A problem of pirates, p.1
A Problem of Pirates, page 1
A Problem of Pirates
Arualian Archives, Volume 3
Emily Watson
Published by Emily Watson, 2024.
Table of Contents
Title Page
A Problem of Pirates (Arualian Archives, #3)
1 The Boys Set Sail
2 A Visit to the Docks
3 The Hospitality of the Niantó
4 We Didn’t Mean to Go to Sea
5 The Prudence of the Nianshó
6 We Meet a Queen of the Sea
7 And the Chase is on!
8 The Legend of Salawake’s Gold
9 Walter (Nearly) Dies of Hunger
10 Dangers of the Deep Below (or Amy Sees the Merpeople)
11 The Black Fleet Attacks
12 The Last Leg of the Race
13 And Then There Were None
14 Confronting Captain Corelli
15 The Silence of Dewey’s Sound
16 A Meeting on the Beach
17 Welcome to Bengur Valley
18 We Meet Cap’n and Billy of the Bertha Mae
19 A Meeting with Lionel Crew
20 New Friends and Rash Decisions
21 Sharks on board Fortune’s Wings
22 We Sail into a Den of Thieves
23 The Boys Sail to an Even Worse Den of Thieves
24 The Brawl in the Thirsty Eel
25 The Defeat of the Pitcairn Pirates
26 Sawyer on board Bertha Mae
27 Canticle’s Attack
28 Fishing for Merpeople
29 Canticle’s Aftermath
30 The Secrets of the Merpeople
31 The Mysteries of Maps
32 Journey to the Portal
33 Horseshoe Island and What They Found There
34 Leeches in the Kitchen
35 Walter Makes an Offer
36 The Wrath of the Hurricane
37 The Duel on the Deck of Fortune’s Wings
38 The Sun Comes Out Again
39 Walter Forms a Crew
40 Zudadanz and How to Find Them
41 The Expedition Journeys Through the Portal
42 Twice Saved by Leeches
43 The Nature of Change
44 The Wreck of Bertha Mae
45 The Problem with Thieves
46 The Unreliable Nature of Smugglers
47 To Catch a Thief
48 Amy Dines with Captain Jameson
49 An Invitation to Parley
50 How Hogs Lost His Prisoner
51 Jameson’s Final Bow
52 Aaron Takes a Knee
53 What Followed After
Spread the Word!
About the Author
A Rough Start
A Problem of Pirates
Copyright © 2024 by Emily G. Watson
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organiza- tions, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact :
thistleboundbooks@yahoo.com
Cover Design by Moonpress | www.moonpress.co
Template created by Derek Murphy
First Edition: April 2024
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Dedication
For the crew of The Banana Boat, The Death or Glory, and The Amazon.
And for Davy and Emma. Someday soon, hopefully, we’ll get to go on a grand adventure together.
1 The Boys Set Sail
FOR THE RECORD, I didn’t mean to go getting anyone into trouble. But perhaps, as father said, they should have just put that as my second name.[1]
As the Witness compiles these volumes on the 3rd Age of Awakútan for the Arualian Archives, the others all agreed that I should be the one to tell this story. The Witness is swamped with archiving and translating and cataloguing anyways, so he was more than happy to leave this volume to me.
Now, where to begin?
The pirate problem in the Sunrim Ocean had only been getting worse over the last two years, lots of ships disappearing, seriously impacting trade, and driving up prices of everything, and so on and so forth. So the nations had put together a joint naval force in an effort to squash them. Three new ships, the craftsmanship of the Chalefian navy, unrivaled masters of sailcraft. The latest in Arualian weaponry developed from the explosive mushroom powder of the Wolfmoon Mountains (you will recall this from the Witness’ previous volume, Proving Ground). Companies of Sardunian and Caprikash knights and soldiers. And the generous funding of the Spice Isles. Walter and Aaron were to accompany them, assigned by father, the king, to head the Arualian representation in the Great Fleet, and Sir Percy was to command the regiment in charge of the Arualian firebarrels.
It was a beautiful sunny morning, not a cloud in sight over the Port di Chalef, the day of the send-off. If you have never been to the seaside, then you do not know how truly magical it can be: the smell of the salty sea air that harkens of adventure, the glittering tips of every wave, the gentle crashing of the waves against the shore; an entire world lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be discovered. There are many reasons that mankind dares to venture out into such a dangerous field where nature has declared he was not born to go. How was I supposed to resist that?
But as Walter and Aaron prepared to embark on a high seas adventure, Amy and I were going to be left behind at Chalef for the summer. The three gallant ships bobbed gently at the dock, as if they too were impatient to set sail, and high-pitched trumpets mingled with the cry of the gulls on the breeze.
Dignitaries representing the nations of Chalef and Sardun gave mostly uninspired farewell speeches, wishing the members of the Great Fleet a safe voyage and a successful mission. Father finished it off with a nicely polished address, short and to the point. And then with much cheering and fanfare, Walter and Aaron, along with dozens of knights and sailors from the three countries, boarded the ships and set sail for Caprika.
And that was that. They were off on another grand adventure and had the audacity to leave me behind. Amy was less bothered by this, more intrigued at the prospect of exploring the city of Chalef. And if Walter and Aaron had been around, I would have enjoyed it too. It was a maze of canals, stone arches, tunnels, and bridges, where boats were more common than carriages, holding many secrets to be discovered. But adventure did not await me in Chalef. Only hot summer months of formal meetings and luncheons and evening dinner parties. And I’m afraid I was determined to hate it.
AARON STOOD BESIDE Walter on the sterndeck of Fortune’s Wings, watching the Port di Chalef grow more distant on the horizon. [2] As the deck swayed beneath his feet, his eyes kept drifting to his mother and brother, and to the two womanly figures beside them. It felt strange to be going on an adventure without any of them. It had to be disappointing for Airdella especially, and his heart ached for her. She had always hated being left behind.
“Well, are your men ready for the farewell salute, Your Highness?” someone spoke to Walter beside him.
Ah! The firebarrel demonstration! Aaron stirred himself out of his thoughts and turned towards the captain of Fortune’s Wings. The Chalefian naval officer was of medium height and stocky build. His dark eyes and sharp features were framed by a thin close-trimmed beard and long black hair that was tied loosely at the back of his neck. His eyes gleamed with intelligence, and a hint of a smile played always at the corners of his mouth.
“Whenever you are, Captain,” Walter nodded.
“We are almost to the Clavamoor Buoy.” The captain motioned with his cigar towards the bow of the ship. A large buoy floated on the waves of the harbor ahead of them, the bell on top clanging its warning to all passing ships that here they were about to enter the open sea.
“Well then, Sir Percy, would you prepare the firebarrels, sir?”
“With pleasure, my lord.” Sir Percy saluted and walked down to the main deck.
“I am looking forward to seeing these firebarrels in action,” Colonel Bridgeworth said, looking out over the main deck and clasping his hands behind his back. Aaron noted how the man rose slightly onto his toes, his large white mustache twitching.
“As am I,” Aaron told the Sardunian officer. His heart beat faster in anticipation as he watched Sir Percy and his men prepare the weapons for salute.
The long iron cylinders were spaced along the sides of the main deck, six on each side, like long narrow bells laid on their sides on wooden supports. The latest weapon that the Arualian military engineers had invented for using the mushroom powder, which had come to be called firepowder so as not to reveal the secret of its origins. A paper cartridge, similar to the stuffed paper balls used by the harab, was stuffed down into the end of the cylinder, then a round ball of carved stone. When the powder was set off with fire, it propelled the projectile out of the end of the cylinder.
Chosen men of the 44th Regiment now rolled them into position along the sides of the deck using ropes and pulleys. The force of the explosion would thrust the barrels backwards in the opposite direction. So the engineers had added wheels to the barrels to allow them to move safely without getting damaged. The barrels were loaded with powder cartridges but no stones, as this was merely a sal ute. No need to go hurling projectiles at the Port di Chalef.
“Set fire!”
At Sir Percy’s command, a man at each barrel touched a long pole with a smoldering wick into a hole in the top of the barrel.
Boom! Aaron felt the vibrations pulse through his body and the deck beneath his feet. The sound of the explosions echoed off the water and against the walls of the harbor. Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw Walter give a small jump and then a quick swallow. Small wonder that Walter would shudder, for it was an explosion of the same firepowder that had taken half of his hearing away just two years ago.
A hearty cheer went up from the crew of the ship and was returned by the two other ships, who took their cue from Fortune’s Wings and lit their own firebarrels. The Sardunian companies struck up a hearty chorus as they sailed past the Clavamoor Buoy. They had officially left the harbor and were now at sea.
“Brilliant!” Colonel Bridgeworth exclaimed. He clapped Walter on the shoulder. “We’ll show those pirates what for, eh?”
Walter gave a laugh, for the enthusiasm and cheerfulness of the man was hard to ignore. “Indeed, Colonel.”
Aaron too gave a chuckle as the colonel hurried down the steps to the main deck and bent over to examine the iron barrels. Though the older man’s hair was white with age, his energy and strength seemed not to have been touched by it. The man stood a head taller than almost anyone on board the ship, and he made a dashing figure in his yellow-gold jacket that he wore over his chainmail shirt. His only volume seemed to be shouting, and Aaron could hear his hoarse barking as he bent over the firebarrels and talked to Sir Percy.
Shouting that, though loud, Aaron knew that Walter couldn’t hear, hard as he might concentrate. He turned to look at Walter, who in turn was now glancing back at the buoy behind them. “You alright?” he asked.
“Mmm? Yeah, fine. It just feels strange, doesn’t it? Not having them along?”
Aaron glanced at the docks back at the port, now too far away to make out any individual people. “Does feel wrong. But I am glad that they’ll be safe, out of harm’s way. However long that lasts.”
“I’m sure Airdella will find some kind of trouble to rustle up in Chalef,” Walter chuckled. “Shouldn’t take too long.”
“On the bright side,” Aaron shrugged, “at least I won’t have to listen to you two arguing all the time.”
“Well, at least I won’t have to listen to you two flir – ”
Boom! Another loud explosion shook the boards beneath them, and they looked back at the main deck. Apparently, Colonel Bridgewater had asked for one more demonstration, for he and Sir Percy stood beside one of the barrels, waving away the cloud of smoke coming out of the end of it.
Captain Gattone on the other end of the ship seemed to take no notice besides a glance over his shoulder, then after a pull on his cigar, issued an order to his first officer Salvo to finish making full sail.
Aaron watched the crew move about the deck and up into the rigging. Fortune’s Wings served as the flagship of the Great Fleet, and she really was a beautiful ship. Her new decks were smooth and clean, the sails on her four masts trim and tidy, and every bit of brass polished to perfection. Her golden-orange color glowed like a sunrise. Her figurehead was a woman in a golden robe with an outstretched hand, her wings wrapped around the ship’s prow. The other two vessels, Tiger’s Teeth and Kestral’s Claws, were identical in design to her. But Tiger’s Teeth was painted a blood-red with black stripes, and her figurehead was a tiger, its mouth open in a roar, and its fangs glistening in the morning sun. Kestral’s Claws was as colorful as her namesake, beautiful blues and oranges, her figurehead’s beak and curved claws extended.
Surrounded as they were by men of the regiments and companies of Arualia and Sardun, it was a little strange to see so many women on board the ship. The independent city-state of Chalef, given that the water and ships were such an important part of their culture and daily life, did not shy away from allowing women sailors, unlike most countries. Nearly half of the crew of Fortune’s Wings were women. They reminded Aaron once again of Airdella, with their dark curly hair and olive complexions. She had taken after her father the king, whose lineage was from eastern Arualia. Aaron could easily see Airdella as one of them.
Salvo came aft to the quarterdeck and told the helmsman to make a course due east.
“Due east it is, sir!” the helmsman said. “Chasin’ that sunrise.”
Walter cocked his head at the man’s accent. “Southern March?”
“Born ’n’ raised, Your Highness!” the man nodded. His brown shaggy hair was bleached with highlights from long days in the sun, and his skin while tanned and calloused was still pale enough to make him stand out from the Chalefians around him. “I was a Voyager for ten years, been at sea another five. When I heard about the new ships being built for the Fleet, I just had to be a part of it.” He slapped his hand on the ship’s wheel. “This is the future of ship building, Your Highness!”
“How so?” Aaron asked. Although he had come to know a little more about ships over the last few weeks, he was still unfamiliar with ship designs and engineering.
The helmsman pointed towards the other two ships off to the port side of Fortune’s Wings. “They’re designed for the chase. Narrow hulls and shallow drafts make them fast. We can sail closer to windward than any other known type of ship of this size. Pirates won’t be able to outrun us. And if they try to enter a cove or an area with shoals and shallow water, we’ll be able to follow them.”
Aaron smiled at the man’s passionate enthusiasm. “They are certainly beautiful ships.”
“Of course, out of the three, I’ve grown partial to Fortune,” the helmsman said, patting the ship’s wheel affectionately. “We’re off on a grand adventure! Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. And of course, fortune’s on our side.”
Walter gave a chuckle at his pun. “Indeed, we are. Your name, good sir?”
“Hank.”
“Hank. Glad to have you aboard, sir.”
“Glad to be here, Your Highness. We’ll see where the wind takes us.”
2 A Visit to the Docks
IT WAS A LONG tiring week in Chalef. While the city itself was beautiful, Amy and I were never allowed to roam it independently. Instead, we spent most of our time confined within the grounds of the Palace di Chalef. The gardens were gorgeous, and the view from the ramparts overlooking the sea was fantastic. But it was still confining behind that wall. There were alleyways and canals and street markets out there, unexplored.
And there were the duties of being Princess Regent, which meant I had to attend every state meeting that father did. If anything were to ever happen to him, he wanted me to know of all the goings-on between Arualia and the other nations.
Even when I was not in meetings, I could hardly find a moment’s peace from the dozen counts and knights and dignitaries hovering around me. I knew what they were after. While some buzzed about like bees, hoping to gain my favor and court me into a marriage, others schemed ideas to propose a marriage contract, dropping not-so-subtle hints about how advantageous it would be for Arualia to strengthen her connections with whatever country.
After enduring a painful evening banquet on the seventh day, I sought refuge in a tower high above the palace to watch the sunset and breathe the sea breeze in peace without any annoying politicians or courtiers. The tower was over the servant quarters and held little interest to the nobility, and I had yet to find one of them in this part of the palace.
“Knock knock,” a voice interrupted my solitude. Father stood at the top of the narrow winding staircase.
“Good evening.” I gave a smile at seeing his face framed in the doorway. He looked about as tired and drained as I felt.
“Not meaning to interrupt your peace and quiet,” he said. “Truth is I could do with some myself. Permission to intrude?”
“Granted.” I scooted over on the wooden bench to make room for him.
Sitting down beside me, he stretched out his long legs in front of him and leaned back. We sat in silence together, watching the golden sky turn to orange with streaks of purple.
“How many did you get today?” I finally asked.
