The next afternoon, the army of thirty, Jack, Will, Aragorn, Elizabeth, and
Tlilpotonqui were tossed by seas once again. They had navigated out of the
mysterious Aztec River and returned to the ocean. Now Jack was taking them
to where the treasure Aragorn needed lay hidden.
The seas were rough, though the day was clear. They were not in open water, for one thing. They had gotten through the open waters in the morning, and now they were sailing through a bay. The cliffs around them were solid rock. There was a narrow channel in between to large, round outcroppings that they were headed to.
Tlilpotonqui, apparently, was beginning to regret agreeing to Jack's terms. He did not think that Jack would hold true to his promise and give them gold and blood.
"Smoking sparrow," he said, "it seems you have deceived me."
"How is that?" replied Jack.
"You told me we would receive gold," the priest said. "And we would be able to kill. We have not."
"Well we're not there yet are we?" said Jack. "You don't get your gold until we're there, and I'm not completely sure about whether you will get to spill blood."
Meanwhile, down below, Will and Aragorn were practicing their sword skills (only lightly, so Will's thin rapier would not be broken by Aragorn's far stronger sword). Aragorn soon discovered that Will was a very talented swordsman. With his light and thin sword, he could make many movements that would be impossible for a sword of Andúril's bulk.
The Aztecs practiced amongst themselves also. Their clubs were deadly; the obsidian blades on the sides were sharper than the sharpest sword to come out of Gondor. Aragorn felt sure they could have severed a steed's head in one blow (which they could, incidentally).
They were prepared to fight.
Aragorn lay in his uncomfortable bed that night, trying and failing to rest. Eldarion kept appearing in his head, looking more and more pale and ill. Arwen continued also to materialize, calling silently to Aragorn.
"Arwen..." Aragorn muttered. back..."
"Come to us, Aragorn," she said. "Eldarion is dying." And then she faded away into darkness.
"No!" cried Aragorn and he sat up quickly in his bed.
He got out of his bed and walked over to the window. He looked out it into the dark sea. In the pocket of his trousers he fingered something soft. He took hold of it and brought it out. In the darkness he had trouble making out what it was, but eventually he realized it was the Athelas he had picked the fateful day he had found the coin. It was still fresh.
"If only it could heal an ailing heart," he said morosely.
The next day, their weapon skills were put to use. At high noon, Aragorn, Jack, Will, and Elizabeth stood up on the captain's platform. Jack was piloting the boat.
"See that cave up ahead?" Jack said to Aragorn, pointing at the very distant shoreline.
"No," said Aragorn irritably.
"Well there is a cave up there," said Jack. "That is where your treasure is."
"You speak as though the gold is a prize I am plundering for," said Aragorn. "I need it to get back to Middle-earth. I do not want to see it again after that."
"Alright, alright, keep your hat on," said Jack.
"Jack!" said Elizabeth suddenly, peering through the telescope over the port side of the ship. "To the west!"
Jack abandoned the wheel and walked over to the telescope. Elizabeth moved out of the way and Jack looked into it. Approaching their port side was a dark, evil ship. Its spar was bladed and it had black sails, and skeletons hanging from the sides. It was the Fell Strike.
"Told you they'd follow us," said Jack.
"And to the east!" said Will, looking through the starboard telescope. Jack approached it and looked through it. Approaching them from that side was another ship. It was official-looking and had white sails, and flew a British flag. A ship of the Fleet.
"My God," said Jack. "They've allied!"
"What do we do?" said Will.
"Get your weapons ready!" commanded Jack. Tlilpotonqui, on the lower deck, issued the command to the Aztec warriors.
"I hope you remember how to use your pistol," Jack said to Aragorn.
Aragorn stuffed a ball and powder down the barrel of his handgun and tucked it into his belt. Jack and Will did the same, and Elizabeth prepared a musket from under the wheel. Down below, Tlilpotonqui and the Aztecs nocked flint-headed arrows in their bowstrings. Fifteen archers were positioned on either side of the ship, and fifteen spearmen and club-carriers behind them.
Andúril was ready as ever, and seemed to lust to fight again. Both of Aragorn's hands wrapped around its mithril hilt. Jack's and Will's swords were readied, held one-handed. Elizabeth held her musket at the ready.
"Lower port anchor!" ordered Jack. Tlilpotonqui ran up and dropped the starboard anchor.
"Close enough," shrugged Jack.
The ship lurched to a halt and made a sharp U-turn right. The two enemy ships move swiftly towards them.
"You may not actually see your treasure, Aragorn," said Will.
"Nor will you see the musket ball when it hits you," said Jack.
"Thank you, Jack," said Aragorn.
The Fell Strike sailed up and aligned with them on their port side. The British ship, called the Seafarer, came up on their starboard.
"Fire!" roared a voice from the Seafarer, and musket smoke shot from the side of the ship, and gunshots went off. The hull of the Navis Fugacis was pummeled with lead balls. None of their crewmembers was hit, however.
Tlilpotonqui ordered that the archers on either side of the ship release arrows. They did so all in unison, so the arrows flew evenly together. All of them hit a target. Soldiers and pirates fell off both ships and into the water.
"Arrows!" came an oddly familiar voice from the Seafarer. "'Ow preemitive!"
It was Constable Obstinée.
"I'll show you primitive," snarled Aragorn and pointed his pistol. He could see Obstinée standing at the wheel, vain and uncaring for his soldiers that just died. Aragorn pulled the trigger on his gun. He missed the Constable, but managed to hit the wheel, and send the ship spinning left. Obstinée lost his balance and fell on his back.
Suddenly, the crew of the Fell Strike fired pistols. Five Aztec archers fell dead, but many bullets hit the ship. One that stuck in the wheel stand Jack pulled from the wood. It was another of Machiavel's sinister inventions. There was a short, hooked spike on the front. Jack swore quietly.
He, Will, and Elizabeth fired their flintlocks weapons at the Fell Strike together. Three screams were heard and two pirates fell dead.
Then the Seafarer and the Fell Strike began moving closer to the Navis Fugacis. The Aztecs shot again. Many more crewmen fell dead. The Fell Strike turned towards the ship and moved right up to it. The pirate ship's spar began to raise and then came down swiftly upon the Navis Fugacis' deck. The blades chopped into the wood. Pirates began to swing on by ropes and grapnels. Many were shot out of the air by the skilled Aztec archers. The British had extended planks from the Seafarer to get onto the Navis Fugacis. They ran across, brandishing their sabres. The first line was shot.
Then on either side the enemies poured on. The archers moved away and the spearmen pointed their spears forward. The enemy crews either charged or swung into their flint points. Then the battle began. When the next line of soldiers came on from both ships, the spearmen had not had time to skewer them. The club-bearers attacked, breaking the sabres and cutlasses, and devastated the unarmoured enemies. But there were many more of them than there were Aztecs.
Númenorean blood suddenly surged through Aragorn's system. He dropped his pistol, drew Andúril in a flash and was off to the deck. Jack and Will took out their swords and followed him. Elizabeth stayed up at the wheel with her musket.
Aragorn experienced battle one again. Andúril rang every time it struck down a foe – it was a beautiful sound. He suddenly noticed that while all his men were fighting, Obstinée was standing on his ship, watching.
The warrior ran through the battle and onto the Seafarer. How cowardly, to watch his men die but stay away from battle himself. Aragorn tore up the steps of the Seafarer, killing the men guarding them as he went. Obstinée whipped around as Aragorn approached.
"Heh heh heh," laughed Obstinée. "It ees Monsieur Turner, the leetle miscreant."
"I am not Mister Turner," snarled Aragorn. "I am Aragorn Evenstar, son of Arathorn. I am a King!"
"You are a scruffbag," said Obstinée.
"It does not matter," said Aragorn. "We fight now, king versus coward."
"Such a stupide man," said Obstinée calmly, smiling infuriatingly at Aragorn. Aragorn brandished his sword at Obstinée.
Obstinée sighed and said, "Si tu insistes."
He drew from his belt a long backsword. It had a silver basket hilt with red velvet on the inside.
"We fight," spat Aragorn.
Aragorn made the first offensive move. He charged forth and swung Andúril left at Obstinée, but the constable merely stepped out of the way, holding his sword out carelessly with his right hand.
"Tsk, tsk," said Obstinée. "Such arrogance."
Aragorn stabbed at him, but Obstinée parried the move downward. Then they began to actually fight, swords swinging and clanging, the offensive passing from one to the other several times.
Eventually Obstinée calmly swung his sword sideways and cut into Aragorn's right arm. The king gasped and stumbled, but retained his balance.
They fought some more. Surprisingly Obstinée's sword was still in good condition. Aragorn had expected it to break easily. But it was thicker than a rapier, and so tougher.
Aragorn aimed most of his blows at the man's neck, but he was too smart for them. Then Obstinée slashed him diagonally across the chest. Aragorn fell to his knees, and his sword clattered to the ground. Obstinée was a far more skilled foe than Aragorn had ever fought.
Obstinée put the end of his blade under Aragorn's chin, and raised it to between his eyes.
"You are a fool to challenge me," he said arrogantly and smiled in a falsely sweet way.
He pulled back his sword and then thrust it forward, straight at Aragorn's face. A split second before it would have hit, Aragorn's hand flew up and grabbed the blade, and gripped it tightly. It stopped where it was. Obstinée tried to wrench it free, but Aragorn would not let go. The blade was cutting his hand, and blood streamed out of it, but he did not release it. Gathering all the strength he could, he slowly but surely bent the sword's blade into a right angle.
"Let go and face defeat!" spat Obstinée, but he was worried.
As fast as lightning, Aragorn's free hand shot to his belt and the blade of his Elven knife flashed as it flew out. He thrust it forward and it plunged into Obstinée's stomach before the constable knew he had drawn it.
Obstinée gagged and dropped his sword. He dropped to his knees, his mouth wide open. Blood began to seep out at the corners. Aragorn took up Andúril again in both hands, held it high above his head, and swung it down with seismic force. It sliced deep into Obstinée's left shoulder, and he crumpled under the force of the blow like a dandelion under a hoof. He lay on the ground, deader than Mordor.
"Revenge truly is great," snarled Aragorn, wiped the blood from his blade with his cape and returned to the Navis Fugacis.
------------
Bwahahahaha! Now I know what you're thinking: "Obstinée got HIS come- uppance, what about Machiavel, though?" Don't worry, I've got death planned out in his future, as well.
But until I write my next chapter, that will be yours to imagine. Enjoy doing so.
The seas were rough, though the day was clear. They were not in open water, for one thing. They had gotten through the open waters in the morning, and now they were sailing through a bay. The cliffs around them were solid rock. There was a narrow channel in between to large, round outcroppings that they were headed to.
Tlilpotonqui, apparently, was beginning to regret agreeing to Jack's terms. He did not think that Jack would hold true to his promise and give them gold and blood.
"Smoking sparrow," he said, "it seems you have deceived me."
"How is that?" replied Jack.
"You told me we would receive gold," the priest said. "And we would be able to kill. We have not."
"Well we're not there yet are we?" said Jack. "You don't get your gold until we're there, and I'm not completely sure about whether you will get to spill blood."
Meanwhile, down below, Will and Aragorn were practicing their sword skills (only lightly, so Will's thin rapier would not be broken by Aragorn's far stronger sword). Aragorn soon discovered that Will was a very talented swordsman. With his light and thin sword, he could make many movements that would be impossible for a sword of Andúril's bulk.
The Aztecs practiced amongst themselves also. Their clubs were deadly; the obsidian blades on the sides were sharper than the sharpest sword to come out of Gondor. Aragorn felt sure they could have severed a steed's head in one blow (which they could, incidentally).
They were prepared to fight.
Aragorn lay in his uncomfortable bed that night, trying and failing to rest. Eldarion kept appearing in his head, looking more and more pale and ill. Arwen continued also to materialize, calling silently to Aragorn.
"Arwen..." Aragorn muttered. back..."
"Come to us, Aragorn," she said. "Eldarion is dying." And then she faded away into darkness.
"No!" cried Aragorn and he sat up quickly in his bed.
He got out of his bed and walked over to the window. He looked out it into the dark sea. In the pocket of his trousers he fingered something soft. He took hold of it and brought it out. In the darkness he had trouble making out what it was, but eventually he realized it was the Athelas he had picked the fateful day he had found the coin. It was still fresh.
"If only it could heal an ailing heart," he said morosely.
The next day, their weapon skills were put to use. At high noon, Aragorn, Jack, Will, and Elizabeth stood up on the captain's platform. Jack was piloting the boat.
"See that cave up ahead?" Jack said to Aragorn, pointing at the very distant shoreline.
"No," said Aragorn irritably.
"Well there is a cave up there," said Jack. "That is where your treasure is."
"You speak as though the gold is a prize I am plundering for," said Aragorn. "I need it to get back to Middle-earth. I do not want to see it again after that."
"Alright, alright, keep your hat on," said Jack.
"Jack!" said Elizabeth suddenly, peering through the telescope over the port side of the ship. "To the west!"
Jack abandoned the wheel and walked over to the telescope. Elizabeth moved out of the way and Jack looked into it. Approaching their port side was a dark, evil ship. Its spar was bladed and it had black sails, and skeletons hanging from the sides. It was the Fell Strike.
"Told you they'd follow us," said Jack.
"And to the east!" said Will, looking through the starboard telescope. Jack approached it and looked through it. Approaching them from that side was another ship. It was official-looking and had white sails, and flew a British flag. A ship of the Fleet.
"My God," said Jack. "They've allied!"
"What do we do?" said Will.
"Get your weapons ready!" commanded Jack. Tlilpotonqui, on the lower deck, issued the command to the Aztec warriors.
"I hope you remember how to use your pistol," Jack said to Aragorn.
Aragorn stuffed a ball and powder down the barrel of his handgun and tucked it into his belt. Jack and Will did the same, and Elizabeth prepared a musket from under the wheel. Down below, Tlilpotonqui and the Aztecs nocked flint-headed arrows in their bowstrings. Fifteen archers were positioned on either side of the ship, and fifteen spearmen and club-carriers behind them.
Andúril was ready as ever, and seemed to lust to fight again. Both of Aragorn's hands wrapped around its mithril hilt. Jack's and Will's swords were readied, held one-handed. Elizabeth held her musket at the ready.
"Lower port anchor!" ordered Jack. Tlilpotonqui ran up and dropped the starboard anchor.
"Close enough," shrugged Jack.
The ship lurched to a halt and made a sharp U-turn right. The two enemy ships move swiftly towards them.
"You may not actually see your treasure, Aragorn," said Will.
"Nor will you see the musket ball when it hits you," said Jack.
"Thank you, Jack," said Aragorn.
The Fell Strike sailed up and aligned with them on their port side. The British ship, called the Seafarer, came up on their starboard.
"Fire!" roared a voice from the Seafarer, and musket smoke shot from the side of the ship, and gunshots went off. The hull of the Navis Fugacis was pummeled with lead balls. None of their crewmembers was hit, however.
Tlilpotonqui ordered that the archers on either side of the ship release arrows. They did so all in unison, so the arrows flew evenly together. All of them hit a target. Soldiers and pirates fell off both ships and into the water.
"Arrows!" came an oddly familiar voice from the Seafarer. "'Ow preemitive!"
It was Constable Obstinée.
"I'll show you primitive," snarled Aragorn and pointed his pistol. He could see Obstinée standing at the wheel, vain and uncaring for his soldiers that just died. Aragorn pulled the trigger on his gun. He missed the Constable, but managed to hit the wheel, and send the ship spinning left. Obstinée lost his balance and fell on his back.
Suddenly, the crew of the Fell Strike fired pistols. Five Aztec archers fell dead, but many bullets hit the ship. One that stuck in the wheel stand Jack pulled from the wood. It was another of Machiavel's sinister inventions. There was a short, hooked spike on the front. Jack swore quietly.
He, Will, and Elizabeth fired their flintlocks weapons at the Fell Strike together. Three screams were heard and two pirates fell dead.
Then the Seafarer and the Fell Strike began moving closer to the Navis Fugacis. The Aztecs shot again. Many more crewmen fell dead. The Fell Strike turned towards the ship and moved right up to it. The pirate ship's spar began to raise and then came down swiftly upon the Navis Fugacis' deck. The blades chopped into the wood. Pirates began to swing on by ropes and grapnels. Many were shot out of the air by the skilled Aztec archers. The British had extended planks from the Seafarer to get onto the Navis Fugacis. They ran across, brandishing their sabres. The first line was shot.
Then on either side the enemies poured on. The archers moved away and the spearmen pointed their spears forward. The enemy crews either charged or swung into their flint points. Then the battle began. When the next line of soldiers came on from both ships, the spearmen had not had time to skewer them. The club-bearers attacked, breaking the sabres and cutlasses, and devastated the unarmoured enemies. But there were many more of them than there were Aztecs.
Númenorean blood suddenly surged through Aragorn's system. He dropped his pistol, drew Andúril in a flash and was off to the deck. Jack and Will took out their swords and followed him. Elizabeth stayed up at the wheel with her musket.
Aragorn experienced battle one again. Andúril rang every time it struck down a foe – it was a beautiful sound. He suddenly noticed that while all his men were fighting, Obstinée was standing on his ship, watching.
The warrior ran through the battle and onto the Seafarer. How cowardly, to watch his men die but stay away from battle himself. Aragorn tore up the steps of the Seafarer, killing the men guarding them as he went. Obstinée whipped around as Aragorn approached.
"Heh heh heh," laughed Obstinée. "It ees Monsieur Turner, the leetle miscreant."
"I am not Mister Turner," snarled Aragorn. "I am Aragorn Evenstar, son of Arathorn. I am a King!"
"You are a scruffbag," said Obstinée.
"It does not matter," said Aragorn. "We fight now, king versus coward."
"Such a stupide man," said Obstinée calmly, smiling infuriatingly at Aragorn. Aragorn brandished his sword at Obstinée.
Obstinée sighed and said, "Si tu insistes."
He drew from his belt a long backsword. It had a silver basket hilt with red velvet on the inside.
"We fight," spat Aragorn.
Aragorn made the first offensive move. He charged forth and swung Andúril left at Obstinée, but the constable merely stepped out of the way, holding his sword out carelessly with his right hand.
"Tsk, tsk," said Obstinée. "Such arrogance."
Aragorn stabbed at him, but Obstinée parried the move downward. Then they began to actually fight, swords swinging and clanging, the offensive passing from one to the other several times.
Eventually Obstinée calmly swung his sword sideways and cut into Aragorn's right arm. The king gasped and stumbled, but retained his balance.
They fought some more. Surprisingly Obstinée's sword was still in good condition. Aragorn had expected it to break easily. But it was thicker than a rapier, and so tougher.
Aragorn aimed most of his blows at the man's neck, but he was too smart for them. Then Obstinée slashed him diagonally across the chest. Aragorn fell to his knees, and his sword clattered to the ground. Obstinée was a far more skilled foe than Aragorn had ever fought.
Obstinée put the end of his blade under Aragorn's chin, and raised it to between his eyes.
"You are a fool to challenge me," he said arrogantly and smiled in a falsely sweet way.
He pulled back his sword and then thrust it forward, straight at Aragorn's face. A split second before it would have hit, Aragorn's hand flew up and grabbed the blade, and gripped it tightly. It stopped where it was. Obstinée tried to wrench it free, but Aragorn would not let go. The blade was cutting his hand, and blood streamed out of it, but he did not release it. Gathering all the strength he could, he slowly but surely bent the sword's blade into a right angle.
"Let go and face defeat!" spat Obstinée, but he was worried.
As fast as lightning, Aragorn's free hand shot to his belt and the blade of his Elven knife flashed as it flew out. He thrust it forward and it plunged into Obstinée's stomach before the constable knew he had drawn it.
Obstinée gagged and dropped his sword. He dropped to his knees, his mouth wide open. Blood began to seep out at the corners. Aragorn took up Andúril again in both hands, held it high above his head, and swung it down with seismic force. It sliced deep into Obstinée's left shoulder, and he crumpled under the force of the blow like a dandelion under a hoof. He lay on the ground, deader than Mordor.
"Revenge truly is great," snarled Aragorn, wiped the blood from his blade with his cape and returned to the Navis Fugacis.
------------
Bwahahahaha! Now I know what you're thinking: "Obstinée got HIS come- uppance, what about Machiavel, though?" Don't worry, I've got death planned out in his future, as well.
But until I write my next chapter, that will be yours to imagine. Enjoy doing so.