A Pirates Tale

Screams and shouts began to die to groans and weeping the closer the men came to the cellar. As they approached the entrance, they spotted six pirates. Without order, all fourteen men, including his majesty, hacked and slashed at the pirates who stood in their way. With all pirates dead, the soldiers stood before the splintered cellar door; broken chains and brass hinges scattered the grass. William, Jeff, and two other soldiers made their way inside the cellar. The rest stood guard. Jeff retrieved torches and handed one to each man inside.

“Spread out.” William waved a torch about the entrance, illuminating the carnage. The cellar was as long as it was wide, 50 yards by 50 yards, built to withstand bombs, cannons, gunshots, and other outside attacks. But inside ... that was being played before the King's eyes in blood and bone.

It had taken the pirates just over an hour to kill the guarding soldiers, hack down the six-inch-thick mahogany door, and massacre the women and children inside. William began to make the calculations in his head. How many pirates were in Azaria that night? The eighty men that flooded the hall, eight in front of the cellar they killed only moments ago, and twenty dead/dying pirates here. How many more were in towns, at port, in the forest? It must be a fleet. But the captain of the supposed ship Jeff claimed to have seen belonged to Captain George. But George’s crew, ship, and he, were sunk to the bottom of the Dais Ocean.  The Master's Betrayal was a three-masted square rigger with a crew of two hundred or more men. Then, there were the sloops and schooners to consider. From the vastness of the attack, there must be at least three, with a minimum of 75 pirates aboard each, equaling 225. There was a possibility of four hundred pirates or more in Azaria! 'Oh, Heavens!’ William hung his head in his hands. 

The cellar had limited weaponry. A few cutlasses, gunpowder and pistols, spears, bow and arrow, and flint rocks, all of which were used by pirates and women alike in the bloody battle for their lives. Something caught William by the ankle as he stepped farther into the cellar. Whirling about, he looked down to see a woman, beaten and bloody, now clutching to the hem of his coat. Instantly he knelt beside her and held the light close to see her face.

"My dear woman," William breathed and propped her up, cradling her head in his free hand. "It's alright, it's over. You're safe now." Rising to his feet he called for a man standing guard. “Take all but one man and set up medical quarters in the Hall. Call for Marcus, the chief medic, and round up anyone who has survived.” The man nodded and turned to go, but William caught his arm. “Son,” William motioned to the woman propped on a bail of simmering hey, gasping for breath. “Carry her with you.”

‘I don’t understand.’ William thought as he watched the woman being carried away and the soldiers step lightly over fleshy corpses. ‘What did we do to bring this upon ourselves? What have I done?’

Jeff searched the west side of the cellar and came across a woman curled up with her son. The boy was no more than two or three years old. His mother was bleeding heavily from her abdomen, while the boy seemed to be unharmed. Hearing his footsteps approach, the woman addressed Jeff, reaching out a bloody arm to him.

“Please,” she choked. “Save my baby,” tears streaked her face. Crouching down he took the woman’s hand and stroked her fingers.

“It’s alright.” He said, holding her with his eyes. Releasing her hand he scooped the baby up into his arms and held him close. When he looked back down to the woman, she was still as stone looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “I will love him as my own.” He whispered and closed her eyes with a gentle hand. He made his way back to the entrance and handed the boy to one of the guards to be watched while he continued scouting the rest of the cellar. "See to it that the boy is cleaned up, clothed, and fed. I will be back for him soon."

William waved his torch across the bodies. ‘The women may have died, but they did not go easily.’  He thought with sickening pride. He passed a pirate lying on his back, the steel end of a musket plunged into his middle. He was naked, body quivering, eyes darting about, and fingers twitching around the blade. Spotting William the pirate reached out a hand to him. He tried to speak, but before he could manage anything more, he was gone.

“Have you found them?” Jeff’s voice rang in William’s ears. He could not bring himself to look away from the pirate. His head swam, his eye burned with the threat of tears. ‘I have to find Anya and Scarlet.’

“Sire?” Jeff’s voice sounded again. William ignored it and willed himself to move forward. Looking ahead, he saw a wooden crate against the wall and a leg from behind it. His heart raced, his body heavy with grief, he knew that leg. Each step was like trudging through sucking mud. He knew.

“William, wait!” He had to see … he just had to. As he came to the edge of the crate, measuring higher than he stood, he let his torchlight shine on the woman leaning on the damp stone. He crouched down, holding the light steady so it danced over her perfect face. With a shaky hand, he reached out and cupped her cheek. It was ice in his hand, but still soft with youth. Tears poured as he dropped to his knees beside her; letting the torch fall he grabbed her up into his arms and sobbed silently. “My precious pearl. My sweet, sweet, love.” He kissed his tears from her face and stood on trembling knees. Her cold frigid body lay in contrast to his sweat and blood-soaked chest. ‘Scarlet?’ His thoughts raced as he scanned the immediate area but saw no sign of his daughter. Taking a few steps back into the corner he noticed the misplaced stones in the wall. He smiled inwardly at his pearl’s bravery and courage. ‘She got her out. Oh, my, why has this happened?’ He turned for the entrance. Jeff stood in front of him.

“Scarlet?” Jeff asked, not expecting an answer.

“She escaped.” he motioned toward the stones. “The woods.” looking down at Anya he kissed her forehead. “Send twenty men to the castle in half an hour,” he said, addressing Jeff, but keeping his eyes on his Pearl. “Townspeople who have lost family are to bury their dead, those who have not are to assist Surgeon Marcus and his doctors in the Hall as needed. Send out a flank of men to fend off the pirate’s attack for the time being and begin a strategy for getting rid of them once and for all. I will be in the castle in thirty minutes to assist. I have business.”