This is a Pirates of the Carribean style AU full of maritime rouges and curses. I am intending to add more to the Deal-Maker (Fantasy AU) story at some time but inspiration for this one struck me first.
All reviews are appreciated!
The attack had come out of nowhere. One moment the night had been still and peaceful and then the explosion of cannons had rocked Bayport. Joe and Frank had scrambled from their beds. With Frank at sixteen and Joe at fifteen, it was not by any means their first pirate raid on the coastal town. They knew if they could secure their house well enough that pirates couldn't easily slip in, they were likely to be left alone. After all, raids were meant to be quick affairs. Pirates would swarm the town, carry off anything they could do easily, kill anyone who got in their way. Buildings that there securely latched up were often ignored in favour of easier targets.
So Frank and Joe darted about their house, shouting at each other about who was covering which latches and locks. Their mother was only just reaching the top of the stairs by the time the brothers had the building sealed up. It was just the three of them. Their father had been lost at sea when the boys had been too young for either of them to remember him. That it was a woman alone with her two young sons and in a reasonably sized and well-maintained house had made the place a target when the boys had been younger.
"What are you doing?" Laura shouted as she watched her sons drawing the swords they kept at hand in case pirates did manage to get in.
"Mr Morton is out of town on business," Frank reminded her. "Chet, Iola and their mother are alone and their house is not as secure as ours. We'll head over there and help them defend it. You lock the door after us. You'll be fine."
"It's not me I'm worried about," Laura asserted, hurrying down the stairs toward her boys. "There are pirates out there. And you are in your night clothes."
"The Mortons are only three streets away," Joe said, dutifully tugging on his coat over his loose night clothes.
Frank did the same. He had to admit he and Joe looked quite the sight, wearing the ratty trousers and loose shirts they slept in with swords hanging from their sides, their heavy coats catching on the blades.
"We'll be fine," Frank promised her.
He kissed his mother on the cheek, Joe following suit a moment after.
"Lock the door after us!" Joe shouted as he and Frank headed off into the chaos.
It seemed like pirates had overrun the town. There was no street the brothers could go down that was not swarming with the brutes. Fires had started. They could see a building in the distance was crumbling under the cannon fire. Even before they had left their own street, they had been forced to drive two pirates back away from a woman.
"Is that them?" one of the pirates had whispered.
"Gotta be," the second one said, pointing at Frank. "He's the spitting image of the man."
The pirates lunged as one. Frank and Joe danced away, slashing at them with their swords. Once they were sure the two were incapacitated, they continued on. The authorities could round up any pirates who didn't make it back to the boat when the raid ended. They needed to get to the Morton house before someone was hurt or too much had been carried off.
Their bare feet pounded the cobblestone paths. Frank was forced to dodge as a local man lunged at him. He had no idea if the man wanted help, wanted to steal his sword or was preparing an attack of his own. He didn't seem injured. Frank would have stopped if he were but he didn't want to risk allowing himself to be cornered by one of the vile townsfolk who took advantage of pirate raids to do some raiding of their own.
Nor did he want to get separated from Joe. It was so easy for people to end up getting lost in the chaos and…
Frank's heart leapt into his mouth. Joe was further down the road, struggling in the grip of two pirates. His sword was lost to the street and the pirates were both a good head and shoulders taller than Joe. A third man stood in front of Frank's brother, looking down at a sheet of paper and glancing up at Joe.
"Yes. It's him. Get him to the boat," the third pirate said as Frank raced up.
Bayport had been rather fortunate in that very few of the raids resulted in people being carried off by pirates. The people who lived in Bayport were, on the whole, not sailors. They were a centre for trade instead. They created things, sold items, unloaded merchant shipments and sent them on their way further inland. In a place like Bayport, stealing items was much more productive for the pirates than abducting new recruits for their crews.
But Joe was young, healthy, physically strong. Merchants often offered both of the brothers fair wages to join their crews but their mother would never stand to see her boys heading off to sea. She told them she wasn't going to lose them like their father.
And Frank wasn't about to lose his younger brother.
Frank did the first thing he could think of. He charged forward, levelling the tip of his sword at the third pirate. He stopped just before he touched him, the silent threat obvious. After all, it seemed like the third pirate was in charge. He had been the one who had decided Joe was worth taking.
"Let him go," Frank growled.
"Ah, here's the second one now," the third pirate remarked, voice calm and steady.
"Frank, look out!" Joe shouted.
Frank saw where his brother's blue eyes had tracked to. He turned quickly, preparing to make his move.
He wasn't fast enough. Before Frank could even work out what was happening, something hard struck him on his temple. He dropped his sword, collapsing to the ground beside it.
"Frank!" Joe shouted.
Vision swimming, Frank tried to look toward his younger brother. They were taking him. The pirates were taking Joe. He needed to get up. He needed to stop them. If they got Joe to the boat, he might never see him again.
Frank pushed himself onto his hands. They shook under his weight. Then they collapsed. He was once more dropped heavily against the cobblestones. A hand closed tightly about his arm. Frank felt himself being dragged to his feet but his legs wouldn't cooperate. There was a growl from his side. Frank presumed the owner of the hand had made some sort of threat he was too dizzy to make sense of. And then Frank felt himself being lifted.
The impact of a shoulder in his stomach sealed Frank's fate. His world faded to black as the pirate began to carry him toward the boat. The last thing he saw was the smirking face of the third pirate following behind them.
Joe was the first thing Frank saw when he woke up. The wave of relief that filled him was almost enough to chase away all the nausea and pain that overwhelmed his body.
"Frank!" Joe gasped, overjoyed to see him.
Frank raced himself for the hug that never came. He was questioning what he could have possibly done to annoy Joe as his mind slowly began to piece together his surroundings. He and Joe were not alone. In fact, there were four men with them. Frank recognised three of them. Two were the brutes who had carried Joe away. Another was the smug pirate who had seemed to be in charge. The fourth Frank realised was the man who had knocked him out and carried him… Where?
Frank looked around, ignoring the protests of his body as he tried to work out where he was. He was lying down on something hard. There wasn't much space and the ground wasn't flat. In fact it curved rather dramatically near his head. And it wasn't steady either. It swayed from side to side like… Like he was at sea.
A boat.
They were in a boat. Frank felt a wave of panic pass through him at the realisation. He struggled to sit up, his hands no cooperating with him.
"Frank, calm down," Joe said urgently.
"Sit him up before he capsizes us," a voice snapped.
Frank felt strong hands grabbing at him, manoeuvring him into a sitting position. He took a moment to calm himself. He wasn't in a big boat. In fact, the rowing boat was cramped with just the six of them. It had been designed to carry people from a larger boat out at sea into land.
Joe was sitting opposite him. He had a nasty bruise about one eye but seemed otherwise unarmed. Still, able to see his brother properly for the first time, Frank realised Joe's wrists were bound in front of him with a thick, rough rope. His wrists were much the same – no wonder his hands had not been cooperating. There was a length of rope attached to each of their bound hands, snaking to the hand of the smug pirate in charge of the little band. Clearly the pirates were wary of the prospect of the two of them jumping overboard.
"They're taking us to their ship," Joe reported. "I don't know what they want from us. They won't tell me anything."
"You're lucky we didn't gag you," the third pirate snarled, giving the rope attached to Joe's wrists a vicious tug.
"They're not the friendliest bunch," Joe continued.
Hoping that he might be able to distract Joe, Frank turned his attention toward the direction their landing craft was heading. His heart sank. An enormous brigantine was sitting out in the water, brightly lit by the flaming torches of a raiding party who were climbing aboard with sacks full of plundered goods. It had two towering masts, pirates hurrying about on deck and celebrating their successes. Frank's eyes scanned the wooden hull, catching on the name painted onto the side.
"The Iron Rudder?" Frank choked out.
He knew the name. Every person in Bayport knew the name. The Iron Rudder belonged to Captain James Attaway, a fearsome pirate renowned for his bloodlust and greed. He had been a pirate for decades, growing increasingly more dangerous with every passing year.
"You're taking us there?" Joe managed.
"Where else?" their captors chuckled darkly.
Frank and Joe were carried aboard the boat and dumped unceremoniously on the deck. They felt utterly helpless as they surveyed the swarm of pirates – all grown men laden heavily with muscles, each armed to the teeth.
One grabbed Joe by his shirt, dragging him to his feet.
"Get off him!" Frank shout as another one pulled roughly at him.
The brothers were shoved about by the pirates, hit and scratched by rough, weatherworn hands. Occasionally Frank would catch a glimpse of Joe through the crowd before he lost sight of him in the intense gathering.
Frank found himself becoming dizzy, overwhelmed by the weight of people around him. And they were all talking amongst themselves. Their voices overlapped. Frank was only able to catch snatches of conversation.
"They're them, right?"
"They don't look like brothers."
"The older one looks just like him."
"He bit me! The brat bit me!"
That shout was followed by a loud yelp.
"JOE!" Frank shouted.
"That's enough of that!" a voice boomed.
The pirates immediately stilled. Frank and Joe turned.
Standing on the poop deck, hands gripping the railings, was a figure commanding so much respect Frank and Joe knew he could be no one other than Captain James Attaway. He was tall, dressed in fine clothing, with thick black hair and a wiry beard. He smirked as the brothers' eyes landed upon him.
"Good hunting, men," he praised. "Share out the loot. I'll see our new friends in my cabin."
Two giants of pirates wrestled Frank and Joe through the door beneath the poop deck. The brothers drank in the room with awe. It was the finest place they had ever seen. Gold leaf glistened in the lantern light. Portraits hung on the walls, expensive clothing draped haphazardly about the place. A fine table was set out before them, piled high with fine foods. All the cutlery was silver, all the plates fine china.
Frank and Joe were still taking it all in, slack-jawed, when Captain Attaway entered.
"Are we really so scared of boys that their hands need to be bound?" Attaway asked.
His men didn't answer. Instead they grabbed at Frank and Joe, yanking their wrists toward them as they untied them. Both brothers had to bite back yelps at the roughness of their captors. Attaway tutted, dismissing his men the moment the brothers were free. He moved in front of them, one hand resting on his sword. He held out his hand, reaching out toward Joe's red, agitated wrists. Frank pulled his brother behind him, glowering at the captain.
"I am afraid I know the names but not who each one belongs to," Attaway said, holding Frank's gaze. "Are you Frank or Joseph?"
"I'm Frank," Frank replied.
"So this must be Joseph," Attaway said, turning his attention over Frank's shoulder. "I am sorry my men were so rough with you. I did tell them to be gracious hosts but they can be so… overzealous."
He began to move across the room, settling at the head of the table. Frank found his eyes turning to the door. They weren't too far from land. Perhaps he and Joe might be able to swim back.
But he shot down that idea. There were too many pirates. Brigantines could hold up to a hundred men. They didn't stand a chance.
"You're very well educated for a pirate," Frank said, instead, hoping he might be able to strike some sort of deal with the captain.
Attaway thanked him, inviting the brothers to sit at his table. Though his words were polite, his tone was not. Frank and Joe both did as he requested, seeing no reason in antagonising their captor needlessly.
"I specifically asked that you were both treated kindly because I wanted you brought here alive and in a state that it would be easy to keep you as such," Attaway continued.
"What do you want from us?" Joe asked. "I mean it's obvious you were after us specifically."
Attaway nodded. He took a long drink from a golden goblet on the table before him and told the brothers to eat whatever they wanted.
"How much do you boys know about your father?" he asked.
Frank and Joe glanced at each other. It was not a topic their mother talked much about. It had always caused her too much pain. But they knew some things. She had felt like she owed them at least something of an explanation.
"Our mother said he was a sailor, that he went away on a voyage to set up a life for us and that he was lost at sea."
Attaway chuckled, darkly.
"A fine line. The best lies always are based on truth."
Joe shook his head firmly. He told the captain that their mother would not have lied to them about something like that. Attaway snarled, slamming his goblet hard down on the table.
"We won't get along, boy, if you don't learn that my word is law around here. I might not be a good man but I am not a liar. If I tell you your wrench of a mother lied, then she did. And she did so for a good reason. Same goes for my threats. I don't lie. You accuse me of lying again and I will tell my crew not to bother with kindness."
Joe fell silent. He didn't feel like he had much choice. They were trapped on a boat with dozens of blood-thirsty pirates. They didn't have a hope in surviving if he didn't offer them his protection from the crew.
"What is the truth about our father?" Frank asked, hoping he might steer the conversation away from Joe.
"Your father is a man by the name of Fenton Hardy."
"Wait? The Fenton Hardy?" Joe gasped.
"I take it you have heard of him," Attaway smiled.
It alarmed Frank how easily the man switched from his violent rage back to wonderful, welcoming host.
"Yes. We've heard of him," Frank said, picking his words very carefully. "He's a pirate, scourge of the navy. But I… And I mean no offence by saying this… I can't see him with our mother. She would never love a…"
He trailed off, not wanting to cause offence.
"Pirate?" Attaway finished. "Oh, but Fenton Hardy isn't like any pirate you'll ever meet. He started out like one, of course. In fact, he was on the crew of this fine vessel back when he was your age. We both were. My father owned this vessel back then, found Fenton on a naval vessel and abducted him when he butchered the rest, forced him into joining up with us. And he was good. He was the best pirate we ever had. When my father died, I made him my first mate. Only man I trusted. Then we went on a raid of Bayport. He met a woman, your mother, who said some sentimental rubbish to him, turned his head."
He let out a long sneer.
"He was never the same after that. Lost his edge. Started showing mercy. He said we could be better people, only steal from other pirates, only attack members of the navy we knew were corrupt. I captured another ship at that time, a beautiful vessel called the Ocean Melody. I made him captain of that ship, working under me. And then I find out he has been using it to visit her, your mother. He told me himself when he came to me with news that the woman was pregnant. He said he wanted to leave the crew, take the woman as his wife and settle down to honest work. I refused him, said I'd rather see the woman in the brig than see such talents squandered on land. We parted ways with him vowing to never see her again. A year later, I hear reports she's pregnant again and everyone knows Fenton Hardy is the father."
Attaway sat back, looking between the boys. Frank glanced toward Joe, silently wondering if his brother believed the tale Attaway was telling them. As much as he wished he didn't, Frank couldn't help but think that the story answered all the questions he had had about his father, filled in the gaps their mother's account had not.
"With the two of you born, Fenton came to me again. This time, he wasn't asking for permission. He was informing me he was done with piracy, intended to take his family inland where no one would recognise him and raise his boys. You see the situation he put me in? What other choice did I have?"
Frank found himself swallowing thickly as a terrible thought passed through him. He looked toward Joe, seeing his brother had come to the same horrific conclusion. Attaway scoffed at their expressions.
"Don't worry, boys. I didn't kill him. Killing him was too good for him. Rather, I had a sea witch place a curse upon him and his crew. Anyone besides his crew that your father touches dies. His skin is poisonous. All of his crew are like it. It is what has kept him from you for all these years, torture for a man like him to know the ones he loves are out of his reach. He might risk contact with strangers by just covering his skin but he could never risk the family he loves so dearly."
"Curses are real?" Joe managed unsteadily. "I thought they were just old wives' tales."
Attaway nodded, admitting a good number were, that a lot of women peddled fake curses to make themselves a little money. But pirates knew where to find the real witches, knew where to find all manner of creatures that were told to children to keep them in line.
With the acknowledgement of curses being real, both brothers were relieved their appetites had evaporated when they were abducted by Attaway's crew. They didn't dare risk eating a thing on the table before them.
"You still haven't explained why you took us," Frank said.
What Attaway had told them had left him shaken. And yet it seemed plausible. He could remember snatches, times when his mother had contradicted herself about their father, times when he had caught people pointing at him and Joe and whispering about pirates. And if the first half was true, he couldn't disbelieve the second part.
"Because he cannot be there for you or your mother, your father has dedicated himself to doing all he can to make the world better for you from a distance. He robs from the sort of corrupt officials we can turn to for safe passage – humiliating them until they are demoted or fired. He foils the plans of other pirates, distributes their gold amongst villages and leaves it for widows and children. Do you really think your mother could afford to not have you two working if her only source of income was as a seamstress?"
Neither Frank nor Joe spoke. They just held the captain's steely gaze.
"But your father's noble efforts have made him many enemies. Pirates are not the unorganised rabble you have no doubt been told we are. There is a council made up of the most powerful pirates on these waters. They set codes like parley and plan the deaths of men that one of them alone would not be able to kill. And they have sworn to end your father for his attacks on their boats. They summoned me a month ago. Because I am the cause of his condition, they blame me for Fenton's actions. If I cannot kill your father by the end of the year, they will kill me."
Frank and Joe shifted about uncomfortably. The pirate captain relished in it, leaning toward the boys.
"You two are the bait to bring your father to me. I hope that I will be able to make this a tolerable experience for you, if not a comfortable one. But in what conditions I keep you is entirely up to you."
He glanced between the brothers, as if expecting Frank and Joe to vow to do whatever it took to ensure they had a nice stay on the boat. But neither boy spoke. Frank kept his lips tightly sealed. Even if his father had never been present in his life, Frank could tell he was a far better man than Captain Attaway. And he would rather die than play a part in a good man's demise. Nor did he want to spend the rest of his life as a pirate, forced into working on Attaway's ships out of fear he would be cursed if he tried to leave.
"If you two were to willingly join my crew, you two being used as hostages and bait will be nothing more than an act. You two will be in no real danger. You'll sleeping in my cabin as my guests, free to move about the ship until we need you to lure your father in. And once your father is dead, I will train you up as my own sons, give you all the riches and splendour a good pirate can expect. I rather hope you'll pick this option. After all, in a way, you two are the cause of all this trouble really. If you had not been born, your father would never have wanted to leave the ship," Attaway announced.
He paused as if expecting the brothers to clamour at the suggestion. Frank and Joe refused to move from where they sat. A scowl flashed across Attaway's face but it was gone in an instant.
"However my life is on the line and I will do what it takes to ensure I survive. If that means I am forced to harm two talented, intelligent young men to ensure Fenton Hardy gets what he deserves, then I will. If you refuse to cooperate, you'll be the unwilling prisoners your father will only believe you to be in the first option. And I cannot guarantee you will live long or happy lives once your father is killed. In fact, I think, once Fenton Hardy lies dead, I would send you to the pirate council so they can have the fun of deciding the fate of what little remains of the Hardy bloodline."
Frank looked toward Joe who awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Would we be allowed to go somewhere private to discuss our options?" Joe asked politely.
The effect on Attaway was immediate.
The captain shut his eyes, letting out a very disappointed sigh. He slouched in his chair and scratched at his wiry beard. When he opened his eyes once more, they were fixed upon the brothers, sharp as a razor.
"That was the wrong answer, Joseph. Because it tells me you two are schemers, just like your father. I can't trust schemers. You always have your own agendas."
He shook his head.
"I really did have such high hopes for you, boys," he said.
Then he clapped his hands, twice. The door was opened and the two brutes who had brought Frank and Joe to the captain entered. They were still holding the ropes with which the brothers had been tied before.
"They have sided with Hardy," Attaway said. "We're rescinding our hospitality. Take them to the brig."