Overboard! Page 8

  He was brought back to reality as he heard a new strange voice from somewhere at the back of the dark room. It was a very deep voice, but it almost sounded as if someone was deliberately trying to make their voice deeper.

  “What about a flintlock pistol then?” asked the voice from the dark. “Do they count?” There was a general murmuring about the room as this was discussed.

  “Nah.” Came a more voice more familiar to Boom from nearby in front of him. “A flintlock pistol isn’t a weapon of mass destruction is it now?” Loud jeers began around the room, and Boom waited patiently for them to die down. The strangely deep voice continued however.

  “Maybe it is because the gunpowder isn’t visible perhaps?” Mused the voice into what was now almost total silence. “I should imagine if you can’t quite hear the fizzing of the flame as it races along the fuse it doesn’t count.”

  There were several nervous coughs from about the room as thirty or so people’s imaginations began to kick in. Even Boom wasn’t immune to the voice as it continued. “Yes. Racing along, little lines of flame flickering as the fuse wears down, getting near to the store of powder in the cannon, dancing along as it goes…”

  There was a loud sound of a chair scraping on the floor at the back of the room, along with a number of not so polite “excuse me’s” and then the banging of the door. Still the voice continued. “And then the pause… the sweet moment just before the powder chamber erupts and the cannon bucks on the deck..” The door banged again, and several chairs sounded as if they were being vacated somewhat hurriedly. Boom found his mouth going dry. “There’s the smell of the powder too… it’s almost like the smell of power, of flame. It’s… It’s…” said the voice as if searching for the right words.

  “It’s like being alive!” Boom found himself saying as he finished the sentence for the mysterious speaker, and deep sighs echoed in the darkness from about the room as the door to outside the darkened cellar began to sound like a turnstile. Boom felt dizzy, the walls closing in on him as he registered even more people leaving and then a loud wooden thump as something was placed on the floor against the far wall. Several somethings by the sound of it. Boom found his palms were clammy, his mouth dry.

  “I am lighting a lantern.” he said in a panic, and reaching behind him drew a flame into a large brass lantern and raised it above his head, illuminating the cellar. He was not surprised to find the cellar now completely empty apart from himself and two other people, one who had a long black hooded cloak wrapped tightly about their person, the other one who most definitely did not.

  “Allow me to introduce myself.” said the tall attractive woman who stood before him, her long black hair flowing down over her shoulders, a smug smile playing on her voice. Boom noted with disdain that her blouse seemed to be perilously open too.

  “I am Scarlet Daisy.” she said, and gave a small bow, her movements almost certainly hampered by the blouse. “You may have heard of me?”

  Boom had of course. Who hadn’t? Yet his mind was on other matters. “You have disrupted my meeting!” he yelled. “Years it has taken for me to get these men to trust me. All lost now. And for what?”

  “Well.” said Daisy as she sauntered towards him, long evil looking swords glistening in the lantern light. She walked behind him and he felt her breath on his ear. “I have a small… shall we say, problem?” she breathed into his ear. “And I think you have the expertise to help me where very few others do.”

  Boom gulped and noticed for the first time three very large barrels of what was without doubt gunpowder stacked against the wall. They most certainly had not been there before. They were very big barrels too. His mouth went even drier, if that was possible.

  “Upstairs The Golden Octopus are holding a meeting with a certain Captain “Mad Jack” Jenkins, who I believe is a man of your acquaintance.”

  “I wouldn’t spit on that man if he were aflame!” snarled Boom, looking at the barrels and the long, lazy fuse out of the corner of his eye.

  “Quite.” said the other figure wrapped in the cloak in almost a snarl. “They have something that we happen to need, and so we need a diversion. Get them moving on their way as it were.” the figure concluded, the voice deep and resonant, as if made of stone or old bones.

  “And you have the expertise to assist. We require a large explosion, yet we do not wish the building destroyed.” Daisy moved back in front of him. “We need to ensure Captain Jenkins has a certain item about his person before he sets sail Trust me, this will inconvenience him greatly.” she smiled, and Boom gulped and moved towards the barrels of gunpowder, his eyes aflame, and the smell of saltpetre in his nostrils.

  “Good boy.” laughed Daisy, smiling at Boom as she began moving hesitantly towards the door. “We knew you would help us.”

  ***

  Neep looked at the eight men sat around what was a very highly polished table. Three of the men sat on the left of the table, four on the right. At the head of the table sat a man of indeterminable age, a small white kitten sitting on his knee which he was stroking gently. To one side stood a short man in what appeared to be some kind of naval uniform of his own creation. The most remarkable thing about him however was the fact that his beard seemed to have several what looked like birthday candles sticking out of it, some of which appeared to be alight. He had a fierce look of dislike of anything and everything in general, and as if to prove this he looked Neep up and down in a manner that seemed to indicate he was vaguely offended by Neep’s very presence.

  “So Mister…” said the man at the top of the table with the small white cat, glancing down at appeared to be a piece of paper on the table top. “Neep.” he finished, giving a wide smile. “At last I can say I have met a real breathing pirate consultant.” He paused, watching Neep carefully in a way that reminded Neep of the way he had seen a cat eye a mouse. “I am Mister Blue Felt, by the way.” he smiled, tipping his hat him which was in fact blue in colour and did indeed to be made of felt. “The leader of the Golden Octopus.” he stroked the small white cat again as if to emphasise this. “A real living and breathing pirate consultant.” he sighed finally.

  “Not for much longer if I have anything to do with it.” said the man stood one side with his beard now smoking away happily. “In sooth it may be that his interfering ways may be at an end.” The other men at the table shuffled awkwardly at this, and the man with the cat smiled indulgently at the man with the smoking facial hair.

  “Now now.” said the cat man. “The cartel of The Golden Octopus is nothing if not benevolent. At least give Mr Neep here a chance to explain himself.” he gestured at Neep to speak, and Neep took a nervous step forward. The man with the lit beard placed his hand on a long sword at his side and Neep came to a sudden halt.

  “Well I never meant any harm.” he said, and several of the members of The Golden Octopus about the table sneered at this. “I just though a piratical consultant would be a good career move, given that I didn't want to end up selling fish for the rest of my life as it were.” The man at the table wagged a finger at Neep.

  “And yet you seem to be treading on our toes so you do.” he smiled.

  “Telling us how to conduct our business.” sighed one of the other men from the left of the table.

  “Not a particularly clever thing to do.” said one of the other men, and several others about the table nodded at this.

  “Indeed.” said the man with the white kitten. “Yet The Golden Octopus is, as I have already said, nothing if not benevolent. We believe that bailiffs from this course you are undertaking are shall we say keen to get your attention?”

  “Just a misunderstanding about payments.” said Neep cautiously, remembering his escape from his rooms this morning.

  “Indeed.” said the head of The Golden Octopus, continuing to stroke the cat vigorously. “Captain Jenkins here.” he pointed to the man at the end of the table with the smoking beard. “Has agreed that you may accompany him on a little voyage in sear
ch of a great treasure.” He smiled once more. “A lost island as it were.” Neep noticed that several members of The Golden Octopus seemed to be trying to prevent themselves from laughing. In fact, several appeared to be biting their lips.

  “Indeed. As long as my ways is that of the eternitarian it may be said in all truth that long have I sought for the lost island of Capability Jones.” said Jenkins through his smoking whiskers. “You should be thanking The Golden Octopus for such an obrumpently exciting and potentially lucrative opportunity.” said Jenkins as one of his candles slipped from his beard and fell to the floor. Several of the men at the table looked at Jenkins in an odd manner, and one seemed to be attempting to check an ear trumpet for potential blockages. Most of them however seemed to be doing their very best not to laugh. Nevertheless, several apparently muffled giggles could be heard from the table.

  “What did he say?” asked the older pirate with the ear trumpet and the men on either side of him both shook their heads in confusion. Jenkins didn’t seem to notice however and he moved forward and casually stamped on the candle as if nothing had happened. Neep noticed that one of the men sat at the table on the far side seemed to be turning a deep shade of purple. One of the pirates at the far side of the table suddenly stood up, his face crimson and creased as if he was trying to hold himself together.

  “Excuse me.” he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. There was a sudden roar of laughter from the other side of the door that lasted a good thirty seconds before settling into silence once again. The door opened and the pirate re-entered and took his seat back at the table as if nothing had happened.

  “Please continue.” He said sternly, wiping tears from his eyes.

  “A lost island?” asked Neep innocently, and to the apparent displeasure of Jenkins, continued, “Are you sure?” Jenkins face became even angrier as he said this, and Neep noticed that one of the men at the table seemed to be sticking pins into the back of his hand, and was apparently struggling to breathe.

  “Obacerate your doubts, young man, and stow your pigritude! Of course we are sure!” yelled Jenkins, producing a rolled up parchment from inside his jacket and unfurling it, held it up for all to see. “Here is the map that shall lead us to a great treasure, the likes of which has never been seen in The Seven Tines since many an age! There is no time for blateration, Mister Neep - our circuland voyage of the brimarian seas awaits!” He rolled the map back up with a flourish and put it back into his jerkin.

  “Right.” said Neep, uncomfortable with the fact that several of the men around the table were now beginning to turn an even darker shade of purple if that was possible. Even the pirate with the kitten seemed to be turning a very dark shade of crimson, his shoulders rocking as he tried to control himself.

  “So you expect me to just up and go?” said Neep now feeling an edge of potentially ill-considered anger rising rather unwisely within him. “Just like that?”

  “Of course not.” said the man with the kitten. “I expect you to die Mister Neep.” he smiled. “After all, everyone else who has tried to find this great treasure…” he paused slightly as if trying to compose himself. “Has never returned.” he concluded, and at the sound of this Jenkins began to grin almost as if he was relishing the challenge.

  “Well… “Began Neep, his mind racing as he tried to form some sort of plan to elude this treasure hunt. But his mind didn’t seem to be working. In fact, the room had fallen into complete and total silence, almost as if he was underwater. He moved his head slightly as he noted in confusion that the roof seemed to have disappeared. He found himself glancing left as he also noted that most of the walls seemed to have disappeared too. It was at that precise moment that several things happened at once. First of all, his hearing returned with a thump, sounds of what appeared to be some sort of explosion filling his ears. Secondly, he found himself flying.

  A bright flash of flame tore through the floor cutting the room in half, and the men at the table disappeared in a cloud of smoke that seemed to be following the same direction as the flames. Neep vaguely noticed Jenkins flying through the air too, and then suddenly with a loud splash he found himself in what appeared to be the sea. He floundered, and then kicking upwards rose to the surface of what actually appeared to be a small duck pond. There was a loud splash and Jenkins rose to the surface besides him, the candles in his beard now completely extinguished.

  “In the name of…” began Jenkins, but then Neep found himself being roughly handled to the side of the pond just as he noted in a daze the door of what was left of the Patch and Parrot pub fell open and several members of The Golden Octopus staggered out, the man with the kitten leading them. Jenkins dragged Neep over to them and through ringing ears saw a look on the head of the Golden Octopus’s face that explained exactly why he was head of the conglomeration of pirates in the first place.

  “You have the map still?” The leader of the Golden Octopus asked Jenkins and the pirate reached into his jerkin and nodded. “Good. Get Mister Neep to your ship and be on your way Jenkins. Do not return without the treasure!”

  “Aye sir.” snarled Jenkins and as the other members of The Golden Octopus began to emerge incredulously from the wreckage of the inn, Jenkins dragged Neep away by the scruff of the neck, heading for the docks nearby.

  ***

  Daisy drew back into the shadows where Mister Bones and Ensephilephtor Boom were quietly watching as Jenkins dragged Neep away.

  “Bloody good shot Boom.” said Daisy as Boom preened himself, his face flushed with excitement. “Right into the pond.” Bones moved silently beside her as if at home in the shadows.

  “He has the map too.” said the deep gravelly voice and Boom shivered slightly at the sound of it.

  “Indeed.” said Daisy. “Now we shall head back to the ship. As soon as he is out at sea we shall have him.” Daisy glanced around at the guards now running around the members of The Golden Octopus who were glancing wildly at the burning remains of their headquarters.

  “Best make ourselves scarce.” said Daisy. “It won’t take them long to come looking for whoever is responsible for the explosion.” she looked at Boom who was experiencing a moment of personal crisis. “You are with us, Mr Boom.” she said casually, beginning to head in the opposite direction of the guards. “After all, Captain Jenkins is our mutual current objective, so to speak.” Boom nodded enthusiastically and they began to slowly but cautiously make their way back to the ship, carefully avoiding any attention as they went.

  Chapter 5

  ~ All at Sea ~

  Neep peered through the wooden slats of the door behind which he was currently locked. He saw a large number of men on the deck untying ropes and climbing up into the rigging as Captain Jenkins's ship, The Torta Di Frutta cast off from the dock and began to head to sea. It had been a relatively quick trip from what remained of the Headquarters of the Golden Octopus to the ship, during which Jenkins had not once relinquished his grip on Neep’s collar, dragging him along relatively easily and murmuring darkly to himself as he did so.

  Once up the gangplank Jenkins had shouted his orders to set sail and Neep had found himself locked in a small wooden cupboard that sat in front of the quarterdeck that was now obscured from sight behind him. Nevertheless, he felt a slight change of buoyancy in his stomach as the ship headed away from the dock, and casting off its line made to the harbour mouth to head out to sea. The cupboard in which he had been placed seemed to be some form of flag cupboard. There were several flags in there with him and later on he would use these as blankets during the cooler hours of the night, or roll them up into a pillow during the day. He couldn’t make out exactly what the flags were in the half light of the locker, but he could make out that they seemed to be mostly black with white patches, and so therefore concluded they were almost certainly piratical in nature. This thought made him a little less displeased with his situation for a while, but it did not cheer him greatly.

  In the darkness of the
locker Neep could just about make out Jenkins’s voice barking commands from above and behind where he was incarcerated, but he could not quite make out exactly what the commands actually were. Over a period of time as they left the harbour behind them the deck began to creak somewhat, much to Neep’s alarm, but after a few hours he seemed to grow accustomed to it and as it appeared that he was going to remain where he was for the time being he managed just about to curl himself into a ball and eventually fell to sleep.

  When next awoke he could see sunlight creeping from beneath the door of the small prison he found himself in. To his surprise a small bowl of what may possibly have been food lay just inside the door, and a bucket was nearby too. Glad that all of his needs seemed to be being catered for he picked up the bowl and forced some of the slop he found in it down his throat. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was actually meant to be, and he didn’t feel like investigating much either. He noted the deck below his feet rising and falling with the passage of the ship through the water, and from time to time he had to steady the bucket with his hands. He thought that it would not be such a great thing if that fell over, and yet the motion of the ship did not disturb him. He was from a family of fishermongers and so seasickness was something he had never encountered at first hand, and was apparently something that he was immune to, more by osmosis than anything. There was a period of disorientation but after he had been awake for several minutes that faded too.