Overboard! Page 20

  Neep cowered behind the rest of the pirates, or at least he thought he did, for his height pretty much excluded him from being a cowering type.

  “You should know better too, Mister Neep!” She continued. “You obviously fail to understand the word, “subterfuge” by the look of it!”

  Neep flicked through the pages of the SOPE manual in his mind, which due to his lithographic memory was entirely stored in his head, but he could find no mention of the word “subterfuge” at all. Just to be certain he flicked through it again, then finally the index. Twice.

  “The manual doesn’t say anything about subterfuge, Captain.” he said. Daisy merely snorted. Neep concluded that the absence of the word “subterfuge” in the SOPE manual was a definite oversight, though he did smell a rat – quite literally – and suspected that word was hidden somehow. Neep thought that often he was too literal. Mis-spellings would never occur to him at all.

  “And I suppose you have the whole thing memorised do you?” She exclaimed and he was about to answer that yes of course he had, but Daisy pressed on. “It just goes to show you, Mister Neep. The SOPE manual doesn’t know everything about being a pirate, now does it?”

  Neep went to object again but the silence of the pirates was broken by the arrival of what appeared to be a courier carrying a small rolled up piece of paper.

  “Letter for The Scarlet Daisy!” shouted the small man dressed all in blue, an official looking shoulder bag currently overflowing with what looked like scrolls and envelopes pulling him over to one side at a slightly alarming angle. Neep was surprised to see the delivery man was being followed by a small black and white cat.

  The room fell into a silence even deeper than before because now even Daisy was not shouting. There was a deep cough from the back of the room and one of the pirates stood forward, smiling at the postman.

  “I am Daisy.” he said, bowing his head slightly at the now vaguely alarmed looking postman.

  “I am Daisy.” said Mister Bones, his voice growling deeply through the room as he too stood forward.

  “I am Daisy.” said Ensephilephtor Boom, standing up from a table at the back of the room and also stepping forward.

  “I am Daisy.” shouted Mister Bucket, thinking that was perhaps some kind of game that even he could join in. Neep decided to throw in his hand.

  “I am Daisy too.” he said, moving towards the now even more confused postman.

  “Well you can’t all be Daisy!” he smiled, pushing his small blue peaked cap up in exasperation. “Stands to reason.” There was a small pause as the black and white cat played about the postman’s legs. “You are all men for a start.” There was another pause. “Daisy ain’t a man’s name as far as I can recall.” He said finally, desperately attempting to ignore the stare of every pirate in the room, the small scroll now clutched even more tightly in his hand.

  “Stand aside!” called Daisy from behind the gathered pirates, pushing them out of her way as she approached the postman. Her face had grown a little less crimson, but she still appeared to be in a not terribly good mood.

  “I am Daisy.” she announced to the courier, who acknowledged her with a bow. If nothing else her dangerously low blouse bore testament to that fact. “What do you want?” The postman looked taken aback at this, though Daisy had an expression on her face that seemed to suggest that it would not be a good idea to remind her that it was a question that was at best not required.

  “Well…” stuttered the postman. “I have a letter for you.” He blushed furiously as she leaned close and plucked the small slightly squashed scroll from the postman’s hand. Knowing what was good for him the courier backed up slightly and then fled the room quickly, the small cat following close on his heels.

  Daisy examined the scroll carefully. Neep saw that it looked like a small piece of paper carefully rolled up and tied with a piece of red ribbon. As he watched Daisy undid the ribbon and dropped it to the floor before unfurling the scroll and beginning to read the letter out loud.

  “To the Scarlet Daisy. It says.” She continued to read the letter aloud, “You are invited to a masquerade at the home of Roalde DeNeuf in the noble quarter. Masks and costumes are expected. The Masquerade begins at eight pm sharp and concludes at midnight when masks shall be removed.” Daisy began to turn crimson again. “A party invite.” she blurted out loud. “It’s a damned party invite!” Daisy stared at the scroll again as if she was trying to will it out of existence by glaring at it. “Who the hell is Roalde DeNeuf?” She spat angrily, reading the name of the sender out loud. Behind the bar Lucetta De Sanchez grinned almost from ear to ear.

  “He is only the most eligible bachelor in the whole city of Nine Wells.” she smiled dreamily. “He is also without doubt the richest. His mansion takes pride of place in the noble district second only to the keep of The Beak himself.” She sniffed haughtily, walking out from behind the bar to look at the note. “Are you sure it is from him?” She asked, and so Daisy showed her the note.

  Lucetta looked perplexed but confirmed by the seal and the signature that the invite was in fact genuine. “It is a tradition of the city.” she explained to Daisy and those gathered around listening. “Every year at this time there is a masquerade ball held by the DeNeuf’s. The cream of the city’s nobles are always invited to attend.” Lucetta managed to look more than a little envious.

  “When exactly is this masquerade ball then?” Asked Bones, taking the scroll from her. Daisy stood transfixed, glowing redder and redder by the second.

  “Two night’s time.” she said angrily, and gave a loud snort. “It even has a plus one on it.”

  “Well you can’t go!” said Neep. “It looks like a trap to me.” Neep cross referenced traps in his mind. SOPE manual, pages two hundred and one to page two hundred and three. The reference manual simply stated that traps rarely ended well.

  “I don’t believe this is happening!” yelled Daisy suddenly, kicking a chair nearby and sending it spinning across the floor. “We are meant to be here in disguise, stealthily moving about the city lying in wait for that idiot Jenkins!” She kicked another chair. Behind the bar Neep noticed Lucetta keeping a tally on a small piece of paper of furniture ruined. He thought that perhaps the size of the paper was a little on the small size and that she may need a larger piece pretty soon. As if to confirm this another chair was sent flying across the room after contact with Daisy’s boot.

  “And now we are receiving party invites!” She scowled angrily at Mister Bucket who, as per usual, was having difficulty keeping up with present circumstances and so did what he usually did and decided to keep quiet.

  “So we can’t go and get out tattoos?” asked the burly sailor, screwing his face up in confusion as Daisy aimed a stare at him that could very probably sour milk at a hundred paces. Finally, she exhaled in exasperation.

  “Oh you may as well!” she exclaimed. “After all, we have nothing to hide now do we?” There was another furniture related incident and several pirates had to move pretty quickly to avoid yet another flying chair. “I am going to my room.” she said finally. “And I do not expect to be disturbed!” Daisy turned on her heels and headed upstairs.

  The ability to suppress a grin was not beyond most pirates, but Neep thought that the group now gathering to attend the tattoo parlour were having great difficulty in hiding their pleasure in leaving the cramped Inn even only for a few hours. Slowly they formed up and made their way from the Inn and up into the commercial district, Neep tagging along behind, a seriously wide grin upon his face.

  And so they had found themselves seated in the reception of “Grin and bear it”, examining small books full of pictures of tattoos. The journey to the tattoo parlour had been short and uneventful, though Neep continued to marvel at just how busy the city was. Every street corner or square seemed to be full of a thousand distractions, and the noise and bustle of people just going about their everyday business made his head spin. Prior to this the most people he had ever seen ga
thered together at one time was at the annual “Grill a Swordfish” festival in Hard Knocks, when everyone got together to, well, rather unsurprisingly grill a swordfish. It had nothing on this place, however. For a start he had, so far anyway, seen no swordfish.

  “What about an anchor?” asked Mister Coil from behind Neep, pointing at a sketch in the tattoo book that was indeed an anchor.

  “Everyone seems to have an anchor.” Said Neep, having discovered that this was in fact true. He flicked through the pages of the catalogue. It was a difficult decision to make he found, for once done he would of course be stuck with it for the rest of his life. Around him the other pirates were already engaged with the tattoo artists, dragons, mermaids and indeed anchors being scribed over biceps and worse. Neep however simply could not make his mind up whether he wanted an arm full of ink at all, or whether he preferred it the way it was, and so time wore on as he eventually ran out of time. Tattoo less he made his way back to The Drowned Duck feeling more than a little deflated.

  By the time they got back to the Inn the afternoon had passed and when they entered the saloon Daisy was stood at the bar as if waiting for them.

  “Ah. Gentlemen.” She announced to the returning pirates. “Glad you could make it.” Neep blushed slightly, thinking he was being singled out. At his height however it was not an unusual occurrence. “I was just telling your comrades here that I am concerned as to Captain Jenkins’ whereabouts. I would have thought he would have arrived by now, though I would not put it past him to sneak a landing party ashore. To that end I intend to have a quick reconnaissance down at the docks to see what we can discover.

  “Neep, Mister Bucket and Mister Boom. You are with me.”

  Hearing his name being mentioned Neep found his disposition improving remarkably.

  Chapter 17

  ~ The Black Tooth~

  The building known as, “The Black Tooth” by the citizens of Nine Wells was more than aptly named. A tall keep of black stone, it rose above the noble quarter, straddling the city walls that made up the base of the towering edifice. The rock was weathered by the wind, the soft stone walls giving it the appearance of aging; or decaying like an enormous black tooth, rotten to the core, which is why most people referred to it as, “The Black Tooth” in conversation, though never if that conversation that was likely to be overheard by one of The Beak’s guards.

  All of which the man known only as, “The Beak” revelled in. He was a short man with the air of one who has much to prove despite his built up shoes and tall hat which he wore even indoors to increase the weight of his presence; or so he thought.

  That he was dangerous there could be no doubt. You did not rise to be the man to whom all paid tribute in every financial transaction in the city without treading on a few toes after all. Yet The Beak was not a man for half measures. If a toe needed treading on, then he started with the head and worked downwards. He would get to the toe eventually, he reasoned.

  Possessing a private army of approximately two thousand armed to the teeth psychopaths helped a lot too. Even though they did have to wear a uniform - or so most of them did. It was the ones who were sufficiently high ranked that did not have to wear a uniform that you really had to watch out for. They had a cruel habit of turning out not to be the butcher, the baker or in surprisingly the most unpleasant, the candlestick maker. It was surprising really what damage you could do with a two-foot altar candle and a good strong wick.

  The Beak prodded what was left of a small roasted chicken on the plate in front of him, his feet propped up on the table, his built up boots resting uneasily next to his plate. The cowed and cowled figure stood before him, head bowed; silent. A person possessed of a greater sense of observation than normal may have noticed his shoulders trembling, or the cloak shaking slightly as if a breeze had dared to enter the dining hall of The Black Tooth. It had not of course.

  “So let me get this straight in my mind.” said The Beak, glowering down at the figure stooped before him. Apart from the trembling the man did not respond at all, for he knew from previous bitter experience of colleagues who had long since vanished that it was not a very good idea to interrupt The Beak whilst he was ruminating. “The girl known as The Scarlet Daisy attempts to sneak into my city unannounced and looks as if she is waiting for someone to arrive. In the meantime, she receives an invite to Mister DeNeuf’s masquerade ball.” The figure in front of him nodded slightly, yet no sound came from the figure at all. “How sweet.” The beak rubbed his chin with his hand; thinking. “I wonder who she is waiting for?” he asked and the figure finally spoke.

  “I have Jep looking into that.” Rose a thin reedy voice from the cloaked shape.

  “Good.” smiled The Beak and the spell seemed to break. “You have done well.” The figure bowed but remained completely immobile. There came then a loud knock on the outer door and the guards placed there admitted a taller man dressed in a red uniform who strode into the room and approached The Beak’s table.

  “Pigeon for you.” announced the man, swerving around the caped figure in front of The Beak, totally failing to acknowledge his presence in any way whatsoever, as if the person there did not exist at all. He held out a small rolled up piece of paper which The Beak took from him and unrolled, a quizzical smile playing across his face.

  “Leave us.” he said to the red uniformed man who saluted and spun on the spot, leaving the room as quickly as he could.

  “It is a message from a Captain Jenkins.” announced The Beak. Still the shadowy figure did not move. “He says that there is a pirate in my city called The Scarlet Daisy who is on a mission of sedition and treason to my running of the city.” The Beak stared away into space as if relishing the thought almost.

  “She must be eliminated, my Lord.” said the figure before The Beak.

  “Indeed. Yet I wonder what a woman who is only interested in wealth and infamy wants in a city such as Nine Wells. I wonder if this captain Jenkins tells the whole truth.”

  “Captain Jenkins as in, “Mad Captain Jenkins”, my Lord?”

  “It appears to be the same.” The Beak reached down to an ornate table by his side and plucking up a small gold bell rang it softly. “The letter did also contain what appears to be a drawing of a duck after all. It can be taken as granted I would suggest that Jenkin’s grip on reality is at best shall we say...tenuous.”

  As the sound of the bell faded a door on the far side of the room flew open and in entered a tall thin man dressed in a butler’s outfit. He as good as ran across the room before reaching The Beak’s table.

  “My lord?” he enquired, sweat breaking on his brow.

  “Have we received our invite for mister DeNeuf’s masquerade ball?” he enquired obliquely, examining his fingernails as if the answer already disinterested him.

  “Of course my Lord.” the man stuttered. “Same as every year. I take it we will not be attending, as per usual?”

  “Your ability to attempt to second guess me is admirable.” said the Beak, “Yet I cannot help but feel that one day you will overstep the mark. Be careful.” The butler visibly drained of colour and attempted to stutter a reply but The Beak merely waved a hand in dismissal. “We shall be attending this year. It would be rude not to. Prepare the costume I had made up last year but lost interest in.”

  “The peacock, my lord?” enquired the butler, an eyebrow involuntarily rising.

  “Indeed.” said the beak, waving a hand in dismissal. The butler left even more rapidly than the messenger had.

  “Interesting.” said the Beak to the figure still bowed immobile before him. “It seems that lots of people are showing an interest in Scarlet Daisy.”

  “Trouble follows her like sharks to a corpse.” Said the shadow.

  “They do.” mused The Beak. “They most certainly do. I wonder what she is up to?”

  “I have Jep keeping an eye on her now.” said the figure confidently. I am sure if she makes a move then Jep will be the first to know.”

/>   “Excellent.” said The Beak. “Well I will allow you to return to your business.” The figure rose and bowed slightly, then turned to leave.

  “Send Mister Blade in on your way out will you please?”

  “Yes my lord.” said the figure as it moved silently along the hall almost as if gliding across the stone tiles before leaving the room through the door at the far end.

  “Most curious.” muttered The Beak to himself. “I think perhaps it is time that Daisy and I had our final reckoning…”

  Chapter 18

  ~ Sentado No Cais da Baía~

  “No sign of the Torta Di Frutta at all.” said Boom, ducking behind the pile of wooden crates on the dock, pulling his cloak about him to attempt to block out the cold biting wind which blew across the darkened port. Daisy, Neep, Boom and Mister Bucket had made their way slowly to the docks, keeping to the shadows as they went, Daisy continually chiding Neep to duck his head as they made their way there. There was a half-moon scudding through thick black clouds above the city, the darkness away from the quays absolute, though torches and braziers lit the docks themselves across the road from where they hid. “I walked all the way down from the east quay to the west and back again. If Jenkins’ ship has docked it has left again. He definitely isn’t here.” Concluded Boom.

  “I wouldn’t put it past the sneaky old bastard to put a landing party ashore.” said Mister Bucket, his bright red shirt shining conspicuously in the moonlight. “I would if I was him.”

  “Mad Jenkins?” laughed Daisy quietly. “He would probably send his landing party ashore sitting on dolphins dressed as mermaids.”

  “Perhaps he has disguised his ship?” said Neep, his eyes opening wide at the idea, and were reflected in the sudden roll of moonlight that flitted through the clouds.