I think I'm going to make a habit of starting off every new chapter with an apology for my lack of timely updates. But here it is!
Coming Home
Chapter Two: Fight the Good Fight
The first thing Athena noticed when she woke was the dryness of her skin and scales. Groggily, she put a hand to the back of her head. Sticky. Why was her head sticky?
The second thing she noticed as she regained her senses was the sound of anger. She registered that she was tangled in a net on the—what was it called? Oh, of course—the deck of a ship, and that everyone around her was engaged in battle. Even with her limited knowledge of humans, Athena could tell the difference between the two sides. The pirates were garbed in tattered clothes, with wild and matted hair, and grimy faces full of fear for their lives. They brandished curved swords that were immaculately polished; some of them even had guns—something that Athena's mother had told her about but she had never seen for herself. On the opposite side of the fight stood uniformed men with polished boots and combed hair, with faces both clean and determined. Their destructive tools were all identical: each man had one long, thin sword, held at his belt, and a gun which gave off an explosion more frightening, in Athena's oh-so expert opinion, than that of the pirates'. These men, Athena knew, clearly had the advantage over the ill prepared sea rovers.
Yet there was one pirate who refused admit defeat: Captain Crunch. Athena had been alert enough during Crunch's confrontation with the pitiful Rory to remember the whole event. She shuddered to think about what could have happened.
Crunch was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with another fierce-looking sailor. As far as Athena could tell, the two were evenly matched. Clearly, the outcome of their fight would determine which side won.
"Ouch!" Athena turned her attention from the battle toward her own injuries. She found that the liquid she had noticed previously was, indeed, blood. Breathing was becoming more difficult with every passing second, and to top it all off, her tail was completely immobile. Escaping this is going to be impossible, she despaired. Even so, the sea queen began meticulously picking the loose netting from around her body.
"Okay," Athena spoke aloud, testing the functionality of her voice, "Okay, I can do this. Step one, get free of the nets."
In no time at all, Athena's body was detangled. Looking around the deck, she found that no one was paying her any mind—a few pairs of men were still engaged in combat, but most of the pirates had already been tied down and gagged. She wasn't too far from the edge of the ship either: the difficult part, Athena knew, would be hoisting herself over the side with all of her wounds. She didn't even know if she would be able to swim!
"Now, step two," Athena began to drag herself across the deck, inch-by-inch, drawing strength from the thought of her family.
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"Ye found me ship. What took ye so long, eh?" Captain Crunch grinned playfully, tossing his hammer from one hand to the other, "Cap'n Holmes, be it now?"
Holmes frowned, gripping his own sword, "I worked hard to earn my title. What have you done, besides murder and plunder?"
The two seamen walked in a tight circle around the deck, keeping their choice weapons held at the ready. They took notice of nothing and no one else around them—the only thing that mattered was this confrontation.
"That be t' beauty o' it, Cap'n! I do anythin' me blackened heart desires," Crunch declared, "An' today, it be yer head that I want."
"Come now, Henry. Aren't you being a little violent for the mascot of a children's breakfast dish?" Holmes teased, keeping his eyes pinned on the volatile man.
"Me name is not Henry, ye hog's head!" Crunch stamped his foot discontentedly, "An' let's not be speaking of th' past, eh?"
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Pulling herself across a solid wooden floor proved to be most difficult for Queen Athena, who was not accustomed to crawling of any sort. The lack of mobility in her tail also put a damper on her entire escape operation.
It's too bad that the Rory fellow was wrong about my being a siren, she thought, I could use that to my advantage.
Although her escape route put all of the men at her back, Athena could still hear the sounds of angry pirates being tied to posts and spitting insults at the uniformed men through their neglected, grimy teeth; she could hear the taunts of the sailors ("Oh, shut up, you beslobbering clay-brained boot-licker!"); and, most frighteningly, Athena's ears could detect the sound of the clang of Crunch's hammer against his worthy foe's blade.
Knowing a little of Captain Crunch's temperament, Athena vowed to get out quickly. On the off chance that the tides turned and the pirates won, she wanted to be as far away from the ship as possible; preferably in the safety of her underwater kingdom.
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There was no one in the entire world that Henry, more commonly known as Captain Crunch, feared more than Samuel Calvin Holmes III. But of course, nothing could convince him to admit it. Even though the sight of the man's ship had sent shivers down his spine, causing him to nearly collapse at the feet of the lookout—which he blamed on the cabin boy for leaving a puddle of water on the deck—Crunch held firm to the belief that this was his chance to finally conquer his oldest foe.
That hope was fading faster than Crunch's own stamina in the midst of the great battle.
With each swing of his hammer, he felt a little piece of himself float away. His arms moved a little slower and his grimace grew a little less menacing as a sense of defeat engulfed his beaten brain. Sweat beaded at his brow. The sounds of combat faded from his ears. Another battle lost. Today was not his day.
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Today was not her day. She was taken from everything she loved, injured beyond words, thrown into a bloody battlefield, and now—well, now every hope for escape had been crushed like a ravenous shark's unlucky meal.
When Crunch had hit the ground—an event that Athena felt in the atmosphere of the ship rather than saw with her own eyes—he took over everything.
"Alright, boys," he barked, "Let's move everything over to our ship!"
Suddenly, men were paying attention to her, the once-forgotten catch-of-the-day. During the fight, the sailors were unable to pause and gawk at the mermaid, the likes of which were rarely seen by human eyes. But after all of the pirates were taken care of, they came and put a stop to her poorly executed getaway. They, like the sea-roving bandits, were excited about the prospect of receiving fame and fortune for their discovery.
Lying on her stomach, head tilted to the left, Athena could see the wooden wall that separated her from the air above her ocean.
"So close," she whispered. Athena finally let loose the soft tears that had been threatening to spill over since the beginning of this truly horrible experience.
Amidst the whispering sailors, Athena heard a distinct click-clack against the floorboards.
"You, mermaid," a voice bellowed commandingly, "What is your name?"
No one had spoken directly to Athena since she entered the human world hours before. She was hesitant to respond, although she recognized his voice as the one who had been issuing commands since the battle's conclusion. Peeling her eyes open, she found herself staring at a pair of blood-spattered—but otherwise shining—black boots.
The man kneeled down so that his face was in her line of vision. Athena took note of the deep creases in his forehead that suggested both age and the frustrations he encountered in his line of work.
"You will call me Captain Holmes," the Captain said.
Holmes had a certain way about him, one that made a person wish to follow his orders. Athena, although frightened by the man's imposing nature, very nearly told the Captain exactly what he wanted to know about her.
Unaware of the queen's inner turmoil, and upon receiving no more than a fearful stare from her, Holmes straightened his back. Looking over her body in much the same way as the pirate captain had, he gestured to an eager sailor standing near Athena's tail, "Geoffrey!"
"Yes, sir!" Geoffrey slid forward, ready to receive instructions.
"Dress the creature's wounds. She will need to be healed by the time we reach port," Captain Holmes gave no further directions to Geoffrey, instead turning to address the remainder of his crew, "Everyone else, assist the first mate in taking our prisoners to their new quarters."
The men set themselves to work, roughly lifting the pirates to their feet by the hems of their tattered garments. Samuel Holmes intended to close himself in his quarters, but paused when he felt a hot stare on his back. His muscles tensed instinctively. He didn't need his eyes to confirm what his mind already knew—that Henry Holmes was scowling hatefully from his tied and gagged position on the hard wooden floor.
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"So," Geoffrey twiddled his thumbs, "Where does it hurt?"
But Athena didn't care about her injuries. She barely even felt them. She could focus only on one simple thought: home. With hopes faded and faith lost, Athena succumbed to a restless sleep, leaving the unwitting sailor to guess at how to care for the wounded queen.
It feels really strange to end the chapter here, but I figured I should probably just post it already.
