In celebration of Talk Like A Pirate Day, I thought I would give you a couple of jokes and my pirate scene excerpt from my book. Whaddya say?
Aye Mateys! Here we go. First a couple of jokes for you:
How much does it cost a pirate to get his ears pierced? A Buccaneer! (A buck an ear...)
What is a pirates favorite kind of socks? Arrrgyle!
What is a pirates favorite letter? Arrrrggghhh!
And last but not least: A pirate walks into a bar with a ship's wheel dangling from his crotch. The bartender says, "You realize you have a ship's wheel dangling there, don't you?" to which the pirate responds, "Aye! It's drivin' me nuts!"
Yeah, I hear the groans and boos from here. Hehe! Okay, here is my excerpt. Enjoy!
Merydwen had risen high up in the cloudless sky when several of Toreg's crewmen dragged Trinara, Hedric and Nalatha, the young Nobleman's daughter, up on deck. Yorn and Kalurn had died from their wounds several days ago, their bodies thrown over the railing into the ocean without ceremony. Nalatha shrieked and cried as they dragged her towards the main mast and shackled her there. Trinara held her chin up as they shoved her and Hedric roughly, trying to incite a response.
Around them, the crew laughed and pointed in their direction, calling out insults and jibes, making rude gestures. The iron cuffs around Trinara's wrists cut into her skin. The blood trickling down her hands.
“Enough!” a man bellowed from up on the quarterdeck. “Shut it, you bunch of rum swiggin' barnacles.” Trinara recognized him as he had paid them a visit down in the brig. Now he descended the stairs, pushing his way through the crewmen on deck to stand before them.
“Toreg.” Hedric said coolly.
“I said shut it, filth.” Toreg struck Hedric hard across the face, snapping his head back against the wooden mast they had tied him to. “You will speak when I tell you to speak.”
Around them, the crew laughed maliciously and shouted their agreement. A few of them taunted Hedric and Trinara while others harassed Nalatha.
“Leave her be,” Hedric growled at the nearest pyrate. They all laughed loudly as Toreg walked around Trinara.
“They don't take orders from people like you,” Toreg snarled. He stood with his face inches from Hedric.
“But you do, don't you Toreg. How much coin did Li'endrin drop in your slimy hand to attack us? I bet you've been holding out on your crew, haven't you? Have you split that with them yet?” A few murmurs could be heard from the crew as they looked about, casting cold glances at their Captain. For the moment all of the attention turned to Hedric, the young girl forgotten.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Toreg said. He moved over to the girl and unlocked the shackles holding her to the mast. “Now then, how about a little entertainment for the crew?” Toreg pulled the girl towards him and turned her to face Hedric. She struggled trying to pull away from him, but he held her tightly against him, one arm wrapped around her chest and the other gripping her face, contorting her features.
“Let her be, Toreg.” Trinara pulled on the chains holding her in place. “She's done nothing to you.”
“Or for me for that matter. I intend to let the crew have some fun once I am finished with her. It's been quite some time since we've been able to stay long in any port. Your warships have seen to that.”
“You haven't been able to rest because you have Sorcha on your tail,” Hedric said. “Don't try to pin the blame on me.”
Toreg snorted and pushed the girl roughly towards some of the men standing off to one side and moved to unlock Trinara.
“I wouldn't unlock her if I were you.” Hedric grinned, watching Trinara carefully. “She'll grab the first thing she can use as a weapon and run you through. I've seen her use spoons before.”
“I think my crew can handle her well enough,” Toreg sneered. He unlocked one of her wrists and stepped back quickly, letting his crew surge forward.
“Ship ho!” a voice suddenly called out of the moonlit night.
“All hands, man your stations!” Toreg barked out commands and everyone on deck scattered, scrambling to follow orders. “Bearings!”
“She's right on top of us, Cap'n.”
“She?” Toreg squawked.
“It's Sorcha, Cap'n.”
Toreg ran to the railing and saw Sorcha's ship closing fast. All of her lamps were out, she had been sailing dark. The moonlight shone off of the white sails of her ship and suddenly a large fiery orb caught Toreg's attention.
“She's firing, Cap'n!” the look-out called down.
“I can see that for myself!”
The orange ball of flame grew larger as it got closer and Toreg squealed before running for cover. The burning ball of pitch flew high above the heads of the crew, slamming into the mainsail and burning its way through before falling to the deck. Soon after, ballista flew high and fast, unlit but trailing flaming rope. Even if the bolts missed their marks, the ropes landed across the rails and decks, igniting everything in their wake.
Toreg looked up and saw that each of the sails had been set alight and his ship slowed in the water, coming to a stop. The creak of the ship and the crackle of flames could be heard for just a moment, then panic set in and crew scattered in every direction. Some ran for water to douse the flames while others passed out weapons to prepare for the imminent fight.
“Cap'n,” the lookout called down, his voice hoarse from the smoke. “She's increased speed, she's heading straight for us. Cap'n brace for impact!”
Toreg snapped out orders but they went unheeded as the crew scrambled to put out the fires. The flames had almost gotten under control when suddenly everyone was knocked from their feet as Sorcha's ship rammed Toreg's. The sound of wood cracking filled the dark night and everyone tried to find something to hold on to. Nalatha, having been released by the pyrate holding her, now teetered near the port railing, arms pin-wheeling as she tried to regain her balance. Another jolt as Sorcha's ship pushed into Toreg's sent the girl over into the water.
Trinara had one hand free of the chains and as Toreg slid past, she grabbed for the keys clutched in his hand. She jerked them free with a hard, painful twist and released her other hand from the shackles.
“I'm going after Nalatha,” she shouted to Hedric, tossing him the keys. Toreg tried to scramble back up to the mast to retrieve his keys, but the ship listed hard to port. Shouts could be heard from the other ship and as Toreg and his men tried to gain their legs, Trinara sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Sorcha Lilanthroe had found them.
“Don't be stupid,” Hedric tried to tell Trinara. “She's gone overboard.”
“That doesn't mean she's dead. You just make sure Sorcha gets us both out of the water.” Trinara turned on her heel and let her momentum take her to the railing where she clumsily dove into the water to save the young Noblewoman.
On deck, Toreg shouted orders at his crew, his voice cracking with panic.
“Hard to starboard! Weigh anchor!”
“Too late,” a woman yelled over the din. “There is no where for you to go.” Sorcha leapt onto the deck, sword in hand and a grin on her face. “I have been looking forward to this day, you sad excuse for a dung heap.”
“Let's get this over with, then,” Toreg said, drawing his own sword. He shook so badly, he could not hold his sword straight. He put on a brave face, but as soon as Sorcha advanced, he yelped and ran. Sorcha gave chase, practically all over the ship. At one point, Toreg hid behind the mast where Hedric remained chained and lashed out at the woman from either side. Sorcha snarled and smacked his sword away as if swatting at an irritating fly.
“Stop playing around, you fool!” she hollered.
Someone slammed into Sorcha from behind, pushing her into Hedric. She jabbed upwards with her elbow, connecting with someone's head as Hedric kicked out with his foot, pushing the person off of the female Captain.
“Thanks,” she breathed, winking at Hedric.
“Anytime. Just get us out of here, will you?”
Toreg appeared to the left of Hedric and instead of dodging his wild swing, Sorcha grabbed his wrist and tugged hard. Toreg's face met the mast with an audible crunch and he sank to the ground.
“Cap'n!” Fromas shouted out a warning. Sorcha whirled in time to see two of Toreg's crew closing in on her, swords raised. She pulled a dagger from her boot and began to parry the blows, twisting from side to side as each of her attackers struck. She turned and brought the pommel of her cutlass down hard on top of the head of one, then twisted again, shoving her dagger between the ribs of the other.
Shouts and the clang of metal on metal surrounded her, but she focused all of her attention on yet another assailant, sending the blade of her cutlass over his throat before turning back to where Toreg still lay in an unconscious heap. She raised her blade over the still man's head. Before she could swing down, she was tackled from behind and rolled along the deck with another of Toreg's faithful. They were loyal, she had to give them that much. The man's weight crushed her to the deck and his dagger bit into the flesh of her shoulder.
Suddenly the man was lifted to his feet and the point of a sword burst from his chest, spraying Sorcha's face with blood. As the man dropped lifelessly to the ground, Hedric offered a hand to her, helping her to her feet, one hand still locked in the manacle, but free from the mast.
“Thanks,” Sorcha grinned. “Wasn't quite sure how I was going to get out of that one. Unai must love me.” Hedric just shook his head and grinned in spite of himself.
Sorcha grabbed one of the lamps that still glowed brightly on the deck and smashed it, sending oil and flames everywhere. She returned to where Toreg lay and quickly decapitated the man, holding up his head and hollering for the fighting to cease.
“To the Plains of Afterlife for all who followed this filthy cur!” she yelled, raising the head again. A cheer from her crew erupted. Fromas brought her a burlap sack and she dumped her prize into it unceremoniously. All of Toreg's remaining crew dropped their weapons to the deck with a loud clatter.
“No quarter!” Sorcha snarled.
Every last one of Toreg's men were killed on the spot. The ship burned brightly in the night as Sorcha and her men took their wounded back to her ship. Hedric grabbed Sorcha by the shoulder and spun her around.
“There are two women overboard,” he said, releasing her as he caught her glare. “We need to pick them up.”
“Since when are we a rescue vessel?” one of her men muttered, overhearing the comment.
“Since the last time we pulled someone out of the drink,” Sorcha sighed.
“What?” Hedric stared at the woman. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind, lad. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Let's get those girls, shall we?”