Witches Be Crazy, page 12
Lee and Jimminy both fell to silence as they awaited Dungar’s response. Dungar turned to Jimminy. He still had no idea what to tell his faithful sidekick who had proven to be startlingly useful over the last few days. But the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Best to just lay it out there and hope he was still receptive to the idea.
“Listen, Jimmy, I haven’t been completely honest with you …”
“You mean we actually are going to kill the queen?”
“Well, yes. You see—”
“Alrighty.”
Dungar had no idea what to say. Did that really just happen that easily?
“You … You understand, Jimmy?”
“Sure, mate.” Jimminy smiled. “March into the castle and assassinate the most powerful woman in all the land. Should be a blast.”
“BULLY!” Lee announced. “Now let’s quit boshin’ and get to ambulatin’!”
As the trio, and Shaffleton, set off at a nice, brisk walk northward, Dungar still couldn’t get over Jimminy’s willingness to help.
“Jimmy you do realize this is going to be incredibly dangerous, right?”
“Oh, Mista Dungar!” Jimminy praised, putting his arm around Dungar. “Are you worried about poor li’l me?”
“I’m just trying to warn you!” Dungar growled as he gave Jimminy a shove.
Jimminy’s eyes remained as optimistic and carefree as ever. The change of mission objective did not seem to have impacted him in the slightest. He gave Dungar a knowing smile.
“Well wot else am I gonna do with me time, mate? Committing high treason or just helping me pal grope n’ poke his way onto the throne is all the same to me! Can’t just sit and kill time or time will just kill me, mate.”
“HAH.” Lee cackled from behind them. “Yer an ugly feller and yer voice sounds like an ungreased wagon, but you talk some good wisdom, son.”
“Thank you for your backhanded compliments, person-who-I-have-no-idea-who-you-are!”
“No problem, boy.” Lee grunted before horking and spitting into some bushes. “I’d advise ye to not abandon yer initial intentions though. That feller over there seems like he could certainly use him a good horizontal hoedown.”
“Enough, both of you!” Dungar barked.
“Wuh oh.” Lee blurted, his grey eyes making contact with Dungar’s. “We got ’im lookin’ madder than an acocked coon!”
“Just duck if he takes a swing at ya, mate.”
Sir Lee put up his fists and began jokingly dancing around Dungar like a boxer.
“I ain’t fraid of no hopped up buster! I’d clean his plough if he—”
His voice trailed off as Dungar gave him a one-armed shove down a nearby hill.
“That gent’s got a rather bizarre way of speaking.” Jimminy pointed out as the two kept walking.
“I don’t particularly care a continental fer yer attitude, boy!” Lee hollered from the bottom of the hill. “But jokes on you! I was goin’ in this direction anyway.”
“… But god help me if I don’t love it.” Jimminy smiled.
“We should probably go find him before he gets lost just to spite me.” Dungar sighed.
They made their way down the hill into a thicker part of the woods. Shrubs and brush covered the ground, impeding their vision of anything below their waists. Slowly and carefully they waded through the bushes, trying to avoid getting tripped up on anything.
“I don’t see him anywhere, Jimmy.”
“Perhaps he encountered a ‘posse’ of ‘outlaws’ and has now found himself to be ‘pushing up daisies?’” Jimminy suggested sarcastically.
Dungar had to admit, given the man’s temperament, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was indeed the situation, but opted to keep looking anyway. They exited the tree cover and found themselves on the beach of a gigantic lake. The water was a rich blue and had an oddly inky consistency to it. However, it shimmered in the daylight nonetheless as it stretched far into the horizon, farther than the eye could see.
“Ah the balmy shores of Deeplu Lake.” Jimminy mused as he inhaled deeply. “You know, mate, if we found a way across it would really cut down on our travel time to Jenair.”
“Blech! Y’all would be right smart to not tread into that mockered death trap.” Lee called out, emerging from the woods behind them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dungar asked.
“It means that any odd stick who sails them there waters is off his chump!”
“Why?”
“IT AIN’T MY DUTY TO EDUCATE YOU, BOY!” Lee bellowed, causing Jimminy to jump. He cleared his throat and regained his composure before he continued. “The notion of bein’ on them waters makes me more nervous than a long-tailed hound in a room fulla rocking chairs.”
Dungar weighed his options. He was so sure that Sir Lee would be an asset to his quest, given his similar motives and apparent former knighthood. However, in the brief period that Dungar has gotten to know him, his cold callousness as well as over-inflated sense of his abilities had proven to be worrisome. Dungar was fine to simply overlook such drawbacks in exchange for the man’s aid, but his seemingly irrational aversion to crossing the lake would cost them precious time that they couldn’t afford to lose. His mind made up, Dungar addressed Sir Lee again.
“Well, sir, it looks like this is where we’ll part ways then.”
“Yer leavin’ me to go lone star are ya, son?”
“You can come with us, but we’re going by boat. No two ways about it. We need to shave time however we can.”
“So be it, boy. If ya live, then best of luck. But you probably won’t, so don’t worry, I’ll bury the bitch when I get there.”
Without so much as another word, Sir Lee strode back into the forest and vanished amongst the trees.
“Wot about you then, gorgeous?” Jimminy asked Shaffleton. “Ready to try your sea legs?”
Shaffleton stopped his chewing and looked at Jimminy. He then spit out his mouthful of cud and galloped away into the forest as well, ignoring Jimminy’s calls after him.
“Blimey. Maybe he gets seasick.”
“Jimmy” Dungar asked cautiously “Is there something I need to know about this lake?”
“Not at all, mate!” Jimminy answered confidently. “Now c’mon, let’s go charter us a ride.”
They set off down the beach towards a dock off in the distance. Dungar still couldn’t shake his growing uneasy feeling towards the lake. He was sure Jimminy was holding back some kind of information. However he had committed to this course of action now, there was no going back. Jimminy, on the other hand, carried on careless as usual. Given the man’s propensity to brazenly disregard danger though, it was difficult to discern any sort of comfort from his nonchalance.
“So tell me, mate, why exactly are we going to murder missus queen lady?”
“Long story short, Jimmy, she’s going to murder all of us.”
“Well that’s not very nice of her.”
“… No, I guess it isn’t.”
“I haven’t even met the lady! Why would she want to murder me?”
Dungar sighed at such a stupid question. “I don’t think it’s some kind of personal vendetta. Some people are just evil, and some of them are able to use their power to hurt people. Look at Herrow.”
“I’m not sure I agree with that, mate. If folks do bad things it doesn’t make them bad people. I think Miss Herrow is just a bit misguided.”
“She tried to have us brutally killed in order to line her pockets.”
“Maybe her mum is really sick?”
Dungar slapped his palm to his face. He couldn’t help but feel a shred of admiration for the man’s optimism, even though it transcended the bounds of simple positivism and encroached well into the endless field of naiveté. At least in Dungar’s not-so-humble opinion, anyway.
“So wait, why are you willing to help me kill the queen then?”
“Well you said it yourself, mate. She’s going to murder me.”
“Well what if she has her own ‘misguided’ reasons for doing so?” Dungar asked sarcastically.
“Perhaps she does, mate! That’s okay. I guess it’s just a matter of who murders who first then.”
Dungar was starting to find Jimminy’s rationale very intriguing. He was tempted to grill him some more on it, but that would have to wait until later. They had reached the dock now, and a much more pressing issue had occurred to Dungar. They didn’t have a copper between the two of them; how were they going to buy a ride? A similar notion must have occurred to Jimminy, because he addressed Dungar with his usual famous last words.
“Relax, mate. I’ll handle this.”
Dungar waited outside as Jimminy confidently strolled into the nearby shack. A shrill scream was heard, followed by Jimminy’s voice.
“Terribly sorry, madam! I thought this was the ticket booth!”
The door swung open and a very large woman with a robe wrapped around her threw Jimminy back outside by his hair.
“You’re very pretty, by the way!” He offered sheepishly before the door was slammed in his face. He turned back to Dungar. “Apparently it’s next door.” He chuckled. Still laughing to himself, he strode over to the next building and walked inside. Dungar shook his head and turned back to the tree line. He spotted some berry bushes and was instantly reminded how ravenous he was. During his imprisonment he had received occasional rations of bread and water, but it was hardly more than enough to stave off death.
Trying to distract himself, he turned back towards the lake. There was only one ship docked there, a triple-masted vessel painted a deep forest green. Having lived in a desert all his life, Dungar knew next to nothing about boats. All he could tell was that it was big with a spacious lower deck and had a rather large amount of sails affixed to each other in a very intricate fashion. He figured it was likely a supply boat, mostly because he couldn’t imagine what else a ship of that size would be used for on a lake like this.
“I told ya, mate!”
Dungar turned to see Jimminy walking out of the building towards him.
“How did it go in there?” Dungar asked him.
“Swimmingly!” Jimminy insisted, walking right past Dungar and towards the boat. “Yup, I worked me charm on the nice gent and, sure enough, he said it was no problem!”
Dungar followed after him.
“Seriously? What did you say to him?”
“Oh you know.” Jimminy mused as he carefully walked up the gangplank. “Just that we were hopeless wanderers who had fallen onto some hard times and could use a break and all that rubbish.” He paused as he reached the deck of the ship and quickly scanned around before carrying on.
Dungar paused as he reached the deck too, but not to scan around. While no one could possibly plot out the twisted, non sensical depths of Jimminy’s mind, Dungar was beginning to grasp some of the finer details; such as when all was not as Jimminy would have it appear to be. As such, Dungar had a bad feeling that they may not indeed be as welcome on this ship as his partner would have him believe. However, Jimminy had already disappeared below deck and Dungar wasn’t about to strand him on this boat alone. He followed Jimminy down the stairs and watched as the man turned to the left and crouched behind a stack of barrels.
“What are you doing, Jimmy?”
“Oh, uh, I think I forgot something down here.”
“… We just got on this boat less than thirty seconds ago.”
“Hah. You said it, mate. Say, I think you forgot something over there behind these crates.”
The sound of footsteps on the deck above caused Dungar to think that perhaps he did indeed forget something behind that stack of crates. He moved over towards them and sat on the ground on the corner where he was obscured; settling in for what was likely to be a long and uncomfortable journey.
The room was very dimly lit by whatever sunlight could make it through cracks in the deck and bulkheads; it reminded Dungar of his cell back at the arena. The room was certainly large enough for them to hide in. It spanned the entire width of the ship and was loaded with assorted barrels, crates, and sacks. It smelled of fish, wine, and, oddly enough, gunpowder. As he listened to the flapping of the sails and the creaking of the mast, Dungar traced his finger along the floor. It was coated with a layer of a dark and greasy substance which clung to his finger and stained his clothes.
“Jimmy!” Dungar hissed. “I thought you said it was no problem.”
“That’s my mistake, mate. What I meant to say was that it may actually be a slight problem.”
Dungar clenched his teeth and shook his head. He decided this is really his own fault for gambling on Jimminy’s schemes.
“So what happens if they find us?”
“Well it depends. They could either let us stay, or they could throw us overboard. It’s anyone’s guess, really.”
Dungar sighed. Jimminy clearly had no answers to give him, and he had no energy left to drag them out even if the man did. The day had been long and arduous, and the only thing on his mind was getting some sleep. If they ended up getting discovered then he would just have to deal with it then.
The two men were awoken when the silhouettes of a number of individuals all came bursting into the room carrying sacks and crates of unknown contents. At a very speedy and efficient pace they tossed whatever they were carrying into the room and hurried out to make room for the seemingly endless line of people behind them. After a few minutes the bustling finally died down and Jimminy and Dungar were once again left alone in the room, which was now stacked deck to overhead with assorted kinds of cargo. Within moments of the crew’s exit, Dungar felt the ship lurch as it began to depart.
“That was impressively efficient.” Dungar pointed out.
“Indeed. This definitely isn’t a ship from the Jenair navy.” Jimminy deduced. “They’re the laziest buggers you’ll ever meet.”
“So who are they then? Private cargo shippers?”
“Probably. Although there is one other possibility.”
“What’s that?”
Before Jimminy could answer all the boxes and crates they were hidden behind were tossed aside to reveal five men. One of them was holding a torch while the other four had their cutlasses drawn and pointed at the stowaways. They wore white linen shirts with assorted golden adornments that sparkled as they reflected the flame’s light. The four swordsmen also wore eye patches, although it was hard to tell as they were mostly hidden behind the black braids spilling down in front of their faces.
“Well” Jimminy acknowledged. “I was going to say it could also be a cruise ship. But I suppose this being a pirate ship is also a feasible circumstance.”
They were ushered up the stairs at sword point until they reached the main deck where a crowd had gathered. Dungar surveyed the assortment of faces that lay their eyes upon him, each meaner looking than the last. Skins of every hue and bodies of every size were represented by the crew. Despite being a well varied company of gentlemen, Dungar got the sinking feeling that they did not take kindly to uninvited guests. Suddenly a body came falling from up above, landing gracefully on its feet before Dungar and Jimminy.
“Yahaharrr!! What have we here, me hearties?!”
He was a tall and incredibly handsome middle-aged man. As he straightened up, he swept his smooth, jet black hair behind his ears as he sized up his captors with his confident and charismatic green eyes. His lips were curled into a smile that enhanced the deeply ingrained laugh lines on his face, which was completely clean shaven, save for his magnificent mutton chops.
“Ahoy, me bilge rat beauties!” He addressed them in a voice every bit at confident and charismatic as the eyes that gazed at them. “You are here to join me crew, no? Because surely none would dare be so foolish to try and steal passage aboard the intimidating vessel of Captain Nobeard the fierce! Isn’t that right, boys?!”
A chorus of “Arrrr”s erupted from the crew.
“As a matter of fact, wouldn’t you believe it, we actually were here to do such a thing!” Jimminy insisted.
Nobeard began to pace quickly in circles around the pair, his long legs taking lengthy strides at a fast pace. Jimminy tried to spin in tandem with the captain while Dungar elected to not bother and simply stand still.
The captain was clearly an energetic man. He wore a long black overcoat with golden trim that flapped behind him as he continued his circular pacing. He then broke into a run towards a nearby rope which he used to swing up to the next level of the deck next to the helm.
“Do ye know what it means to be a pirate?!” He called down to them.
“Pillaging, plundering, rifling, and looting!” Jimminy called back.
“Shut up!” Nobeard ordered him without missing a beat. He struck an epic pose with his hands on his hips, looking stoically off into the distance.
“Me hearties, I stand before ye a true pirate to my core! I have indeed stolen and pillaged before. But that is not all there is to we! We fine family who sail this sea! We do our due diligence to share all our wealth. We promote unity and peace and good health!” He paused briefly for a moment to turn back to Dungar and Jimminy. “We steal from the rich and give to the poor is really what I’m trying to say here.”
From somewhere within the crowd an accordion and drum began playing. With hoots and yells of approval, the entirely crowd on deck burst into a drunken and uncoordinated dance session. Jimminy was all too happy to immediately join in and link arms with the nearest scurvy dog.
“Yar har fiddle de dee, being a pirate is alright with me! I’ve always wanted to swashbuckle.”
“We still from the rich and give to the poor.” Nobeard repeated as he too began to sway in tune with the music. “But we be more than your commoner altruistic outlaw! We are the very image of that which is not changeable, we are experts in every theft tactic that is stageable, we carry out our deeds to keep the wealth all rearrangeable, despite the occupational hazards being quite unassuageable!” He paused briefly yet again and turned back to Dungar. “Really what I’m trying to say here is that in matters profitable, cartable, and sinkable, I am the very model of a modern mighty liberal!”
