The Pirates' Cooper

This story isn't completed but here is what I have.

As I sit and pen this account I must beg the readers indulgence if I give short preface. The events that I am about to recount took place many years ago now, when I was a far younger man and I have taken the liberty to do some editing of the text. I hope that the reader will sympathize with me since I did it indeed for the sake of the reader. The language and actions of the men that I was around was such that should I publish a loyal account of it my book would rightly be burned on the street corners. Even was this not the case I should not choose to poison the eyes of my readers with the crude ways of the people I was associating with.

I couldn’t look my former crewmates in the eye as I crossed over to join the pirate crew. Of course all of them knew that I had been forced, but I still felt like a traitor. I had bad luck, that was what it was. I had bad luck to be on a ship that got captured by pirates and I had bad luck to be a single young man with skills that the pirate crew wanted. My choice had been simple, either join their crew, or die. I didn’t want to die, that was one of the reasons I didn’t want to be a pirate. Pirates come to nasty ends far too often for my liking. Still it was better to join the crew and then try to escape then to be shot right then and there.

I was the only man out of our crew to be pressed. A few others joined willingly but I wanted nothing to do with them. They were the sort who wanted a short a jolly life; I wanted a long boring one. When you want excitement you don’t become cooper, which is what I am. Either that or they thought that they would never be caught, which as far as I am concerned meant that they were stupid.

My first few days on the pirate ship were pure misery; the pirates were unkind to me since I was new and clearly already unhappy. I couldn’t get used to the way that they lived. One night everyone got horribly drunk, something that happened every night, and started singing songs in religious songs in French out of a song book they had stolen from some ship. Another day they decided to throw knives at one another and any man who flinched was labeled a coward. The more I grew to know them the more disgusted I grew with their company. The more disgusted I grew with them the more they mocked me for holding myself above them. Even the captain would join in their fun; indeed I believe he was the most rough and crude of them all.

There was a man who I grew to like some for all that I disliked the rest, he seemed more noble then the others, though he joined most of their rough fun. One night he sat beside me, mug in hand, while around us the others partied and joked.

“You’re not going to last long,” he told me. “To show them scorn and refuse their company is only to shorten your own life. At least pretend to join in, it will help and you will be less likely to be shot in sport.”

“I don’t think I could bring myself to join them. I am not here of my own free will after all.” The man laughed humorlessly.

“And you think that I am? I must thank you for the compliment. However I joined no more willingly then you did and have no wish to be a pirate. Still we will be hung just the same if we are caught. It makes no difference to the law that we were forced.” I had to admit that there was justice in what he said and when he offered me a mug of punch I accepted.

I won’t say that I grew to enjoy the life, but I grew used to it somewhat. I was no longer actively miserable anyway. The man that I spoke to that night I found to be named Alexander, and we soon became friends. He was popular with the crew and I, by being friends with him, while not becoming popular became at least tolerated. I was no longer the butt of all the jokes, but that didn’t mean I was accepted as a full member of the crew. Indeed I had no wish to be.

It was my job on the ship to check the casks of provisions, most of them stolen from other ships. It was the same job I had held on every other ship I had ever worked on and it wasn’t very hard work so I found much time on my hands. Much of this time I must say was spent in plotting to get away from the ship that I was on. I came up with a lot of crazy ideas that would have resulted in my death but I was smart enough not to carry through on any of them. I wanted to survive this and go on with my life on a legitimate ship, or maybe even on land. Coopers on land didn’t get as much money and there wasn’t as much of a demand for services but as this trip was proving it was safer to be on land.

The captain of the ship was named Edwards and he wasn’t a popular man. Pirate crews only desire plunder and a captain who doesn’t provide loot will soon grow to be disliked. Like the uncivilized people they are they do not chose a leader in a respectable fashion but rather elect him by popular opinion. In just such a way do they reserve the right to remove him from power should he displease. We hadn’t captured a single ship since the one that I had sailed on, which was a relief to me, but the crew began to get restless.

Edwards must have noticed the faith the crew had in him was dwindling. He had to do something or he would lose the privileges he enjoyed as captain. A diversion was decided upon. We would land on an island, inhabited by natives who cared not whether their visitors were pirates or the navy. The prospect of seeing land again livened the crew instantly, and I myself was overjoyed. To be on land was one important step closer to freedom then I had been in a long time. On land it was easier to slip away and find a place to hide until they would give up on me and leave without me. On islands such as the one they were speaking of landing on there would be no hardship in living until another, more respectable ship, would dock and I could be rescued.

When we landed on the island my plans for escape were postponed by the careening of the ship. I would have been missed instantly during that tedious task since I was forced to play carpenters mate, they having no better person to play the role. As soon as the careening was finished however they fell to celebrating with some of the local girls and grew so staggering drunk that I had no difficulty at all in slipping away. I wanted to say goodbye to Alexander but I knew that he would try to prevent me from leaving and might even feel compelled to raise alarm.

I had never been on a tropical island before, in the past I had only sailed ships that kept to the north. Everything was strange to me and as I ran from the pirate camp I grew more and more lost in my unfamiliar surroundings. It was night and there were strange sounds and sights that gave everything a nightmare like quality. By daylight even if I had wanted to return to the pirates I would have had no way to have done so. I was truly lost in a place like no other I have seen before or since, the deepest jungle.

It is a wonder that I survived to tell this story, I have heard since of people getting lost in the jungle and never being seen again. I thank providence every day for allowing me to live through the experience. I was determined not to shoot my gun, though I had one, because I was worried that it would give away where I was to the pirates. Instead I lived off of plants, trusting to luck and God to tell me which ones were edible and which weren’t. I fished a little when I went near water, and caught some fish that way. In other words I was always in danger of poisoning myself. Indeed I finally did, eating some plant; I don’t remember even what it looked like now, that I should not have. I thought I was going to die and it was only after great pain that I was able to move around again. I was still very weak but hunger drove me to go about and search for food. I couldn’t bring myself to try eating any plants again after my last experience, and came to the decision that it ought to be safe to use my gun. I had no way of telling how long it had been that I had been gone from the pirate camp but I could only assume that they had already left.

I was wrong, only an hour after I brought a bird with my gun the pirates descended on where I was in force. I was bound and gagged and they even set up a mock court to condemn me. I had no doubt what my fate was and was surprised that they didn’t shoot me on sight. It was only a postponement I was sure however. The only luck that I had was that I was resigned to my impending doom and therefore showed no fear when being led into the court they had made out of a clearing in the woods. The pirates took it as bravery which raised me in their esteem some, for there is nothing that they hold worse then cowardice. It is a crime that they frequently feel deserves a death penalty.

The judge that was presiding over the whole affair had perched himself in a tree above all of us and I was placed in front of him and tied to a tree so I couldn’t run away. The judge had been made a robe, out of some sail cloth, and the whole thing seemed very much a joke for everyone, except me of course. The gag was removed from my mouth and I was asked how I pleaded to the charge of deserting the crew. I was about to answer guilty and have done with it when Alexander stepped from the crowd.

“If we are going to do this like a trial,” he said, “we ought to do it right. The defendant must have a lawyer to defend him, I offer my services.” The others howled with laughter and another stepped from the crowd.

“Well in that case I will be the prosecutor, first time I’ve ever been on the right side of the law,” he joked. This brought another laugh and finally proceedings were allowed to continue. Alexander wouldn’t allow me to speak however; as I said he had grown friendly with me and wasn’t willing to allow me to throw my life away, which is what I had been prepared to do.

“Your honor,” he said in half jest to the man sitting in the tree. “You will not deny that all of us were drunk on the night that Mark disappeared, presumed deserted. Nothing could be farther then the truth however. We were all drunk, he simply wandered from camp while drunk and then couldn’t find his way back. There is no crime in that. He has never been in this part of the world before and it was dark, it was easy for him to get lost in the condition he was in.”

“Your honor,” said the persecuting lawyer, mimicking my self proclaimed lawyer’s behavior. “He seems mighty sure of his story, but he hasn’t even talked to Mark. He’s making it all up for sure.”

“That was only on example of what might have happened. I didn’t mean to say that it is what happened,” Alexander declared firmly. “I was merely stating that you are too quick to assume that he is at fault. So you sit around and you wait for the slaughter, I say let him have his say first.” To my surprise the men around the clearing cheering and looking like they agreed with Alexander. I had thought that I was lost but new hope sprang in my breast. It was as if Alexander was offering me life with every word he spoke.

“Let Mark say what he was doing,” the crowed shouted. I had the chance yet again to witness what I had observed before. Pirate crews were fickle, inconsistent, and easily influenced. Alexander gave me a strange look and then nodded to me.

“Go on and tell them what it was you were doing. You weren’t trying to escape from the crew were you?” he asked.

“I wasn’t trying to escape. Nor I must say, was I overly drunk that night, it is well known that I don’t drink in large amounts. I was only slightly under when I thought I heard a noise in the woods and I went to look,” I said thinking fast. If my story held then I would live and I suddenly found to my surprise that though I thought I was resigned to my death I really wanted to survive this ordeal. That meant that I had to come up with a story that was different from the one Alexander had thought up at first but still made me innocent enough that I wouldn’t be shot. “It would be of less of an embarrassment had I been drunk since I did indeed get lost as soon as I left the sight of the fire light. I wandered for a long time but to no avail.”

“Is this true?” asked the man who was the mock judge.

“I have said nothing but the truth,” I assured him and I could see the audience swayed by my earnest lies. Even the man who was pretending to be prosecutor looked as if he half believed in my innocence. Then unfortunately the captain stepped forward. I had rarely seen Edwards sober and so I had never realized that he was truly a smart man, but he quickly showed that he was.

“I wonder that you didn’t shoot your gun before you did, we would have found you then,” he said. He glared at me and my confidence was destroyed. He knew that I was lying and there was no way to escape. That isn’t to say that I did not try.

“I did not think you would rescue me if I shot the gun, I am not one of the popular members of this crew and didn’t think to shoot before. Even when I did I did it on a chance rather then in faith that I would rescued,” I said. Even as I said it I knew I wasn’t making much sense. My lost confidence had also lost me my eloquence.

“It must have been difficult to get food without shooting, unless of course you were hiding from something,” I knew that I was trapped and the men around had started to demand my demise again. I wanted nothing more now then to get it over with and hope that they didn’t torture me. I had heard stories before about what pirates could do when they were angry with someone.

“I tell you that Mark didn’t run away, nor did he have any intention of doing so. He has told you what it was that he was doing while he was missing.”

“Yeah and we don’t believe you or him, shoot him,” shouted one man in the audience.

“I don’t think we can win,” I told Alexander. I expected him to abandon me and allow them to do what ever they liked to me. He was going to go down with me if he continued to side with me. If I had learned anything in my short time on the ship it was that reputation and public opinion of one was very important on board. Alexander surprised me again however. This time he took out a pistol from his belt. I will say that first thought was that he had decided to head the advice of the crowd and shoot me where I was bound to the tree. I only gave him the kindest thoughts however, thinking he either had decided, reasonably that I wasn’t worth risking his life for, or that he had decided it was better to kill me quickly himself. The pistol wasn’t pointed at me however.

“I have tried to be reasonable about this,” Alexander told the audience with the pistol pointed at them. “The first man who goes for his gun to shoot Mark will be shot himself. Does anyone want to try it?”

The men around us fell silent for a short time and then slowly they backed down. I have no doubt that Alexander meant what he said. Rather then have an actual confrontation everyone just sort of disappeared. Alexander was popular enough that no one desired to shoot him nor did they seem to want to kill me enough to cause a fight with him. That left him to unbind me. We didn’t say anything to one another, though I suppose that I ought to have thanked the savior of my life. I returned to the ship without a comment since I knew that it would have caused him difficulties had I not and I consider that thanks enough.

That incident took away the crews’ task for island sport. Nothing more was said of it but we sailed shortly afterwards. Alexander was just as popular as ever with the crew but I might as well have not existed for all the attention they gave me and I was thankful of it. I did my work on the casks and they made no comment. Alexander even kept away from me, most likely frightened of what would come of him if he showed himself friendly with me.

We continued to not capture any ships, though we sailed long and far. Our ship was plagued by bad luck and even I began to wish that we would meet with another ship as we had been put on rations for the first time since I had been with the crew. No longer were we able to eat as much as we liked, and water had grown very dirty and scarce. I dreaded what I might be forced to do should we meet another ship, I could not afford to anger the crew any further, but I would be thankful for the food.

As things grew worse day by day the crew again grew angry and restless. Finally one day they gathered on deck, with Alexander at their head, and demanded that the captain step down from his position. This he was forced to do, as I have stated before captains are subject to popular opinion in the most disgusting way. Then it came up to who would replace Edwards.

To be continued...

Snake Eyes

When Ella was small she never thought about how strange her life was. It was all that she had ever known and even as she grew older and saw how different everyone else lived it didn’t make her want to copy them. She wasn’t unhappy with the way that she lived, even if it was different.

Ella lived with the old woman, she had no idea what the woman’s name was. The woman never spoke to her, nor held her but Ella could only assume the woman took care of her when she was a baby because she had survived and there was no one else. There was never any affection in the old woman’s face, but nor was there dislike and she fed Ella and made sure that she had clothing which Ella took to be a sign of some sort of caring.

Of course since the old woman never spoke Ella hadn’t needed a name until she had gotten old enough to wander on her own, and then she had simply chosen a random name she had decided that she liked. If she remembered right she had heard a man calling a little girl about her age Ella and had decided that that was what she was going to be named.

Ella and the old woman lived in an old alley that was no longer in use by anyone, forgotten and covered by the growth of the city. There behind a dumpster that no one had used in ten years there was a nest of blankets. The old woman never left that nest and it would seem that she was always cold because she wore multiple mismatched layers, even in the heat of the summer.

Even though the old woman never left her nest she always seemed to have food and clothing for both of them. The quality would vary however. Some days she would have fresh bread, juice, wine, fruit as good as if it had just been picked, some days she would have nothing but a moldy crust and water. The same went for the clothing she would provide when they needed it, sometimes Ella could dress in the latest fashions, and sometimes she was dressed in little better then rags. Of course as Ella grew older she started to provide partly for herself, with what she could find. She never begged or stole because she was always afraid that would attract the officials to her and she would be sent to live at a shelter or a home, but she would pick up what other people dropped or threw away. The old woman would never wear what Ella would bring back, nor eat what Ella could find, but she never seemed to mind if Ella provided for herself.

The only item of any real note on the old woman was a pair of earrings that she never took off. They looked like a pair of dice and Ella had learned how to count by looking at them when she was little. As she grew older she noticed that the dice didn’t always show the same numbers. She got in the habit of telling the old woman what number was showing. Sometimes the old woman smiled, sometimes she frowned, and sometimes she looked annoyed with Ella for bothering her.

One morning, when Ella was about sixteen, she looked over to see what the woman’s earrings were showing and then looked again. Two ones were showing, one on each earring, it had never happened before. She reached over and flicked one of the earrings and the old woman frowned at her. Ella didn’t pay her any attention though. The earring Ella had flicked spun for a short time, and then returned to the number one.

“You have two ones on your earrings,” Ella told the old woman. The woman looked at her for a moment, and then nodded. She didn’t look happy, or sad, or annoyed, she simply nodded as if something had been decided. Ella shrugged, she didn’t care for mysteries and she wasn’t going to waste her energy trying to solve this one. Especially since the old woman never told her anything.

Ella went out as usual that day, and had unusually good luck finding food. A little family owned grocery had been sorting through its inventory and had thrown an unusually large amount of only slightly expired food into its dumpster. Ella was in high spirits, and had forgotten all about the earrings, when she returned to their nest behind the dumpster. She was soon reminded however. The old woman was gone and the only thing that remained in the nest of blankets was the earrings, still showing the two ones.

Ella cried, wrapped in the blankets. She couldn’t have said why she cried, since she had never felt overly close to the woman. But the woman had always been there and now she was gone. There was never any doubt in Ella’s mind that the old woman was dead, even though there was no sign of the body. Ella had seen rats crawl out of their holes to die and, never having seen a human die, she could only assume that they did the same. Ella clasped the earrings in her hand until they dug into the skin, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t crying for the woman, she was crying for herself who for the first time ever was truly alone.

It wasn’t until Ella had cried herself into exhaustion that she realized she hadn’t been the only one crying. Nearby there was the sound of a new born baby crying, in a place where no one went other then herself and the old woman there was the sound of a new life. Ella pulled herself out of the nest and trying to see through puffy red eyes, she followed the sound.

The baby was lying on the doorstep of an abandoned building. There was a bottle next to it, and it was dressed as if it had been dropped there on its way home from the hospital. Ella bent down and picked it up gently. From the pink cap on its head she assumed it was a girl. As she bent down to pick up the baby she let the earrings slip from her hand and she left them lay there as she walked away softly crooning. They showed a four and a three.

Hostler Tim

The character Tim always bothered me from the Highwayman, so sorry to mess with a classic poem but I had to flesh out the character.

I know what people say about what happened at the old inn, that Tim the hostler betrayed Will and Bess to the solders. I haven’t talked about it to anyone for many a year, but I think it might be time to clear the air. When even all the way out here, so far from the old inn, I still hear people saying such things it might be time to say something. But I’m only going to tell the story once, it isn’t a nice story and I don’t feel like thinking about it more then I have to.

It is true what they say, I did love Bess the inn keepers daughter. I also knew with stone cold certainty that she would never love me back. Even when I was younger I wasn’t a handsome man by any means. I knew that then and I know it now. Even if Bess hadn’t been in love with the highwayman Will she wouldn’t have given me a second glance. So in spite of the rumors I wasn’t jealous of the couple. Actually I supported them fully. They were my couple, I know it might sound pathetic but sometimes I even imagined that I was Will. I had no reason to want him dead; I wouldn’t kill a man who I sometimes projected myself onto. He was everything I am not, brave, dashing, handsome, glorious.

It is true, I was watching them that last night, when they said goodbye to each other for that last time. They were a beautiful couple, perfectly suited to one another in a way that Bess and I would never have matched one another. They had this tune that he would whistle and she would throw her window open, it didn’t matter how late it was. I used to day dream that I whistled the same tune and she showed me the same welcome. That night it happened the same as always. He whistled and she threw open the shutters. I listened as they whispered sweet nothings and then he told her that he had a job to do.

Bess watched Will as he walked away, for a minute maybe I did feel just the slightest twinge of jealousy. He had everything I wished I could have had. I shook the feeling off however. Bess stood framed in the window for a short time, looking after the highwayman and then closed the shutters again. I also went to my bed in the stable and dreamt the deep sleep of the guiltless.

The next morning I woke to find Bess already up before me. I would wake before dawn to care for the horses and do my chores but Bess was at her window long before that. She never said a word but she was looking towards the west and I knew who she looked for. She never wavered in her vigil, nor moved from her post, though the day waned and still she stood.

It was almost dusk when troop of solders came marching up from the west. No one notices me so I was able to slip in behind the solders and watch as they ordered ale. The innkeeper looked at them nervously but they didn’t tell him why they had come and he didn’t have the nerve to ask. After they had drunk their ales they walked out of the main room as a group and without asking for directions made their way to Bess’s room and closed the door. The innkeeper seemed to have decided he wanted nothing to do with any of this, though it was his daughter who was in danger. I couldn’t follow them into the room but I cared enough that I went and stood under her window where I could hear all that went on.

First they tied her to the foot of her bed, standing up, but they couldn’t make her stand still even so. Finally in frustration they used the muskets of one of the men to make her stand straight. They tied her to the musket and so she was forced to stand ramrod straight with a gun pointed at her chest. It was cruelty upon cruelty and I could hardly stand to listen to it except that it would have done me no good to try a rescue. I would have been shot down in all likelihood and no good would have come of it. That’s what I told myself at the time. A coward’s excuse I will admit, but the point is I did nothing as they said the most disgusting things about her and kissed those lips that I had never dared to kiss. Still she said nothing and I dared to peek up to make sure she was still alive. She simply stood there, tied to her bed as she was a looked to the west where Will had gone.

Since I could do nothing, I too started to watch towards the west, enjoying the slight connection it made me feel with Bess. I sat under her window, with the solders right above me, their guns cocked and Bess tied to her bed, and we all waited for the same man to come.

It wasn’t until well past midnight, with all of my duties forsaken all the day, that the sound of hoof beats on the road were heard. I could hear them approach and there was no doubt in my mind who it was who came. I could also hear Bess draw a sharp breath, and the soldiers cock their guns, now all was in readiness. No matter what I could have done, it wouldn’t have changed the scene. I wasn’t a player in the drama anymore then the rat in the barn was.

Then the gun went off. It sounded like one of the soldiers’ guns but from the sounds they made it wasn’t one of theirs. Not fired by them anyway. I turned and saw Will wheel his horse and dash away, to safety, clearly unharmed. I could hear what was going on over my head, so what confusion I had was soon dispelled.

“The little whore shot herself,” exclaimed one voice. I held my breath.

“Well how did she shoot herself?” asked another voice.

“The gun we used to tie her to. She must have got her hands ‘round to the trigger and fired it. With it tied right under her chest, the bullet went to her heart. God but she’s a bloody mess.”

“There’s all our work for nothing, not unless the gun shot doesn’t frighten him away forever. We’ll stay around for a couple of days and see if she comes back around. If not we’ll have to give up,” said the voice of the man I knew to be the officer.

I felt cold; it was Bess who they were talking about in such a casual manner. There was nothing I could do about it of course. I was only one man and I didn’t have so much as a knife while they had guns. I know that I cried, through that long night, I don’t think I moved even once from my post under that window, though I know that the solders took shifts to sleep. They gave Bess’s body to her father as casually as you could ever imagine. They made me sick. It wasn’t until near dawn that I cam to my final conclusion on what to do.

Now I will say that I weigh the death of Will on my shoulders, unintentional though it was. I meant to save his life, instead he died. Bess had died to warn off Will from coming. Come again he would, for he couldn’t be kept apart from Bess. The solders would stay until they grew tired of waiting and he had to be kept away until then or Bess’s final wishes would be disrespected. It was my duty to tell Will what had happened and get him away from that place.

I knew where it was that Will hid, a house way out in the woods where they would never find him. I knew where it was since I had heard him tell Bess about it one night. My grieving gave me boldness I would never have possessed otherwise. I stole away on the officer’s horse and reached the woods where Will kept himself a little before noon. I led the horse into a thicket where it wouldn’t be discovered and found my way to the house where Will lived.

When I looked through the window and saw Will sleeping peacefully on his bed I was filled with pity. He had no idea what had happened, his peace would soon be shattered, probably forever. Still it was a task I had charged myself with. I went around and knocked on the door. I expected him to take a couple of minutes to answer the door since he had been asleep, but he was at the door in an instant with his sword in his hand. He looked shocked when he realized who it was.

“You’re the hostler from the old inn aren’t you?” he demanded. “What do you want? Did Bess send you?”

“After a fashion,” I answered, now that I had started on this errand I was starting to realize just how difficult it was. “You heard the gunshot last night?” I asked. I decided that coming around to it in a round about fashion was the easiest.

“Yes, was I discovered by the solders? I thought I might have been, since one of the drivers of the coach last night recognized me, even with the mask over my face. He had stopped at the inn before and happened to have seen me speaking to Bess. Is Bess alright? They didn’t hurt her did they?”

“Well they tied her up and they kissed her,” I said. I was still not able to come out with it all. “There was nothing I could do to stop them.”

“So what happened to her, where is she now? I have to go see her,” he had started to go frantic.

“She’s dead,” I finally said. “That was that gunshot; she shot herself, since it was the only way to warn you that the solders were there. They had tied her and gagged her so she couldn’t shout or anything, but they had tied her to a gun.” I almost sobbed again to tell of it and I had expected Will to collapse with sorrow. Instead his eyes grew like those of a demon.

He spoke not one word to me, he simply shoved by me. He still had his sword in hand as he started to mount the horse that I had ridden. I had no doubt to his purpose, his face, and still drawn sword told me everything I wanted to know. I tried to hold him back but I am a weaker man, for all that I spend my days working in a barn, and he was fueled by rage. He threw me off as if I was a leaf.

“You are wasting her death, going to get yourself killed by the solders. You have a sword, they have guns. You’ll die. Get away from here, far from here, and never come back,” I shouted at him. I don’t think he even heard me. If he did he showed no sign of it.

I thought of chasing after him but there was no point. He was so set in his purpose that he would have gone even had hell bared the way. What drove him now was nothing that I could stop. I knew that he went to die and having had Bess die right above me I had no wish to witness his death as well. Especially since I would probably have been named an accomplice and shot as well.

Will had taken the horse I had ridden on, but there was still his horse behind the house. He wouldn’t be coming back to miss it I knew. I saddled it and turned its head to the west, with no idea where I would go. All that I knew was that I wanted to get as far away from the old inn as I could. It had become a place only of tragedy as far as I was concerned.

I drifted until I came here and got a job working in these stables, it’s a long way from the old inn, but I still hear the story told. I also still hear people blame me for everything. Maybe it’s because I ran away like I did. I don’t think I could have faced the bodies of Bess and Will though. Bess because I hadn’t been able to carry out her final wishes and Will because had I been half the man he was I would have joined in death.

The rumors say that their ghosts still meet like they always did in the past. He will whistle a tune and she will open the shutters just like the old days. I like to think that it’s true. Some days I think I would like to go there and see for myself, look on their meetings just like I did in the old days. I don’t think I could meet their ghosts any more then I could meet their bodies however. I will never go near the old inn again. That’s the only decision I can come to.

There you have it. I know I am a pathetic, cowardly man, but at least I never was a traitor. I did all I thought that I could and I never would have done anything to harm Bess. I do wish that I had been able to stop Will though.

Cursed Ring II

Sorry, I know it's only half a page, and I did write the start of a new one. However I will be going on vacation starting tomorrow for a month in a place where I won't have regular internet. I will post as often as I can, and I will still write a page a day, but I don't want to start a new story on here right before leaving.

It was on such a day, when the Captain had remained on deck far after dark, that the sky began to roll with thunder. The Great Lakes were showing their infamous fast moving storms, as dangerous as any to be found on the ocean. The crew was running around the deck trying to fasten everything down and get the sail up, but their Captain was transfixed. Standing beside him, against the wind and lightening, stood William Scot. Again the man was laughing.

Captain Johnson and his crew were never seen again, nor was the ship. A trapper six month later found an oar from a ship’s boat on the shore of Lake Huron. One on side it had the ships name carved into it like normal. On the other side however was a name. William Scot. It was etched out in blood, though the trapper or anyone he showed it to could explain how it was the blood hadn’t been washed away by the water. There had been no tarp to protect it and it had been exposed to the elements through the summer storms, not to mention being washed to shore to begin with.

Then there was the matter of the ring, which had been chained to the oar, for what reason no one could tell. No matter how they tried to pull it off of the oar, or saw at the chain it wouldn’t come off. There was something unnatural about it, and soon people grew frightened. It was finally buried in the church yard, in the grave that had been dug for the lost bodies of Captain Johnson. It was never considered if it was a welcome gesture, but sometimes people said they heard a horrible laugh coming from the church yard.

Cursed Ring

The field after war was a gruesome sight. Had the Honorable Captain Johnson been a more squeamish man he probably would never have set foot on it. The battle was long over however, and the armies had moved on. Most of the bodies had been buried, but not all of them. Most of them had also been looted already, but Captain Johnson figured that there was always the off chance of a small amount of loot at least.

This civil war was so stupid, people killing each other when they could be making a profit off of both sides, the valiant captain thought. He had long since discovered all of the profit that could be made off of other people’s misfortune. Looting battlefields was only one example of this. Something to do while his ship was in winter dock on Lake Huron.

The field had been picked over so many times he was almost in despair of finding anything until he saw a single body laying under a bush. He wouldn’t have spotted it at all if the boots hadn’t been sticking from under the shrubbery. The body was in horrible condition but that didn’t stop Captain Johnson. He was used to such things by now. Perhaps if he was a new hand at this business he might have been scared away, but now all he had eyes for was the ring that the man had most likely worn on his finger. It wasn’t on his finger any longer however, which was something to be thankful for. Cutting fingers off for the rings was a messy business best avoided when the opportunity presented itself. Instead the man had died clutching the ring in his hand; it looked as if it had been touching his lips. Maybe a final thought for some loved one. Well he was no longer in a place to prevent the ring from being stolen away.

Captain Johnson didn’t sell the ring as he had intended. Jewelry wasn’t selling as well any longer, not now that so much of it was on the market. Not only from the pillagers of battle fields such as himself but also from poor women trying to support families now that their men were either gone to battle or dead. He had taken a liking to the ring anyway. It was proudly displayed on his finger when he again took command of his ship for the first voyage of the season. There was a lot of trade to be done on the Great Lakes with so many ships being taken by the armies. Being one of the first ships to leave dock after the winter equaled a definite increase in profits.

A week after they left dock Captain Johnson was sitting in his cabin, figuring his accounts when he heard a rap on his door. He got up and opened it, a figure stood there, obscured by the dark and lightless night.

“Well come in and state your business,” Captain Johnson snapped. The figure obeyed. A corpse of a figure, in a union solder’s coat, with a face that Captain Johnson had last seen in sure death, and it advanced. Captain Johnson backed away quickly, his thumb passing over the ring subconsciously.

“What are you doing here? Leave here ghost, you have no business here.”

“You invited me in,” said the thing. He might have chuckled but it was far more like a death rattle and made Captain Johnson turn white with fear. “You have something of mine.” Captain Johnson tried to pull the ring off of his finger but it was stuck fast, no matter how he pulled at it there was no way to get it off. Again the thing laughed.

“You don’t get away from William Scot so easily.”

The next few days Captain Johnson shocked his crew by spending more time on deck then he ever had. The decks were cold and frozen but for some reason the captain looked far paler when he entered his cabin out of the cold.

To be continued...

The Palladium IV

I wrote this yesterday, again I just didn't have time to type it up until today.

“Betrayal,” I shouted, thinking quickly. If Odysseus and I were going to fight then there had to be witnesses. If not and I was struck down then Odysseus would be able to say that I had been the traitor and be hailed as an even greater hero. If I struck him down then I would have to explain to the army why, and they might not believe me. Just as I wished, my shout brought an audience, and even more, to Odysseus’s obvious frustration.

We wheeled on the sand, our weapons matching the others. Both of us were skilled after all of these years, as to be expected. Athena wasn’t known to befriend the weak or stupid. Odysseus used tricks to his fighting. He feinted and jabbed without doing any straight forward attacks. In that way we were exact opposites. I am a straightforward sort, when attacking I don’t use any trickery. To be honest even I had no idea how this match would end. The troops that surrounded us cheered and mocked as they wished but I don’t think either of us really noticed. I know I didn’t even recognize words, only tones.

Finally I was able to overpower Odysseus through pure strength and stamina. His sword was knocked from his grasp and I didn’t even look to see where it had gone. I instantly brought the flat of my blade around so that it hit his sword arm hard enough that I could feel the jolt in my own arm. There was no way that he would be able to hold his sword for a long time with that arm. I had to hold myself back. There was nothing that I would rather have done then run the traitor through. I couldn’t however. That would make me the villain of this, as bad as he was. I satisfied myself with hitting him several more times with the flat of my sword before he was able to run away.

“What happened?” demanded Agamemnon, coming forward out of the crowd. “I don’t like it when I see two of my best warriors trying to kill each other.” I looked around, and decided that publicly humiliating Odysseus wasn’t the thing to do after beating him in front of everyone already.

“Come to my tent in the morning and we will talk about it,” I assured the king. Before he could insist on an explanation in front of the crowd I left. He might talk to Odysseus before he talked to me of course; I was giving him that chance. I thought I would be able to talk him around to my side however. The evidence was in my favor. I had been the one to shout, and I hadn’t killed him.

I was feeling generous about not killing him. I was in the right this time, and it was a good feeling. No one would have complained if in that position I had slain Odysseus. I would have been considered in the right. I had restrained myself however. I had done what was better for everyone rather then my own pride. Too many heroes had already fallen, to lose another one would not only destroy our chances of winning, it would also destroy the troops unity. They still mourned the death of Ajax, even though his death had been self inflicted.

I had no love for Odysseus; I hoped horrible things happened to him in the near future. For once though, I was glad he was alive. He just had to remain in good health until the end of the war, and then I was sure he would get himself into trouble with his arrogance and greed. Not everyone was going to be as kind as I was.

The Palladium III

“Every time battle is engaged I watch from the walls,” Helen told us. “You both do very well and your names are respected even in these walls. I ought to know, I usually stand with Priam, and he likes to know about the enemy fighters who do well on the field, you are both spoken off a lot. He also doesn’t get annoyed with me when I tell him how I really wish I had never left my home and husband. He speaks of his own sons as fools.” I shook my head, it was true that Priam’s sons were not worth looking at any longer, but when the father despaired in his heirs then things were really in bad condition. Paris had been an improvement over those that still lived, and the only thing that Paris had ever gained was through the lowest of deception. He had been even worse then Odysseus, thinking that it didn’t matter how he achieved it, it would gain him honor so long as he killed Achilles.

“You should stay here,” Odysseus told her. “If you are seen with us it won’t go well for you. It’s in that temple there right,” he ran towards the temple without even waiting for an answer. I went to follow him but Helen stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“Are you not able to do anything with him Diomedes? His disguise isn’t enough to stop people from recognizing him if they’ve met him before. I knew him as soon as I saw him around the Palace walls. You both are lucky I am on your side, if I hadn’t been you both would have been captured now.”

“I don’t have time right now, sorry Helen,” I said over my shoulder and she let my arm go.

It was late enough that no one was still in the main area of the temple. There were still a couple of priestesses and priests probably, somewhere, but we couldn’t see them. The statue was there however, on a pedestal, proudly displayed. Offerings lay around it, in largest prominence was a lovely white gown, clearly fine enough for royalty. Had some woman offered it for the safety husband? There was no time to wonder on the fate of those who would support Troy.

Odysseus was already kneeling down and tipping the statue and I only barely was in time to catch the head of it before it fell to the ground. I wrapped it in a piece of cloth I had brought for the purpose and we each took an end. I had wondered if the job was really worth having two people on but really we could have used more. The statue was deceptively heavy for its size and that was with Odysseus carrying a good deal of the weight. Say what I like about him, he is very strong.

We didn’t see Helen again. She must have gone back to the palace before she was missed. I would have liked to thank her for her help but it was probably better that we didn’t have the chance; it would have slowed our rush through the city. Out through the passage again and back to a place where we could feel safe and secure.

I don’t think I can begin to say how relieved I was to be out of Troy again. It was still night so there was no chance of battle being engaged and we were able to walk in peace towards our own camp. Maybe Athena even guarded us as we carried her statue, like she had guarded the people of Troy while they had it.

When we reached our beached ships we both set down the statue and positioned it upright. Even in the dark night it stood proud against the light of the nearest fire. I was staring at it, when I heard the sound of a sword being drawn behind me. Years of fighting came to my assistance; I dove to the side right on time, not even looking to see who it was. As I spun, drawing my own sword in one movement, I realized it was Odysseus.

To be continued...

The Palladium II

“Ah, there you are Diomedes, I was wondering when it was you would decide to come. I was starting to think you had gotten scared at the last minute,” he said. Any other king among our army would have drawn his sword and slain Odysseus for that. I came close, but my honor wasn’t the most important thing at stake at the moment.

“Have you found out where the Palladium is?” I asked, manfully holding onto my temper.

“Of course, who do you think you are talking to? I found out where it was an hour ago,” Odysseus boasted. “Follow me.” I followed, it was either that or talk longer, and I didn’t think I could handle that and control my temper at the same time.

We ended up in a back street of one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city. I looked around but I couldn’t see anything that looked like a temple or shrine. It didn’t make sense that they would keep a statue that protected the entire city in an alley. I was just thinking about asking Odysseus about it when we stopped and a woman, dressed all in white, came from behind one of the buildings.

“Helen, you probably should be here,” I said. “Just talking to us probably makes you a traitor.”

“I want to go home,” Helen looked terribly sad and worn out. “This war drags on and I won’t be able to do that. Odysseus tells me that if you get the Palladium then you will win and I will be able to go back to where I belong. With Paris dead the only thing that tied me to this city is dead.”

“Helenus told us that you had married his brother,” I protested. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get the Palladium; I was desperate for the war to be over and to go home myself. That didn’t mean that I was willing to believe that Helen wasn’t going to lead us into a trap of some sort. She had been married to two of Priam’s sons by now, that would suggest a certain amount of friendly interaction with the enemy. I would also not put it past Odysseus to become to arrogant to make sure that she wasn’t acting as a spy to lure us to our deaths.

“I am tired of Priam’s sons,” said Helen with pure disgust in her voice. “The last one of worth was Hector, and he died a long time ago. The others fight amongst themselves for women rather then fight the enemy on the field of battle. If you don’t win then I will be stuck in this city forever, and I would rather die.” I was taken aback but there was no doubt that her voice was sincere anyway. She was telling the truth, she would take us to the right place.

“Lead on, daughter of Zeus,” I said smiling at her. “With the Palladium we will burn this city to the ground and all go back to where we belong.” She smiled back and motioned us to follow her.

This time we did end up at a temple, one dedicated to Athena. We probably could have found it alone eventually since that was the obvious place for a statue of Athena but there were apparently several temples dedicated to the goddess and they were spread out across the city. Having a guide was very helpful and we were able to catch up on what was happening inside of the walls of troy while we were at it.

To be continued....

The Palladium

I looked over at Odysseus standing next to me. He was already in his beggar’s clothing. It was a pleasant sight for me, the overly proud king, so full of his abilities, dressed like the lowliest part of society. It had been so easy for me to get him into those clothes as well. All I had had to do was tell him that it was a job that required far more cunning then I possessed. He was so pleased by his position as one of Athena’s heroes that he had fallen for it. Never mind that Athena had once gone so far as to drive my chariot for me. He continued to think of himself as the only hero the goddesses had eyes for.

This wasn’t the first time that I had been forced to work with Odysseus, there had been once before. When we had been sent to fetch Heracles we had gone together as well. By now I knew better then to trust the man beside me. He was a cheater and a liar, and willing to go to the most underhanded first. I knew that if it was to his advantage we would have to face one another, and soon. For the time being however we had to work together, it was for the good of the troops. It would hurt moral as badly as it had been hurt when Achilles and Agamemnon had fought if Odysseus and I fought. So I pretended to be pleased to be called the only man worthy of working with Odysseus on this mission, just like the last one, and went along with it. I had to remind myself that at one time I would have been honored to be compared to Odysseus.

Helenus had been a difficult person to get information out of. It had taken us a very long time; after all he was the son of King Priam’s son. Even when going into voluntary exile, out of spite since he hadn’t gotten to marry Helen, Helenus wasn’t willing to betray his city easily. He was a fortune teller however, he once whispered to me once that he knew that there was no way to save the city of Troy. There were conditions to us wining however. After a lot of work he did finally give those to us. Prophecies were quickly becoming the bane of my life. Fetch Heracles and his bow so he could kill Paris. With Paris dead Helenus left the city, Helenus left the city so we could capture him and get his new prophecies, and only once we did everything we were told to could we win the battle. As if it hadn’t gone on long enough already. As far as I was concerned the only good thing we had received from Helenus was the information on the secret passage we were now standing outside of.

“You wait here for me while I go scout out where the Palladium is,” Odysseus told me, before going into the tunnel. As if we hadn’t already been over this repeatedly. Odysseus was the hungriest man I had ever encountered for fame. Worse then Ajax even, Ajax had had honor, he had proven it when he killed himself, and Odysseus had no honor. He would do everything by himself if he could, but the statue was too heavy for one man to carry. So he would try and do everything he could by himself, before having to lower himself to ask for me to even do menial work such as carrying heavy objects. It chaffed me, but I had already told myself I would do what was best for the war and the troops. That meant that I had to keep my temper. So I stood and watched Odysseus run out of sight in his ridicules clothing.

I waited two hours before I also entered the tunnel and walked deep into the enemy city. Odysseus was standing at the entrance, clearly waiting for me. I fought down my annoyance. Never mind that he could have come and got me if he was done with his reconnaissance, never mind the snub.

To be continued...

Saturday's Child III

I don’t think any of us were very surprised when Jonathon finally collapsed about a year after he opened the store. He had simply put to much stress on himself. Worked without sleeping or eating sufficiently, none of us had seen him in months. When I rushed to his hospital bed he looked more dead then alive.

“They say you will be fine soon,” I told him. Trying to hide my shock at his appearance, he looked like a specter come to haunt me from beyond the grave.

“Elizabeth,” he said sheepishly. “I don’t ever want to see that store for as long as I live.” I looked at him in shock and he must have been able to tell that I was taken aback because he continued. “You have no idea what I have been through. I had no idea what I was getting into and I couldn’t stand the thought of asking for help. I think just walking into that store will make me ill.” I was shocked to see tears in his eyes. I quickly excused myself.

“He’s suffering from malnutrition and having a nervous breakdown to boot,” the nurse told me when she saw me. “He’ll get better but you should make sure he doesn’t push himself.” I nodded in agreement.

So it was that I became the proud owner of a clothing store I had no idea what do with, I even paid Jonathon for his share of it. I felt he deserved the money since he had nearly destroyed himself for the place. After all the work that the whole family had poured into it I couldn’t stand the thought of selling it, but I didn’t have the time to run it. I was just contemplating the issue when Helen peered around the door.

“Is Jonathon feeling better?” she asked.

“He’s going to be fine,” I assured her. “He’s just had his usual bad luck I guess.”

“I feel really bad,” Helen said, slipping into the room and having a seat. “I mean the store was originally my idea. I thought it would be good for him, I had no idea it would turn out like this.”

“No one is going to blame you Helen,” I told her. No one ever blamed her for anything, mostly because she never meant any harm. Besides no one would have ever predicted that things would turn out like this, it would be pointless to assign blame.

“I can run the store until Jonathon feels better, if you do the accounts for me. If the work is split between us then I think I will be fine. Even if no one blames me I should still take responsibility.”

“Jonathon says he doesn’t ever want to set foot in the store again. He won’t be taking over again,” I informed Helen. “I was thinking we might have to shut the store down.”

“No,” she said emphatically. “You can’t do that. That would just throw away Jonathon’s hard work. The store has to continue no matter what. If you do the accounts,” she trailed off, and then turned towards the door. “You guys better back me up here.”

The door opened and everyone but Jonathon stood in the doorway. Even Joseph was there, for the first time in two years. They all looked determined as they walked into the room.

“We were afraid you were thinking of something stupid like that. You always act like that. Doing what you think is best for us without asking us what we think,” George said. It was the harshest I had ever heard him. He was usually so kind.

“When did you get back Joseph,” I asked. Not willing to look George in the eye.

“I called and Helen told me that Jonathon was in the hospital so of course I flew straight here,” he said. “I’m glade I did. I agree with the others. We will not shut down the store. I have already been there, it’s beautiful,” he smiled. “Truly beautiful, you should never destroy something like that.”

“So what should you do?” I asked.

“Let us take care of something for once my dear sister,” he said. For the first time I think in my whole life I realized that my siblings were truly adults ready to share my burden. They weren’t my children who I needed to take care of; they wanted to take care of themselves. I smiled back at them, and if my smile was slightly sad, I don’t think any of them noticed.

Saturday's Child II

The next several weeks kept us all very busy in the house. Helen, George and I were of course very invested in Jonathon’s new plan but we weren’t the only ones. Everyone pitched in, even Kristy, who is one of the two who don’t live in the house anymore. She works as a fashion model so she was actually a great help to us when it came to choosing stock for the store. She knew everything that was in fashion and what was likely to become fashionable soon.

The only one of the siblings who wasn’t actively involved in the project actually was Joseph, who we call the wanderer. Sometimes we get postcards from him, from goodness knows where. He has no set address and rarely calls so he is very out of touch with what goes on at the house. Thursday’s child really does have far to go I guess. Just like the rhyme says. Though I wonder sometimes if even he knows where it is he’s going. I doubt it. I think he just likes the feeling of being on the move.

We found a nice little shop for sale in a prime spot down town. It was a little pricy but for the position it was a good deal. It took about two months for us to do all the remodeling on it. Of course we would have hired people, we had the money but some how doing it ourselves made it more ours. By the end of those two months we had spent more time as a family then we had in years, and we were the proud parents of a clothing store.

George, Friday’s child, his wife and children did the wood working. They built the shelving and the counter. George even did some detailing around the doorframes. Kristy, Monday’s child, picked the stock and got us some good deals through some of her connections in the fashion industry. Joseph didn’t know it but he helped us with the decorations. The Christmas presents he had sent home over the years became decorations. Mirrors from South America, paintings from China, and carvings from Africa adorned the shop. Tuesday’s child, Alex, did the actual stocking of the shelves and hangers. He is the most careful of all of us, the most likely to get everything perfect. George did the advertising and arranged the publicity. It was his store supposedly after all; we thought it was best if he was the one who came in contact with the public. I of course did the accounts and kept track of the expenditures. I also did all of the paperwork and got the necessary permits. I think I am the only one in the family with any administrative talent what so ever. Helen, the child of the Sabbath, is good at whatever she turns her hand to and helped all of us a little. None of us can be jealous of her, she’s our kid sister and therefore a great favorite, but sometimes it is annoying to see just how talented she is.

We didn’t have the luck to open the shop before Christmas, so we missed those sales, but we opened soon after Valentines Day the next year. We agreed none of us but George would work there, unless he was sick or on vacation. We all felt much invested in the store, but it wouldn’t do him any good if we took it over. This was his project, we knew that. It was time George learned to stand on his own two feet.

George honestly poured his soul into that store I think. We never saw him. After the first month the shop was open he moved out of the house into a very small basement apartment, all by himself, closer to the shop. I had worried that he wouldn’t like to stay there since it was such a dump but he had just shrugged and said that it didn’t matter. I don’t think he slept much. He took over the accounts from me, even though I had told him I could do them. He started picking the stock and stocking himself. It was a small store but it wasn’t that small.

To be continued.....

Saturday's Child

There are seven of us, my siblings and I. Each of us was born on a different day of the week. That’s what our mother used to tell us. I was born on a Saturday, when they say that Saturday’s child has to work hard for a living they don’t say it’s because she has to deal with all of the other days of the week. Though of course some of them cause more problems then others, like my brother Jonathon. By all right I should be able to live without ever working. Our parents left us very well off, with enough money and a very large mansion. Because of this most of us still live on the family land. The problem is I am the oldest, and that leaves me with enough responsibilities that it seems like I never get any rest at all.

I was actually thinking about my lack of rest when I heard a knock on the study door. Through unofficial agreement the study is mine. It’s only fair since I run everything that I get the room most useful as an office. Usually the others don’t go near it, not unless they want me to give them something to do. I am very good at delegation, and very bitter about being the only one in the house that does any real work.

“Come in,” I shouted. The door is very thick; if I don’t shout then people don’t hear me. There is no way I am going to start getting up to let them in.

“I need to talk to you Elizabeth,” said Jonathon, peering around the door. I motioned him to a chair but I can’t say I was looking forward to the interview. I mentioned Jonathon before. He is truly Wednesday’s child, full of woe. He is always trying to move out of the house but always comes back after a few months. A large part of this is that he is always trying to move out with various girls. It isn’t so much that he lacks ability as he has poor taste in women, and can’t stand living alone.

“So what is it?” I asked him. Already resigned to hear him tell me about yet another girlfriend, he surprised me.

“Helen and George have been talking to me. Apparently I have been worrying the family.”

“I wouldn’t say worrying,” I argued. “But I will say that you do sometimes come up in conversation. It’s only natural, you seem to have such bad luck that of course we are concerned about what might happen to you.”

“I would call that worrying. So I’ve been thinking it’s time to break the cycle of moving out only to come back. I’m going to ease myself into it this time.”

“So you aren’t moving out?” I asked, relieved. It isn’t that I don’t want him to be free of the house if that’s what he wants, two of our other siblings live elsewhere, but I didn’t want to see him hurt again.

“No, not yet, I want to be self sufficient first, I want to open a shop. I was wondering if you would help me. George says he will give me part of the money to start with.” I smiled, George would. George cared a lot about family, and he was so generous with the money he earned that it was a wonder he had any for himself. It might have been because he gave all of his money away that George still lived with us, along with is wife and their children. The more the merrier of course, but having the children run around the house didn’t make it any calmer.

“I think opening a shop is a great idea,” I enthused. “What kind of shop were you thinking?”

“I was thinking about a clothing store, nothing to fancy but I do like clothes and always have. I think I could sell enough to at least make a living. Once it starts making money I will think about moving again. But if you wouldn’t mind I would like to stay here until I am on my feet.”

“Of course,” I said. It must have been Helen and George’s influence. This was the most well thought out plan I had ever heard from Jonathon.

To be continued