Pirates of Ile de Torture
Aug. 14th, 2003 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
niankhsekhmetThis is a series that a friend of mine and I are working on over at Pan Historia.
Bound for Bombay
Aisha stood looking out over the railing of the ship at her father who was surrounded by his men. The lithe girl was surrounded by her own servants and slaves and was properly veied as all valued women of the Kingdom were. She would remain so until she reached her destination of Kajaiputanna where she would become the wife of the Raja.
A dutiful daughter would have hald her hand up to bid him farewell, yet the heart of Aisha seethed in anger. Both sisters elder and younger had been obedient to their father’s will, and as he was Padusha, Allah’s representative on Earth, they would follow him without question. Was it because that unlike her sisters she refused to restrict herself to the harem and let embroidery, idle gossip and endless boredom were their only companions? Instead of acknowleging his farewell, Aisha turned and went toward her cabin. Her message was clear. She was not a dutiful daughter, and her final destination only held captivity of the worst kind.
“You shall not go hawking again!” her father had raised his vioce to her, this time, his face reddened beneath the deep brown of his skin.
“My wrists are strong enough and I can ride better than even my elder brothers, father!” she said in a tone that was not befitting the daughter of a Sultan and a princess, “And I fight better too! The work of women," she spat, " it bores me to tears!”
“But you are a woman, Aisha! And it is your duty to do womanly things! "he glared down his great hawk nose at her, “ Would that you could have been born a prince! But Allah did not grant that to either of us, so it is your duty to do as you are instructed. You will be married to the Rajah of Kajaiputanna and you will conduct yourself as I would expect and as the words of the Prophet (may his name live in Glory forever!) command!”
Aisha knew that when her father invoked 'the Prophet', there was no longer a point in continuing the discussion. She had often been able to wear her father down in every other time in the past. Usually in less than a week she would get him to relent so that gradually her freedoms would be discreetly and slowly increased, but not this time. She had been caught in the high desert, with a scimitar tied to her waist, a hawk on her wrist and riding a stallion! A stallion! His own daughters' behavior bordered on insolence, for it was commanded by the Sultan himself that women, when they were allowed to ride, would ride mares, and here his own daughter defied that very edict! And to make matters worse, she was among men that were neither brother or father and unveiled. If there were any other improprieties, surely she had done them this single morning. The look of horror on the face of her father, his ministers and also the Ambassador for the Raja who was in attendance with her father were clear. Aisha was forbidden from that point onward to stroll even her own pavillions n her private gardens unattended. This was to remain in effect until she was to board the ship that was bound for India and to her future husband. There would be no further opportunities to cost her father further embarrassment.
Aisha balked against the restrictions, even as she watched her sisters who giggled beneath the mimosa trees enjoying their sherbet in the late afternoon. Captivity, she knew, came in many forms, and everything that she found enticing about life had been wrested from her hands. Each wind that blew across the desert held upon it the promise of freedom, and she sniffed the air like a mare looking for ways to escape. The ship, now loaded dowries accounted for and stacked deep. The hold was nearly bursting with fine brocades, gold, textiles and all manner of Arab treasures. It was even more than she knew her father had originally anticipated that her father would pay as part of her dowries. No doubt the added compensation was the price of his saving face for the embarrassment she had caused him. 'No matter how a cage may be gilded,' she thought, 'a slave is still a slave'.
The ship rolled and undulated over the Arabian Sea. Aisha paced her quarters that had been carpeted with rich rugs of the kingdom. More often than not, she would kick off her slippers and pace the cabin like a caged lioness, waiting, waiting for an opportunity to spring from her cage and toward freedom. Her servants tried to entice her with games and music, but only strolls on the deck of the ship, under veils and always attended would give any glimmer of hope.
She scanned the horizon that had only offer an endless expanse of sea on all sides. As she looked out over the forward bow of the ship, she saw the masts of another ship, tall and dark, much different from the Mogul ship upon which she stood. Almost immediately, a call went up from one of the crew that had already spotted the ship. Instantly the rest of the crew scurried about the decks in an increasingly agitated state. Only the captain remained relatively calm, but barked sharp orders in Hindi that she did not understand. It was when she was quickly wisked back to her quarters that Aisha realized, their ship was being pursued.
The Sweet Smell Of Treasure
Author: Captain Jack Sparrow
Date: 07-21-03 12:36
Jack watched as a ship seemed to materialize from the gray clouds and black sea, his eyes narrowed and his stance tightened at the sight of the star and crescent pennant flying from the mainmast. She was a dark bit of bark with a flash of white. And as she tacked about, he caught her draft and layout. She looked to be a corsairs barge, a good sized one. A lone barge, possible eight or twelve guns.
" Morgan's Poxed Liver!! I know that barge! 'tis the bloody rajah's bloody barge, it is! " His barking shout of surprise, roused the attention of Mr. Gibbs. " Hoist th' mainsheet full--"
" Ye smell somethin' Jack? "
Twitching his nose, " Ayeeeeeeeeee, treasure Mr. Gibbs. A shiteload of treasure! Unlock the armory ye scabbarous dog and make ready to engage! "
" Aye Captain! " came the reply as the crew mustered readying the black sailed vessl known as the Black Pearl. She was swift and strong Jack had come into her possession after losing his first ship to crew of Frogs that had out manned and out gunned his inexperienced crew. They had been fortuante to escape with their arses intact,that was for certain. But all of that was a story for another time and a full bottle of rum.
" How many guns? " Gibbs asked adding a brace of primed pistols to his baldrick.
" Looks to be no more'n eight or twelve... and four swivels topside. "
" She ain't heelin' to, Jack, " concern etched in Mr. Gibbs brow.
" She will... " Jack continued to scrutinize the rajah's barge's distant shape and something glimpsed fleetingly through the strong lens that set his nerves on edge. He scoured the image for some understanding of what had tweaked his sense of alarm, but there was no sign of anything amiss. He lowered the glass and stared at Gibbs expectantly. Then raised his nose to the wind and inhaled. " Trouble Mr. Gibbs, I smell it<" Jack checked the wind and adjusted his hold upon the wheel, "Darkness and sulpher on the wind... "
Gibbs raised a curious brow and sniffed around himself, " If ye say so Jack. That nose o' you'rn ain't steered us wrong yet. "
Darkness and sulpher - gunpowder to be more exact. And whether his nose actually smelled it, or he had sensed it otherwise, Jack Sparrow was right. And when he raised the glass to his eye again, that recognizable flash that had sent a tremor of alarm through him beacme a steady beacon. Red... Red and gold... the color of the rajah's own guard, and there was a mass of them.
"Corsairs!, " he lowered the glass. Morgan's Poxed Liver! They were fixin' for a fight, even though out manned and out gunned! " Run up the colors, mate! Let 'em know we give no quarter! " And as they closed the distance between the ships, Jack ordered Black Jimmy and his gunners to stand below at their stations and set his top gunners at the swivel guns mounted at the railing fore and aft.
Jack's muscular frame set firmly by the wheel and he ordered top gallants lowered and the flying jib run out. Keen eyed and fiercely intense, he monitored every sway and yawl, every nuance of wind and wave, correcting, checking their progress. The rajah's barge headed straight for them now, there was no mistaking it. Then a bolt of electricity rent the air as the barge's response to the pennant of no quarter was seen before it was heard -- an angry billow of gray smoke. The unmistakeable tenor tones of a twelve pounder's explosion sent a shockwave through the Pearl's hull and crew. The shot barely splashed into the drink between ships before a second boom soundeed and Jack spun about, alive with fury.
" Morgan's Poxed Liver! " Jack shouted, " She wants a fight, We'll give her a bloody fight! "
***********
The ship shuddered and shook with each release from the cannon. Which each thudering rumble the serving women of the Sultan's daughter huddled anxiously, clinging to each other and their mistress. Each loud volley release produced screams, and even tears. Only the eyes of their mistress remained dry, her countenance was not one of fear but of curiosity.
Aisha looked out the laticed window coverings through a small crack that gave her a sliver of vison at the ocean. With each pitch and roll of the boat she could make out the form of the pursuing ship, dark and imposing. Aisha caught sight of a flash of red orange agiinst the gray waves as it fired at their ship. A whistling and then a large explosion as the cannon ball landed on the deck of the ship, splinters of dark wood and smoke flew everywhere, eliciting screams from the women, and more shouting from the men on the deck.
"By Allah they are close!" Yasmina her chief handmaiden barked, "I hope the captain can outrun them. Surely they would not attack a ship under the flag of the Raja!" The older woman pulled her robes about her and gripped Aisha's shoulders. Aisha's initial reaction to the attack was one of fear, but it was not the same as the women about her. The blood that coursed through her limbs felt like a cool serpent snaking its way through her, its venom was one of pure excitement.
"Don't be ridiculous! That is probably why they are attacking!" Aisha pulled away from her handmaiden pressing her face against the lattice so she could see, more cannon fire errupted, small arms fire between the two vessels came. Now the guns nearest the quarters could be heard being loaded and fired, angry shouts in Hindi and Punjabi were heard going up and down the ship.
"Your father would kill anyone who...."
"Obviously these men do not fear my father - or the Maharajah!." Aisha cut her off,"They are either after the dowry or me.."
"I know what pirates of the infidels do to women! We will be raped or enslaved or both! And you, if we are just lucky enough they will just take the treasure and ransom you!"
A roar and a loud explosion followed by a second came and shook the entire ship and Aisha struggled to keep her feet. The sounds of men shouting, some screaming, and the smell of smoke began to fill the chamber, the smell of sulfur and creosote clung heavily creating an almost inpenatrable maisma.
The next sounds were sounds of scrambling and shouts in the language of the barbarians and infidels. English!
"We've been boarded, Mistress!" Yasmina's eyes were pleading as her aged fingers bit into the girl's flesh, "We must conceal you! Quickly!" She motioned to the other women, who scarcely could keep their wits about them as the cannon and small arms fire continued. Yasmina rooted among the boxes and found a plain white cotton kurta shirt and pajama pants, along with a sash for the waist and a long length of blue cloth.
"What are you doing? Yasmina" Aisha asked imperiously as the women pulled the kamiz tunic over her head and slipped on the unadorned kurta shirt.
"We can dress you as a boy, Mistress. With your hair bound up under this wrap, you will look like one of the young Sikh servants! To them we all look alike."
As the women wrapped her long ebony tresses in the blue scarf and tied it about her head, Aisha struggled to keep still. If they would dress her as a boy, then she could fight as one too! Were not the Sikh's required to carry a dagger? When she asked for one Yasmina shook her head emphatically. In this guise and howAisha looked dressed as a boy, the rites of manhood would not have been passed. It would be more believeable and a better fate for her if she were not armed. Leniency would not be shown to those who resisted.
Everything within Aisha bucked and strained against this scheme. She wanted to throw off the many hands that dressed her take up arms and defend herself. But against what? Against whom? Was she not going to become property of the Raja? Grudgingly she admitted to herself it would be wisest to keep with the ruse that Yasmina had devised and play along. Who knew what the barbarian infidels wanted? If they wanted treasure they could have it, she thought bitterly. Better to die free and poor than rich and in a cage.
There was another roar and entire wall of the chamber splintered glass and metal twisted. The enemy was so much closer now. With a grunt and a shout, the axes began cutting through the heavy door of the chamber.
Victory At Sea
Captain Jack Sparrow tumbled down the hatchway steps of the enemy ship, grappling hand to hand with a turban clad, rangy, grizzled tar and gaining some slight advantage as he hit the passageway floor on his feet and charged anew, blade swinging.
The deck was smoky and tangled in sagging cables and sheeting and chaotic. Everywhere men were grapling, bodies were sprawled, and more of the Pearl's crew were pouring up from the gundeck below.
Violent spalashes of red jerked and twisted in furious paring with Sparrow's crew. Arms and legs flailed and strained and slashed in savage combat all around the hatch opening. He caught sight of Mr. Gibbs, slashing furiously, with a short sword to keep a corsair at bay. Mr. Cotton was toppled and grappling on deck with his parrot furiously pecking away his assailant's truban. Tearlach stood over one slumped form, weaponless, and swung his hamlike fists like a hammer into the spleen of a boarder locked in knife combat with Ladbroc. Occasional cracks of flintlock fire split the din of the warfare.
Jack flattened against the the quarrterdeck steps, he couldn't tell who was winning and who was losing. Bloody bodies were strun across the deck heaving, grunting and writhing in their agony. The blood in his veins coarsed with excitement at the horrifying sight of his mates fighting for their lives. A bolt of blinding fury ripped through him... A shattering blast that had errupted like the cannon fire of moments before. Hot blood burst against his skin, raising his sword he charged once again into the din. Steel clashed against steel and soon he found himself hard pressed against the bulkhead by a turbaned corsair. Summoning up his reserves, Jack, red faced and snarling beat back the arab with his bloody blade when soon his enemy was joined by another man. Sparrow's wild sweeping parries held them at bay when the crack of flintlock fire dropped one of the men leaving jack free to deliver the kill blow to the other.
Jack was cursing silently to himself, all the while panting, heaving and groaning came from all quarters, but the clang of metal on metal died down as more and more of the Pearl's crew appeared, some climbing up from the subdued deck of the raja's ship, and some pushing themselves up, gaining their feet from amongst the injured and vanquished.
Jack was visible near the waist railing, panting, leaning and grinning like a barracuda. Taking a deep breath, he tossed his head back and bellowed a triumphant roar that was joined and soon became a deafening din of pride.
While Black Jimmy set the powder that would scuttle the vessel, Jack went from hold to hold finding bolts of fine fabric, rare oils and chests of jewels and gold. " Morgan's bloody teeth!" he gasped. With legs weakening under him, thankfully, there was a chest for him to collapse onto. Collecting himself quickly, he stomped hapily up the decks to share the news of good fortune with the crew when his nose picked up an unmistakeable scent. " WOMEN! "
Jack reverently placed both palms against the wood of the cabin door and inhaled deeply around the crack of the jam. Yes, it was women, Morgan's bloody liver, there were women behind this door and he meant to have himself some! Lifting one booted foot, he struck the door which opened with a loud bang.
Curling the ends of his moustache as well as the ends of his lips, Jack stepped inside when suddenly his ears were assulted by the high pitched noise made by the scurrying, veiled and frightened women. Some pressed themselves against the hull, hiding their eyes while others dropped to their knees around his feet. Jack clutched his ears cringing,
" Come on now! Shut up! Shut it! " Apparently his words were not understood. Then he noticed a young arab boy standing quietly in the corner, he neither moved nor made that god awful sound. Jack swaggered over pressing the boy against the hull and used the only arabic phrase he knew, " Enti tip tiff ham Ingileezi? "
The lad blinked in surprise and finally answered, "Aiwa. Ana bufham Ingileezi."
"Well then bloody tell them to quit makin' that gawdawful sound! "
The boy complied shouting over the din in his native tongue for the women to stop their tongues from waggling.
" What's your name, boy? " Jack leaned forward and sniffed receiveing an unexpected reaction from his weasely self; a very noticable tightening and twitch in his britches.
Sharply, the lad looked up at him. " Ali... My name is Ali ", the boy answered.
Jack's soft brown eyes narrowed as he peered at the boys face, and was lost in the onyx depths of the lad's eyes. For the space of a heartbeat their gazes met and some indefinable emotion passed between them. Unconsiously, Jack raised a hand and stroked the smoothness of the boys cheek with the backs of two calloused fingers.
Realizing what he had done, the Black Pearl's captain "harumphed" and bellowed, " Tell them all to get up on deck, now! Savvy? " And as the boy herded the women Jack followed with thought's of " Morgan's Poxed Liver! I've been at sea toooooo bloody long! " running through his head.
Glossary:
"Enti tip tiff ham Ingileezi?" - "Do you understand English?(f)"
"Aiwa. Ana buf ham Ingileezi," - "Yes, I understand English"
TO BE CONTINUED..
Bound for Bombay
Aisha stood looking out over the railing of the ship at her father who was surrounded by his men. The lithe girl was surrounded by her own servants and slaves and was properly veied as all valued women of the Kingdom were. She would remain so until she reached her destination of Kajaiputanna where she would become the wife of the Raja.
A dutiful daughter would have hald her hand up to bid him farewell, yet the heart of Aisha seethed in anger. Both sisters elder and younger had been obedient to their father’s will, and as he was Padusha, Allah’s representative on Earth, they would follow him without question. Was it because that unlike her sisters she refused to restrict herself to the harem and let embroidery, idle gossip and endless boredom were their only companions? Instead of acknowleging his farewell, Aisha turned and went toward her cabin. Her message was clear. She was not a dutiful daughter, and her final destination only held captivity of the worst kind.
“You shall not go hawking again!” her father had raised his vioce to her, this time, his face reddened beneath the deep brown of his skin.
“My wrists are strong enough and I can ride better than even my elder brothers, father!” she said in a tone that was not befitting the daughter of a Sultan and a princess, “And I fight better too! The work of women," she spat, " it bores me to tears!”
“But you are a woman, Aisha! And it is your duty to do womanly things! "he glared down his great hawk nose at her, “ Would that you could have been born a prince! But Allah did not grant that to either of us, so it is your duty to do as you are instructed. You will be married to the Rajah of Kajaiputanna and you will conduct yourself as I would expect and as the words of the Prophet (may his name live in Glory forever!) command!”
Aisha knew that when her father invoked 'the Prophet', there was no longer a point in continuing the discussion. She had often been able to wear her father down in every other time in the past. Usually in less than a week she would get him to relent so that gradually her freedoms would be discreetly and slowly increased, but not this time. She had been caught in the high desert, with a scimitar tied to her waist, a hawk on her wrist and riding a stallion! A stallion! His own daughters' behavior bordered on insolence, for it was commanded by the Sultan himself that women, when they were allowed to ride, would ride mares, and here his own daughter defied that very edict! And to make matters worse, she was among men that were neither brother or father and unveiled. If there were any other improprieties, surely she had done them this single morning. The look of horror on the face of her father, his ministers and also the Ambassador for the Raja who was in attendance with her father were clear. Aisha was forbidden from that point onward to stroll even her own pavillions n her private gardens unattended. This was to remain in effect until she was to board the ship that was bound for India and to her future husband. There would be no further opportunities to cost her father further embarrassment.
Aisha balked against the restrictions, even as she watched her sisters who giggled beneath the mimosa trees enjoying their sherbet in the late afternoon. Captivity, she knew, came in many forms, and everything that she found enticing about life had been wrested from her hands. Each wind that blew across the desert held upon it the promise of freedom, and she sniffed the air like a mare looking for ways to escape. The ship, now loaded dowries accounted for and stacked deep. The hold was nearly bursting with fine brocades, gold, textiles and all manner of Arab treasures. It was even more than she knew her father had originally anticipated that her father would pay as part of her dowries. No doubt the added compensation was the price of his saving face for the embarrassment she had caused him. 'No matter how a cage may be gilded,' she thought, 'a slave is still a slave'.
The ship rolled and undulated over the Arabian Sea. Aisha paced her quarters that had been carpeted with rich rugs of the kingdom. More often than not, she would kick off her slippers and pace the cabin like a caged lioness, waiting, waiting for an opportunity to spring from her cage and toward freedom. Her servants tried to entice her with games and music, but only strolls on the deck of the ship, under veils and always attended would give any glimmer of hope.
She scanned the horizon that had only offer an endless expanse of sea on all sides. As she looked out over the forward bow of the ship, she saw the masts of another ship, tall and dark, much different from the Mogul ship upon which she stood. Almost immediately, a call went up from one of the crew that had already spotted the ship. Instantly the rest of the crew scurried about the decks in an increasingly agitated state. Only the captain remained relatively calm, but barked sharp orders in Hindi that she did not understand. It was when she was quickly wisked back to her quarters that Aisha realized, their ship was being pursued.
The Sweet Smell Of Treasure
Author: Captain Jack Sparrow
Date: 07-21-03 12:36
Jack watched as a ship seemed to materialize from the gray clouds and black sea, his eyes narrowed and his stance tightened at the sight of the star and crescent pennant flying from the mainmast. She was a dark bit of bark with a flash of white. And as she tacked about, he caught her draft and layout. She looked to be a corsairs barge, a good sized one. A lone barge, possible eight or twelve guns.
" Morgan's Poxed Liver!! I know that barge! 'tis the bloody rajah's bloody barge, it is! " His barking shout of surprise, roused the attention of Mr. Gibbs. " Hoist th' mainsheet full--"
" Ye smell somethin' Jack? "
Twitching his nose, " Ayeeeeeeeeee, treasure Mr. Gibbs. A shiteload of treasure! Unlock the armory ye scabbarous dog and make ready to engage! "
" Aye Captain! " came the reply as the crew mustered readying the black sailed vessl known as the Black Pearl. She was swift and strong Jack had come into her possession after losing his first ship to crew of Frogs that had out manned and out gunned his inexperienced crew. They had been fortuante to escape with their arses intact,that was for certain. But all of that was a story for another time and a full bottle of rum.
" How many guns? " Gibbs asked adding a brace of primed pistols to his baldrick.
" Looks to be no more'n eight or twelve... and four swivels topside. "
" She ain't heelin' to, Jack, " concern etched in Mr. Gibbs brow.
" She will... " Jack continued to scrutinize the rajah's barge's distant shape and something glimpsed fleetingly through the strong lens that set his nerves on edge. He scoured the image for some understanding of what had tweaked his sense of alarm, but there was no sign of anything amiss. He lowered the glass and stared at Gibbs expectantly. Then raised his nose to the wind and inhaled. " Trouble Mr. Gibbs, I smell it<" Jack checked the wind and adjusted his hold upon the wheel, "Darkness and sulpher on the wind... "
Gibbs raised a curious brow and sniffed around himself, " If ye say so Jack. That nose o' you'rn ain't steered us wrong yet. "
Darkness and sulpher - gunpowder to be more exact. And whether his nose actually smelled it, or he had sensed it otherwise, Jack Sparrow was right. And when he raised the glass to his eye again, that recognizable flash that had sent a tremor of alarm through him beacme a steady beacon. Red... Red and gold... the color of the rajah's own guard, and there was a mass of them.
"Corsairs!, " he lowered the glass. Morgan's Poxed Liver! They were fixin' for a fight, even though out manned and out gunned! " Run up the colors, mate! Let 'em know we give no quarter! " And as they closed the distance between the ships, Jack ordered Black Jimmy and his gunners to stand below at their stations and set his top gunners at the swivel guns mounted at the railing fore and aft.
Jack's muscular frame set firmly by the wheel and he ordered top gallants lowered and the flying jib run out. Keen eyed and fiercely intense, he monitored every sway and yawl, every nuance of wind and wave, correcting, checking their progress. The rajah's barge headed straight for them now, there was no mistaking it. Then a bolt of electricity rent the air as the barge's response to the pennant of no quarter was seen before it was heard -- an angry billow of gray smoke. The unmistakeable tenor tones of a twelve pounder's explosion sent a shockwave through the Pearl's hull and crew. The shot barely splashed into the drink between ships before a second boom soundeed and Jack spun about, alive with fury.
" Morgan's Poxed Liver! " Jack shouted, " She wants a fight, We'll give her a bloody fight! "
***********
The ship shuddered and shook with each release from the cannon. Which each thudering rumble the serving women of the Sultan's daughter huddled anxiously, clinging to each other and their mistress. Each loud volley release produced screams, and even tears. Only the eyes of their mistress remained dry, her countenance was not one of fear but of curiosity.
Aisha looked out the laticed window coverings through a small crack that gave her a sliver of vison at the ocean. With each pitch and roll of the boat she could make out the form of the pursuing ship, dark and imposing. Aisha caught sight of a flash of red orange agiinst the gray waves as it fired at their ship. A whistling and then a large explosion as the cannon ball landed on the deck of the ship, splinters of dark wood and smoke flew everywhere, eliciting screams from the women, and more shouting from the men on the deck.
"By Allah they are close!" Yasmina her chief handmaiden barked, "I hope the captain can outrun them. Surely they would not attack a ship under the flag of the Raja!" The older woman pulled her robes about her and gripped Aisha's shoulders. Aisha's initial reaction to the attack was one of fear, but it was not the same as the women about her. The blood that coursed through her limbs felt like a cool serpent snaking its way through her, its venom was one of pure excitement.
"Don't be ridiculous! That is probably why they are attacking!" Aisha pulled away from her handmaiden pressing her face against the lattice so she could see, more cannon fire errupted, small arms fire between the two vessels came. Now the guns nearest the quarters could be heard being loaded and fired, angry shouts in Hindi and Punjabi were heard going up and down the ship.
"Your father would kill anyone who...."
"Obviously these men do not fear my father - or the Maharajah!." Aisha cut her off,"They are either after the dowry or me.."
"I know what pirates of the infidels do to women! We will be raped or enslaved or both! And you, if we are just lucky enough they will just take the treasure and ransom you!"
A roar and a loud explosion followed by a second came and shook the entire ship and Aisha struggled to keep her feet. The sounds of men shouting, some screaming, and the smell of smoke began to fill the chamber, the smell of sulfur and creosote clung heavily creating an almost inpenatrable maisma.
The next sounds were sounds of scrambling and shouts in the language of the barbarians and infidels. English!
"We've been boarded, Mistress!" Yasmina's eyes were pleading as her aged fingers bit into the girl's flesh, "We must conceal you! Quickly!" She motioned to the other women, who scarcely could keep their wits about them as the cannon and small arms fire continued. Yasmina rooted among the boxes and found a plain white cotton kurta shirt and pajama pants, along with a sash for the waist and a long length of blue cloth.
"What are you doing? Yasmina" Aisha asked imperiously as the women pulled the kamiz tunic over her head and slipped on the unadorned kurta shirt.
"We can dress you as a boy, Mistress. With your hair bound up under this wrap, you will look like one of the young Sikh servants! To them we all look alike."
As the women wrapped her long ebony tresses in the blue scarf and tied it about her head, Aisha struggled to keep still. If they would dress her as a boy, then she could fight as one too! Were not the Sikh's required to carry a dagger? When she asked for one Yasmina shook her head emphatically. In this guise and howAisha looked dressed as a boy, the rites of manhood would not have been passed. It would be more believeable and a better fate for her if she were not armed. Leniency would not be shown to those who resisted.
Everything within Aisha bucked and strained against this scheme. She wanted to throw off the many hands that dressed her take up arms and defend herself. But against what? Against whom? Was she not going to become property of the Raja? Grudgingly she admitted to herself it would be wisest to keep with the ruse that Yasmina had devised and play along. Who knew what the barbarian infidels wanted? If they wanted treasure they could have it, she thought bitterly. Better to die free and poor than rich and in a cage.
There was another roar and entire wall of the chamber splintered glass and metal twisted. The enemy was so much closer now. With a grunt and a shout, the axes began cutting through the heavy door of the chamber.
Victory At Sea
Captain Jack Sparrow tumbled down the hatchway steps of the enemy ship, grappling hand to hand with a turban clad, rangy, grizzled tar and gaining some slight advantage as he hit the passageway floor on his feet and charged anew, blade swinging.
The deck was smoky and tangled in sagging cables and sheeting and chaotic. Everywhere men were grapling, bodies were sprawled, and more of the Pearl's crew were pouring up from the gundeck below.
Violent spalashes of red jerked and twisted in furious paring with Sparrow's crew. Arms and legs flailed and strained and slashed in savage combat all around the hatch opening. He caught sight of Mr. Gibbs, slashing furiously, with a short sword to keep a corsair at bay. Mr. Cotton was toppled and grappling on deck with his parrot furiously pecking away his assailant's truban. Tearlach stood over one slumped form, weaponless, and swung his hamlike fists like a hammer into the spleen of a boarder locked in knife combat with Ladbroc. Occasional cracks of flintlock fire split the din of the warfare.
Jack flattened against the the quarrterdeck steps, he couldn't tell who was winning and who was losing. Bloody bodies were strun across the deck heaving, grunting and writhing in their agony. The blood in his veins coarsed with excitement at the horrifying sight of his mates fighting for their lives. A bolt of blinding fury ripped through him... A shattering blast that had errupted like the cannon fire of moments before. Hot blood burst against his skin, raising his sword he charged once again into the din. Steel clashed against steel and soon he found himself hard pressed against the bulkhead by a turbaned corsair. Summoning up his reserves, Jack, red faced and snarling beat back the arab with his bloody blade when soon his enemy was joined by another man. Sparrow's wild sweeping parries held them at bay when the crack of flintlock fire dropped one of the men leaving jack free to deliver the kill blow to the other.
Jack was cursing silently to himself, all the while panting, heaving and groaning came from all quarters, but the clang of metal on metal died down as more and more of the Pearl's crew appeared, some climbing up from the subdued deck of the raja's ship, and some pushing themselves up, gaining their feet from amongst the injured and vanquished.
Jack was visible near the waist railing, panting, leaning and grinning like a barracuda. Taking a deep breath, he tossed his head back and bellowed a triumphant roar that was joined and soon became a deafening din of pride.
While Black Jimmy set the powder that would scuttle the vessel, Jack went from hold to hold finding bolts of fine fabric, rare oils and chests of jewels and gold. " Morgan's bloody teeth!" he gasped. With legs weakening under him, thankfully, there was a chest for him to collapse onto. Collecting himself quickly, he stomped hapily up the decks to share the news of good fortune with the crew when his nose picked up an unmistakeable scent. " WOMEN! "
Jack reverently placed both palms against the wood of the cabin door and inhaled deeply around the crack of the jam. Yes, it was women, Morgan's bloody liver, there were women behind this door and he meant to have himself some! Lifting one booted foot, he struck the door which opened with a loud bang.
Curling the ends of his moustache as well as the ends of his lips, Jack stepped inside when suddenly his ears were assulted by the high pitched noise made by the scurrying, veiled and frightened women. Some pressed themselves against the hull, hiding their eyes while others dropped to their knees around his feet. Jack clutched his ears cringing,
" Come on now! Shut up! Shut it! " Apparently his words were not understood. Then he noticed a young arab boy standing quietly in the corner, he neither moved nor made that god awful sound. Jack swaggered over pressing the boy against the hull and used the only arabic phrase he knew, " Enti tip tiff ham Ingileezi? "
The lad blinked in surprise and finally answered, "Aiwa. Ana bufham Ingileezi."
"Well then bloody tell them to quit makin' that gawdawful sound! "
The boy complied shouting over the din in his native tongue for the women to stop their tongues from waggling.
" What's your name, boy? " Jack leaned forward and sniffed receiveing an unexpected reaction from his weasely self; a very noticable tightening and twitch in his britches.
Sharply, the lad looked up at him. " Ali... My name is Ali ", the boy answered.
Jack's soft brown eyes narrowed as he peered at the boys face, and was lost in the onyx depths of the lad's eyes. For the space of a heartbeat their gazes met and some indefinable emotion passed between them. Unconsiously, Jack raised a hand and stroked the smoothness of the boys cheek with the backs of two calloused fingers.
Realizing what he had done, the Black Pearl's captain "harumphed" and bellowed, " Tell them all to get up on deck, now! Savvy? " And as the boy herded the women Jack followed with thought's of " Morgan's Poxed Liver! I've been at sea toooooo bloody long! " running through his head.
Glossary:
"Enti tip tiff ham Ingileezi?" - "Do you understand English?(f)"
"Aiwa. Ana buf ham Ingileezi," - "Yes, I understand English"
TO BE CONTINUED..
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Date: 2003-08-13 10:50 pm (UTC)