingers, she motioned for a sailor to bring Gino up. The familiar tousled blond head popped up, and Lelouch sighed, compressing his slightly swollen wrist with his other hand.
"We're to duel," Lelouch informed him. "Fencing, actually. To points, not kills." He cast a glance at Kallen, who looked gleefully disappointed at the lack of blood.
"Epees or foils?" Gino asked.
Cocking an eyebrow at the sword he held in his hand, Lelouch saluted him. "Sabers."
"Brilliant," Gino cheered. "Haven't done that one since school. Don't mangle me too badly flailing around there, Lelouch. Whatever you do, don't hit the face."
"I'll try not to," Lelouch said dryly. Toeing a single board to indicate the field, he nodded for Rolo to hand off his sword to Gino and saluted, metal singing in the air as it swooshed by his ear. Gino returned the salute, and the game was on.
Gino acted first, a double lunge that, combined with the man's ridiculously long reach, almost scored a point before Lelouch danced back a step, arm crossing to block the sword, sending it sliding harmlessly to his left. As Gino retreated, Lelouch darted forward, thrusting sharply in the direction of Gino's left shoulder. Gino stepped back, crossing his body with his sword before parrying. Lelouch swung at his head at the same time Gino thrust forward. Gino's sword made contact first, the tip resting against the thick oilskin draped over Lelouch's shoulder.
"First blood," Gino announced wryly. Frowning, Lelouch stepped back into starting position, arm raised for balance. Gino settled his free hand in the small of his back and they saluted, slicing the air in sharp, identical movements. Lelouch dove forward in a lunge, coming in under Gino's arm to score a point.
"Two of three?" he asked the man as they stepped back into starting positions.
"Sounds good to me. Match point, then," Gino agreed cordially. Their faces hardened as they saluted again, eyeing each other warily. Gino swung first, striking Lelouch's sword just above the tang with a hit that numbed his fingers. Swearing, Lelouch jerked back, retreating almost to the end of his line before slamming forward with a bruising lunge of his own. Gino parried and returned the hit until the tips of their swords were slicing through the air with deadly accuracy, clashing together like thunder. Lelouch swung to block, the tip of his sword dipping with fatigue, and the edge of Gino's blade slid smooth across his cheek, raising a narrow band of blood. Gino stepped back, horrified.
"Fair game, my lord," Lelouch said, fingertips coming up to test the cut. "Struck true."
"What did you do?" Rolo demanded, voice hushed.
Gino shook his head desperately. "I'm so sorry!"
"It's fine," Lelouch said peevishly, smearing the blood across his cheek with his thumb. "It's not deep."
"If it scars--!" Gino protested.
Lelouch shrugged, "Then it scars. It was an accident."
Looking at Lelouch doubtfully, Rolo pulled his face down so he could apply a tincture to the cut. "That doesn't make it okay," Rolo insisted.
"But it doesn't make it wrong, either," Lelouch said simply.
"That was impressive," Kallen cut in. "You're not half as useless as I thought you were," he told Gino. "It's a pity I can't use you on my crew; could you imagine the gossip that would come of a prince fighting on a pirate crew?"
"Yes, imagine," Lelouch replied drolly. Gino's lips twitched in a smile.
"You, on the other hand," she said, turning to eye Lelouch speculatively. "There's something there we can work with. We've just got to unteach you all that fancy stuff."
Lelouch bowed with a flourish, stopping short to wince. "Thank you, but I think I should go lie down. Rolo's vicious," he said ruefully, touching his fingertips tenderly to the bruise on his ribs.
"Well, I know I don't have to worry about him in battle," Kallen agreed, winking to Rolo. Gino laughed. "And now, my lord, it's time we got you back to the brig," she told him.
His face dropped. "Please can't I stay up here for a little longer? Please?" Kallen looked thoughtful, and he rushed on. "It's not like I'd be able to go anywhere. We're surrounded by open sea for mi--oh." He stepped forward, shading his eyes. "Maybe not."
Lelouch looked to where Gino pointed, a dark shape hovering on the horizon. He could make out the gilded side of a pleasure vessel, recognizing it instantly. Looking at Gino, he shook his head. "No, you should go back below. I want to take this one."
"This one?" Kallen scoffed. "What could it possibly be worth? It's just some rich bastard's leisure ship. They don't ever have anything interesting on them. I know it's easy to be lured in by the fancy look of it, but if there's more than three pounds to rub together, I'll be shocked."
Lelouch frowned, shaking his head again. "No, not this one. I have a good feeling about this one; it's worth something."
Kallen shrugged. "If you want to waste your test on small fry like this one, so be it. You only get one test, though, so don't blow it because you're scared to go after something bigger."
Lelouch eyed the Britannian flag as it whipped over the other ship's mast. "No," he said, shifting in readiness. "This is the one I want."
Nodding, Kallen went to alert her men. Gino moved to the rail, squinting at the ship as it drew closer. There were perhaps four men on the deck; at three watches, that meant a total crew of perhaps a dozen, give or take--Gino gasped, drawing back from the rail to stare at Lelouch.
"That's the Camellia," he hissed.
Lelouch's smile unfolded slowly, widening. "I know."
Behind them, Tamaki was running the blacks; the only sound on deck was the whipping of the canvas as it was lofted into the wind and the pirates disappeared below. The flag unfurled, revealing a grinning skull flanked by an hourglass and a dagger dripping red blood. They'd made their declaration.
The Camellia drew starboard, aware that she was outmatched. Under Kallen's excellent instruction, the Egalité followed suit, slipping smoothly alongside her. There were only four guns on her side, and Egalité outclassed her, six guns trained on her fine, polished wood. Lelouch held his hand up and dropped it in a slashing motion; thunder cracked beneath then, a hole opening in the water before Camellia as he issued the warning shot. If he judged correctly, she wouldn't put up much of a fight. He doubted she'd risk her precious cargo.
"Get below deck, Gino," he ordered calmly. Protesting, Gino started to speak but Lelouch cut him off. "If they recognize you, this whole game is over."
Gino stared at him. "And if they recognize you at the bow?"
"Then they recognize me. It'll lend credence to the captain's claims of capturing me," Lelouch replied evenly. Gino swore, turning to go. He turned back abruptly, opening his mouth to say something, and closed it with a click. "Go, friend," Lelouch murmured soothingly. "I'd feel better if you weren't at risk, anyway."
"I'm supposed to protect you," Gino said frowning.
Lelouch shrugged. "Then do it by keeping my secrets for me. Go back down and pretend to be a prince." Letting out a shuddering sigh, Gino turned, storming back below decks. Lelouch turned to Rolo. "Now help me by making sure they don't shoot me," he instructed, cupping his hand around his mouth.
"Ahoy, there!" he called, hailing the sailors on the deck of the other ship. He could see them clearer now, mostly young sailors. There weren't any familiar faces among them. The ship's owner was nowhere to be seen. Lifting his hand to his mouth again, he yelled, "I say, you there! Sailors of the Camellia! Who speaks for you?"
"We make it a point not to speak with pirates!" a voice drifted back over the water. Lelouch dropped his hand, issuing another warning shot. This one grazed the bowsprit, taking off the head of the figurehead.
"Who speaks for you?" he asked again.
The sailors seemed to converse heatedly among themselves. "I will speak for us," one of them yelled back. His golden hair gleamed in the sunlight, and Lelouch's mouth curled in recognition.
"By what right do you speak for the Camellia?" he asked sardonically. If the man overplayed his position, it would solve a lot of his own problems, he figured, and waited eagerly for the response.
"I…I am elected to do so!" the man yelled back.
Lelouch let out a sigh he wasn't expecting. This would go painlessly, then. He was relieved to have avoided a murder or kidnapping. "We are the Egalité, led by the fearsome Captain Kozuki!" he informed them.
He could practically see the man's eyes roll on the other deck. "I know that. I can read as well as you," the man responded tartly.
Lelouch grinned to himself, deciding to take a risk. He played his hand: "I know your ship."
Silence. Then, "You must have mistaken us with someone else. We're nothing but a pleasure ship, privately owned for the touring of these blue waters."
"Then you won't mind if we board you to look for items--and persons?--of interest," Lelouch suggested, smiling wolfishly.
The man paused. "What are your terms for surrender?" he asked reluctantly.
"I will give you quarter," Lelouch said. Behind him, he heard Kallen hiss in displeasure and shook her off. "In return, you will give me everything of value on your ship. I will know if you omit anything."
"Everything I own in exchange for quarter?" the man summed up dourly.
"Even the chablis!" Lelouch couldn't resist adding playfully. The man swore colorfully. "And the liqueurs!"
"Brigand!" the man called miserably. "Yes, damn you. Even the chablis and liqueurs."
Kallen made a sound of disbelief as Lelouch grinned, gesturing for a nearby seaman to lash the ships together as they neared. The man from the other ship paced unhappily across his deck like a lion as his sailors began loading everything of worth onto the Egalité. "How did you know about that?" he demanded, pointing at Lelouch.
At Lelouch's smirk, he paled in recognition. "I told you, sir, I recognize this ship. I'm sure you'll agree that I've dealt with you quite fairly," Lelouch said sensibly.
"How--?" the man sputtered. "You're not--?"
"No," Lelouch agreed smoothly. "I'm not."
"Le--"
Lelouch cut him off with a warning wave. "No names between us, good sir, unless you'd rather I let your own slip?" he suggested. The man shook his head regretfully. A sailor approached, informing Lelouch of the completion of the transfer. Lelouch turned, examining the pile of crates and barrels left in the center of his deck. Satisfied, he nodded at the blond man from the other ship. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, sir."
"I--thank you. For being so gentle with it," the man replied, embarrassed.
"Any time," Lelouch responded silkily. "In fact, next time you're in these waters, I may pay you another visit. You have such delightful hospitality."
"Indeed," the man said, laughing. He hesitated, offering his hand. "I do hope to see you again, under better circumstances. Home, perhaps?"
Lelouch frowned, shrugging away from the gesture. "Unlikely. I'll head to hell before I find myself making port there. No," he added, casting a glance to Kallen, "we're headed for someplace a good deal warmer. Hispaniola, perhaps." His tone was deceptively casual. The man nodded as Lelouch stepped back to his own ship and slashed the lashings.
"I'm going to paint you, you know!" the other man called as the ships drifted apart.
"I rather expected it!" Lelouch yelled back, waving. Kallen snorted with amusement and he turned to her, where she was inspecting the meager pile distrustingly.
"That may have been the most cordial looting I've ever seen," she said, poking at a barrel with the tip of her sword.
"Even moreso than when you took us?" he asked, circling the pile until he found what he was looking for: three crates labeled in French.
"Hm," Kallen hummed in agreement, frowning. "But this is still pitiful pickings," she informed him bluntly. "And you've wasted your chance."
"Oh, that's a pity," he replied absently, cracking the top of one of the cases open with the hilt of his sword. Dark wine bottles gleamed from their straw packing, proudly boasting their incredible age. Kallen gasped and he grinned at her, lifting one out to display it proudly. It was a good vintage; Clovis had always had good taste. "Sometimes there's a great deal more to be found in unexpected places than you may expect from appearances."
She gaped at him and he toasted her, swigging directly from the neck of the bottle.
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Chapter Notes: The fencing match is based on my admittedly thin recollections of the rules of engagement in official fencing games. The field of play is a straight line, usually about twelve feet long, and moving from this line is a fault. Foils, epees, and sabers are each types of swords used in fencing; each has its own style and rules. For more info, check out the link on my profile, where you can read the official rules for the modern sport according to the US Olympic team. For the record? Saber fighting without full chain torso protection and a face mask is really, really dumb.
Also, the bowsprit is the long pole extending from the front of the ship. Just below it is the figurehead, a carving of a person--usually a woman but sometimes an animal--that distinguishes the ship from all others.