Captain
Chapter Eleven
Confrontation
Captain's been a real pain in the ass since the navy crew docked near us. Them navy fellows have been ashore half a day already, searching for us. Luckily, they don't know it's us. Be pretty bad if they did.
Something strange happened when they first docked though. There was a man, looks allot like me except older. Can't say I recognize him, but there is something familiar about that one man. Also I could swear I've seen the captain from the navy ship before, thing is my memory is worse off then before since Mullins and I had a little, er, disagreement while looting that Imperial ship. But can't even think about that now, I'm supposed to go ashore with Nat and keep an eye on them navy fellows.
We're the least suspecting, especially being compared to Mullins who'd be a suspect by day's end. Plus if trouble stirs up, though Mullins and Starsky would probably be a lot better a choice if needed, Nat and I are quite the swordsmen. Though if my sword is abashed, probably comes the means I and Nat will be captured, since I'm much to elfin to throw a rough fist.
Now Nat and I are leaving ship. The man on Watch has spotted six men leaving the navy ship, meaning Nat and me are soon to be hot on their tails. All we have to do is keep one eye on em, pretend we're shopping here or something.
"Trent, over there." Nat points towards five British looking men.
"Nah, Henry yelled about six. Those aren't them." I whisper as we pass the five men he had pointed out.
"Hold it." He hisses and turns towards a cart, but I see what he's glimpsing. Another man has just walked out of a small tavern-like shop, and as luck would have it… that's the man that looks something familiar. Damn it seems Nat's noticed to, at least I think so cause he's thrown me awkward glances now.
He can't say anything about it though, or else those men will hear and surely there'd be a confrontation, and as all these six men are armed and being as they're in the navy they're all probably very experienced swordsmen. Meaning there's a slim chance this time around without the rest of the crew to back us up, that Nat and me will win.
"Bar man hasn't seen any sign?" Speaks one man with dull blonde hair.
The familiar looking man who looks a touch like me shakes his head no. "Says there haven't been any suspicious ships, other then another British ship that docked just after the looting took place."
Visibly, Nat and I have tensed. I can't be sure, but I don't think Nat and I have tensed for all the same reasons. Thing is, that man's voice, it's real familiar. Swear I've heard it before, but I can't think of where. Hopefully he's not a captain of one of the ships I've been on.
Other reasons Nat and me tensed is because I suppose we both know what ship these men are suspecting. Suppose now we've got to distract these men from finishing this conversation, otherwise they'll all start suspecting the good old Grey Ash. Nat's giving me the sign he's thinking along the same lines. Wonder if Nat's thinking the exact same thing, hopefully, otherwise there's going to be some lots of confusion.
So we nod to each other and he picks up a nice expensive looking plate, wearing a mischievous smirk on his lips. Just as he's starting to walk backwards with the plate a woman starts screaming something in her language neither Nat nor me understand.
"Run!" I call.
And so Nat runs one way while I run the other. So far the plan is working, the men from the navy ship have all drawn their swords or pistols and are chasing after us. Too bad for them, this is a game Nat and I have played since I boarded the Grey Ash. If they're thinking they're going to catch us, they've got another thing coming.
"Trent!" Nat calls as we pass each other half a block away from where he stole the plate. With the warning he throws me the plate, now we're both smiling real big. As we haven't played this game in awhile, it's quite fun and I think we've both missed it.
His three men, or I guess I should say the three navy men pursuing him, cross our paths but luckily I've already taken the plate and quickened my pace. Nat is leading those three men away while the other three men continue to chase me. I listen to the orders being given behind me, times like these I'm thanking any gods that are listening for this wondrous hearing of mine.
Again Nat and I pass each other, but we don't know this country as well as our own and by the bemused smirk on his face I can tell he's starting to panic. Both of us might be quite the swordsmen, but it's still no fun getting cut up.
"Pass it." He growls at me, holding out his hands for the plate.
"No choice." I mutter and instantly we both stop running, our backs to each other, our swords drawn as I hold the plate close to me. The six navy men quickly catch up and surround us. "We might as well have some fun with these men. What do yah say Nat?" I call over my shoulder, knowing fully well with my loud tone all the six navy men can hear me just fine.
"I say sounds good. What do yah say Trent?" Calls Nat over his shoulder, but I can know he's not really looking forward to this swordfight. We've both been sailors long enough to sum up our opponents with a glance, and he knows just as well as I do we don't stand much of a chance against all six of these men.
"I say I get the men on the right. Ready?"
"Go!"
And so Nat and I charge each our directions.
Swords can be heard clanging, metal exchanging. And then I hear a sound that freezes my blood. Nat's yelling, meaning he's been injured. To confirm my guess five men are now my opponents, and I can't hear swords clanging anymore.
So I wheel around on my heel and take in every man I'm against, also looking between the gaps of a few to see Nat bent double clutching his stomach and I'm pretty sure he's coughing up blood, or else I can only pray he's swallowed some dust. It's too late to hide my emotions now though, without a reflecting glass I know my eyes are wide with worry while I watch Nat's heaving back.
"Nat?" Say I, my fake boy's tone has gone soft. The men surrounding me are exchanging glances and I can sense them.
"Don't," another cough, "worry bout me. Show," he continues to cough and I have to strain to hear him, "them what," he pauses and I watch him spit, but his spit is crimson, "you're made of." In that instant I grow angry, I can feel the rage building inside me.
But it's not just rage against these men who've hurt Nat; it's the anger I held back when Mullins was pummeling me. It's the anger I wouldn't admit to whenever a captain kicked me off their ship because I was a girl. And don't ask me now this anger is rearing its ugly head now of all times, maybe Nat's injury was just the breaking point. Whatever it was that's caused it, I don't care.
"Fuckin' cowards." My growls are unnerving to even me, but I can't stop now.
"Give it up boy. No use in running, unless you're willing to leave behind your friend there." One of the men are talking to me, but he stands at my back so I can't see him.
"Don't hold your breath codfish." I turn and extend my sword, my dagger held in my other hand.
Then the fight starts without more of a warning. Another of the men swing out at me with a fist, while his sword aims at my legs. But my eyes aren't just for looking pretty and I see through his tactics easily, taking a hop over the blade while ducking my head from the offensive hand. I'm not exactly sure what happened then, but I managed to knock away his blade once my feet had touched ground, then I think I might have killed the man. Once he was down, another of the men came, this one from behind and he almost had me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that part where Tristen gets angry is pretty cliché, but I like how it turned out. As for Nat, I'm not sure if I should kill him off or not. Anyhow, I'm figuring that Tristen is going to be real Mary Sue next chapter. Then again, she is still injured so maybe not?
Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan™. I do own any of my original characters.