They stood before the walled gates of the city in the dying light of dusk.
"You go first," said Wil.
"After you," said Dan.
"Ok, on three then. One...two...THREE!"They closed their eyes and charged forward, not stopping until they felt the packed dirt turn to cobblestones under their feet. They opened their eyes slowly.
"Do you realise where we are Dan? We're in Badon!" shouted Wil. Dan gave a great whoop. They stood around laughing, until a passing robed figure shushed them loudly.
They stopped and looked around sheepishly. It was only then that they realised that something was not quite right.
"Uh...Wil, are you sure this is the right place? I mean, I always heard that Badon was full of drunken sailors at this time of day. But it's totally deserted."
Dan was right. It looked like they had entered a ghost town. Not a soul stirred. The lights in all the buildings were dark.
They began to walk around, in hopes of finding an inn to stay the night. The plan had been to stay in Badon until they found a ship to carry them to their fortune. What would they do if they couldn't find a place?
They walked around, looking for any signs of life. They had been walking for what seemed like forever when they stumbled across what was probably the only open inn in Badon. Light spilled through the large bay window out onto the sidewalk. They could just make out the words on the sign that hung above the doorway.
"The Blue Mermaid? It'll have to do," said Wil, and they headed inside.
The bar was empty, save for the innkeeper, who stood behind the counter, slowly polishing a glass. He looked up at them, and gave them a quizzical glance. He was a grizzled old man with an eye-patch over one eye.
"What 'er you what?" he rasped.
"Um... well...uh... we were kinda wondering whether you had any spare rooms... you know... for us to rent..." said Wil, trying to avoid staring at the man's missing eye.
"You pups got some nerve, waltzin' in here all la dee da and askin' fer a room on a night like tonight," spat the old man.
They weren't sure what he meant by 'night like tonight', and they weren't about to ask either.
"So... you don't have a room for us?"
"Course I gots a room for ye. Why else d'ye think I'm open t'night?" he shook his head slowly. "You young 'uns these days. Don't know nuthin' 'bout nobody," he muttered to himself.
Dan couldn't help himself. He had to ask.
"Um, sir? What exactly is so special about tonight? I mean the town is des..." he trailed off under the glowering stare from the innkeeper.
"Do ye mean to tell me that you don't know what day it is t'day?" he asked incredulously. Wil and Dan shook their heads. "Did your muvvers never teach you nuthin'? Today's the eve of St. Elmine's birth, ye worthless whelps. That means no meats, spirits, contact with blood, or women fer another twenty four hours. Though by the looks of ye, I don't think y'have t' worry 'bout the last one." He wandered off in to a back room, chuckling to himself.
"Has it really been a month already?" asked Wil.
"Ha, we sure know how to time it, eh? The one day of the year that Badon settles down, and here we are. That's just bad luck, that is," said Dan playfully.
The innkeeper emerged from the back room with a key. He walked with a large hobble, and when he came out from behind the counter, they could see that he was also sporting a peg leg.
Dan couldn't resist.
"Uh, sir? You don't own a parrot, do you?" he said, trying not laugh.
"He died three weeks ago," said the innkeeper, eyeing them suspiciously. "Why'd you ask?"
The remnants of their breakfast lay before them. It had been a meagre meal, to say the least. The innkeeper had refused to sell them any meat or eggs, instead handing them half a loaf of old, crusty bread.
"Ok Dan, we have to talk," said Wil, all business. "We're broke. We spent the last of our money on our room last night."
"I see."
"I thought we would go out and look for some work today, but the innkeeper said that most folks won't be out today, and even if they were we'd still have probably have some trouble finding work around here."
"So what's the plan then?"
"Before you say anything, let me finish, ok? Here me out. I was thinking that you could sell your necklace-"
"Not gonna happen Wil. Forget it."
"But Dan-"
"Not a chance said," said Dan holding firm.
"We don't have a choice!"
"Look, you just don't get it, do you? This thing isn't just some hunk of gold. It means something to me."
"I know Dan, but what choice do we have? We have no money. We might as well just turn around and head home with our tails between our legs, if you're going to be like that."
"Well you know what Wil? That might not be such a bad idea after all."
"What!"
"I've been thinking a lot lately, ever since the bridge actually, that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I mean you heard that knight. This isn't some game. We almost died out there."
Wil couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Listen to yourself Dan! What happened to our grand adventure?"
"What did happen to it Wil? We've been out here a month, and if anything we're even poorer than when we started. I'm starting to think that leaving home was a huge mistake."
"I can't believe you're saying this Dan. I thought we were in this together until the end. I never thought you would quit on me..."
"Yeah... well... I guess you were wrong," said Dan, looking away. He got up, and headed for the door. "See you around."
Wil buried his head in his arms. How could everything be going so wrong?
Dan stormed out of the inn in to the sunlight. How could Wil possibly ask him to sell his necklace? He took it out of his pocket and stared at it as he walked. Didn't he realise what it stood for?
He had been walking head down, following wherever his feet took him for some time. He looked up and almost gasped. The sea stretched before him, vast and infinite. He had seen a lake or two, sure but nothing like this. He sat down on the wharf, his legs dangling over the edge, the green water swelled beneath him.
He fingered the gold chain in his hand. It was decided, he thought. He would head home, whether Wil came or not.
His thoughts were interrupted by voices behind him.
"Well, well, well. Look wot we 'ave here boys. It looks like a widdle baby wot's lost its mommy! Hahaha."
Dan's throat tightened at the sound of that voice.
"You didn't fink you'd seen the last of Brago, did ye boy?"
Dan stood up, and turned around slowly. He was completely surrounded. Directly in front of him stood Brago, clutching a large wooden bat.
"What do you want?" demanded Dan, trying to sound calm and in charge.
"Payback, that's wot. An' this time, there ain't gonna be no knight to save ye!" Brago's men burst out laughing.
Dan's mind raced furiously.
"Don't you no what day it is today? You're not supposed to-"
Brago spat at Dan's feet.
"Boy, do we look like the type wot would care 'bout that nonsense? We're already off t' hell, so's we figure what's the worse that could happen? Right boys?" more laughter.
Dan made his move. While the bandits were laughing he bowled through them and made his break for it. He didn't get more than three steps when he felt a sharp thud against the back of his head. He collapsed to the ground and blacked out.
Dan opened his eyes slowly. He hurt all over. He tried to move his arms, but found he couldn't. He could see the blood pooled around him.
He saw a pair of feet walking briskly by, and then another.
"Help..." he said feebly, his voice barely audible, before passing out again.
Dan woke to the sound of voices.
"Damned conventions! 'Ow longs the boy been layin' there?"
"At least since morn, Cap'n."
"Arr... it's a miracle the boy's even alive. You, help me pick 'im up, he's a big 'un."
Dan felt himself being picked up, but was too weak to do anything. He looked up at his captor's face. He was a big man, with a broad, scarred face and bushy grey beard.
"Not... a boy..." Dan managed to gasp.
"Har, looks like this 'uns gots some spirit in 'im. Hush now matey, you're in good hands."
Dan obliged him, slipping back into unconscious.
Dan awoke once again. He looked around himself, bleary-eyed. He was in a small, dark room lying on a wooden table. He sat up and stretched his arms. He was sore all over, but at least he could move.
"Har, so yer alive after all, eh?"
"Dan whirled his head around, looking for the source of the voice. He found it in the corner. It belonged to the man who had rescued Dan earlier. He stood next to a small, wizened old man who sat on a stool.
"Allow me t' introduce meself. I'm the famed sailor, and captain o' the good ship Davros. Me name's Captain Fargus. This ol' thing here is Ol' Jack. Now tell me matey, what be yer name?"
Dan opened his mouth to speak, but was shocked to discover that he didn't know his own name.
"What's wrong lad? Cat's got yer tongue? Speak!"
"I... I don't know..."
Fargus and Ol' Jack exchanged confused looks.
"What d' ye mean ye don't know? What kind o' mangy sea dog don't even know 'is own name?" said Fargus, starting to get a little annoyed.
"I...I can't remember anything," said Dan, wracking his brain, trying to figure who he was, and how he had gotten here.
"Amnesia," said the old man, speaking for the first time.
"What's that you say, greybeard?" asked Fargus.
"I said, amnesia. Tha's wot's it called when a fella' can't remember nuthin'."
"Amnesia, ye say? Hmm. Is that what you have boy? Amnesia?"
"I-I guess so," he stammered, growing nervous under Fargus' piercing stare.
"Well then what's the last thing ye remember lad? Think hard now," said Fargus.
"I- I remember being attacked... I think. I was lying there for so long..." Dan trailed off.
"Har, well boy, ye chose a fine day t' go an' get yerself smashed up; the one day o' the year when we're forbidden to come into contact with blood. We picked you up right at the stroke of midnight, we did," said Fargus. Ol' Jack nodded in agreement. "So boy, 'ow old are ye?"
"I don't-"
"Remember," finished Fargus, "right, right. Well then do ye know how to fight? We found this axe next to ye, an' we fig'ered it was yers," he said holding up Dan's axe.
A brief flash of a memory, a knight with orange armour, raced through Dan's head. What did it mean?
"Yeah, that's mine," said Dan, taking the axe. Maybe holding it would bring back more memories.
While Dan was mulling that over, Fargus spoke.
"Well then me bucko, I have a bit of a proposition for ye. Seein' as how we're a bit short-staffed, and you've no memory of yer past, how'd ye like to join me crew aboard the Davros?" he asked, a broad smile on his face. "You've got t' understand though, the business we're in, 'tis a bit risky. High turnover, ye know."
"You're pirates, aren't you!" gasped Dan, the pieces clicking together.
They both started laughing.
"Har, yer sharp as a dart mate. There's no foolin' 'im Jack; we'd better come clean. We be pirates, true 'nuff, but we ain't just any pirates ye see. The Davros is the most feared vessels that's ever sailed these here seas. Ye won't find a finer crew on any ship. So's 'afore ye say no mate-"
"Yes," said Dan, cutting Fargus off. "I don't know who I am, or where I was going, but I figure signing up with you seems to be my best bet Fargus."
"That'll be Cap'n Fargus now matey. But we still have one more problem. Ye need a name, me bucko. Ol' Jack, any ideas?"
"'Ow about Dart, on account of 'is bein' as sharp as one?" offered the old pirate.
"Hmm. Dart ye say? It has a certain ring t' it, I'll admit. What say you boy? Yea or nay?"
"I like it," said Dan with a smile.
A huge grin came over Fargus' face.
"Har, in that case, I christen you Dart. Welcome aboard matey!"
"Dart," said Dart, rolling the word over his tongue.
"Jack, head up above decks an' tell the boys that we set sail at once. Oh yeah, an' tell 'em we've got a new member. This calls for a celebration!"
Wil sat on the wharf, his legs dangling above the water, watching the early morning sun rise. In the distance a ship sailed out of the harbour, a stiff breeze filling its sails.
Dan had been gone for a whole day now. Wil hadn't taken him seriously when Dan had said he was leaving. He had just assumed that Dan would come crawling back eventually, and apologise for insulting their dream. Well, his dream, at least, thought Wil. If Dan wanted to spend the rest of his life tilling soil, that was his choice. Good riddance anyway.
Wil stood up and stretched. If Dan had headed home, then there was no point in sticking around here. Wil had given up on joining a ship's crew. He would set out from Badon by foot. He wasn't sure where he would go. Anywhere but home, he figured. He started walking. Perhaps he would head north. He had heard great stories about the mercenaries of Ilia; maybe he could sign up with them.
Whatever path he decided follow, it would be one hundred times more exciting than Dan's life. Of that, Wil was sure.