Okay, so maybe she was being stupid. After all, she had had some
champagne back at the party... but not that much. And yet Miss Tara Waller
was sure that she could hear heavy boots following her down the dark alley.
All of the shops were shut; she would have liked to have hidden in one of them. It was a good two-mile walk to her manor, and she was beginning to regret deciding to walk home at night. The footsteps were growing louder... or perhaps that was her imagination. Maybe the alcohol was beginning to kick in... she had been fine at the party.
She saw light at the end of the alley... the blacksmiths, perhaps? She would have liked to be saved by that William Turner... a fine man, despite his lowness and commonness. She could never marry him, but he sometimes played on her thoughts. She had heard he was going with Elizabeth Swann, the governor's daughter. She had never really liked Elizabeth, she spent too much time with commoners and Tara had even heard that she had spent some time with pirates.
The light wasn't coming from the blacksmiths, but from the Rusty Nail Inn. Of course, it was hardly a safe place for a young woman of distinction and class such as Tara, but it was a safer place than out here with someone following her. So she pushed open the door and stepped into the smoky, hot, smelly bar.
It was pretty empty, save for the disgruntled-looking barman standing behind the counter and a group of dirty young men sitting in a dark corner playing cards. It certainly was not Tara's type of place. However, she went to the counter. There was a row of grimy mirrors behind the counter and Tara saw her reflection.
She was not a devastatingly gorgeous girl, nor was she ugly. She had almond-shaped hazel eyes and long dark hair, which was currently curled up on top of her head so that the full beauty of her heavy green gown could be seen. She was very dark-skinned, half English, half Spanish. Her mother, a fair English woman, had married a dark Spanish sailor. He was very rich. However, soon after Tara's birth, her mother had been slaughtered by pirates.
"Can I have a glass of water?" she asked politely.
The barman looked as though he had never been asked for a glass of water before. However, he poured some into a greasy glass and Tara sat at a table beside the door, trying to decide what to do.
Suddenly the door opened and a dark shape swept past her, smelling of must and... rum.
Something scared her; she sat still a moment, then she looked around to see where he had gone. She saw him, crouched over a table in the darkest corner so she couldn't see him. The only part of him in the light was a large boot... surely the one of her follower. She'd never seen such boots: they were absolutely huge.
Pirate boots.
Her breath caught in her throat. She realised that whenever she left, he would follow and kidnap her... unless she waited all night so that he would give up.
She was sure that he was watching her. The barman poured some dark liquid into a glass and carried it over to the pirate. Tara was petrified. She felt like crying, whilst in her head she was thinking of how many ways she knew to attack someone... she wasn't armed, so she was already in out of her depth; surely the pirate had a sword and gun... who knew how many people he had killed?
Time ticked slowly past... the pirate didn't move. The card men left. The barman arranged his glasses five different ways... and yet the pirate didn't move. He was playing with her, idly watching her fear from afar.
Then, suddenly, Tara rose. She was tired of sitting around. She opened the door and walked out into the alley. The full moon gleamed eerily above. Tara walked along the alley quickly.
All too soon, she heard the pirate's heavy boots.
She abandoned reason entirely and ran... ran towards the docks. She didn't know why. She thought there might be Navy officers down there who could help her.
It was dark and gloomy on the dock. There was nobody about. Still, at least she had lost the pirate. She sat down unhappily on a rock.
Suddenly she heard the metallic sound of a sword being drawn, and she felt cold steel on her neck.
"Hello, Miss Waller."
The man stepped in front of her. He was tall and skinny. His hair was long and blonde and his features looked oddly warped in the moonlight... but his boots...
They weren't big and loud.
This wasn't the pirate who had been following her.
But it certainly was a pirate.
"Please," she whimpered.
He lowered the sword- and slapped her hard across the face.
She fell off her rock, and landed face-down on the floor.
"Now that's just mean, savvy?" asked another voice, gruff and drunken.
Tara looked up. A man was standing on her rock.
The weirdest man she had ever seen.
All of the shops were shut; she would have liked to have hidden in one of them. It was a good two-mile walk to her manor, and she was beginning to regret deciding to walk home at night. The footsteps were growing louder... or perhaps that was her imagination. Maybe the alcohol was beginning to kick in... she had been fine at the party.
She saw light at the end of the alley... the blacksmiths, perhaps? She would have liked to be saved by that William Turner... a fine man, despite his lowness and commonness. She could never marry him, but he sometimes played on her thoughts. She had heard he was going with Elizabeth Swann, the governor's daughter. She had never really liked Elizabeth, she spent too much time with commoners and Tara had even heard that she had spent some time with pirates.
The light wasn't coming from the blacksmiths, but from the Rusty Nail Inn. Of course, it was hardly a safe place for a young woman of distinction and class such as Tara, but it was a safer place than out here with someone following her. So she pushed open the door and stepped into the smoky, hot, smelly bar.
It was pretty empty, save for the disgruntled-looking barman standing behind the counter and a group of dirty young men sitting in a dark corner playing cards. It certainly was not Tara's type of place. However, she went to the counter. There was a row of grimy mirrors behind the counter and Tara saw her reflection.
She was not a devastatingly gorgeous girl, nor was she ugly. She had almond-shaped hazel eyes and long dark hair, which was currently curled up on top of her head so that the full beauty of her heavy green gown could be seen. She was very dark-skinned, half English, half Spanish. Her mother, a fair English woman, had married a dark Spanish sailor. He was very rich. However, soon after Tara's birth, her mother had been slaughtered by pirates.
"Can I have a glass of water?" she asked politely.
The barman looked as though he had never been asked for a glass of water before. However, he poured some into a greasy glass and Tara sat at a table beside the door, trying to decide what to do.
Suddenly the door opened and a dark shape swept past her, smelling of must and... rum.
Something scared her; she sat still a moment, then she looked around to see where he had gone. She saw him, crouched over a table in the darkest corner so she couldn't see him. The only part of him in the light was a large boot... surely the one of her follower. She'd never seen such boots: they were absolutely huge.
Pirate boots.
Her breath caught in her throat. She realised that whenever she left, he would follow and kidnap her... unless she waited all night so that he would give up.
She was sure that he was watching her. The barman poured some dark liquid into a glass and carried it over to the pirate. Tara was petrified. She felt like crying, whilst in her head she was thinking of how many ways she knew to attack someone... she wasn't armed, so she was already in out of her depth; surely the pirate had a sword and gun... who knew how many people he had killed?
Time ticked slowly past... the pirate didn't move. The card men left. The barman arranged his glasses five different ways... and yet the pirate didn't move. He was playing with her, idly watching her fear from afar.
Then, suddenly, Tara rose. She was tired of sitting around. She opened the door and walked out into the alley. The full moon gleamed eerily above. Tara walked along the alley quickly.
All too soon, she heard the pirate's heavy boots.
She abandoned reason entirely and ran... ran towards the docks. She didn't know why. She thought there might be Navy officers down there who could help her.
It was dark and gloomy on the dock. There was nobody about. Still, at least she had lost the pirate. She sat down unhappily on a rock.
Suddenly she heard the metallic sound of a sword being drawn, and she felt cold steel on her neck.
"Hello, Miss Waller."
The man stepped in front of her. He was tall and skinny. His hair was long and blonde and his features looked oddly warped in the moonlight... but his boots...
They weren't big and loud.
This wasn't the pirate who had been following her.
But it certainly was a pirate.
"Please," she whimpered.
He lowered the sword- and slapped her hard across the face.
She fell off her rock, and landed face-down on the floor.
"Now that's just mean, savvy?" asked another voice, gruff and drunken.
Tara looked up. A man was standing on her rock.
The weirdest man she had ever seen.