The Pirate and The Thief

This is my first attempt at a longer fiction of this nature and I anticipate there will be a fair bit of build up and scene setting. Fear not, the 'juicy bits' will come into the story! I shall try and get an update once a week too. I'd love to hear your feedback and thoughts. Thanks in advance

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The relentless Swari sun beamed down on Molly's head, she pushed fragments of her dark hair out of her face and smiled up at it. It beat the rainy streets of Karana any day. She sat on the forecastle deck mending one of the sails that had been torn in a recent storm. The damage wasn't bad but it needed doing. The work was monotonous and she still needed to concentrate on making the stitches small yet strong enough. The beautiful wind tugged at her hair loose fitting shirt, the smell of the sea washed over her with every small gust; there was nothing like sailing on the sea, even if it was under the command of Captain Bess Rackham, or Iron Bess as she was known among these waters. Her cruel words hadn't yet managed to kill Molly's spirit yet, anything was better than where she'd come from.

She pushed the thoughts aside and continued her stitching. She'd worked on the main tear and now began to work the frayed edges. The canvass was heavy over her knee but once she found her rhythm she found it soothing somehow. The noise of the crew behind her drowned away and the soft rocking of the ship on the waves were calming. They were due to pull into Nass in the next couple of days and the chance to get off ship was a welcome one. She'd enjoyed her first venture into piracy but relished the idea of sleeping in a bed rather than a rickety hammock surrounded by the other crew members.

"How's that sail coming?" Molly jumped. She'd not heard the approach of the boatswain, "Easy lass, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, that's ok, I was day dreaming," she said.

"So, the sail?"

"I'm almost done," she said indicating the stitching.

"Go and see Bess when you're done, she's asking after you."

"Thanks Davie."

The boatswain strode off and Molly resumed stitching, she wondered what Bess would want from her. Aside from the captain, she was the only other woman on board so it was probably to talk about her evil ex-husband or something else along those lines. She had started to do so mid voyage and from time to time she would send for her. The rest of the time she was treated like the rest of the crew -- as a new member of the crew -- which was to say not very well at all. She got the worst of the jobs, the worst of the rations and the least sleep. Rules were rules though and that was the way of it aboard the Red Plunder.

Molly cast off the thread and stuck it through her loose blouse. She then did her best to fold the sail. It was a huge piece of cloth and she measured a little over five foot so it wasn't the easiest task but she managed. She stood and stretched the muscles in her lower back; she'd been hunched over that rag for hours! She motioned to Davie before climbing the stairs to the quarter deck. Bess was standing at the helm discussing something with the navigator, Joe. She placed a rough hand on the wheel before looking up at Molly.

"Just a moment." Molly waited to one side while Bess continued her orders. She wasn't long. "Come on," she said beckoning Molly to follow her into her quarters.

Molly always felt small when she was in Bess's living space. One of the first things she never failed to notice was the pristine bed, always well made; it was huge, bolted to the floor and would beat the swinging hammock she had herself. Bess also had a giant oak desk bolted to the floor with several books on it. There was a chest at the foot of the bed but the best thing of all was the set of plush sofas. The decorations and beauty of the place seemed insignificant when Molly sat on those chairs. There was nothing but wood and deck and uncomfortableness on the rest of the entire ship, it was a real treat to sit on something so wonderful. Not until she was told to though, it would be a crime to do so. Bess waved her arm and Molly relaxed into the feathery comfort. It was worth it just for the opportunity to sit on something so lovely. "What can I do for you Captain?" Molly said.

"I want to know what you're plans are when we hit Nass," Bess said. She pulled two glasses out of a cabinet and poured two glasses of rum, small ones, Molly was technically still on duty and to be caught drunk on duty was to risk a flogging.

"I don't know," she said, taking her glass and swigging the warm amber liquid. It settled in her stomach and she began to glow.

"You should think about it. I need to know how many more I need to take on before we leave and if you intend to jump ship, as so many crew members do, I'd like to know," Bess said her fair eyebrow rising as she spoke. It tilted the hat she wore to a jaunty angle and emphasised her pretty round face. Molly couldn't help feel a pudding when she was next to Bess. She was tall, slender with masses of straight yellow hair, a classical beauty. Whereas Molly was short, curvaceous with heaps of unruly brown curls. She'd never considered herself much to look at and as the years had rolled by; she'd picked up more than one or two grey hairs. She was by no means old, twenty five if she remembered right, but nor was she as young as she once was. Karana had definitely disagreed with her.

"Are you asking me to leave?" she said.

"No, I'm asking for your loyalty," her smile was disarming and Molly couldn't help but smile back.

"It's been an experience here," she said, "One I have found... different but not altogether bad but I don't know if I will come back yet. I want some time to think about it and to sleep on something that isn't rocking or swaying," Molly said.

"I see. Time ashore is something everyone needs from time to time."

"Will you go ashore?" Molly said, unable to keep herself from asking.

"Of course. I need a change from these quarters and to find a man decent enough to occupy some time," she said with a laugh. Molly nodded and lowered her gaze, "You tell me that you've not found anyone to amuse you while you're on board?"

"Captain. How can you ask me that after everything you know?" Molly said.

"Of course, I forgot you were an 'unfortunate' before you were here. Men are all blige rats anyway, sure they're useful for the odd pleasure here or there but when you let one in they take everything from you and leave you dry," she said. Here it comes, the rant about the ex-husband. Bess remained silent however, the words hung in the air unspoken, Molly drained her glass and replaced it on the floor. Bess began muttering about her ex. Molly had heard this before of course. According to Bess, she'd caught him in the arms of another woman, one who Bess insisted was an 'unfortunate', he'd then stolen her maps and made off in his ship and beaten her to all the locations of her treasure bar one. Bess's rage at the mention of her ex-husband was all consuming yet Molly couldn't help wonder what his side of the tale was, why had he been driven to another woman in the first place? She'd never dare to ask Bess though, that would be suicide. She didn't elaborate this time "Tell me of the worst man that you ever fucked," she said.

This was another of Bess's favourite games, "More than one stand out but the worst was the one who drank nothing but coffee and smoked heavily. He never washed and would come visiting while in the worst states of drunk. It would take forever for him to get it up and then forever to get it done. After a while, I'd lay there and wait for him to sort himself out," Molly said unable to look up from the planks of the floor.

"And you had to do him anyway?" The smirk on Bess' face was a picture.

"I had no choice, it was that or starve, why else do you think I stowed away here?" Molly said.

Bess shrugged, "I find it hard to believe you had no other choice," she placed her glass back on the table and stood up. "Think on what I said though, you're becoming a decent member of this crew and I would hate to see you back where you started." Molly took this as her queue and rose from the soft couch. She'd miss sitting on it that she was sure of. She wasn't so sure of the welcome she'd receive if she did come back but that decision was yet before her. She exited the cabin and returned to the deck, where she was soon given work to do by the boatswain.

Four days later, Molly stood on the gangplank leading onto the island town of Nass. The breeze made the heat bearable but only just. It was amazing how much hotter the island was compared to the open sea. This was where she'd caught the ship from in the first place and it was nice to see some familiar ground. Admittedly, she'd not been there for very long but still, it wasn't rocking, it was solid, it was firm and it was filled with people she's not been forced to spend time with for the last three months. She placed her hand on the cutlass at her side, it was a poor looking thing but she knew how to use it in a tight spot, she was reassured by its presence at least. She stepped off the plank and onto the quay. She was disturbed to notice how still it was. The world seemed to continue lurching from side to side; she had to throw out her arms to stop herself from falling. Behind her she could hear the laughs from the crew.

"Strange ain't it!" Len shouted down to her.

"You're telling me!" she called back. She took a deep breath before continuing along her way. She'd agreed to meet some of the lads in a local inn for a few drinks and was looking forward to the next few days. Davie had invited her and she was pleased for the inclusion, maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed, the lads seemed to like her at least. Her first call however was to purchase some new clothes and some better weapons. The money she'd made on board wasn't much but it was enough to keep her going for a while. Then a bath, wash the scent of the sea and sweat from her skin, maybe then she'd feel more of a human again.

It worked, when she entered the bar she felt more than human, she felt divine. She hoped that some of the crew had managed to find the bath house too, smelling bad at sea was understandable but on shore it was unforgiveable. She knew they wouldn't have done so, she remembered the stench of the places before she'd signed up. She threw back the door of the tavern and strode to the bar, "Hey. Moll," it was Davie waving at her from one of the booths. With him was Len, and Rog, next to them were two men she didn't recognise. Must be friends from town. She thought as she ordered a mug of frothy grog. She took the brimming mug and joined her shipmates.

"Has the town stopped rolling yet?" Len asked as she gulped down a mouthful of the bitter liquid.

"Just about," she said with a smile, "Who's this?"

"This is John Smeethington and Bart Turner," Davie said, "Friends from, uh, before," he said.

"Before?" Molly said raising an eyebrow. John exchanged a glance with Bart, who shrugged.

"Before the two Captain's had their falling out," Rog said, "I don't see no point in shying around the subject, its history," Molly drew another pull of her grog and felt the liquid settle in her stomach. It was vile stuff and she didn't know why she drank it but it was cheap and after the new gear she'd purchased, it needed to be. Maybe she would go back and sleep on the ship after all.

"Is he in town then?" she said.

"Oh God's no, no one's seen the Sea Witch for many a month, she should be due in soon enough mind you. Can bet your butt we'll be long gone before then," Len said with a grin that showed his missing teeth.

"Do you not sail anymore?" she said.

"Does she always ask this many questions?" Bart asked. "Bad luck to be sailing with a woman anyway," he snorted as he drained his mug.

"I didn't mean to offend," Molly replied.

"Nay lass, none taken. I've not sailed since the argument and John's taking some time out on account of him uh, well."

"The Captain's temper was ne'er none too great and the voyage after saw him descend into blackness. I canna tell you why it was so but that's the truth of it. I'll more than like go back when they return," he said. Molly nodded, filing the new information away before smiling back at her companions. She drained her mug and slammed it back on the table, "So then Molly, how about you share some of yourself now you know some of us."

"Not much to tell, I'm from Karana," she said

"Thought I recognised your speech," John said. "Have you been there recently? Been a long time since I was in the old country."

"Not since I escaped eighteen months ago," she said, "I doubt it will have changed much, cold damp place, glad to be out of it," it was the truth too.

"Agreed on that point," Davie shuffled out of the seat as they spoke and walked to the bar. The place was filling up and the smell of unwashed bodies, fish and sea salt bombarded Molly as she sat with the group. She was sure the scent was going to stay with her forever. Davie returned with his arms full of booze for them.

"On me this one lads," he said. They all grunted their thanks and drank deep from their mugs. One thing that Molly wasn't used to was the amount the lads drank. She could hold her own up to a certain point but what they did went way beyond that. Getting drunk out of her skull wasn't something she enjoyed but merry was something she did like. It was fast approaching too as she realised that breakfast and lunch were long behind her. Still, she took the mug and drank long. The lad around her began to speak of the past and although she listened with half an ear, she settled in to looking around the tavern. It was packed now. There were pirates of every shape and form surrounding her. The noise was astounding, how she could hear the lads talking she didn't know but she could.

The air was thick with the smoke of many cigars and rolled tabs, Molly could feel it burning her chest already and she fought back a deep cough that would belay her newness to this life style. There was a sudden crack and the bar fell silent for a moment. The curl of smoke at the end of a pistol was seen across the room, a man fell clutching his chest. There was a scream from one of the inn serving girls and the sound of a glass smashing. Davie's hand went to his cutlass but Bart shook his head. Already the body was being dealt with and the cacophony was returning. Molly relaxed and took another long swig of her drink. The incident was soon swept over and the inn returned to its usual debauchery.

Molly continued to enjoy watching the comings and goings of the pirates, the way some of them spoke was like listening to another language. She could make out the odd word, like capstan, and grog but that was it. Her eyes began to get heavy, the warmth in her belly from the grog spread, making her legs feel numb. She yawned and Davie grinned at her, "Night's yet young girl, got a whole lot more drinking to do," she raised a smile and sat up.

"Name of the God's where did you find someone so green?" laughed John.

"Hey, everyone starts somewhere," Molly said. He let out a gawuff with a good natured smile that reached his eyes.

"True lass, very true."

"And she's got the fire to keep the best of men on their toes so I'd be careful if I were you John," Davie said with a wink. John eyed her up and down for a moment before settling back with his mug of grog. She gave him a wolfish smile before drinking some of her own grog, she was surprised to find it empty, no wonder she was beginning to feel warm. Bart drained his mug and glanced around.

"Let's get out of here," he said, his voice low, "I hear Plank and his cronies are playing in a dive just the other side of the walks, not a thing to be missed."

"Surprised they're still going," Len said swallowing his ale. "Didn't plank lose a limb?"

"Yup, he's the drummer now."

"What do you say Moll?" Rog said.

"What's the worst that could happen?" she said with a shrug. It couldn't be any worse than the smoke cut smelly atmosphere here. The tankards were all empty so they all rose. When they hit the docks once more, Molly found the sun had set, had they been in there that long? The wind was cool on her warm skin and she welcomed its caress. The others glanced at the sky, a few stars had started to glitter in the dark expanse, they shrugged and continued to walk down the wharf to the new location. The docks were full of people of all shapes and sizes, women dressed in tight clothes beckoned at doorways, men bumbled to and fro, some drunk, some not so drunk and pirates angled their way through the crowded docks. It was such a shock after being on board the Red Plunder for so long. Molly found herself being bumped and knocked wherever she walked and to her surprise, she discovered that she didn't mind so much. The good natured faces of those coming and going made her pay no mind to them; instead she did her best to keep up with Davie. His bandana was a bright blue, making him an easy target to follow.

After a walk that took twenty minutes longer than it should, they arrived at the new venue. The sign named it the Jolly Rogered, the picture showed a ship in the process of sinking, it seemed fitting somehow. The building itself looked as though it had seen better days, the wooden structure rotten and close to falling down, the windows may once have contained glass but it was long gone. Then John threw the rickety door open and he led them through the portal. Inside was the exact opposite of the outside. It wasn't luxurious but it wasn't falling in either. It took Molly by surprise. The floor was swept and her feet didn't stick to it as they moved towards the bar.

The chairs and tables were clear and the people drinking at them seemed cleaner than those in the last place somehow. The scent of sweat was absent from the air, or at least it was more of an undertone than a dominant scent. She could smell rosewood and was that polish? The lighting was a soft glow provided by enclosed lamps on the wall. Her eyes were drawn not to the bar but to the small raised stage at one end of the square room. On it, setting up some instruments, was a bunch of pirates. "Great, we've not missed them," John said as he sauntered up to the bar.

"Let's get some decent seats!" Davie said as he dragged some chairs over to one of the larger tables near the stage.

"Hoi, its Davie, when did you get back in town?" shouted one of the players.

"Few hours ago Plank."

"Blimey, is that Rog with you? Been a long time since I seen you," Plank said as he placed his fiddle on the floor. At that point, John returned to the table with tankards of grog for them all. Molly sat herself down so she could see the band. They continued to talk as she settled into the cushioned chair. It was comfortable to say the least. The room began to fill with the companionable noise of conversation as people entered the bar. There was a lull in the murmur when the players picked up their instruments. Plank struck two notes on a box and the band burst into life. The jolly sound of the fiddle coupled with the beat of the drum and the clatter of a pair of spoons made for a decent tempo. Molly found her foot tapping along on its own accord and a smile was spreading over her face. Davie grinned at her as he drained his mug.

"Told you they were good," said Bart, she nodded and tapped her hands on her knees along to the beat. The upbeat tempo soothed away the tension she'd been feeling over the past few days and her spirits lifted. Rog and Len were tapping along as well and she couldn't stop from grinning. The score ended and after a quick drink on the part of the players, they launched into a popular shanty that everyone in the tavern knew. The singing was more shouting but she lifted her voice in time with her companions with a genuine feeling of camaraderie. It was the best she'd felt for months.