Prologue: A Prisoner Of Sand And Time
Uncharted Waters, Indian Ocean, Unknown World...
Flashes of white-hot lightning ripped across the sky cutting in and out of the swollen dense clouds of the darkest grey as they loomed above the seafaring vessel that had been on the verge of being swallowed whole by way of the tumultuous and choppy murky depths below where many a body and sea creature alike resided beyond the light of the sun and the view of any man unfortunate enough to gaze upon the ocean's mighty fury and live to tell the tale. Unexpected bursts of hail the size of round smooth stones pelted against the hull and water-slick deck of the unfortunate vessel trying its best to survive amid the chaos as winds howled and the black sails had been ripped to tatters by way of the angry winds. The smell of salt and death lingered in the air as many a member still clinging to life aboard the rather doomed vessel had been praying for either safe passing or a quick death.
The creaking of the floorboards and the rocking of the ship had not done much in the way of comforting the worried and terrified crew as they scrambled to keep their vessel afloat. She had been a good ship, seeing them through many a storm and port alike while in pursuit of many famed treasures and riches beyond one's imagination but it seemed more likely than not that she'd finally find herself sinking to her watery grave. Her captain had named her The Red Wave Avenger, and his name had been among those of legend when it came to tales of the most fearsome and savvy pirates to ever sail the seven seas.
At the close of a fine chase by two massive and heavily armed British Vessels to put an end to piracy for good, The Red Wave Avenger had been holding her own with her crew of twelve right down to the lowly cabin boy, four massive cannons and expert fighters with the sharpest blades on water, she had at one time been a re-outfitted privateer vessel and as such became something of a force to be reckoned with when given her new look.
The colors of Black, Brown, and Red haunted the very dreams of many a man drawn into battle with The Red Wave Avenger and those that lived to tell the tale spoke of horrific supernatural things being at work whenever she'd been in their range. Tales of an infamous Pirate Capitan under a curse and a highly devoted crew willing to go to the ends of the earth for him and back if they needed to.
On this inauspicious day, The Red Wave Avenger, would, at last, find herself in a watery grave, but not due to the British vessels who had also been doomed to do the same, but due to the onset of the weather and the angry sea which had ripped all four vessels apart in the wake of their infamous sea battle as cannon fire, blood, and broken wood had been lost to the ocean's murky depths with the crackling of thunder as the four vessels caught in a massive swell had begun to go under. The winds howled and the crews all came to terms with the fact that they might not make it out alive as two of the heavier British vessels capsized and sank with their crew attempting to jump ship only to be pulled down into the ocean by way of their massive ships causing the water to pull them in.
The last British vessel had been smaller and as a result, escaped the grave that day as a more favorable wind pushed them out of the direction of the lightening that slashed the sails of The Red Wave Avenger and she caught fire leaving little doubt as to her fate and the fate of her crew who would rather be capsized with her than arrested and sent to the chopping block for the amusement of the British Crown.
Through all the madness the survivor had seen the infamous redheaded captain of The Red Wave Avenger, first hand his dark eyes glowing yellow as he howled in sorrow in the wake of his ship and crew being lost as the last portion of the ship capsized and took him under along with the others.
The long sea battle between the British vessels and The Red Wave Avenger had been over and only one smaller vessel had lived to tell the tale unsure what to make of the fabled supernatural ship and its redhead pirate captain meeting their end in a watery grave.
Or so they thought.
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Unknown Beach, Uncharted Island, Unknown World...
White froth from a constantly churning tide struck against the downed body of a lone man, half-naked, aside from a pair of worn and heavily ripped dark brown trousers that seemed to ride up toward the long and prominently muscled calves, of a lone man that had seen better days as his back was beaten via the blaze of the looming sun and particles of hot white sand stuck to his formerly palled flesh by way of the water and sweat from the heat of the sun. He'd been the rugged type, with good looks even with a thick and messy red beard tangled with long red locks that draped over his large broad shoulders and massively muscled arms. His thick long pale fingers dug rather involuntarily into the surface of the warm sand as his massive chest showed signs of him still drawing breath.
The half-naked man's well-toned back rose and fell as the tide rushed up and battered his scarred flesh with salty water making his wounds both sting and heal in the process as he continued to slowly rouse from being rendered unconscious for quite some time.
With a low groan, The half-naked man rolled onto his back with his low eagle-like deep blue eyes meeting the brightness of the looming sun and the vastness of the equally blue sky as he breathed deeply expelling the water from his heavily bearded mouth and burning lungs as he took in only the salty sea air. He lay there for several moments trying to piece together the flashes of broken memory that had been so inclined to return in a massive flood of out-of-order events.
He had recalled flashes of a ship, one that appeared to have been his and three others engaging in naval combat amid dark murky waters. There was cannon fire and blood spilled among splintered wood before a storm had evened the playing field sinking three of the four vessels, his ship included. There had been no survivors of the sunken ships, outside of himself as far as he'd known and he had not been surprised by it much.
The course sand seemed to dig into his still bleeding wounds and rather sizeable gashes as he lay there amid the sound of the waves that occasionally soaked his body and wounds, the oldest scar on his beaten and battered body had been slashed across the front side of his chest and abdomen since he'd been a clueless lad barely managing to get his sea legs during an expedition to an island rumored to have fine treasures and a vile curse.
A fine smirk filed across the rugged and decidedly handsome redhead man's pale face as he recalled the vile curse, the reason for the apparent bite mark scar that had been well healed as it rested along his massive right shoulder. His long red locks draped over it and the upper portion of his bare massive chest while dangling a bit along his forehead as he took his time taking in his surroundings before making any more sudden movements.
His rather trusty nose had taken in the scent of someone amid the shady palms that lined the end of the beach not far from where he had awoken and his rather large and surprisingly keen ears picked out the sound of a gasp shortly before whoever had been watching him huddled amid the strange-looking rows of bushes native to whatever strange Island he found himself being shipwrecked upon, covered their mouth in a bid to stifle the sound a movement that would have been possible, had the strange half naked redhead man been anyone else with lackluster hearing.
He had not lost his fine smirk as he sat up much to the shock of those who had been watching, the redhead man noted that they had been mostly women due to the scent of them. Experience provided a bit more details as to the kind by way of their collective scents. He had found them to have been curious young women who had been native inhabitants of the island and the waters that brought him to this rather odd and homely-looking place. Most of them were of course adolescents but some of them had been on the verge of womanhood given their more potent scent and he'd been well aware of the attention they had on him as he'd possibly been nothing at all like anyone they had ever seen before.
The Redhead man stood up without much difficulty given his situation and began showing off his rather impressively towering height which caused a good deal more gasps as he set about stretching despite his wounds and dusting off his tattered trousers by way of his massive hands. He had already known what they'd been thinking, his height had been something of a wonder even before he had washed up on their strange shores. He'd been told by many a doctor brave enough to want to examine him, that he'd been about six foot eight in terms of his height and weighed about 283lbs give or take if he'd been out at sea and missed a few meals.
His weight had been more or less due to the incredible muscle mass and the density of his bones as he'd been quite lean in appearance. He never bothered to note why it was aside from sheer luck on the part of genetics as he'd been born to an Irish native father and a new world foreign slave sold to him by way of a pissed-off merchant who had been tired of her meddling in his affairs. She'd apparently been the rebellious type and opinionated so the redhead man's father had seen his way to fixing that by way of physical force.
Slicking back his long red locks to get a good view of the beach he now stood amid, the redhead man felt the onset of the call of nature and as such adhered to it by way of pulling his impressively large cock from the confines of his dark brown trousers and promptly urinating on the formerly dry end of the beach causing the sand to puddle and the young women who had been still watching him, to gasp once more as they noted the massive man's enormous cock reddened and angry looking for the first time as the redhead man relieved himself before their curious young eyes.
The redhead man didn't care one way or another how uncivilized they thought him to have been at that moment. He had never been much for civility unless it suited his purposes. He could feel the stirring heat of rage a mile away and it only made him smirk while he opted to use his urine for lettering amid the sand.
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Elsewhere.....
All the commotion from the other young women from town had gotten the attention of a certain young elegantly dressed lass who seemed to not only know her way around the beach but who had been the youngest daughter of the man in charge of the island altogether. She had followed the other young women down toward the distant palms to have a look at the strange man they had been all chatting and giggling to themselves about while she looked on in confusion. It wasn't the first time she'd been let out of the loop and it wouldn't be the last as she'd been more or less the butt of many a joke when it came to her status as the Governor's daughter and she highly resented people keeping things from her because of it but said nothing. It had bothered her a great deal in her youth, but not so much when she'd been proud to uphold her family's honor in the wake of their duty to the island.
The elegantly dressed young lass had made her way down toward the distant palms as she noted the other girls had all flocked there still giggling and whispering among themselves about the events taking place on the beach.
Across the bushes from the rugged redhead stranger's location, the blazing sapphire eyes of a young woman with supple mocha-colored flesh wearing a dark green dress of refined cloth and elegant make barely the age of sixteen had been staring at the large half-naked red-haired man who had gone about urinating along HER beach with disregard for any sort of civilized manner.
The elegantly dressed sixteen-year-old growled as she stepped from the bushes and made her way toward the strange man her rage burning inside her young chest just beneath the elegantly tucked and impressively large lightly tanned breasts amid the white lace trimmings of the top of her dress. She had been propelled by sheer indignation as she made her way down the slope of the bushes and toward the beach where she'd been greeted by the salt sea air, the blazing heat of the sun, as well as the stench of washed-up seaweed, and rather potent urine from the strange redhead brute that dared to invade her family's long protected shores.
"JUST WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?" she growled in a rather surprisingly fluent English dialect.
The redhead brute had smirked as he continued to urinate along the formerly white sand.
"Nothing much, just writing my name," he replied his voice a deep baritone rasp that gave her the impression that he'd been more animalistic than sensible.
"Writing your name in foul-smelling urine along my beach!?" asked the elegantly dressed young lass narrowing her blue eyes at the larger brute before her. "Are you some kind of uncivilized savage!?"
Up close he could see her well-tended curly black locks that draped down her shoulders and the reflection of her family's apparent vast wealth along these shores by way of the string of pearls around her neck and the bracelet on her elegant right arm. He had not been much for treasures of any sort these days, as his days and nights of endless treasure hunting had brought him only death and loneliness.
He stood with his muscled ripped legs spread apart while holding his impressive angry red cock with ease in one of his large pale hands not at all bothering to tuck it back in as he noted how uncomfortable the formal little princess of the Isle had been when trying to avoid looking at it.
"Well when you gotta go, you gotta go." replied the redhead brute as he stood with his cock throbbing in the wake of being so free and out in the open even with his large pale hand seemingly strangling it as he stood allowing the last few drops of his urine to litter the already wet sand.
She'd taken notice of it and rolled her eyes again despite being caught off guard by him and his massive size.
He wasn't the first man to try and flash her due to being a savage, Although he certainly was the largest she'd ever seen and quite close up. She cleared her throat indicating that she wanted him to put it away and he smirked before shaking it twice and obliging tying the string on what was left of his worn brown trousers as he adjusted himself in her line of sight.
"All tucked in," he said with a wicked smirk.
The elegant young lass rolled her eyes, before noting that he'd urinated the letters for the name RUFUS along the now soggy sand.
"You-Your name's Rufus I take it?" she said not at all surprised about the savage implication behind the brute's name.
"Well ain't you an intelligent lass, can read and everything." said the redhead man known as Rufus still with the same grin. "I bet nothing gets by you, does it, Princess?"
The elegant lass once more rolled her eyes at the absurd nickname he'd called her.
"Well, Rufus...you are trespassing on my family land," she said becoming indignant and duty-bound once more. "What have you to say for yourself for this atrocity you've committed?"
"I didn't see your name on it," he replied looking over the beach. "And even so ain't like I had much choice with the storm blowing me in your direction and whatnot."
As the two of them more or less chatted on the beach amid high winds and crashing waves, a group of armed patrol men belonging to the regiment sent by her evidently powerful and overprotective father had stormed the beach and immediately surrounded the redhead half-naked man known as "Rufus" with impressively well-loaded muskets and determined looks in their collective eyes as they aimed at him.
He put up his hands and stood very still despite being more or less unimpressed by their number and the grade of their aged-looking weapons. His now dark brown eyes had fallen toward the elegant lass they simply stood there unable to tear their respective gazes away from one another as if locked in a silent stalemate of some sort. The redhead brute simply shrugged after a while as she glared at him once more indignant and moody about his being on her family's island.
"Well Mr. Rufus, it seems my father would like a word with you," she said pleased the cavalry had arrived.
Rufus seemed to be more or less unphased and even less surprised.
"Well, lead the way, Princess," he said as politely as he could manage with the guns drawn on him as he moved in step with the young lass' demands.
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Sometime Later...
Prison Cell, Unknown Location, Unknown World...
A chill filled the cramped grey cell that the half-naked redhead man known as Rufus found himself kept in until further notice following his being escorted toward a large castle in the center of the island where a large town had been built and people seemed to thrive. He noted they had spoken French and seemed more or less out of touch with the world aside from occasional import and export deals with traveling merchants. Everyone had been more or less as light-toned as the lass or darker given their dialect but no one had looked even remotely like Rufus, who seemed even more of an outcast among them as he was escorted down the vast staircase of the castle toward the dungeons and his newfound prison cell.
He'd been quite invested in his new dwelling when the large wooden door opened and the footsteps of a visitor had come to see him. He turned his attention to the guest as another of his sly smirks filed across his rugged red-bearded face.
"Well...well...well...look who it is?" he said with an arched brow as a thin veil of charm.
The smoldering sapphire eyes of the apparent island princess had narrowed as she held out a wooden plate with whatever slop they elected to serve him in terms of appearing civilized before having his chat with her father.
"Brought you something to eat," she said more or less trying to keep civility between them, he'd been an overly large brute after all. "It isn't much but..."
She placed the wooden plate between the steel bars of his new prison cell beneath her father's castle and the man known as Rufus took it without fuss, his blue eyes appeared grateful as he had not eaten in quite some time given his being shipwrecked. She had barely any time to blink before he wolfed down the meal no questions asked and handed her back the now empty wooden plate.
"Do you have any more?" he asked apparently not being picky with his pallor in terms of food. "It wasn't half bad."
"That was...rather quick." said the young lass amazed. "How do you know it wasn't poisoned?"
Rufus smirked once more with more confidence than the young lass had ever seen in anyone let alone a prisoner before.
"Civilized people would never resort to such barbaric tactics," he replied still smiling at her with his yellowed and numerous teeth. "Besides poison won't do you much good when it comes to me."
He stepped away from the bars and sat back against the cold gray stone wall that lined the back of his cell. He could hear the waves of the ocean beating against what he knew to have been a heavily enforced rock-side cliff. It had been not so unlike the cliff of his homeland where he'd grown up as a lad with the smell of the ocean in his nostrils since he'd taken his first breath.
"Reminds me of the battering shores of Ireland this place of yours," he said in something of a nostalgic tone. "Me first recollected sounds had been of the sea, and then of my mother's tears."
The elegant young lass had thought it tragic that the man Rufus had been so far from his homeland.
"Why was your mother crying?" she asked with an arched brow.
"Well I wish I could tell ya it was my ugly mug that got her eyes all watered but it wasn't the case," replied Rufus leaning his head against the stonewall as he closed his eyes and sighed. "Da was a real piece of work in those days, battered her day and night like the sea against the shores of the town, and then he battered me until I couldn't take his battering no longer and I being the weak lad that I was back than fled his hand and ended up on a ship that took off to sea, been at sea ever since."
The elegant Lass had been at a loss for words, she'd also been quite confused that the strange brute elected to share such a painful part of his past with her of all people and he had not even known her name or where he'd been imprisoned.
"Who are you really, Rufus?" she asked meeting his gaze from the other side of the bars.
"I'm just a prisoner of sand and time," he replied before closing his eyes once more. "No need to concern yourself with me Lass, I mean you no harm...I'm just passing through...rolled in with the tide and it won't be long before I roll out again...it's my way and all that."
"Well, you won't be going anywhere until my father has a say in it." replied the elegant lass turning toward the door as she grabbed the wooden plate he'd left for her. "He'll want to ask you a few questions about how you ended up on our island in the first place."
"As I said, I'm a prisoner of sand and time," he replied before she walked toward the large and heavy oak wood door in a bid to take her leave of him.
She stopped in her tracks recalling their previous discussion about civility.
"My name's Claira by the way," she said rather sternly recalling her aversion to the absurd nickname he used for her in place of her real name when they met. "Not Princess."
"As you say, Miss," replied Rufus proving that he can be civilized after all. "As you say."
She took her leave of him at last closing and locking the large and heavy oak wood door behind her while Rufus once again sat with his head pressed back against the cold stonewall opting for a bit of shade as his mind traveled back in time with the sounds of the waves beating against the Cliffside to another place in time and long before he had gotten into this mess.
He'd been a boy then, just an unimpressive thin lad from a small coastal village and terrified of leaving it.
A NUMBER OF YEARS EARLIER...