I entertained thoughts of negotiating with the kidnapper, but the brutality of the abduction led me to believe that the man couldn't be trusted, his negotiations...slightly unfair.
I carefully crept up the gangway, trying to avoid unwanted attention, though kind of a moot point considering my spacesuit.
Above me, out of reach, there hung a lifeboat, beside it a pair of canons in a square sort of `window', presumably to fight off pirates. The hatches hung partly down, so nobody could see me and my wife so far, unless they squatted on the floor.
Someone left a piece of iron on the planks, so I stuck it through the belt-like thing around my waist, hoping that my steady diet of Kung Fu movies, my orange belt in karate and the drawbacks of one shot powder weapons of the era would put me at an advantage.
My wife stealthily crept up alongside me, looking like someone auditioning for a movie called Karate Nun.
Our mysterious veiled companion watched from the wharf, apparently a bit nervous about our actions, or afraid to tear her dress, or both. It seemed I and Eve were on our own.
The top of the boarding plank offered a direct line of sight to the enemy. I searched around until I found some overhanging ropes.
Lucky for me, transcontinental sailors happen to eat a lot of fish, so they had a net. Not located very conveniently, but it dangled off the side about two yards away from the plank. With a semi running start, I could clamber up the ropes and sneak over the port side wall...or fall ten stories, hit my head on a board, and fall unconscious into the salt water. No pressure.
I took a chance and jumped.
I caught the rope, but only with my index finger. I let out an agonized scream, hurriedly slapping the fingers of my other hand through the net to keep from falling. As I dragged myself upwards, I regretted my neglect of the exercise of pull-ups...and my big mouth.
Immediately, men in tunics rushed the side, yelling and pointing at me. A couple brought out muskets.
Note: Plural. Guess they understood if you can't have a machine gun, you need a lot of muskets pre-loaded.
Fortunately for me, but not for history, my nun had stolen some knives and cutlery from somewhere, and my would be assassins fell abovedecks, firing their black powder weapons in wild directions as they got impaled through the throat or other vital organs with knives and forks.
Or so I thought.
As I pulled myself up the netting, agonizing over my sprained finger every time my left touched the ropes, I heard thudding and cursing.
Near the top, I got met by a horrible bearded face.
The bloody marks around his shoulders showed him to be mostly unharmed by Ninja Sister's two tined suriken attack.
Afraid he'd crush my hands and dump me into Concussion Land, I whipped out the piece of iron, smacking him across the head.
Unlike how it shows in the movies, my first strike only pissed him off and made him swear a lot.
I quickly shoved myself onboard, raising the bar again in hopes of knocking him out.
Instead the man caught it on a down-swing, wrenched it out of my hands, and brandished it in a threatening manner.
Although rusty in karate, I still remembered the disastrous effects of not wearing a protective cup while sparring. I threw a thrust kick to that sensitive area and ran like hell.
If I had been smarter, I would have grabbed the piece of metal before running, but I did find a harpoon. I didn't relish the idea of murdering someone in cold blood, but figured I could at least swat a guy with it a few times.
The problem was, I had focused all my attention to the guy with the iron bar. I ended up backing into a tall muscular figure in a doorway, and a leaner grizzled person punched me in the head.
Disoriented, I swung the harpoon like a baseball bat, knocking the tall guy back, then unthinkingly shoved the harpoon into the other guy's stomach.
I'm not a barbarian, so I didn't pull the harpoon back out. I just left it in there as I checked on the guy in the doorway.
The next moment, something heavy slammed against the back of my skull, and I pitched overboard.