Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1) (13 page)

“I’m glad to hear that, Captain,” Jeff
said, “Speaking of drawing blood, while I am able to fight
reasonably well, I have no experience with your swords or firearms.
I was thinking it might be wise to at least learn the basics of the
sword techniques of this era and how to load and fire a
flintlock.”

“Aye,” the Captain nodded. “That is
sound thinking, Mr. Greene. Though as ship’s surgeon, you shall
remain on the ship during the raids, there might come a time when
you would be called upon to help defend the ship. Mr. Harrison has
instructed many of the crew in swordplay and he is quite good with
the flintlocks as well. He does not appear to be busy…”

Jeff interrupted nervously, “With all
due respect Captain, given my history with Mr. Harrison, is it
really a good idea for me to be in close proximity to him with
blades and guns?”

The Captain laughed. “Mr. Greene, I am
sure that Mr. Harrison does have some residual ill feelings toward
you, but you are now a member of the crew. As such, he would never
intentionally bring severe harm to you. You may have some need of
your own medicines before your lessons are through, but in my
experience, a little blood can accelerate the learning
process.”

“Great!” Jeff said with mock
enthusiasm.

The Captain called down to the deck,
“Mr. Harrison!”

“Aye, Captain?” he said as he stood
and walked toward the helm.

“Mr. Harrison, Mr. Greene here is in
need of some training with the sword and guns. Would you do the
honors?”

“Aye, Captain. It would be me
pleasure,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

“Very good, you shall begin
immediately. We shall need Mr. Greene to be prepared when we meet
up with the Brethren.”

“Aye, Captain!” Harrison
replied.

“Oh, and Mr. Harrison,” the Captain
added, “I believe it goes without saying, but we shall need Mr.
Greene to have all of his limbs and be able-bodied when we meet up
with the Brethren.”

“Aye… Do ye include fingers when ye
say limbs, Captain?”

The Captain chuckled, “Yes, Mr.
Harrison, I was including fingers - the ship’s surgeon needs his
fingers.”

“Aye, Captain,” Harrison replied with
a hint of disappointment.

Coxen turned to Jeff, “Well, Mr.
Greene, Mr. Harrison awaits. Fair thee well. Hopefully I will see
you at dinner.”

“Yes, well, until dinner then,” Jeff
said with some apprehension as he headed to the main
deck.

Harrison was waiting for Jeff when he
made it to the center of the deck and tossed him a sword. Jeff
grabbed for the handle but missed and managed to just barely slide
his foot out of the way as the tip of the blade imbedded itself in
the deck. Jeff looked angrily at Harrison who shrugged his
shoulders and said, “Captain not say nothin’ ‘bout toes, did ‘e?”
Jeff took a deep breath and grabbed ahold of the sword, wrenching
it free from the deck. “Now, Mr. Greene, time for ye to become a
swordsman!” Harrison said with more than a little glee.

Jeff adjusted his grip on the sword as
Harrison raised his and stepped forward with an overhand swing.
Jeff blocked the slice and Harrison stepped back. “Very good, Mr.
Greene! You have passed lesson one. Now for lesson two…” Harrison
suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs and ran at Jeff, swinging
the sword wildly. Jeff managed to deflect the first three blows of
Harrison’s sword, but on the fourth, the tip of the blade nicked
the tip of his nose. Harrison ceased his attack. “Not bad for a
greenie, but ye shall need to do better if ye wish to keep yer
head!” A thin trickle of blood ran from Jeff’s nose and he could
taste it on his lips. He wiped the blood from his face on his
sleeve. The wound didn’t hurt that much, but he knew if it had been
a real fight without Harrison controlling his attack, he’d probably
be dead. “Now,” Harrison said, “I’ll show ye the right way to
handle yer blade…” The pirate set down his sword and stepped behind
Jeff, grasping the wrist of his sword arm. “Like this,” Harrison
said, moving Jeff’s arms through a series of motions.

After a few minutes of moving him
through the paces, Harrison called Graves over. “Mr.Graves, give us
yer best attack and I shall assist Mr. Greene with defense.” Graves
nodded, pulled his flintlock and took aim at Jeff and Harrison.
“No! Graves, ye donkey!” Harrison yelled, “Your best SWORD
attack!”

“Aye!” Graves acknowledged, lowering
the gun. He slipped the flintlock in his belt and drew his sword.
Graves advanced, swinging his sword.

Harrison deftly guided Jeff’s arm and
easily warded off a flurry of slices. “Good!” “That will be all Mr.
Graves. Mr. Pike, take over for Graves.” Pike stepped forward and
drew his sword. Once again, with Harrison guiding his arm, Jeff was
able to successfully defend himself. The process was repeated with
several more members of the crew, and gradually Jeff was taking
over the control of his arm from Harrison. Finally, Harrison
stepped away altogether and Jeff defended against a few more
members of the crew before Harrison called a halt. “Very good, Mr.
Greene! Ye be ready for the next step. Wait here.”

Harrison disappeared below deck as
Jeff caught his breath. His arm was getting tired and sore from the
sword play, but he was pleased with his progress. Harrison soon
returned with a strip of cloth and a mop. He tied the strip of
cloth to the end of the mop and held it out in front of him with
the cloth hanging a few feet in front of Jeff’s face. “Now, Mr.
Greene, slice the cloth.” Jeff raised his sword and swung at the
cloth, but Harrison moved it away just in time and he missed it
completely. “Ye did not think I be makin’ it that easy did ye?”
Harrison smiled.

“I was kind of hoping you would,” Jeff
replied.

He once again readied the sword and
faked a swing. Harrison was not fooled and didn’t even twitch. Jeff
concentrated and quickly swung at the cloth but narrowly missed it
as once again Harrison was too quick. Jeff would swing and miss
several more times but each time he was a little faster and more
direct with his movements. He finally succeeded in slicing a tiny
fragment from the end of the cloth strip and his success was
greeted with the cheers of several members of the crew who had been
watching.

“Huzzah, Mr. Greene!” Crabtree
exclaimed. “You be the first to strike the cloth in quite some
time.”

“Well done!” Captain Coxen called down
from the bridge. “We might make a pirate of you yet, Mr.
Greene!”

Harrison nodded his approval at Jeff
and proceeded to hold the cloth strip, now slightly shorter, in
front of him again. “Ye still be needin’ some practice,” Harrison
said. Jeff nodded his agreement and proceeded with his training. He
succeeded in slicing through the cloth a few more times over the
next 10 minutes or so, but he had reached a point where he could
barely hold the sword up any longer. Harrison finally put down the
mop and relieved Jeff of the sword.

He then led Jeff over to the rail of
the ship and pulled his pistol from his belt. “Now ye need to know
how to load and shoot,” Harrison said as he pulled a pouch from his
belt. Harrison demonstrated how to load the pistol and then handed
it to Jeff. “Pull back the hammer and she be ready to fire.” Jeff
cocked the weapon and pointed it out at the water. “Go ahead and
fire so ye get the feel ‘o it,” Harrison said. Jeff extended his
arm and squeezed the trigger. The noise of the gun was deafening
and he felt a shower of small stings on his arm as tiny bits of
burning gunpowder landed on his skin. He had never fired a modern
handgun, so he really didn’t have a basis of comparison, but the
flintlock seemed to him to have a rather large kick. He saw the
splash where the shot hit and was somewhat surprised by its
location.

Though a novice gunman, he realized
right away that the lack of accuracy with this weapon was as much
due to its limitations as due to his own lack of skill. “What type
of reliable range do you get with one of these?” Jeff asked
Harrison.

“It be good for across the deck o’ a
ship like this. Maybe a bit further with some luck. Now, ye load it
as I showed ye.” Jeff set to work loading the weapon as Harrison
stepped away. He returned with a small piece of scrap wood as Jeff
completed the loading process. “Ye ready fer a target?”

“Yes,” Jeff replied.

Harrison tossed the piece of wood over
the rail. “Fire at will,” he said to Jeff. Jeff cocked the weapon
and took aim as best he could as the ship was quickly moving away
from the piece of wood. He fired and saw the shot strike the water
about 6 inches from the target. “Good enough,” Harrison nodded with
approval. “That concludes yer training fer today, Mr. Greene. Come
with me and I shall show ye the armory so ye can choose a sword o’
yer own.”

Jeff followed Harrison below deck and
into the cargo hold. Just inside the door was an ornate carved-wood
armoire that looked more like it should be in a women’s boutique
than on board a pirate ship. Harrison swung open the doors to
reveal several swords hanging from hooks. “Choose,” Harrison said.
Jeff looked at the swords and chose one similar in style to the one
he’d been practicing with all day. As he held it, he could tell it
was indeed very similar to his training sword and decided it was
his best option. “A fine sword,” Harrison nodded.

“Ye won’t be needin’ to carry a
pistol, but if ye ever need to defend the ship, ye can find the
guns here,” the pirate said, sliding open the top drawer in the
base of the armoire. Several pistols of varying sizes were lying in
the drawer wrapped in greasy rags along with several pouches of
powder and ammunition. “All o’ the guns be loaded and ready to fire
except for the flint. There’s additional powder and shot in the
bottom drawer and there are rifles in this box,” Harrison said
leaning over a long wooden box, opening it briefly to display the
guns. “Leave the long guns for the better marksmen unless ye be the
last line o’ defense. They load the same as the pistols, but ye use
the larger powder horns,” he said pulling a rifle from the box.
Harrison showed Jeff the procedure for loading the rifle and then
set the gun back in the box and closed the lid. “Ye
savvy?”

“Yes,” Jeff said nodding.

“
Good. Practice with yer
sword as often as ye can. Ye can call on any member o’ the crew
when they not be otherwise busy.”

Jeff rubbed his shoulder which was now
aching pretty badly from all the day’s activity. “Yer arm be
hurtin’?” Harrison asked.

“Yes, it’s just sore from all the
swordplay,” Jeff replied. Harrison beckoned Jeff to follow him and
lead him into the crew’s quarters. Harrison walked over to his bunk
and slid a wooden box from underneath it. He pulled out a small
metal canister and opened it. Immediately a strong scent filled the
air that smelled like spices mixed with manure. Jeff had grown
accustomed to the ever present stench of his surroundings, but this
took things to a whole new level.

Before Jeff could say anything,
Harrison stuck his hand in the canister and then slid it under the
collar of Jeff’s shirt and began massaging the foul smelling salve
into his shoulder. Jeff’s skin quickly became numb and tingly as
Harrison explained, “Got this in Jamaica. Natives make it and say
it cure whatever ails ye.”

“Thanks,” Jeff said, trying not to gag
from the smell, “But it’s my other shoulder that hurts!”

Harrison stopped rubbing and nodded.
“Aye!” he said shaking his head at himself and sliding his hand in
the canister once more. He applied the salve to the correct
shoulder this time, and Jeff’s shoulder started to ease almost
immediately. The smell was awful, but at least the stuff worked,
which was more than he could say for a lot of things he had tried
in his life.

The two men headed back out on deck.
By now the sun was starting to drop in the sky. Jeff looked to the
helm and saw that Crabtree had relieved the Captain from the wheel.
Just then, the Captain stepped out of his cabin. “Ah, Mr. Greene,
do join me. Mr. Robinson shall be serving the evening meal
shortly.”

Jeff thanked Harrison for his lessons
and his salve and walked over to the Captain. “Good God, man!” the
Captain exclaimed. “Don’t tell me… Mr. Harrison’s healing salve. I
should ban him from ever bringing that vile substance on this ship
again!”

Jeff laughed, “Yes, it smells
horrible, but I must say it has made my shoulder feel a lot
better.”

“Very well, do come in, but please
don’t sit too close,” the Captain said with a chuckle.

The two men took their seats at the
table. “Tomorrow, Mr. Greene, we shall meet up with two of our
partner ships in the Brethren of the Coast and we shall prepare for
our first raid on a Spanish settlement known as Cabra Cachonda. The
governor of the settlement is a Spanish noble who has a reputation
for enjoying the finer things in life and we intend to enjoy them
as well. Word is that the settlers make some rather fine rum and
the men of the garrison there are rather fond of it, so they are
not the best guards. With a little luck, we should be able to get
in and out without blood on either side.”

Jeff nodded, “It’s interesting to me
that you seem to avoid violence when you can, Captain. In my day,
the reputation of pirates is that they were bloodthirsty murderers
and rapists.”