Told you I'd get this chapter up faster :) Thanks to Alicia the second,
Suuki-Aldrea, and Just Another Stupid Idiot for reviewing my story.
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Aragorn and Jack poked their heads out the door. There was a long, stone staircase leading downwards from the corridor they were in, lit with torches. Not a sound could be heard from it. No one was there.
"All clear," whispered Jack, and began stepping quietly down the steps. Aragorn followed suit, as did all the other prisoners.
"Aragorn, you should probably stay at the back," said Jack. "Just in case one of these prisoners decides to recant his loyalty to us. And you've got the best weapon of all of us, so you can defend us if someone attempts to waylay our progress."
"Good idea," said Aragorn, and walked past the shuffling prisoners to the back of the line. The criminal at the back of the line smirked when he looked at him.
"Nice hair," he remarked. "What's it for? Making ropes out of?"
Aragorn swiftly drew Andúril with the beautiful sound of it emerging from its scabbard, and held the point between the prisoner's eyes. He went cross- eyed looking at it, and grinned stupidly.
"Sorry," he squeaked. Aragorn lowered the blade but did not return it to the scabbard. The prisoner quickly turned around and began walking more quickly than before.
The long, sordid line walked down the staircase for a few moments before Jack stopped at the bottom, to examine a doorway on the left. The other choice was to keep going straight, down a corridor.
"Alright, we'll go in here first," said Jack. "It's the armoury. Obviously, if you lot are going to be pirates, you'll need weapons."
He walked into the room, followed by the rabble of criminals and Aragorn. The room was large and squre, with a barred window on the far wall. The stone walls were covered with an assortment of muskets and pistols, and there were dozens of wooden crates on the floor which would turn out to be filled with sabres and rapiers. There were kegs and barrels filled with shot, and smaller boxes filled with musket and pistol balls.
In front of the window stood a guard in a redcoat, pointing a musket at them.
"Don't move," he said shakily, "or I'll shoot."
"Son, son," said Jack, walking up to him and putting his arm round his shoulder and patting him on the back. "Look," he said, and clobbered him square in the face. He then took the man's musket and uncocked the hammer.
"Right then," he said, extracting the balls from the gun. "You can take this," to a fat man standing at the front with wiry hair, handing the musket and a shot flask to him. He then proceeded to collect muskets and shot flasks from the walls and pass them to all the other prisoners, much to their delight.
He kicked a crate off the pile it was on, and when it hit the ground, the lid bounced off, revealing sabres upon rapiers upon sabres.
"Take your pick," said Jack, and the prisoners hurried over to the box to select their swords.
"Now Aragorn," said Jack to him, walking over. "I take it you don't need a sword."
"That would certainly seem the case," replied Aragorn.
"Well, you will need this," Jack said, passing him a pistol from the wall. "Do you know how to use this?"
"No," answered Aragorn.
"Well, here's what you do," said Jack, taking a flask of shot from the wall. "You take the cork off this contraption here, and pour some shot down the barrel (that's the little tube at the front), counting to about three, and then stop. Then, you take one of these – "removing a ball from his pocket – "and put it down the barrel. Try it."
He handed Aragorn the ball and shot. Aragorn began pouring shot in, counting one...two...three. Then he stopped and put the ball in the barrel. It got stuck half way down.
"It's stopped," he said.
"Sometimes you'll have to poke it down," said Jack. "That's what this is for," passing him a ramrod. Aragorn took it and pushed the ball down to the bottom.
"Very good," said Jack. "Now, cock the hammer at the back there – "Aragorn did so, "- good, and now you – "
BANG! Aragorn had pulled the trigger while the gun was pointed at the ceiling, causing a large amount of debris to fall down on the two of them. Aragorn, who had never fired a gun before, was amazed at even the small amount of kick back he received, throwing him to the floor. Upon hearing the gunshot, several of the prisoners panicked and brandished their weapons.
Once dust and rock had stopped falling, Jack, who had ducked, stood up and pulled Aragorn to his feet.
"Well," he said, "that's how you do it. Don't worry, we all make mistakes. But now we know not to shoot the gun unless we're pointing at an enemy soldier, don't we?"
Several of the prisoners laughed appreciatively.
"I wasn't expecting the force it pushed me back with," admitted Aragorn.
"That's called kickback," said Jack. "Expect it, it'll happen every time. Right men, let's go."
All of them armed and ready, they scuttled out of the doorway and began down the long corridor. At the end of this corridor was an iron door, which led outside. As they were walking down though, they heard voices from upstairs.
"My God! Where are all the prisoners?" cried one.
"Obstinée will have us skinned and gutted," said the second darkly.
"What do we do? Where are they?" said the first.
"The gunshot we heard came from down there. Let's go."
"Oh, God no," said Jack. "Quickly, let's go!" He started ushering them along quickly, but they were still too slow. Two guards appeared on the staircase.
"Oi! Get back here!" shouted the first one. When the prisoners kept moving, the two soldiers fired off two shots. They missed, but the prisoners continued to run, even faster than before. They could not shoot back; they had no shot or bullets.
The lot of them reached the iron door, which Jack wrenched open, and flooded out of it. It was now night, and dark out. They were standing on a rock cliff, which fell into the ocean at the bottom. To their right they could see the beach below them, and even further in the distance the Swann Residence.
"Quickly, this way!" said Jack, bringing them around the corner of a door. They lined themselves along the wall, all but Jack and Aragorn, who prepared for the attack.
When the two guards bolted out the door, the two of them sprung into action. Aragorn landed the first guard a powerful punch in the nose and then a strong chop in the right of his neck. Jack grabbed the shoulders of the other, kicked him in the stomach and then smashed him into the wall. They were both knocked unconscious.
"Nice punch," commented Jack.
"We have to go fast," said Aragorn. "Soon, I presume, someone will find the prison deserted and inform someone of higher authority of it."
"No, we can't go yet," said Jack. "Look at these dogs. They're tired, and won't go very far. We'll start going again tomorrow."
"And today?"
"We'll sleep here. I personally am tediously tired, and so am going to sleep. You can keep guard for us."
"What?" protested Aragorn. "How dare you give me orders! I do not know why I've been following your command. I am a king, and deserve to be treated as such."
"You've been following me because firstly, I am the only one out of us who knows the whys and wherefores of this place, and thirdly, you need me to get back."
Aragorn could not argue this point any further, so he agreed. Jack passed him a musket, said "Sleep tight (some of us)," and with that tucked in. Aragorn was left sitting on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the sea and longing for Arwen and Eldarion. Would Eldarion be alive when Aragorn returned to Middle-earth? And a worse thought still – would he ever return to Middle-earth?
Plagued by these thoughts, Aragorn settled in for a long night of restlessness. He sat upon the escarpment, a humiliated king bent upon the brink of despair.
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Oh, poor Aragorn. I'll update soon, I promise.
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Aragorn and Jack poked their heads out the door. There was a long, stone staircase leading downwards from the corridor they were in, lit with torches. Not a sound could be heard from it. No one was there.
"All clear," whispered Jack, and began stepping quietly down the steps. Aragorn followed suit, as did all the other prisoners.
"Aragorn, you should probably stay at the back," said Jack. "Just in case one of these prisoners decides to recant his loyalty to us. And you've got the best weapon of all of us, so you can defend us if someone attempts to waylay our progress."
"Good idea," said Aragorn, and walked past the shuffling prisoners to the back of the line. The criminal at the back of the line smirked when he looked at him.
"Nice hair," he remarked. "What's it for? Making ropes out of?"
Aragorn swiftly drew Andúril with the beautiful sound of it emerging from its scabbard, and held the point between the prisoner's eyes. He went cross- eyed looking at it, and grinned stupidly.
"Sorry," he squeaked. Aragorn lowered the blade but did not return it to the scabbard. The prisoner quickly turned around and began walking more quickly than before.
The long, sordid line walked down the staircase for a few moments before Jack stopped at the bottom, to examine a doorway on the left. The other choice was to keep going straight, down a corridor.
"Alright, we'll go in here first," said Jack. "It's the armoury. Obviously, if you lot are going to be pirates, you'll need weapons."
He walked into the room, followed by the rabble of criminals and Aragorn. The room was large and squre, with a barred window on the far wall. The stone walls were covered with an assortment of muskets and pistols, and there were dozens of wooden crates on the floor which would turn out to be filled with sabres and rapiers. There were kegs and barrels filled with shot, and smaller boxes filled with musket and pistol balls.
In front of the window stood a guard in a redcoat, pointing a musket at them.
"Don't move," he said shakily, "or I'll shoot."
"Son, son," said Jack, walking up to him and putting his arm round his shoulder and patting him on the back. "Look," he said, and clobbered him square in the face. He then took the man's musket and uncocked the hammer.
"Right then," he said, extracting the balls from the gun. "You can take this," to a fat man standing at the front with wiry hair, handing the musket and a shot flask to him. He then proceeded to collect muskets and shot flasks from the walls and pass them to all the other prisoners, much to their delight.
He kicked a crate off the pile it was on, and when it hit the ground, the lid bounced off, revealing sabres upon rapiers upon sabres.
"Take your pick," said Jack, and the prisoners hurried over to the box to select their swords.
"Now Aragorn," said Jack to him, walking over. "I take it you don't need a sword."
"That would certainly seem the case," replied Aragorn.
"Well, you will need this," Jack said, passing him a pistol from the wall. "Do you know how to use this?"
"No," answered Aragorn.
"Well, here's what you do," said Jack, taking a flask of shot from the wall. "You take the cork off this contraption here, and pour some shot down the barrel (that's the little tube at the front), counting to about three, and then stop. Then, you take one of these – "removing a ball from his pocket – "and put it down the barrel. Try it."
He handed Aragorn the ball and shot. Aragorn began pouring shot in, counting one...two...three. Then he stopped and put the ball in the barrel. It got stuck half way down.
"It's stopped," he said.
"Sometimes you'll have to poke it down," said Jack. "That's what this is for," passing him a ramrod. Aragorn took it and pushed the ball down to the bottom.
"Very good," said Jack. "Now, cock the hammer at the back there – "Aragorn did so, "- good, and now you – "
BANG! Aragorn had pulled the trigger while the gun was pointed at the ceiling, causing a large amount of debris to fall down on the two of them. Aragorn, who had never fired a gun before, was amazed at even the small amount of kick back he received, throwing him to the floor. Upon hearing the gunshot, several of the prisoners panicked and brandished their weapons.
Once dust and rock had stopped falling, Jack, who had ducked, stood up and pulled Aragorn to his feet.
"Well," he said, "that's how you do it. Don't worry, we all make mistakes. But now we know not to shoot the gun unless we're pointing at an enemy soldier, don't we?"
Several of the prisoners laughed appreciatively.
"I wasn't expecting the force it pushed me back with," admitted Aragorn.
"That's called kickback," said Jack. "Expect it, it'll happen every time. Right men, let's go."
All of them armed and ready, they scuttled out of the doorway and began down the long corridor. At the end of this corridor was an iron door, which led outside. As they were walking down though, they heard voices from upstairs.
"My God! Where are all the prisoners?" cried one.
"Obstinée will have us skinned and gutted," said the second darkly.
"What do we do? Where are they?" said the first.
"The gunshot we heard came from down there. Let's go."
"Oh, God no," said Jack. "Quickly, let's go!" He started ushering them along quickly, but they were still too slow. Two guards appeared on the staircase.
"Oi! Get back here!" shouted the first one. When the prisoners kept moving, the two soldiers fired off two shots. They missed, but the prisoners continued to run, even faster than before. They could not shoot back; they had no shot or bullets.
The lot of them reached the iron door, which Jack wrenched open, and flooded out of it. It was now night, and dark out. They were standing on a rock cliff, which fell into the ocean at the bottom. To their right they could see the beach below them, and even further in the distance the Swann Residence.
"Quickly, this way!" said Jack, bringing them around the corner of a door. They lined themselves along the wall, all but Jack and Aragorn, who prepared for the attack.
When the two guards bolted out the door, the two of them sprung into action. Aragorn landed the first guard a powerful punch in the nose and then a strong chop in the right of his neck. Jack grabbed the shoulders of the other, kicked him in the stomach and then smashed him into the wall. They were both knocked unconscious.
"Nice punch," commented Jack.
"We have to go fast," said Aragorn. "Soon, I presume, someone will find the prison deserted and inform someone of higher authority of it."
"No, we can't go yet," said Jack. "Look at these dogs. They're tired, and won't go very far. We'll start going again tomorrow."
"And today?"
"We'll sleep here. I personally am tediously tired, and so am going to sleep. You can keep guard for us."
"What?" protested Aragorn. "How dare you give me orders! I do not know why I've been following your command. I am a king, and deserve to be treated as such."
"You've been following me because firstly, I am the only one out of us who knows the whys and wherefores of this place, and thirdly, you need me to get back."
Aragorn could not argue this point any further, so he agreed. Jack passed him a musket, said "Sleep tight (some of us)," and with that tucked in. Aragorn was left sitting on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the sea and longing for Arwen and Eldarion. Would Eldarion be alive when Aragorn returned to Middle-earth? And a worse thought still – would he ever return to Middle-earth?
Plagued by these thoughts, Aragorn settled in for a long night of restlessness. He sat upon the escarpment, a humiliated king bent upon the brink of despair.
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Oh, poor Aragorn. I'll update soon, I promise.