My jaw dropped. Instinctively, I reached up to check whether my ears were clean. But, deep inside, I knew I hadn't misheard.
"Are you bloody insane?" I hissed, grabbing his arm. "What do you think you are doing?"
"Taking the best opportunity we're going to get," he answered, his voice low and cool as a cucumber. "Look around you. Those men are bloodthirsty sharks. They don't like people telling them what they can and cannot do. That's why they're pirates in the first place. If I can challenge the captain now and win, I can usurp his authority and we will not have only one boat at our disposal, but an entire fleet!"
"And if you don't win, you'll die!"
"Indeed."
I was just about to open my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought of this response when, from down at the beach, came the roar of the captain.
"Who? Who the hell said that?"
"I did." Before I could stop him, Mr Rikkard Ambrose took another step forward. Lifting his chin, he fixed his icy gaze upon the pirate captain. "What are you going to do about it?"
The captain's eyes narrowed. He was a big man, I realized. Bigger even than Cyclops. His skin was so rough and craggy from constant exposure to the salty sea air that it looked like a rocky landscape. His whole face was covered with a rough, jet black beard, and his entire body was littered with scars.
No...
Not his entire body, I realized. There were scars in many places—arms, legs, knuckles—but in certain places, his skin was as smooth as a baby's bottom. The skin over the heart. The head. The liver. All places which just so happened to hide vital organs.
This man is dangerous. Very dangerous.
"What am I going to do about it, he asks!" Chuckling, the captain drew his cutlass and twirled the massive weapon like a toy. With a broad grin, he looked down at the figure of Gaptooth on the ground. "How amusing! You didn't teach the new crew members a lot about respect and discipline, did you?"
Gaptooth gave a nervous chortle. "Aye, well...seems so."
"Well then..." The captain's smile widened. "Let me show you how it's done."
And he stabbed his cutlass downwards. With a squelch, the blade buried itself in Gaptooth's throat.
All of a sudden, silence reigned over the beach once more. In the distance echoed the call of a gull. Somewhere, a coconut dropped from a tree. Nobody dared to move.
"Now..." Withdrawing his cutlass from Gaptooth's unmoving corpse, the captain raised the bloody blade towards Mr Rikkard Ambrose. "Do you still plan on challenging me, boy?"
Oh my.
I felt my eyes widen ever so slightly. Boy?
He should not have said that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Where, before, his eyes had been at arctic temperature, they now were at absolute zero. Reaching over, he held his open hand out to Jack the Jackal.
"Sabre."
"Huh?"
"Give me your sabre. Now."
Swallowing hard, Jackal gripped his sabre. "Hey, um...are you sure? You—"
"Your. Sabre. Now!"
Three words. Every single one of which made clear how very much he did not like to repeat himself.
With a gulp, Jack handed over his sabre. Snatching the weapon, Mr Ambrose stabbed it into the air. "Men! Friends! Compatriots!" He took three long strides forward, then whirled around and spread his arms to encompass the crowd.
Wait a moment! Was he going to...?
Impossible!
But...
He really was, wasn't he?
Mr Rikkard Ambrose was going to give a speech. Oh my. This was going to be good.
"Listen to him!" Stabbing his sabre at the captain, he swept his gaze across the gathered pirates. "Is this the man you've chosen to lead you? Is this supposed to be your captain? A pirate captain?" He spat into the sand. "If that man is a pirate then I am a bird-of-paradise. Pirates are free! Fierce! Unrestrained by rules and regulations! You all...!" He swept his arm across the crowd. "You joined because you don't give a crap about the laws! You want to do whatever you want, and to hell with anyone standing in your way! Not the army! Not the navy! And most certainly not the man who is supposed to lead you all!"
Once more, his gaze moved across the crowd, capturing everyone's attention.
"Are you going to stand for this?"
His eyes found mine, boring into me, their meaning clear. Instantly, I slammed my fist into the air. "No! Never!"
Without looking at him, I buried my elbow in Jack's ribs.
"Oomph! What the—oh. Never! Never!"
"They're right!" Another shout rose from a delightfully gullible soul. "We won't be ordered around!"
"Aye! We won't let ourselves be led around by the nose!"
"We're pirates!"
"We're free!
"Yes, you are!" Mr Ambrose shouted. "And do you plan to stay that way?"
"Yes!"
"You want to plunder and steal whatever you want?"
"Yes!"
"You want to stay free?"
"Yes!"
"You want to put down anyone who holds you back?"
"Yeeees!"
"You see, Captain?" Turning back to the pirate captain, who had remained still and silent throughout this little speech, Mr Ambrose stabbed his sabre towards him. "Seems like you aren't wanted anymore."
"Aye." Twirling his bloody cutlass, the captain sent blood spatters all over the sand. "Too bad it ain't their bloody decision to make!"
"Agreed." Mr Ambrose took a step forward, not lowering his weapon for an instant. "This can only be decided one way."
Holy shit! This is really happening!
Gulping, I stared at the two men as they stalked towards each other. When he tried to egg on the crowd, I had supported Mr Ambrose instinctively, but only now the realization of what that meant really settled in. A fight to the death. And not with any random thug, but with a man who had fought, bled, and led his men for decades. And, most importantly, a man who had survived.
A man my husband would now have to fight.
Inwardly cursing, I lowered my fist, still raised in the air from cheering on the suicidal son of a bachelor.
Dammit, Lilly! Why can't you ever keep your mouth shut?
I hadn't found an answer to that question by the time the two men came to a stop approximately fifteen feet away from each other. The tension in the air was so thick I could practically taste it. And it didn't just come from the two opponents facing each other. Most of the men on the beach had drawn their weapons by now and seemed ready to fight at any moment. And, by the looks of things, they weren't the only ones. While Mr Rikkard Ambrose's little speech might have convinced the men on the island, the crew still on the captain's ship most certainly did not seem interested in joining my husband. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Traitors!" Growling, one of the pirates up on the ship jumped over the railing and started wading towards the shore, sabre in his hand.
"Don't you bloody move!" the captain roared.
"But, Captain—"
"I said don't bloody move!" With a jerk of his free hand, the captain commanded silence. Not bothering to look at the men behind him, he strode forward. "I am Captain Kenneth Briggs! I've sailed these bloody seas for more years than that beardless gigolo—" He stabbed his cutlass at Mr Rikkard Ambrose. "—has been alive. I do not need anyone fighting my battles for me!"
The captain's eyes zeroed in on Mr Ambrose. "That is, if there is going to be a battle, boy?"
In answer, Mr Rikkard Ambrose merely took up a fighting stance.
"So," the captain enquired, eyes flashing. "Mutiny it is."
And he dashed forward, murder in his eyes. In a blink, he was in front of Mr Rikkard Ambrose, swinging his cutlass straight towards my husband's side. God, he was fast! Cyclops had been a big bastard, but Briggs was like a cheetah, one with a single, yard-long, deadly claw.
But then again...
What can a cheetah do against an iceberg?
Clang!
Mr Rikkard Ambrose's sabre met the captain's blade with a harsh, metallic sound. Briggs froze, clearly taken aback by the fact that his cutlass was not budging an inch.
"One piece of advice," Mr Ambrose told the older man. "I. Am. Not. A. Boy."
Only by hurling himself backwards onto the beach did the captain avoid the slash of the dagger in my husband's left hand. Heck! Where had he gotten that from?
Wait a minute! I reached for my belt, where I kept the knife I had requisitioned during our raid...and found nothing.
Son of a bachelor!
"Oh, you aren't?" Twisting around in the sand, Briggs jumped to his feet again and lifted his cutlass in one smooth move. "Then what are you, boy?"
Cocking his head, Mr Rikkard Ambrose shifted his left hand, revealing three more knives in his grasp. "Isn't it obvious? I'm a pirate."
Then he hurled the knives towards his foe.
"Bloody frigging...!" Briggs dived aside, but one of the knives still scraped along his cheek, leaving behind a deep cut. With a growl, he reached up to touch the blood—then looked up at Mr Ambrose. "No. You ain't a pirate. You're a dead man."
With a snarl, he snatched one of the knives from the ground and rushed forward. Meanwhile, the pirates beside me also started checking their pockets and belts, noticing the distinct lack of knives.
He did this on purpose! I realized. He wanted to show the pirates that he was one of them. Someone who would do whatever the hell he wants to achieve his goal. The kind of man they can see as their leader.
Only...
Why the hell did he throw his weapons away?
Briggs seemed to have had the same thought. Grinning widely, he advanced on my husband, both weapons raised. The cutlass slashed out, and was deflected to the side by a sabre. Another slash, another deflection. A stab, which Mr Ambrose promptly parried.
"Fight, you yellow-bellied bastard!" the captain snarled. "Fight!"
In answer, Mr Rikkard Ambrose simply cocked his head, as if to say: What do you mean? I am fighting.
Then he took up a defensive position once again.
Again, the captain dashed forward, his weapons lashing out.
"Why the hell—"
Clang!
"—aren't you—"
Clang! Clang!
"—attacking?"
In answer, Mr Ambrose simply stayed silent. Eerily silent. He kept defending. Kept retreating. It was all he could do, really, having only his sabre, while Briggs was armed with both cutlass and knife. Again, why oh why did he throw his weapons away? That was incredibly stupid, and all he got out of it was a slash on Briggs' face! So bloody stupid, unless—
Oh.
Oh my goodness.
He didn't. He couldn't have.
I looked at Mr Rikkard Ambrose's eyes. Cold. Sharp. Calculating.
Oh, Lilly, he definitely did.
Instantly, my eyes flicked to the cut on the pirate captain's face—just an instant before the man swayed ever so slightly.
Called it!
"Coward!" Briggs hissed, circling my husband with the intent to slaughter in his eyes. "You think you can win if you don't even dare attack? Ha! If you just want to stand there like a fool, be my guest! I'm going to hack away at you until you slowly bleed to death!"
"Attack?" Swiping aside another slash of the cutlass with his sabre, Mr Ambrose took another leisurely step back. "I don't need to attack. I have already won."
"Won? Ha! Are you sick in the head?" Snorting, Briggs took a step forward—and stumbled.
"Sick? Me?" My dear husband shook his head. "No. But you might be. Do you feel it already?"
"What...what the hell...?" Swaying, Briggs tried to take another step forward, and nearly fell on his face as a result.
"You do, don't you? You already feel weak. Your legs are trembling. Have you started sweating yet?"
"What...." The word that escaped from the captain's mouth was nothing but a croak. "What did you do?"
"Oh, nothing much." Lowering his sabre, Mr Ambrose reached into his pocket and, a moment later, pulled up a shiny, colourful fruit. A fruit that I recognized instantly, from far-too-painful memories. "Fascinating flora and fauna on these islands, don't you agree?"
"Y-you...!"
"After a certain incident, I made sure to study it for some time. Make some tests. Do some experiments."
"I'll ki...ki...kill...y—"
"I see you're already feeling the effects, correct?"
"Ki...kill...!"
Mr Rikkard Ambrose met the pirate captain's eyes. He didn't even bother to properly hold his sabre anymore. For good reason, it seemed. Briggs staggered forward once more, then fell to his knees in front of my husband.
"Ah, so you know how to show respect to your new captain. Adequate." Nodding in satisfaction, Mr Ambrose stepped forward and gently touched the former captain's face with a single finger, just below the poisoned wound. "Now..."
He pushed his finger forward, against Briggs' cheekbone. Without resistance, the man toppled over and landed in the sand.
Stepping forward, Mr Rikkard Ambrose placed a foot atop the fallen man and looked around in challenge.
"Anyone here who wants to challenge their new captain?"
Utter silence reigned.
***
Far, far away on the ocean, several dozen heavily armed people were kneeling on the hard deck of a merchant ship, hiding below a tarpaulin that stunk of fish-oil.
"So..." One of the men cautiously cleared his throat. "Why are we doing this again?"
"Don't you listen to anything I say?" a growl came from where the tip of a beard protruded from beneath the tarp.
"I did, but...I don't understand. We've been searching the oceans, islands and coasts for weeks with a whole fleet of ships and haven't found a single hint of the pirates' lair. How can we possibly do better while hidden under a tarpaulin on a single merchant ship?"
"Is it not obvious?" the owner of the beard hissed. "As you said, we've been combing the seas for weeks now, and still haven't found anything! Those pirates are slippery kuti'āṁ dē putara. It's clear we won't find any sign of them even if we search all over these islands for another month. And neither will we find a hint of Ambrose Sahib if, as I suspect, he and his wife have fallen into the clutches of these degenerates." The ominous cracking of knuckles issued from between the tarp. "So we will do something...different."
"Different how?"
"Simple. If we cannot find them, we will make them come to us. Those greedy pieces of filth have been hunting Mr Ambrose's merchant ships ceaselessly. There is no doubt that they will continue to do so. What do you think will happen if we sail across a sea, in a temptingly unguarded merchant vessel, full to the brim of precious goods?"
"You mean...?"
"Yes. They will be unable to resist this juicy morsel. Especially since they were most likely paid to go after Ambrose Sahib's ships specifically. I've taken care to spread rumours about a ship loaded with luxury goods travelling along this route at every island we've visited during our search so far. I am certain that word will reach the pirates' captain, and he won't be able to resist attacking Ambrose Sahib's ship." Once again, the cracking of knuckles came from beneath the tarpaulin. "And then we will crush him once and for all!"
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My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Oh my oh my...Karim is going to hunt down the evil pirates. I wonder what their new captain will think about that ;-)
I hope you enjoy the way the story is going?
Yours Truly
Sir Rob
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GLOSSARY:
Kuti'āṁ dē putara—sons of dogs.