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A Seafaring SagaChapter 20: The Apple-Tart
When Targon awoke he was flying. Spinning and hurtling out of control through the air. He felt he as headed in a rather easterly direction though he didn’t know why. And now he began to wonder how he had gotten into such a state. The answer was all too clear to Targon.
“What am I? Some kind of clown, used for your amusement? Curse you gre--”
But at that moment Targon hit the water. He wasn’t sure but he thought that he skipped at least twice across the foamy waves. Needless to say, it didn't feel good. But he was comforted in the end as he sank beneath the waves, by a sweet strain of music. A song he recalled from his childhood played on a fiddle.
Morning dawned bright over the southern sea. And the sun’s shining rays pried open the eyes of the weary sleeper snoring away on the deck of the small trading scow. These eyes belonged to Targon. Targon, who was still alive somehow, even after the events of the previous night. But of course you already knew that. After all there’s a reason they call him indestructible.
But where was he? Targon would have liked to know that himself as his eyes flickered open. By the rolling feeling he had in his stomach he could guess that he was on a ship. But there was more…a strange music filled his ears as he sat up and scratched his head.
“What?”
It was bandaged. Slowly Targon noticed his surroundings, but not before noticing the song accompanying the notes in his ears.
“Weeeeel all a ye gather round tae me,
An suren I’m like ta tell,
The tale o’ bountiest treasure there be,
Since the trove of ol’ Ben McKnel,
There isinna a map can lead ye there,
For always tis moven’ ‘round,
An’ there isna ship can speed ye there,
Without being turned around,
I winna say if it’s gems er gold,
But only where ye can start,
Fer greatest o’ treasures is here in the hold,
O’ the scow by the name Apple-Tart!”
To Targon’s surprise, he found himself on a crowed deck, surrounded by every pirate he’d ever seen on the Mantis and a large group of Crusaders too. They were all staring up onto the roof of the cabin where a strange looking man was singing and fiddling his like mad as he wove a jig on the shingles. They all seemed entranced by the spry old man. And now as Targon looked on, he felt the same.
An’ what be this treasure I’ve got in me hold,
phone mp3 An’ what do ye ask is it worth,
Well tisn’t doubloons an’ it sure tisn’t gold,
It’s the pertiest treasure on earth,
It’s a couple o’ this an a couple o’ that,
Wit’ a few little trinkets between,
Wit’ a knick,
An’ a knack,
An’ a trick,
An’ a tack,
An’ the pertiest bobbles ye’ve seen,
You sir dowrn there wit the howlerd out eye,
An nerey a tooth in yer head,
I’ve got a whole set a new teeth ye can buy,
An’ a eyepiece o’ Marble instead,
An mister O’Brien yes mister O’Brien,
Where be it ye’re wishin tae be,
But mister O’Brien yeer men would be dyin’,
If not fer the fishin o’ me,
Fer dear mister Smythe didna like tae be hung,
So he sets the up the ship tae explode,
Then ye’re all treadin water til I come along,
An’ added ye all tae me load,
But dinna ye worry ‘bout payin’ me back,
Fer it tisn’t na trouble tae me,
If only ye’ll promise me not tae attack,
An’ allow me tae pitch this tae ye,
Now this here’s a bit o’ me magical cream,
Fer fixin what wounds ye might halve,
An now that ol’Dragon knight looks like a dream,
Instead some poor butchered calf!”
Targon reached up and removed his bandages as Taylor went on with his pitch. What he felt was unbelievable. It was his head…in one piece. As the merchant rambled on, showcasing one particular trinket, then another, Targon began to examine his surroundings. He was on a vessel, albeit a rather small and crowded one. It was a strange sort of scow, with some sort of steering mechanism in the front and a cabin near the back with some sort of calliope in front of it. Behind this -- and it was without a doubt the strangest thing Targon had ever seen -- was a spinning mill wheel that seemed to be propelling the ship northward.
The crazy man fired up the calliope now to aid him in his spiel, but he set aside the fiddle and whatever trance it held over the men onboard faded. Crusaders exchanged intense looks with the surrounding pirates. Targon wagered the only reason they weren’t killing each other was because they didn’t have any weapons. That, and the fact that they weren’t quite sure what to make of their current situation.
Targon wasn’t sure what to make of it either. They were stuck on a tiny ship with a man who was obviously crazy. Either that or maybe just excessively helpful and trusting. But Targon had little time to think on this for his mind soon turned itself to another matter.
“Smythe!”
Sydney jumped and whirled around at the sound of the terrifying voice behind him.
“Where’s my rock?” the infuriated Dragon Master asked through his teeth as he bore down on the smaller pirate.
“Now don’t look at me Targon. Burtrand’s got the stone and he’s gone!”
“What? What do you mean, gone?” Targon fumed.
Smythe continued to explain what had happened after Targon had blacked out on the Mantis.
“I’d like to get back at ‘im same as you.” the pirate finished, “It ain’t fittin’ fer a cap’ain to leave his crew in the lurch like 'e did. Not that I’m too concerned about finding him right now. We’re in enough trouble right here.”
“What do ya mean?”
“Ye don’t know where we are do ye? This here’s the Apple-Tart, captained by the infamous Taylor Road. Aye, he’s a legend among we piratey folks. The one trader who’s managed ta keep his ship from ever being pillaged. Not even once in forty years! They say if ye even try ta get ‘im he’ll whip out his magic fiddle an’ put ye in a trance. Aye, next thing ye know, ye’re singing ‘is tune an salut’n ‘is ship as ye watch it sail off inter the distance. An’ what’s more, after that ye’ll be cursed fer a good month. An’ ye’ll be so unlucky that ye won’t be able to pillage so much as a pile of driftwood. Aye, that’s why my men haven’t been misbehaving er fighting with the Crusaders, even though we outnumber em. They’re scared ya see.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Targon exclaimed, “I think I’ll have a word with our captain.”
But Targon’s word would have to wait for at that moment Taylor hopped down to the deck and declared, “Land ho! Weeel gentlemen welcome tae Port…eh…Weel Port sompen er other.”
The good ship Apple-Tart was pulling into Port Sompenerother even as Taylor Road addressed his audience.
“This’ll be where ye’re getting’ off me good Mister O’Brien. Here’s a flask o’ me special beer to share with ye’re men an’ a bit o’ foot cream fer ye’re --” Taylor leaned in and raised his hand to the side of his mouth, “Weel fer your fungus problem.”
O’Brien raised his eyebrows in shock as Taylor winked and leaned back.
“Just a minute.” said the Crusader, “What about these Pirates?”
Taylor turned on his heel to look at the large group of pirates crowding his rather small deck.
“I’ll tell ye what lads, ye can either go with mister O’Brien here an’ deal with the knights o’ Knights Kingdom, er ye can sign on as me crew an’ come with me fer now.”
Peggy looked at Marble-eye as the rest of the pirates exchanged glances. They all knew what their answer would be and so did Taylor.
“Weel then O’Brien I think ye must be gang.” The tradesman said, hustling the Crusaders onto the docks, “But before ye go…”
He leaned again, into the Crusader’s ear.health career training “Ifin ye want tae find the girl ye’d best ask around here. I ken this here’s where they came ashore but beyond that I canna say. Goo-luck tae ye.”
“Now wait a bloody minute!” said Targon, who had overheard the conversation, “If Burtrand’s here then I’m gettin off too. He’s got somthin that belongs to me.
“Ye would do very weel Mister Targon,” said Taylor Road looking up into the Dragon Master’s eyes. “to not think so much aboot that wee little rock.”
Targon glared. He felt that this pipe-puffing merchant would soon find himself being hurled across the dock and into the murky water beside behind it. This never came about, however for suddenly…something told Targon not to do it and he thought better of it. The Dragon Master backed off and without another word, Taylor reversed the paddlewheel and set them to leaving the shore.
Meanwhile, on the wharf, O’Brien stood scratching his head. What did the man mean “this is where they came ashore”? If he was speaking of Burtrand and the princess it hardly seemed possible. Now, as he watched, the ship leaving the harbor he caught a glimpse of the captain waving to him and heard his booming voice come sailing back over the water.
“Keep good track o’ that beer, O’Brien. It’s a wee bit o’ a brake-through recipe I designed meself. The first ever made out o’ dried kelp.”
“An’ now,” said Taylor, whipping out his fiddle and turning to the pirates, “ifin ye’ll all take ear, I’d like tae hear what ye think of this new tune I’m workin’ on. Me very own version o’ The Seas o’ Caggarin.”
Weel as I sailed out on a bright day morn,
Blue an’ bloomin’ were the skies,
I chanced to drift some miles from home,
An’ found a sight before me eyes,
Weel I tacked my ship to the starboard side,
Faced my stern tae the land I knew,
I asked the mist an’ asked the tide,
What is this place that I come to,
An they said….
Cheer up me lad,
Yet your heart never fail,
For ye’ve found the seas o’ Caggarin,
Where the bold an’ free do sail,
Weel I turned me bonnie ship around,
Intae the waves, intae the wind,
I gave me pipes a blast o’ sound,
An’ sailed the seas o’ Caggarin,
Weel I wish me friend that ye could get,
Tae the sea where fare wind flies,
Where never does the sun there set,
Nor darkness ever fill the skies,
An’ it’s cheer up me lads,
Let your hearts never fail,
For ye’ve found the seas o’ Caggarin,
Where the bold an’ free do sail!”
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