Having raided the impossible-to-raid Harshtree Prison and freed Fezzik, the intrepid pirates of the Revenge escape into the night, their legend even greater. Captain Montoya promised them that when Fezzik was safely aboard ship, that they all would learn to swim. It wasn't acceptable that half of them, including the captain himself, didn't know! They just need to escape the Florin navy, hot on their heels, and find a friendly, hidden cove somewhere so that the captain can begin lessons. Read on!
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Adventure One: Freeing Fezzik
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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Adventure One: Freeing Fezzik
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
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8.
Battle!
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I retrieved a handkerchief
and gave it to the captain, who dabbed up the blood and tears.
“Hey, hey ...” he
said consolingly. “Are you okay?” He gently reached and touched the bridge of
the boy’s nose. “Nothing broken. Just your pride, eh? What’s your name?”
“Ch-Ch-Chas,” the
boy blubbered.
“Chas,” he said,
wiping up more blood, “where is your mother and father?”
“I don’t know!” he
cried. “I don’t know!”
“Tell you what,
Chas,” he said, “we’ll find them together. Let’s go.”
He took Chas’ hand
and stood. To me he quietly asked, “So what do you suggest, Duncan ?”
The Bavus-Naguty
ships were an hour away yet. It was clear they were beelining directly for us.
“This is a big
ship, Captain. We’re easily as large as that destroyer, and probably twice as big
as its companion—a bilander, if it’s anything. I don’t think we can outrun
them. They have the weather gauge and the angle on us. So ...”
He nodded. “I think
I know where you’re going. Keep the crew cracking. I’ll be right back.”
He emerged ten
minutes later. I was at the bow by that point, scope in hand. “Back with Mom,”
he announced. “Even got a smile out of him.” He gazed out at the warships.
“Bilander, you say?”
I’d been watching
the ships and assisting the bosun. All were anxious for a plan, which I believed
I had formulated.
“Captain
Cummerbund,” I began, “faced a similar predicament. Let’s change course,
Captain. When we’re ready, let’s head directly for those boats—the bilander in
particular. They’ve got all the advantages, so let’s head right at them. A game
of chicken, as it were. We are as armed up as that destroyer. We have to be
with all that green sugar below us! They won’t expect a fight. They expect us
to run. They expect us to be confused and frightened and ignorant as to what we
should do. Let’s see how badly they want to die for God and country.”
He glanced out at
the ships for a considered moment, then back at me. “The bilander is a couple
hundred yards ahead. The big boat will struggle not to shoot across its bow.”
I gave a dark grin.
“Exactly.”
Twenty minutes to battle. We had turned hard to port, aimed
right at the warships, the bilander in particular.
“Ahoy!” called out the crow after his
whistle. “Third ship on the horizon!
Approaching fast!”
“Son of a bitch!” I murmured.
The wind, which had
since kicked up, was at our backs. Gun crews were ready. The passengers were as
safe as they were going to get.
“Pirate flag!” bellowed the crow. “Pirate flag on the horizon!”
“What the—?” I hurried to the mizzenmast
and began climbing it for the crow’s nest. Captain Montoya, Stacie, Fan, Rynag,
and Aledar had all crowded against the port railing, scopes extended. Down
there, there was nothing to see. They hurriedly turned to watch as I gained the
nest and extended my scope.
“Well, cleave me to
the brisket! It’s ... the Revenge! The Revenge!”
It was a strange
but wonderful thing watching Bavus-Naguty sailors, and the Rolot’s new bosun, cheering. But they were, along with the
Bandileros. The passengers were stowed in their bunks and cabins, but I’m sure
they would have cheered too.
“Are you sure, Paloni?” demanded the captain.
“I’m sure, sir!” I
shouted back. “Woohooo!”
Captain Montoya
bounded up to the bridgedeck where the navigator manned the wheel. I was busy clambering
back down the mast. The bosun, ready to put our plan in action, shouted out,
“Prepare for battle!”
The Revenge was sailing straight for us!
How did they know
we were in trouble? How did they find
us?
It didn’t matter.
The Bavus-Naguty warships bearing down on us now had two real problems to
contend with, not one.
I rushed up to the
bridgedeck. Bandileros were up here, or at the bow, or busy helping sailors
with the sheets. More sailors were belowdecks at the cannons. We may have been
a hodge-podge crew, but we were crackerjack in that moment, ready for anything,
and working together like we had been crewmates for years.
“Ever done this
before, sailor?” I asked the navigator.
“Never, sir!” he
returned.
I forced a grin.
“Neither have I.”
At that moment the
big warship opened fire. The cannonshot zoomed and struck open water well away
from us. The splash skied high in a thin column and dissipated a moment later.
“What the hell are
they doing?” yelled the navigator, hanging tight to the wheel.
“They’re trying to
scare us,” I answered, unsure but confident. “They’re bloody well trying to
scare us!”
The big boat opened
fire again. Again—water splashed well away from us. The warship and its smaller
companion were still a good ten minutes out of range. The Revenge, in the meantime, was growing visibly closer, swiftly so.
“Keep a bead on the
bilander,” I ordered the navigator.
“Yes, sir!” he
shouted.
Captain Montoya, who
had since left the deck, returned, bounding up the stairs.
“Bilander adjusting
course!” shouted the helmsman along with Angus, who was helping him.
“Adjust with him!”
ordered the captain. “Stay aimed right at his bowsprit!”
The destroyer sent
another booming round at us.
“At this rate,”
shouted Quaid, “they’ll be out of ammunition before they even get to us!”
“Who’s manning the
cannons?” I asked.
“Hindy, Stacie, and
plenty of Rolot’s finest,” replied
the captain. “We’re as ready as we’re ever going to get.”
“Prepare to fire!”
I called.
“Preparing to
fire!” came the answer from around the deck.
“Keep us aimed at
that bilander and fire when ready!” yelled Captain Montoya.
The bow cannons lit
up with a deafening double-BOOM! that shook the deck.
The first
cannonball struck water just a few yards from the bilander’s bow. The other slammed
dead center into it. Wood splinters exploded from it; but it appeared the shot
didn’t pierce it. We were still a couple minutes away from being able to do
that. Still, it sent a clear message, and the bilander’s crew did as we wanted
them to do: they adjusted course to slow down and hug up close to the
destroyer.
“Adjusting course!”
yelled the navigator.
The big destroyer
let out another volley. The splashing water was much closer, no more than a
hundred yards out. They were taking real chances, almost shooting across the
bilander’s bow. Just as we wanted.
The Rolot’s big bow cannons fired. Both
shots this time struck dead-center in the smaller ship’s bow. Exploding wood
and smoke obscured the view through my scope.
“Double-time on the
sheets, boys!” yelled the bosun. “Let’s make ‘em huddle in the shadow of their
big brother!”
The destroyer fired
again. But this time it wasn’t at us—but the Revenge!
We sent another
volley at the bilander. The shots tore through their sheets, leaving perfectly
round holes in them. Their sailors crouched with each blast. They came up
increasingly panicked as they worked to get their boat closer to that big
destroyer, which fired again at the Revenge.
The destroyer
opened fire—at us. One of the shots slammed into our hull. The entire ship
jolted. From belowdecks I could hear passengers shout and scream.
“Straight on!” I
yelled.
Captain Montoya had
gone silent. I gazed at him.
He looked like he
did when facing down Rugen and his men outside
Harshtree prison. Controlled, ready rage. I think he was taking it quite
personally that the Bavus-Naguty Navy was firing at the Revenge. He looked ready to board both ships and gore each and
every sailor.
The Revenge was catching up to the big
destroyer very quickly. Its reputation for being one of the fastest ships in
the Seven Seas was well deserved. I felt great pride at seeing its full sails
taking up more and more of the horizon, watching the ocean break white against
its sharp bow. They had a bead on the destroyer and weren’t going to let it go.
The destroyer
released another volley at them—at the same moment that Revenge’s bow cannon lit up. The shot was true, slamming against
the big boat’s stern and sending up an angry mist of wood. It fired again—my
guess was that Ryan Ymoro and probably Kalvban were manning the cannons—and
again the stern of the destroyer was briefly shadowed by pieces of its hull. Revenge released yet another volley just
as the destroyer fired back—at the same time we did.
Both our shots were
true, slamming into the bow. More of its stern blew into the air.
“We’ve punched a
hole in both ends of her!” yelled the bosun as the bilander finally decided to
get into the fight, firing at us. Both shots tore into our sheets, one no more
than seven feet above me. I could hear the damn thing coming.
“They want a fight,
we’ll give ‘em a fight!” yelled Aledar.
“Keep the bead on
the bilander!” Captain Montoya shouted just as it fired again. One of the shots
struck our bow; the other sailed portside, touching nothing. We fired back, and
the bilander had new problems, because a small explosion rocked the vessel, a
big ball of flame catching its foremast. Rolot’s
crew, and the Bandileros, let out a yell. The bilander’s bow cannons were out
of commission.
It was no more than
a couple hundred yards out now. We fired again, and another explosion sent another
billowing ball of flame into the air. The boat shuddered, angry smoke tailing
from its quarterdeck, and turned hard to starboard to escape, exposing its
side. We fired again—so did the big boat at us—and the bilander seemed to cave
in on itself just before exploding in a titanic fireball that knocked several
of us off our feet, me included. We had hit their portside; their own destroyer
had struck their starboard. I heard the Revenge
open fire again, but couldn’t tell if it struck paydirt or not.
“New heading!” I yelled over the cheering.
“Straight at the destroyer!”
“Answering new
heading!” returned the helmsman. The Rolot
turned to face its similarly sized enemy. The bilander was sinking, survivors
unknown.
But the big
Bavus-Naguty warship had lost its will to fight. It turned hard to starboard,
exposing itself to both us and the Revenge,
but the captain stayed his hand. The Bandileros and Rolot’s crew cheered loudly, pumping their fists in the air and
hugging. Revenge sent on more volley
at them, striking paydirt, but then let them sail away.
I watched Captain Montoya embrace Aledar, then Fan, then Stacie, who had rushed up to the topdeck, and knew another chapter had been added to the Dread Pirate’s legend.
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