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A Seafaring SagaChapter 15: Targon In Trouble
“How’s our speed Mr. Sourbuckle?” Burtrand ascended to the upper deck after giving his orders.
“Fourteen knots Cap’in sir. Quite a good clip for a vessel like this un. We’re being aided by the Westward Current no doubt.”
“Good, keep up the speed as long as ye can. What we’re feeling now are only the front runners of the storm I’ll wager. There’s a mighty gale brewing behind it if those clouds are any sign. The island might buy us some time by stalling the storm, but after that it’ll be on us like shark on a turtle. Aye, an’ we ain’t got a shell.”
“Captain!” said Smythe, pulling him away from the helm, “What’re we gonna do about the Targon? He’s gonna find out about the rock pretty soon.”
“Arr, we’ll worry about that when we some to it Sydney.”
But they didn’t have to wait long, for at that moment Targon appeared on the deck. He was deathly pale, and his voice, which was already gruff from the wound Rosa gave him, was even more hoarse.
“Storm-Rider! Storm-Rider, where are you?”
“What is it, Targon?” said Burtrand, keeping one hand firmly on his saber.
“That man, the one they just threw overboard, who was he?”
“Slitcherd? Bah, nothi’n more then a slimy cur, that one.”
“Why was he killed?”
“Theft. He stole from me.”
Now Targon’s face seemed to grow even more pale.
“I think ‘e stole something from me too. Just this morning he bumped into me in the way you might if ya wanted to pick a person’s pocket. I think ‘e had me rock. Please -- please tell me ya searched ‘is pockets before ya threw him off!”
Burtrand gave his first make a sideways glance before he answered and Smythe took the hint. “A rock ay? Aye, I think I might have seen sommet like that when I killed him. What did it look like?”
“Small, smooth, dark green! Give it back! Ya have ta give it back!”
The Dragon Master’s hand went to his sword but Burtrand didn’t flinch. Sydney Smythe was in position now, having slipped off to the side when Targon appeared. Now he jumped at Targon from behind, wrapping his arm around his neck and holding a cloth to Targon’s ugly face. There was a momentary struggle as Targon tried to free himself. He got out his sword but by then the cloth had taken it’s affects. The bulky form fell the deck coughing, “Hurrugh…mercury dust…hughh.”
“Throw him in with the others.” said Burtrand, standing over the fallen body. He reached into his pocket, feeling the little stone. Yes, things were indeed going his way.
Targon’s head hit the floor of the brig and he came to his senses. Or rather, he halfway did. Things were still a little blurry.
Mercury dust? he thought to himself, Since when did pirates carry mercury dust?
The Dragon Master could remember seeing a cloth with it used by Majisto on an unruly dragon once, but he’d thought that it was a wizard thing.
Well, who knows what holds these pirates have plundered. They might have things even rarer.
The Dragon Master heard the iron door slam behind him and suddenly he remembered his situation. They had his rock. These bloody Pirates had his rock! Or did they? Yes, they must have it or they wouldn’t have thrown him in the brig.
I’ll murder them! Targon seethed in his mind, I’ll slaughter every last one of those Megablox pirates!
Coughing, he tried to pull himself up. He was enraged now and no iron bars would hold him back. But Targon didn’t get very far. Before he had one knee underneath him he felt a cold metal bar in front of his neck, grinding into his windpipes. And with it an all-too familiar voice.
“So tell me, did they want to get you killed, or was there some other reason they threw you in with me?”
Rosa had been waiting for something when the pirates came down the steps. Waiting for her chance to escape. Well, she got something all right but it wasn’t her chance. There were too many pirates to think of an attack and besides, something else had her interest. That oaf, that big ugly man was being thrown in with her and the princess. Rosa could barely keep from revealing her piece of iron bar and jumping on the Dragon Master until the Pirates were out of sight. She knew she was getting the chance for vengeance thrown right in her lap.
Targon on the other hand, knew it was over the moment he felt the bar half way through his neck and heard the dreaded voice of that one-woman-killing-machine. And as such, he immediately started bemoaning his fate.
They come back. They always come back to haunt you. Even if you don’t kill them!
Targon knew that the air in his lungs would run short soon and that would be the end of it.
Oh and everything was going so well, too! This is all Bargon’s fault.
Ugh, and what an embarrassing way to go too.
Killed by a bar and a bloody woman!
Targon knew there was no talking his way out of this one. He couldn’t even breathe, much less speak. But as luck would have it, Targon had a brilliant idea right then and as last ditch effort, tried it.
Listen Lady, ya can kill me now, but then I won’t be able to help ya escape. Targon popped the words right into her head, like you can do in a short ranged teleharm.
Rosa dropped him. Partly out of surprise and partly because the Mantis had just hit a large swell right then. Targon slumped to the floor coughing and the bar rolled across the boards to Anastasia’s feet. The princess gingerly picked it up and looked at Rosa.
“You can’t kill him right, can you?” she said.
Targon lay on the floor gasping. The musty, rank air of the brig filled his lungs. Taking a breath had never felt so good.
Quick to the hop, Targon. he thought to himself, Get away ‘fore she finds her bar.
But just then the Dragon Master felt a sharp pain in his head and everything went black.
“You brute!” the princess screamed, “You evil, horrible villain!”
She laid another swing across the head of Targon’s lifeless form. “I didn’t do anything to deserve this! I want to go home!”
Another swing, tears streaming down her face.
“I want to see my parents! My mom and my dad!”
Another swing.
“Now I’ll never see them again because of you!”
She raised the bar again but this time Rosa stopped it. Targon’s head was a bloody mess. Even parts of his skull were showing. No doubt the girl would have smashed it in had Rosa not intervened.
“No, give it back!” Anastasia cried, trying to wrestle the bar from Rosa, “I’m going to kill him!”
At last she collapsed to the floor in a fit of sobs, leaving the bar in Rosa’s hand. She stared at it for a moment.
Did I just stop her from killing him? Rosa wondered, What was I doing? That isn’t like you, Rosa.
Then again, looking at the prostrate form of Targon, who could say if she really had stopped the girl from doing what she’d intended. A loud wail interrupted Rosa’s thoughts.
“Oh shut up!” she snapped at the girl.
At this, the girl’s face shot up from her hands with a look of contempt.
“Shut up?” she cried, “Shut up?! What if I don’t shut up? What if -- What if I decide to tell them about your little weapon? Why don’t you shut up? You’re a bully, you know that? Why, you’re no better then him!”
There are certain buttons you shouldn’t push on certain people and Anastasia had just pushed one. The very idea of being compared to that filthy man hit Rosa like a blow in the gut.
“What!!!” she exploded, “I wouldn’t even be in this mess if I hadn’t been trying to help you!”
In a furry she raised her hand to slap the impudent princess -- but stopped. Looking down at the defiant, unflinching face…it was like looking in a mirror. Suddenly Rosa felt again the cuffs and slaps she was dealt at the hands of the inn keeper and his wife. She turned away, clawing her fingers through her thick black hair.
“Tyco that girl for her timing! Now she grows an intellibricks personality!”
Rosa turned to Targon, looking for something to change her thoughts.
“Better make sure he’s dead.”
But at that moment they hit another swell. A big one that sent both Rosa and Anastasia to the floor. Rosa tasted blood. She pushed herself up and wiped her bleeding lip.
“Tyco!” she swore out loud.
“Tyco!” Anastasia repeated.
Rosa looked at her. The Crusader princess had seemed to completely change personalities. But she had no time to bother with that puzzle.
“Gimme my bar.” she snapped.
“Why?”
“I’m going to kill him.” Rosa raised a brow, “Or shall you?”
At that moment another swell swept into the Mantis, smashing the both of them to the floor. From somewhere above, a hatch burst open, and sea water flushed downward into the brig. Rosa and Anastasia came up sputtering. As the water swirled about them, Rosa felt something clunk against her leg. She picked it up. It was a ring of keys.
“Where’d you get those?” demanded Anastasia.
“Shut up.” Rosa snapped, and barging her way to the jail door, thrust a key into the lock. It fit. The door swung open.
“Yes!” Anastasia cried.
They both dashed out of the cell, feet slipping and sliding on the wet planks. They were just nearing the stairs that led through the open hatch and onto the deck when the world blew apart.
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