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Probably he means no harm. |
At the end of The Princess Bride, Westley says to Inigo, "You'd make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts!" Here are the many adventures of the new captain of the Revenge! Read on!
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
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3.
Good Deeds
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Fog enveloped us as we made our approach to Dredskull Point.
Normally I'd be happy about it—fog. It's great for hiding in. But not here. Not
at Dredskull Point.
There wasn't a
lighthouse to guide us in. That was intentional, to dissuade those like us from
attempting a landing and doing what we were planning, which was to break a
prisoner out. To get to Harshtree, one must go by foot, over land. The sea provides
protection from two sides, and the land side is heavily fortified with thick
stone walls, guards, and attack dogs, and a virtually impenetrable forest that
stops just feet from the front wall (hence the name "Harshtree").
As a challenging
first mission, this was a doozy.
"Aughghghgh!" croaked Captain
Montoya when I said this to him. He was on his knees, his head hanging over the
bowl of his loo.
Sometimes the best
way to motivate a man is to give him a challenge. He rises above himself in the
undertaking of it, spurring him on to even greater ones.
But perhaps my
timing was a little off.
I apologized.
"Aughghghgh!" was his answer.
He spat into the
bowl, then said, "Three days, Paloni. Three days!"
"Would
encouraging news help?" I asked gingerly.
"What
news?" he demanded, his voice hollow as he spoke into the bowl.
"I've been
timing your bouts of nausea and vomiting," I offered. "They're
definitely coming at wider and wider intervals. Soon they'll be gone
completely!"
He stared up at me.
His face was green, his eyes bloodshot. It was quite clear he didn't put that
information under "encouraging news,” and it was equally clear that he
expected some of the genuine variety, and immediately, the consequences of me
failing to give it possibly involving me being offered as shark bait. That was
the look in his eyes.
"And ... and
..." I stuttered, "have I told you that Captain Cummerbund's crew
landed at Dredskull Point ... which means we can, too?"
"I thought you
told me that no one has landed there, that everyone who's tried has died!"
"Yes,
sir," I said, "I did say that. It turns out one of our crew served
under Captain Cummerbund. He says the captain found a way past the reefs and
rocks. They landed only to find out the man they wanted to break free had been
beheaded that very morning. They got back to the longboats just in the nick of
time, apparently. The prison guards were alerted to their presence and almost
captured them."
He stared at me.
"The point
is," I pushed on, "that instead of guessing at a landing point, we
can use Captain Cummerbund's map. Uh ... provided, uh, that is, uh, that we can
find it."
But we couldn't. In desperation I ordered the old sailor
who'd landed at Dredskull Point with Captain Cummerbund to accompany me to the
captain's quarters, which smelled strongly of vomit.
The captain was sitting
at his desk, slumped over it, a mug of lukewarm water in his grip.
The old sailor
saluted. Captain Montoya lifted his fingers limply, dropped them. I took that
as a return salute and told the man to sit.
"This is Dauchkin,
sir," I said.
Dauchkin saluted
again, then removed his scarf and used it to wipe down the chair and then to
sit on it.
The captain lifted
his head and took a very tiny sip of water before rasping, "Paloni says
you were with Captain Cummerbund when he landed at Dredskull Point."
"Aye,
sir," he said quickly. His thick British accent was even harder to
understand with the gravel in it.
"How old are
you, Dauchkin?" groaned the captain.
"Sixty-six
this year, sir," said the crewman.
"We can't find
Cummerbund's map," said Captain Montoya. "We can't find the way in
through the rocks and reef. Can you remember the way?"
"It was during
low tide, sir," said Dauchkin. "That much I remember. We approached
from the east. There is a reef-rock that looks like the Devil's head, sir, when
the tide is out. We stayed starboard of that, just enough to keep from grindin'
up against it. I don' remember much more n’ that, but I do recall the cap'n yellin'
for joy once we got past it. You see, sir, the way comes clear once ya get
clear of the Devil. I’m sorry, sir, tha's all I remember."
Dauchkin's answer seemed
hardly satisfactory, and I was about to say something like, "The point is
miles long and the fog is pea-soup thick! And we'd have to be at the right
point at the right time at low tide to see it! Back to your duties,
Dauchkin!"
But I stopped.
Because a determined grin, albeit very small and tinted sickly green, pulled up
Captain Montoya' lips for the briefest of moments. I knew his utter lack of
experience made him think that Dauchkin's memories were all we needed, but I
weighed that against the last three days and the misery he'd gone through and
shut up. The news seemed to drain the nausea from his face a little, and that
was a very good thing. I've seen seasickness before, but nothing like the kind
that gripped our new captain.
"Dredskull
Point," he said. "It was named as a marker for those looking for a
way in."
I shook my head in
wonder. It hadn't occurred to me to connect the two. The revelation made me
feel stupid.
"There is no
map," I offered. "I would bet the Crown Jewels on it. Captain Cummerbund
was the only one who's done it, and pounds to parrots says he wouldn't have
recorded the way. He was a very smart man, as legend tells it, with a fantastic
memory."
I could tell the
captain was losing the strength and patience to continue talking.
"We can sail
to the eastern approach within a half day, given care," I suggested
quickly. "We can begin a search for it, longboats, the works."
He nodded and waved
both of us out. Dauchkin stood.
"Beggin' pardon,
sir," said Dauchkin, turning back to face him, "but I think I can
help with your, uh, problem."
He dug into his
trousers and pulled out a wrapped bit of what was probably candy and placed it
on Captain Montoya's desk.
"What is that?"
I demanded.
The old sailor said,
"It's a yquaberry lozenge, sir. I make 'em myself. They grow at the edge
of the Fire Swamp
in Florin . That there will cure the green tide,
sir, mark my words!"
The captain took
the candy and unwrapped it. The lozenge was a rough lime-colored oval with
specks of red in it. He held it up and inspected it, then shifted his gaze to Dauchkin.
I'd heard of
yquaberry before. It was rumored to have all sorts of interesting properties,
including sobriety and sexual potency and anti-aging effects. They grew in
generally inhospitable, unreachable locations—like the Fire Swamp .
It wasn't that I
was being overly cautious when I said, "Captain, I wouldn't—" I mean,
I'd heard all sorts of tall tales about yquaberry. But what I knew wasn't a myth was that an unreasonably
large percentage of people couldn't consume them because they often caused
fatal allergic reactions.
I'd said,
"Captain, I wouldn't—" but it was too late. He'd already popped the
lozenge into his mouth.
"I crush 'em
and mix 'em with a little lemon n' sugar, sir. Helps with the taste. If I may
suggest, sir, suck it slow and be sure to drink plenty o' water after. The green
tide'll ebb in no time."
"Thank you,
Dauchkin," I said impatiently.
The old man hurriedly
saluted and left the captain's quarters.
I gazed at Captain
Montoya.
"I've never
heard of yquaberry," he murmured lifelessly, the lozenge making his left
cheek bulge out. "It's not that bad. Not as far as medicines go ..."
I didn't bother to
report my fears of him having a fatal allergic reaction to it. It was a mark of
how awful he felt that he was willing to try anything, even a potentially fatal
poisonous berry, to get better.
"I'll check on
you in an hour, sir," I offered.
The captain nodded
and lowered his head back to his desk and moaned quietly.
I gently closed the
door to his quarters behind me.
An hour later I knocked.
There was no
answer.
Fearing that Captain
Montoya was in the death throes of a fatal allergic reaction, I opened the door
and peeked inside.
He was lying in his
bunk. The smell of vomit had dissipated somewhat.
"Captain?" I said.
He didn't answer.
Had I let the old
sailor kill him? Good God!
I approached and cautiously
reached a hand over his face.
A warm, regular
breath greeted my palm.
"Captain?" I tried again, slightly louder.
He didn't stir.
If I was going to
screw up, I would do so on the side of caution. I pressed the back of my hand
to his forehead.
He didn't have a
fever. And it was just then that I also noticed something else that he didn't
have—a green complexion.
Was the lozenge
actually doing him some good? I knew he hadn’t slept much if at all the past
few days. Perhaps the nausea had gone away and he had dropped off for some much
needed rest. Could it be that simple?
We were still two
or three hours from the eastern approach to Dredskull Point. I resolved to
check again on him when we dropped anchor. I covered him against the cold fog
and left.
I knocked on the door.
"Come in,
Paloni!"
He sounded like a
new man! I opened the door.
He was cleaning that
magnificent sword of his. (To use on me—?)
"C-Captain?"
"Bring
Dauchkin to me. Right now."
"Yes,
sir," I very quickly responded. I closed his door and went up the
quarterdeck and grabbed the old sailor and returned. After another knock we
went in. My sense of self-preservation as strong as ever, I let Dauchkin go in first.
"How are you
feeling, Captain?" I asked meekly over the old man's shoulder. I noticed
he'd put his sword away. A good sign—for both of us.
"Couldn't be
better," he said, smiling contentedly. He glanced at Dauchkin and extended
his hand, which the old man took.
"Thank
you," said Captain Montoya.
One thing that
captains do not do is thank their inferiors. It just isn't done. If anything, captainly
gratitude is extended with a brief smile, or, if the favor was extra special,
an extra shot of rum or helping of food.
Dauchkin was
speechless.
"Well, man,
what have you got to say for yourself?" I demanded, surprised by the force
of my outburst.
"M-My
pleasure, sir," said Dauchkin, gawking unsurely at me then at the captain.
"Do you have
any more of those yquaberry lozenges?" asked Captain Montoya, releasing
his hand.
"A whole
jarful in me bunkbag, sir," said Dauchkin, nodding enthusiastically.
Captain Montoya glanced
at me. "I haven't felt this good since I rode off into the sunset after
killing Count Rugen!" Then to Dauchkin: "How long do the lozenges
last?"
"Hours,
sir," replied Dauchkin, "more if you drink at least three glasses of
water with each one."
"I drank four,"
said the captain.
"Well, then,
sir," said Dauchkin happily and proudly, "you should be right as rain
till tomorra. Take another then, sir. Just one at a time'll do ya."
"Do you get
seasick, Dauchkin?" I asked.
"No,
sir," he replied, "but a few of the crew do. They wouldn' want me to
tell you who they are, and I respectfully ask that you don't ask. I have to
live with them after all, sir."
I’m certain he
didn’t approach the captain these past three days out of fear. Taking pity on a
pirate captain is a sure way to get thrown overboard. I felt frustration well
up and rather cynically said: "I suppose they pay you for them.”
"No,
sir!" said the old crewman, shocked. "I give 'em away free."
That seemed to
impress the captain greatly.
"Double his
pay, Paloni.”
Dauchkin blinked.
"Thank you, sir! Thank you!"
My mouth was
hanging open. I closed it.
"Good deeds
should be rewarded," said Captain Montoya.
"Back to your
duties, Dauchkin," I said vacantly. "I'll record your new pay in the
ledger later."
"And tell the crew
that if they do good deeds, they'll be rewarded," said the captain.
"No man should go through life unappreciated for the good he does for
others."
"Yes,
sir!" said Dauchkin, who gave as smart a salute as I've ever seen while on
this boat. He turned on his heel and marched out of the cabin. Pride fairly radiated
from him.
I turned and
stared. Captain Montoya was breaking out the moscatel.
Very delicately I
said, "Sir, I don't think we can afford to double the crew's salary, not
without going broke very quickly."
He gave me a big
happy grin and then patted my back. "Then it's time we started doing some
real plundering, don't you think, Paloni? But first, let's find a way to break
out my friend Fezzik."
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