Anthology - Once Around the Realms

The captain's tone changed to one of controlled rage.

"Mister Nordhoff, your tone is mutinous," he said. "Earlier today you questioned my decency as a man for aiding and abetting the slave trade. Then you hesitated in following a direct order."

"The half-elf was innocent of any offense. He did not deserve to be whipped!"

The captain continued, not responding to the comments of his first mate.

"Now, you dare question my judgment in front of this ship's passengers. I shall not stand for this!" he bellowed. "Consider yourself relieved of duty and confined to quarters!"

Nordhoff stood up and turned as if to leave for his quarters, but turned back for a moment when he opened the cabin door and said, "… And you, Captain Queeg, can consider this a mutiny."

In through the opened door rushed three sailors, one of whom was the scourged half-elf. All carried cutlasses.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," said Nordhoff to the shocked travelers, "would you mind returning to your quarters temporarily? The captain and I have some business to attend to, and I assure you no harm will come your way."

Volo left his place at the table to head back to the storeroom, but Passepout hesitated a moment, raised his bowl, and asked, "May I?" Nordhoff chuckled, and replied, "Sure." The rotund thespian refilled his bowl and carefully followed the master traveler back to their storeroom, failing to spill a drop of the delicious fish chowder.

About an hour later, Nordhoff joined Volo and Passepout in their cabin.

"A thousand pardons, gentlemen," he offered. "You should not have been forced to witness what occurred. In reality I am a Harper agent who has been sent to disrupt the slave trade in these waters. As we speak, the captives below deck are being released from their chains. I had to wait until we were far enough from port to take control of the ship."

"What about the captain?" Volo inquired. Though Queeg was obviously a hateful fellow, Volo had no desire to see him killed.

"He has been set adrift in a lifeboat, a man against the sea," Nordhoff replied. "But don't worry. He's a sound seaman. He'll make it back to port. Besides, we also gave him a treat-a bounty, you might say."

"What?" Volo asked.

"His strawberries. We were lying when Marlon said they were left behind," Nordhoff answered.

"Are there any left?" Passepout queried. "The chowder was fine, but I could still really do with some dessert."

Nordhoff laughed.

"Well, it's back to the galley, I guess," he replied.

The demeanor of the crew for the following days was remarkably joyous. The former slaves joined in on the daily chores, and eventually a few joined the crew, while others were put ashore at safe locations along the coast. Even Volo and Passepout joined in on some of daily nautical labors, and in fact, both of them soon became quite expert seamen. Passepout also became an excellent fisherman, which was fortunate, since ship's stores had not taken into account his appetite when laying in provisions for the journey southward.

They were a few days out, off Telpir, when a pirate ship loomed into view.

"Tis flying the colors of Cyric," cried the half-elf, whose name was Starbuck, from the crow's nest. "She's a pirate vessel, and she's heading our way!"

"Dragon's teeth," Nordhoff swore, then turning to Volo and Passepout, he ordered, "You two better go back to your cabin and bolt the door."

Passepout was halfway across the deck when he heard Volo reply.

"If the ship is sunk, we're no better there than here," he answered. "We would be honored to fight at your side."

"Yeah, sure," said Passepout in his characteristic unenthusiastic manner, wondering which would be worse, drowning or being slain by pirates.

The pirate ship was commanded by the villainous Captain Ahib Fletcher, a lifelong member of the feared Brotherhood of the Red Tide, whose patron deity was Cyric. He ruled his crew with iron hook and whip, which had been magically forged to the ends of his arms to replaced his hands, lost due to earlier battle wounds. He was also missing a leg but managed to maneuver faster than any other seaman with the aid of an ivory and iron table leg that had also been forged into place on the leg's stump by one of the Brotherhood's clerics. Though rumored to be insane, he nonetheless kept control of his pirate crew. This despite many night's rages as he recalled the albino banshee who had stolen his son, and cursed "the infernal white wail" to the fear and wonderment of all present.

Nordhoff drew the crew close together. They would be helplessly outnumbered by the one-legged fiend and his cadre of sea marauders, but the mate had a plan.

"According to the rules of the Brotherhood of the Red Tide, the captaincy of a vessel is determined by trial by combat, and anyone can challenge the captain to a battle to the death for command of the ship. When we get within hailing distance, I will express our intentions. Then a plank will be thrown between the two vessels, and I will fight him for control of both of our vessels."

"What if you lose?" Passepout asked.

"Then it will be someone else's turn to defend the ship, and I wish them luck in advance."

The challenge was issued and accepted, and the two ships drew alongside of each other.

The horrible figure of the bloodthirsty pirate captain took his place on the opposite deck.

"Whosoever challenges me, come forward now and face me!" he crowed.

At that precise moment, the pirate ship Raiding Queen lurched, and Passepout was thrown forward, landing at the opposite end of the plank from Ahib.

"I see the challenger is almost as big as myself," Ahib crowed, "but he looks soft."

"I'm not the…" Passepout sputtered.

"Silence!" the pirate ordered. "Your challenge has been accepted. Prepare to meet Cyric."

Volo and Nordhoff were powerless to intervene. They knew that Ahib would not listen to reason and that if they joined in, the ship's entire crew would be slaughtered by Ahib's men.

"But I'm not…," the thespian continued in panic, "you want…"

"I said silence!" the bloodthirsty buccaneer crowed and, with a flick of his metal-studded whip, began his attack.

The lash flicked around Passepout in an effort to embrace him so that he could be pulled closer to the pirate on the plank. Luckily for the rotund thespian, it failed to gain a wrapping grip due to the length of the journey it had to make around his midsection. Ahib pull on the whip's butt, only succeeding in giving Passepout a nasty lash burn around his waist rather than dragging him onto the plank. Ahib, however, was thrown off balance by the absence of the expected pull of dragging his opponent's bulk closer to him, he was forced to fall back four steps before he could regain his balance.

"Jump onto the plank!" Nordhoff ordered. "Now!"

Without thinking, Passepout followed the order yelled by the first mate.

Ahib, who was about to lunge toward his prey, was once again thrown off balance, this time by the vibrating shock waves that passed along the plank from the resultant force of the landing of Passepout's bulk at one end. Once again, the pirate was delayed in his attack, and momentarily dazed.

Passepout was petrified with fear.

"How long does this have to go on?" Volo asked, his eyes riveted on the source of Passepout's terror.

"Until one of them can fight no longer," Nordhoff replied, trying to strategize a new move for the panicked thespian.

"But Passepout isn't fighting now!" Volo implored.

"No, but he's still alive, and that at least is something to work with," the Harper replied, then shouted, "Passepout, jump!"

Again the thespian jumped, sending the waves of confusion along the plank that separated him from his doom. And the pirate was thrown off balance.