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A Seafaring SagaChapter 23: In An Inn
O’Brien ducked as he entered a tavern near the docks. Five of his men followed him in, the rest being split up to search for Burtrand.
“What am I doing?” O’Brien muttered to himself as he scanned the rowdy bar patrons, looking for Burtrand, “Following the lead of some crazy seaman…”
“Excuse me,” he said, approaching the bartender, “Have ya seen a pirate with a young girl around these parts?”
“Pirates?” said the flustered bartender slamming two mugs down in front of some thirsty customers, “No, I don -- Hey, put that down! Ya’re gonna break it’s antlers off!”
O’Brien turned to see who the man was shouting at. Some drunk hanging off of the stag head above the mantle. Indeed the whole bar was unusually rowdy.
“Sorry about that.” said the bartender, returning to O’Brien, “What was it ya wanted again? Somthin’ about a pirate? Oh, my name’s Yill by the way.”
“Pirate?” said a man a man sitting near by on a stool, “Who’s lookin’ for a pirate?”
“These men are.” said Yill, “Mr…oh, I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”
“O’Brien” said O’Brien, “And I’m looking for a pirate named Burtrand.”
“Hmmm…” the man on the barstool scratched his chin, “This Burtrand feller…was he sorta tall with a big moustache an’ a tricorn hat?”
“That sounds like him,” said O’Brien, “Did he have a girl with him?”
“Hurm, can’t say, though he did have somthin’ draped over his shoulder. I caught him on me ship this mornin’. Looked like he was trying to stow away or somthin’. I called for the guards but when I turned around he disappeared. I don’ know where he went but I can tell ya he ain’t on me ship. Not a corner did I leave unsearched when I went lookin’ for him.”
O’Brien was shocked. Could Burtrand really have escaped with the princess and gotten to shore? But O’Brien’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a shout from the front door.
“Bobart! Where are ya? Show yarself ya bloody PIRATE!”
Yill looked at the newcomer and groaned.
“Who’s that?” O’Brien inquired.
“Don’t pay any attention ta him.” said the bartender.
“Yeah” said the man on the barstool, raising his hand to shield his face, “That there’s Skarp, the village idiot. A kegger in the worst sense of the word. Though I ‘d like to know what he wants with me.”
“What? You’re the Bobart fellow he’s lookin’ for?”
“Captin’ Bobart actually but don’t say it too loudly. I’d like ta have this drink in peace.”
It was too late however, for the swaggering man had already found the captain and was making straight for him.
“BOBART!!” he called, eyes flaming, “Where’s yar son?”
“What?” said the captain “What do ya want with him?”
“What do I want with him?” the crazed drunkard shouted, taking a stool beside Bobart, “The bloody tyco stole mah fishin’ boat that’s what!!”
“Ah please.” said Bobart, turning away, “Ya prob’ly jus’ got drunk and forgot ta tie it up.”
“DRUNK!!?? Drunk!!?? Well awright maybe I did have one ta many. But is that any reason far yar son ta steal ma boat while I’m sleepin’.”
“Well how do ya know it was Robby then eh Skarp? ‘Specially if ya were asleep the whole time.”
“Ahha! Well I wokes up see? An’ I sees him out on the water in ma boat! Course I didn’t see him too well -- his bloody hat was over his eyes -- but I saw who was with him! An’ I asks maself, what lady in this town would have the money ta buy a dress like that? Certainly none of the common folk…”
“What are ya getting’ at, Skarp?”
“Don’t insult ma inteli -- intelee -- don’t insult ma brains, Bobart. Ya know as well as I do that yar son is the only one courtin’ the mayor’s daughter. Aye, an’ what a shame ta bring her inta this felo -- felern -- inta this CRIME!”
“Wait!” said O’Brien interrupting.
He had begun to lose interest in the conversation when it veered off course but the mention of a well-dressed girl leaving the city, suddenly captured it back.
“I don’t think it was your son, Captain. The pirate I’m chasing is wanted for the kidnapping of Anastasia, Princess of the Crusaders.”
Yill and Bobart gasped. Skarp burped.
“Quick man,” said O’Brien, addressing Skarp, “What was the color of the dress?”
“Uh, red?”
“That’s it! To the docks, men! Smartly now!”
“But sir!” said one of his men, “We don’t have a ship!”
O’Brien stopped short. “Bobart! In the name of the king I order you ta aid me in the capture of captain Burtrand Storm-Rider. We’ll need your ship!”
“Ohhh no!” said the captain, “First off, ya’re in Knights Kingdom now, not Crusader land. I don’ have oblige ya with ma ship. Second, I’m not the type of guy who goes for adventures at the drop of a hat. Though there are plenty of that type in this land. Third, I’ve got my own trip ta make ta the southern isles today. And forth, you don’t have any clue where that boat is headed.”
O’Brien slumped into a nearby chair, flummoxed, stumped and without any way foreseeable way to stop Burtrand. Then it hit him. Of course! Burtrand had tried to stow away on Bobart’s ship. And if the ship that was headed for the southern isles…it could only mean one thing. Burtrand was trying to get somewhere south. And better still, if Burtrand was heading south, then Bobart wouldn’t have to go out of his way to follow him.
“Mister Bobart,” said O’Brien, “I’d like to have a word with you.”
Yill watched as Captain Bobart and the Crusaders left the tavern and turned down the street.
“Well,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes, “That made a lot of sense.”
He turned to Skarp who was looking as clueless as Yill felt himself.
“What about my BLOODY BOAT!!!” The drunkard screamed in confusion. As if on cue, the bar erupted into an all out brawl.
“Great” said Yill, “Fifth one this week.”
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