“Perce, to your left!”
The warning came without a moment of hesitation on Marianna’s part. With her sword, she spun and swung it in an ascending arch to clash against Phillip’s opposing blade. The force of the older man’s attack nearly brought a grimace from Marianna, but she bit it back. With her foot she aimed her kick at his ankle, which caused him to stagger. She took the opportunity to swipe her foot in a wide arch around his ankles, and watched as he collapsed on his rear.
Her sword was still in ready position, and a good thing too. In the next moment Edward had called Andrew, a mate only two years Marianna’s senior, and they locked into battle.
In the past three months that preceded their wreck on the island, Marianna had trained fiercely with her weapons whenever the chance was given. The crew had taken notice at the seventeen-year-old’s dedication to her blade, and had quickly jumped in. Turns would be taken until she was drenched in sweat and could fight no longer. They had been surprised though, at how quickly her skills were coming along. She had pristine instincts that allowed her to create her own methods of defense and offense while also keeping in mind the knowledge that her peers had gifted to her.
She used her agility and flexibility to her advantage almost instantaneously. She would bend at odd angles that the crew would grimace at, then right herself and strike without even taking notice.
In fact, as soon as Andrew had leapt into battle to strike, she bent backward to dodge the thrust of his blade. She up righted herself once more and twirled in a blurry three-sixty to build up momentum, which would turn into force when she swung her blade. And it did just that. She tucked her arms close, then spun, ending the move by lashing out with her charged sword and slamming it against Andrew’s blade. The momentum and raw strength (though lesser than his) managed to knock the blade from his grip, and let it soar through the air to land up right in the sand a few meters away.
Andrew stood stunned at the attack. Marianna’s breath came out in heavy bursts due to her absolute fatigue from her constant exertion.
Edward let out a low whistle. “That one’s new.”
“Thanks for noticing.” Marianna straightened from her position, sheathing her blade as she did so. She lifted the front of her shirt to wipe her sweat-bathed brow, and then tucked in a piece of chestnut hair back underneath the scarlet cloth tied around her head. It concealed her hair’s length, which had recently grown an inch or two in length. She’d have to cut it soon, she realized.
“You’ve come along nicely.” Phil said as he rose to his feet and dusted off the sand.
“Aye. Your stamina is impressive.” Edward added, to which Marianna tipped her head in thanks.
She chuckled lightly at their praise. “Flattery will get you nowhere, lads. But your thanks is appreciated, nonetheless.”
The members in the circle sheathed their weapon. With a slight shake of the head and a chuckle of disbelief, Andrew strode along the sand to retrieve his blade. As Phillip and Edward returned to camp, Marianna watched the second youngest crew mate.
“It’s not my place to say,” she called out, drawing the boy’s attention. “But your grip is loose.” She strode over to the younger one with a warm smile, to which he met with a determined brow.
“Aye, Capt- I mean, Perce.”
She blinked for a moment, taken aback by his slip of the tongue. Captain? Did he really mean to say that?
She shoved it off though, deciding that it would only be natural for him to slip up after months of her taking the position of one. Nonetheless, she wondered what Carlisle would say to such a slip of the tongue.
“I’m two years younger than you, Andy. So tell me if I’m overstepping my bounds by telling you this. I’ve only just started with working with swords myself, so it’s understandable if you’re uncomfortable with this.”
“Not at all, I’ve only just started myself.”
To this, Marianna’s brow shot up. During the months she’d known the crew, she hadn’t really gotten to know them. So far she believed Carlisle and Edward to be the two she knew most, and she hadn’t seen Carlisle for the past few months. And other than having the lads spar with her, or have them listen as she instructed them on the roles of the crew, she hadn’t truly spoken to them. Not in earnest.
“Truly?” She replied. “How long’ve you know Carlisle then?”
“Let me see… Two years I’d reckon, though it may be a bit less. He picked me up after he’d gotten the others. Saw me on the road and offered me a job. Nicest man I’d ever met.”
She bobbed her head along to him as he spoke, then her eyes wandered over to the camp. She slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get back so we can sit down. I’d like the hear a bit more about yourself, if you don’t mind, that is.”
“Not at all. Not at all.”
The two smiled at each other, and like old friends they made their way back to the camp. Of course significant upgrades had been made to their shelter. It had grown in size, allowing more space for sleeping as well as whatever supplies they decided to harvest and store away for later times. To accompany that, an efficient water source had been founded not too far from their campsite. Along with that, hunting and fishing had provided the small crew with three meals each day. Not to mention the trees were fruitful with sustenance to fill their bellies quickly.
They had made impressive progress when it came to adapting to their surroundings. Even the tropical storms (and there had been quite a few) were overcome with tact and skill. Destroyed shelters were quickly rebuilt and supplies would be restocked. The lot of them made an impressive team.
“Perce,” the familiar voice of another crewmate called. As she sat down on a log placed next to the softly burning fire, she turned her head to Connor. Next to him stood Phillip, both with weapons at the ready. “We’re going to head out for a hunt. Should be back tonight.”
To this she tipped her head again. “Good luck, lads. Make sure to bring us some good grub.”
Connor chuckled lightly. “Will do.” He said, then turned and made way into the palms of the forest. As Andrew took his spot beside her, watching the two disappear.
“So,” she finally turned to look at him again. “What’d you do before you joined the crew?”
“To be honest? Nothing. I sold trinkets and whatnot. My father was a blacksmith and whenever he finished a piece I’d deliver them to the soldiers. When there was nothing to deliver then I suppose I’d just make things. Sculptures and whatnot, then sell them to whoever thought they were worth buying.” He leaned back then, sighing. “Then one day this man walked up, and he looked at this ship replica I’d made. He said to me, ‘you want to sail a real one lad?’ and I said yes. Before I knew it, he was offering me a job. And without hesitation, I said yes. Best deal of my life.”
Marianna let a light chuckle ease from her throat, and a smile smooth her facial features. “That does seem like a Carlisle thing to do.”
“Well, it’s actually not like him to take on those he doesn’t trust. He’d actually been watching me for a while before offering me a spot on the crew. Which,” he turned to Marianna as he spoke. “Is why it was so strange when he allowed you into the crew.”
“I understand that. More than you’d think, actually.”
He tilted his head. “Oh, really?”
“Mm. I believe it to be the reason he’d made me Quartermaster. I was thrust upon him suddenly with only his Uncle’s words of reassurance. At least, I hope that’s what they were. He probably wanted to keep an eye on me… Or something. What other reason would he have for naming a seventeen year old boy his Quartermaster, hmmm?”
The words took Andrew by surprise, but then he began to see. There was logic behind her reason, and if Carlisle’s reasoning was genuine, then he could also the reasoning behind that as well. But Marianna was young, the youngest… To be honest, the entire crew had sour thoughts about it when they first heard of her new position. Why this new member whom they knew nothing about? Surely Edward would’ve been the first choice, or even Connor. Each man had some sort of tie to Carlisle, except for Marianna.
“I’m not Quartermaster because I deserve the role, but more so because I’m untrusted. These past few months it has been all I thought about before I fall asleep. So far I have thought of no other reason for Carlisle to do such a thing.”
“You’re a good Quartermaster, Perce. You’re a born leader.”
Marianna turned her gaze to the ground, chuckling lightly to herself once again. This situation was becoming a bit too… Awkward for her taste.
“Remember what I said earlier, Andy?”
“Hmm?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
That night the remainder of the crew awaited the return of their hunters. With their bellies growling something fierce, they hungrily sat by the fire.
Marianna was one of the only of them who wasn’t complaining about the hunger. Beside her Edward remained silent, no doubt sharing the same worries as she.
Connor and Phillip had been out far too long for something to not have gone wrong, but Marianna and Edward thought better than to tell that to the crew. It would only cause a ruckus through their worry. Instead Edward cleared his throat.
“Best dig something out of storage to have for tonight. The two of them are probably gonna have a late-“
The sound of twigs snapping suddenly drew their attentions to the woods, and caused Edward’s sentence to end abruptly. They all waited tensely as the sounds grew nearer, until a shape suddenly burst from the darkness of the foliage. Instantly weapons were being drawn without a moment’s worth of hesitation.
“Wait! Don’t attack, it’s me! It’s Phil!”
Marianna plunged her weapon back into her sheath, being the first to run forward to the panic stricken lad. She assessed him in the darkness, just barely managing to make out the scrapes and bruises along his flesh. With a hand on his shoulder, she guided him to the light of the fire.
“What the hell happened to you mate? Where’s Connor?”
He turned to Marianna with the widest of eyes, fear stricken. Every muscle in his body looked as if it were tense and coiled, ready for anything that would suddenly pop out from the brush.
“There are people on this island, Perce. They took Connor prisoner. They- I followed them after mate, and you should’ve seen what I saw…”
Marianna set the shaken sailor on the log where she had previously sat. Over her shoulder she quickly called an order for water before turning back to him.
“What’d you see? And where is Connor?”
“They’re fucking cannibals, Perce. They’re going to eat him, damn it! You should’ve seen them! Ripping into the flesh of limbs of dead people. We’re going to be-“
Hands slapped down on Phillip’s shoulders, pulling his face an inch apart from Marianna’s. She stared at him for a moment, her nails digging painfully into his back. He was aware the other’s couldn’t see her discreet action, but holy hell, he could feel it. Although, it wasn’t quite the pressure in his back that alarmed him, but more so the way the firelight lit her face, illuminating the silent threat in her eyes. The silent threat that said, ‘tell me where my comrade is, or I will not hesitate to kick your arse’.
“Do I need to hit you, or are you good?” Sheepishly, Phillip nodded and paid no mind the pulsating pain from his shoulder blades.. “Now tell us where Connor was taken. I don’t give two shits what happened; just tell us where he is. We are getting him tonight and I don’t want to waste a damn second of his time.”
Still taken aback by her action, he bobbed his head. “I- I can show you.” He reached toward the fire and snapped a twig from the flames, using it to draw a simple map in the sand of the location in his thoughts.
He drew it quickly, pointing out the miscellaneous buildings in the cannibal’s campsite, followed by the appropriate path to lead them there. Once it had been drawn out appropriately, Marianna turned to the map.
She gestured to the edge of the small site. “It’s too risky to launch an outright attack. Therefore we’ll need to use the night to our advantage. We’ll have to sneak in and sneak out since we’re too in the dark to know anything at the moment. You hear?”
They all bobbed their head in response.
She continued. “It’s obvious I’m not educated in the art of forming a battle plan, so I want to hear all of your thoughts. And make it quick.”
Edward, being the only one to have gotten over her sudden sense of authority, was the first to speak. “I agree with you. However, who should be the one to sneak in and rescue Connor?”
At that notion, silence only pursued. Who would be the ones to downright risk their life to save him? It had to be someone who was small and nimble, who hardly made a noise with each footstep. Someone easily concealed in the dark…
“I’ll do it, you lot of ninnies.” Marianna scowled at the rest, knowing that she was only speaking their thoughts. She turned to Edward. “How would you have me do this?”
Edward paused in thought, then, as a strange look came across his eyes, he leaned forward with a hushed voice. “I have an idea.”
Marianna could hardly hear the sounds of the trees above the blood roaring in her ears. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest, and the feeling of light headedness all but consumed her in that moment.
Could she do this? Could she really sneak into a camp of cannibal island aboriginals and rescue one of her own? She hardly knew if she was capable of it, even though she had seemed confident before, now all she could comprehend was the doubt that coursed through her. The life of the crew was in her sweaty palms once again.
Phillip had been leading them toward the approximate destination for the past thirty minutes. Everyone had been armed to the teeth and nails, prepared for a battle if one were to break out. They were a courageous bunch, having had years of sailing to bond and form deep ties of loyalty to each other.
“There, it’s right there.” Phillip gestured ahead of them, motioning for the group to come to a stop. They froze instantly as though expecting screaming cannibals to come bursting through the trees to attack them. It took them a moment to gather their wits after the surprise of Phillip’s voice. Once they found their heart beats ease, their eyes wandered to the spot in which he pointed. Ahead of them, as could be seen through the foliage, were a series of large huts with straw roofing. Of course, had it been completely dark outside, they would not have been able to see as many details as they did, but due to the large fire in the middle of the miniscule village- if that’s what it could be distinguished as- they could make out nearly all their eyes needed to see.
Thanks to the illuminating flame they could also see the shadows and figures circling the mountainous fire, which billowed with smoke. Though most of that smoke could have likely been their own… Herbal concoctions. It was hardly uncommon. They danced around the fire as though worshipping the fierce heat that emanated from it, clad in only loin clothes and odd jewelry and black tribal tattoos that covered their bodies.
“They’re fuckin’ mad, mate.” Andrew muttered, causing Alexander to thwack him as silently as he could with his hand. He got the message, and went silent. His eyes turned back to the outrageous scene before them.
Marianna ignored Andrew’s outburst, instead straining her eyes in attempt to find her missing crewmate. There was every possibility that they could be containing him within the walls of one of their huts, but if what Phillip said was right, then he-
Her thoughts ceased. In that moment she noticed a wriggling shadow just outside of the fire’s light. He appeared to be bound and gagged, and most of his clothes had been stripped from his body. He appeared muddy, but Marianna squinted, and soon realized that it was definitely not mud that covered him.
Quite pale now, Marianna reached forward and shook Edward’s shoulder, pointing in the direction of their prisoner crewmate. He took note of Connor nearly instantly, and the two exchanged a look. Edward’s hand rested on Marianna’s shoulder, before giving her a nod, as though signifying good luck, then let his hand drop as she began to creep through the foliage.
She was fortunate that the sound of the singing and dancing at the fire muffled most of the noise of the night, that way her chances of rescuing Connor would be considerably raised.
It felt like an age before Marianna found herself nearing his form, and by then she could see well enough in the dark to notice that his head was lolling to the side, as though he was trying to remain conscious.
Hold on. She thought to herself as she crept to the edge of the bushes, and crouched. Those at the fire were the only enemies in sight, and she prayed, oh she prayed, that they would not take notice as she crept from the foliage.
Connor was leaning just against of the huts in the shadows, which most made Marianna’s job much easier. Swallowing whatever fear somersaulting within her, she left her cover and quietly snuck toward Connor. The antagonizing horror that coursed through her veins was indescribable, and it shook her hands, made her knees wobble, and made her belly feel as though it was being filled with ice-cold water.
It was another age later- or so it felt- that she came within reaching distance of her comrade. Lightly, she shook his shoulder, causing him to lift his head and stare drowsily at her.
She didn’t say a word, too frightened that the cannibals would discover her position. Instead she simply began untying Connor’s binds, and praying he wouldn’t make a sound in his dazed stupor.
And luckily, he didn’t, but for some reason, luck was not on her side that night.
She managed to haul him to his feet, and send him in the direction of the foliage, but Connor’s footfalls were heavy, and suddenly those at the fire felt the need for their prisoner, and eyes trained on their position.
There was a cry of alarm from one of the males, and he wasted no time charging at Marianna with his makeshift spear raised to impale her. She only barely had enough time to shove Connor into the trees, calling out “Run!” before she unsheathed her scabbard and parried her opponent’s attack. It was then that she realized, as she felt the brute force of her enemy against her sword, that her opponent was not skilled in hand to hand combat. In fact, she rather easily manipulated her opponent’s strength, suddenly releasing her block, and causing him to fall forward.
And then, without a hesitation and without giving him a chance to react, she plunged she sword deep into his back.
The blade made a grotesque squelch sound as it slid through his flesh, ending his life within moments. That was the moment that Marianna realized what it was like the feel another’s life being sucked out of them through her own actions. She felt the man before her die all through her sword, shuddering as the feeling made it’s way through her arm and into her entire being.
What was she supposed to feel? Racking guilt? Pity? Remorse?
She felt none of those things in that instant. Marianna only felt the need to save the crew that had been assigned to her, and with that thought in mind, she turned and faced those that had captured Connor.
Sporting spears, they launched themselves at her with ferocious battle cries. They launched their weapons through the air at her, but she only just managed to avoid the stone spear tips by rolling forward and dodging them. When she rose to her feet, they were right before her, foolishly weaponless as their only means of defense lay behind Marianna.
And then Marianna growled. It was like an explosion had erupted within her, shattering all resolve she had, and launching her into a terrifying frenzy. Perhaps it was the due to the adrenaline pumping through her veins, or the unsolved emotion going through her at her first kill, but the tumult of sheer uncontrollable emotion was vicious, and it was rising to the surface.
She let out a battle cry, and charged forward, and her crew waiting in the forest took that as a signal, then they too burst from the trees.
They were all locked in furious battle, their swords slipping between rib cages to pierce the hearts of their enemies, or their boots slamming into the guts and groins of the twisted cannibals.
Marianna had charged at her foe, sword in hand, and dealt unbridled blows as they attempted to duck and dodge her speedy attacks. Eventually her sword pierced flesh, and she moved on to the next. This time though, her opponent had a weapon. Her burly opponent withdrew a dagger from the cloth dangling from his hips, and faced Marianna. She instantly took in his broad shoulders, the muscles that flexed in his arms and thighs, and the scowl he sent her way. In the light that was next to her, she could see the pointed ends of the cannibal’s teeth, purposely sharpened to tear through the flesh of his prey…
Her adrenaline flared, and she did not waste a moment before lunging forward to attack.
But she had made a mistake.
The cannibal laughed- laughed at her as she charged forward like a tiny bullet, but lacking the lethality. With his dagger he managed to block her sword, then slammed his shoulder into her side and knock her into the dirt. Her back collided with an audible ‘thud’, followed by the horrible crack as her skull crashed into the dirt next. Stars began to dance before her eyes, and darkness swelled in the corners of her vision. She foolishly attempted to stand, but her foe was right there to send his foot down on her gut.
The air was forced out of her lungs, and she could almost feel her innards being crushed between the brutal weight of her foe. For a moment she contemplated what to do, but then the cannibal leaned down to sneer at her, speaking in an unknown language that seemed blurry to her ears.
His hot breath perspired on her face, and she turned her head to the side in distaste, baring her throat to him. He took this as a signal, and raised his dagger.
Am I really going to let this pig end my life? She thought to herself. It should be my decision, shouldn’t it?
Her eyes followed along as the dagger met its precipice high above the cannibal’s head. Then, she laughed.
You just lost this fight, you piece of shit.
The man did not pause at the sound of her laughter, but instead proceeded to bring the dagger down with all his might.
And then Marianna rolled to the side at the last moment, retrieving her sword from the ground and bringing it up. The man’s eyes widened in shock as his dagger sunk into the dirt, and not the chest of his foe, where it proceeded to get stuck within. He attempted to free the dagger from the ground, but Marianna had already risen to her feet.
She cocked her head to the side, clicking her tongue. “You snooze, you lose, mate.” And she proceeded to bring the blade down on her foe’s neck.
Off came his head from his shoulders, which both collapsed to his ground. His expression, as his face rolled to face the canopies above, was one of pure horror.
“… Holy shit, Percy.”
Marianna blinked, suddenly stumbling messily out of her stupor. Her eyes suddenly comprehended the scene before her, and her sword fell to the dirt with a clatter.
She stared for the longest time at the destruction she’d caused, as well as the bodies of those around her that her own crew had dealt with.
Her gut ached, her head sparked with ecstatic pain, and her emotions suddenly blew into her with such sheer force, she felt like breaking down right there next to the head of her slain foe. With a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to Edward and spoke.
“Why did I do that?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
DO NOT claim the contents of this story for your own. All rights and claims go to myself and those that have helped me write this thus far. Do not copyright this text, otherwise there will be consequences.
Special thanks to my editor, ThouArtPenguin for the mending of this story.
For some reason writing battle sequences is just very... Amusing to me. I like the action, and like making the character fight valiantly or- in Marianna's case- in a blinding rage. What'd you guys think of that? Too much? I tried to make it subdued a bit, but I think my excitement over the fight is sort of clouding my judgement.