Waves of riches
The sea. That mighty force
of destruction. Chaotic and merciless yet capable of unrivalled calm,
unrivalled beauty. A free flowing spirit, untameable, unconquerable, unstoppable.
Unstoppable that is, right up to the point where it meets the river Ankh at
Ankh-Morpork docks and is beaten into submission like a door guard on the first
day of the Hogswatch sales. It has been suggested that the 'waters' of the Ankh
are actually a new form of life. This has been impossible to prove, however, as
every time someone tries to analyse it his or her instruments explode. Even
analysis by hex, the com-pu-ter at the university, had only led to Ponder
Stibbons having to join the ants for a quiet sit down. Eventually, all Ankh
water studies had been banned due to the strain on the fire service, which is
quite ironic when you consider its water. Suffice to say the waters of the
river Ankh provide a seriousness never before seen in 'No Swimming!' signs.
The solitary figure of a
man slowly paced the length of the docks. He came to a stop and leant lazily
over the rail, staring at the water in quiet bemusement. There was a curious
two-layer effect where the Ankh met the sea. The brown met the blue but it
didn't blend. Having already mixed with anything and everything
Ankh-Morporkians had to dump in it (mainly unspeakable), the Ankh water was
dammed if it was going to mix with the sea as well. It would have been quite
pretty if it wasn't for the stink. The kind of thing trolls who have had a bit
too much slab would point at and say "Oooooh colours." The man sighed. He'd
arrived in Ankh-Morpork about a week previously and he still hadn't got used to
the smell. It was in stark contrast to his former life of glory. A life of
adventure, excitement, and rewards… for this scrawny young man was none other
than Jason, cabin boy and chief latrine cleaner of the great pirate Captain
Threadlock! Threadlock had once been considered one of the most feared pirates
on the disc. Well the most feared pirate to cloth merchants anyway. He'd always
preferred the feel of a good pair of silk breaches to the chink of coins in his
pocket. Anyway, that was all in the past. He'd perished, along with his crew,
somewhat bizarrely months ago. Some bright spark had sworn it would be a
shortcut. The man had the ridiculous idea the world was round. Jason had been
lucky and managed to scramble into a small rowboat as the ship had disappeared
over the rim. He remembered the fading sound of Threadlock's mad laughter as
he'd paddled furiously away from the edge. He'd drifted for days, living on a
diet fish and rainwater, and eventually, had run aground at Ankh-Morpork (Well
he thought he had. He'd actually just run aground on the Ankh water around the
docks). Jason sighed again. He threw a pebble and it bounced on the sludge,
falling short of the sea. It was time to get back out there and he knew it. It
was time to seek his fortune.
Tunish the troll was a
bum. He didn't know this, however, as there is a distinct lack of people
willing to point this out to a seven-foot troll. What he did know was that he
was bored. It was never meant to be like this when he first left the mountains
for the lights of the big city. He wanted to be respected, he wanted to be
rich, he wanted to become civilised like Mr Chrysophase, but all he seemed to
do was sit about all day or get paid to hit people. Chrysophase the gangster
troll was a hero back in the mountains. He was beating the humans at their own
game, he wore a suit, and he was about the only troll to be referred to as
'Mr'. Tunish was just thinking how good he'd look in a suit as Jason appeared
around the corner, a smile forming on his lips as he saw the troll.
"Excuse me. Hello?"
Tunish was upset at the
interruption. It wasn't easy for a troll to gather his thoughts; he'd been
building up to the suit thought all morning. He glared threateningly at the
stranger.
Jason eyed the troll up
and down and decided to get straight to the point.
"I wonder if you'd be
interested in going to sea?"
"Wot?"
"An able troll like you
would be perfect for my crew. Lots of rewards to be gained from a life at sea
you know."
"Wot?"
"I'm offering you the
opportunity for riches and glory. I'm offering you the opportunity to become a
pirate!"
"Wot?"
Jason sighed. "Look, its
very simple. My name is Captain Jason Tre'bar. I am a pirate. I steal from the
rich and keep the money. I have a ship I just don't have a crew. That's where
you come in." It was true he did have a ship, though quite how he'd acquired it
was more of a mystery. That whole night was a bit of a haze, the grog around
here was certainly up to pirate standards. There had been a bet in the inn he
knew that… something to do with a sausage in a bun? The name Dibbler stuck in
his mind, for what reason he could only imagine. All he knew was that he'd gone
overnight from penniless to owning a fine fourteen-gun ship called The Minoria.
Oh, and people seemed cross the street when he walked past now.
"So, are you with me? Are
you ready to become rich beyond your wildest dreams?"
Tunish's dreams didn't go
much past the suit idea. "No."
"No?"
"No!"
Jason thought for a moment
then rallied "Well do you know where I might find people interested in the
opportunity of a lifetime?"
"Why don't you try der
bottom of the river." Said Tunish irritably. He was beginning to lose the suit
image in his mind.
"I will try there. Thank
you for your help Mr Troll." Jason answered, missing the sarcasm. Sarcasm
wasn't really something you expected of trolls.
Tunish's eyes lit up.
"Mr?"
"Sorry?"
"You called me Mr! No-one
has ever called me Mr before!"
Jason looked puzzled.
"Yes?"
"Look no further Mr Jason
sir."
"You'll join me?"
"Mr Jason, I'd follow you
over the rim itself!"
Jason felt uncomfortable
at the mention of the rim, but pulled himself together.
"Excellent. Well, to your
first duty. Can you name a good place to recruit some able men?"
Tunish thought about this.
"Well deres always der
drum." He offered.
"Ah, a likely place for
eager recruits?"
"Well it'll have to be"
Tunish mused, "It's der only place I knows."
*
A queue was forming in the
Broken Drum inn, and as is the custom with any queue in Ankh-Morpork, arguments
were breaking out.
"Are you gonna be
finishing that drink friend?"
"Yes"
"I said, are you gonna be
finishing that drink friend?"
Realisation dawned.
"Oh… no, no. Would you
like it?"
A tall figure dressed in
black occupied a stool at the bar. He would occasionally gaze over to the
queue, and occasionally flicked an eye to an hourglass he held in his long,
thin, strangely white fingers. In his free hand, he clutched a glass with a
tiny umbrella poking out.
It was a good turn out and
the queue stretched the whole length of the bar. It wasn't often job opportunities
were aimed at the clientele of the drum, the man was clearly an idiot… and
idiots, usually had money. This Logic had attracted every thief, thug, lawyer,
and lowlife in a two-mile radius. Oh, and Corporal Nobbs of the city watch.
At a table in front of the
queue sat a beaming Jason and a bored looking Tunish. Jason was conversing with
the queue's leader, a huge hublander with a worryingly big scar on his face,
making him look like he was smiling when he was actually scowling.
"So you haven't got any money
now?" the man was saying, "Right now I mean… to pay wages?"
"Well no, but c'mon it's
not just about the riches. It's also a wonderful escape from life."
A silence while all eyes
in the bar turned to him.
Jason smiled
encouragingly.
The queue halved.
"We can have sing-a-longs
every night." He persisted.
The queue halved again.
"Is he serious?" Someone muttered in amazement as they walked away.
"ESCAPE YOU SAY?" said a
voice.
"Yes."
"REALLY?"
"Yes."
"CAREFREE?"
"Yes."
"HMM."
*
Jason proudly inspected his
new crew. There were five of them including Tunish, and adding himself to the
figure that made seven! A number even Threadlock himself would be proud to
lead. A feeling of nostalgia engulfed Jason momentarily as he thought of his
old skipper. He remembered the time at that inn in Quim when another captain
had boasted of his achievements. The captain was Sir Ricard of Tsort, and was
credited with bringing potatoes back to civilisation (Well to Ankh-Morpork, so
perhaps not civilisation). These days, smoking potatoes was all the rage
downtown with people of breeding. Or inbreeding as Commander Vimes liked to
say. Threadlock had grabbed the smoke from the captain's mouth and eaten it
there and then in front of the whole inn. Ate it, no lie. He'd even seemed to
like it. He'd started eating them at every meal afterwards, Jason recalled. Now
that was a real tough man. Now it was his time to lead men. Time to meet
his crew.
"What's your name sailor?"
Silence.
"I mean you."
"Oh, sorry sir. You threw
me off with the sailor part there. It's Nobbs sir."
Nobby had informed the
watch of his decision to go that day, much to the amusement of all concerned.
"A holiday?!" old Sergeant Colon had boomed. He had been all set to offer Nobby
an alternative of a clip round the ear until Vimes had turned up. The commander
had seemed more chirpy than usual, and had insisted Nobby took at least six
months off. He'd even offered Nobby a raise if he went.
Captain Carrot had been
the only one who seemed genuinely sorry to see him go. "We'll miss your
commitment to the watch, Corporal." He'd said with a commendably straight face.
For Jason, the sight of
Nobby Nobbs was a whole new experience. He'd heard of animals raising human
children as their own, but Nobbs looked like he'd been raised by a disease.
Furthermore, he'd twice had to recover his pocket watch from Nobby who'd been
'Keeping it safe' for him. It had dawned on him slowly that the lure of the big
blue perhaps wasn't the sole reason inspiring these men to join. All the same, this
'man' was a corporal in the city watch and Jason needed a crew used to
discipline. He pondered this uncertainly as he watched the man.
Nobby seemed to feel more
was needed. "I can tie my own shoes sir." He added proudly.
"Good, good. Well done."
Jason moved swiftly on to the next body.
Body was a good
description of what stood in front of him. Corpse was a better one.
"Name's Dennis sir."
Jason had heard of pirates
missing eyes, but missing both arms?
"You're a zombie yes?"
"Yes sir."
"No arms at all?" Jason
bent his head as if to check if Dennis had hidden his arms behind him.
"Incident with a dog sir."
"I see."
"I have good teeth
though."
"Yes?"
"Yes."
Jason moved down the line.
"Tunish sir."
"Yes I know that Mr
Tunish" Sighed Jason, not stopping.
He carried on and had
walked straight past the forth recruit before he realised his mistake. Coming
back to face the man Jason wondered how on earth he'd managed to miss someone
so tall. The man seemed to loom without taking up any space. It was as if he was
all around them but yet not there at all. Jason dismissed all doubts; he was
beginning to one of his headaches.
"And what's your name
sailor?" he asked cheerfully.
"BILL DOOR" said Death with
the assurance of someone who had played this name game before, and the grin of
someone who couldn't do other expressions.
"Welcome to the crew
Bill." Jason made a mental note to put the man on double food rations.
So on to the final
crewman… or dwarf as it turned out.
"I didn't think dwarfs
liked the sea?"
"I'm a pioneer sir, the
first of my type." Answered the dwarf theatrically. "I will go where no dwarf
has gone before!"
Jason decided not to
mention old Captain Steelarm. Now there was a dwarf going places. The bottom of
the sea usually.
"Well done. And your name
is?"
"Ironwood sir."
Jason noted Ironwood
already had a life jacket. A shame it was made of chain mail.
"Welcome to The Minoria.
Shall we get this show on the water gentlemen? Ha!"
*
After about six hours
Jason was confident the crew knew what they were doing. Or rather he'd lost the
ability for rational thought and just wanted to get going. He had tried to be
diplomatic in his assignment of rank, but ended up allocating on a first come first
served basis since the crew turned out to be equally hopeless at everything.
Here's how it had panned out; First mate Tunish, Lieutenant Nobbs, Midshipman
Dennis (In charge of sail maintenance thanks to his experience with a needle),
Ensign Door and Ensign Ironwood.
The crew were all at their
posts, the supplies were aboard, and nothing was going to make Jason spend
another night at this 'hell on disc' city. He sighed and looked up to the
Swamp-Dragon's nest (Also known as a crow's nest by those funny people in
Klatch). Bill Door stood staring out to sea, his arms folded over the nest's
edge. There was something about that black cloak flapping in the wind behind
his face. It just seemed… right.
No
turning back now. It was time for adventure, time for riches, time for
seasickness… Damn, he really should have remembered to buy pills. Jason turned
his gaze out to sea. "Up anchor!" he bellowed in his best attempt at authority.
"Aye
aye, sir" Tunish heaved on the heavy rope.
Jason
turned to him. "Pardon?"
Tunish
looked embarrassed. "It's up." He said sulkily.
"Ok,
Ready lads?"
"Yes"
"Yeah"
"YES"
"Yep"
"Yes"
"SQUEAK"
Jason
made a double take. Squeak? A puzzled look on his face turned to determination
as he faced back out to sea. "Mr Nobbs?"
"Yeah?"
"Engage!"
Nobby
turned, "Huh?"
"Just...
go."
*
From
the docks a cloaked figure watched The Minoria begin to pull away. If you
looked back five seconds later, the figure would be gone.
