Witches Be Crazy, page 13
Uncomfortable to the point of physical pain, Dungar gritted his teeth and slowly tried to back away below deck. But the captain was there blocking his path in a flash.
“Buck up, ye scallywag! Where be yer piratin’ spirit?” He grinned, clasping a hand onto Dungar’s shoulder.
“I left it below deck.” Dungar replied as he tried to push past the man’s arm. Captain Nobeard, however, moved about as much as a tree.
Hand still on Dungar’s shoulder; Nobeard leaned in closer so he could lower his voice.
“I am no fool, me lad. Ye be needing thicker wool if ye intend to pull it over these eyes.”
Dungar kept quiet, trying to figure out exactly what this meant for his fate.
“Fear not yet, lad, I am not in the business of keelhauling every unfamiliar sea rover aboard this vessel. However, this be no charity liner either. Okay well that’s not entirely true, we do the whole steal from the rich and give to the poor thing, but not the type of charity ye be expectin’!”
“So what do you want then?” Dungar asked. “If you expect me to sing and dance then you may as well just kill me now.”
“Step into me captain’s quarters, ye drivelswigger. I’ll give ye the skinny.”
They maneuvered through the crowd, still in full swing of the impromptu dance-a-thon, and into the room located beneath the helm of the ship. As they stepped inside, Dungar was floored by the interior which was nothing like he was expecting. It was a small and cramped room; however the walls were completely covered by exquisite paintings in very expensive looking frames. Arranged among the paintings on the wall was also an impressive collection of intricate looking clocks. There was also a desk against the wall which was likely where future excursions were plotted since it was covered by maps, compasses, and sextants. Most bizarre of all, though, was the big four poster bed in the corner that was adorned with brilliant pink silken sheets.
“What’s your name, sea rat?”
“Dungar.”
“Dungar what?”
“Dungar Loloth.”
“Dungar Loloth what?”
“Dungar Loloth nothing, that’s my bloody name.”
“No, sailor. I mean ye are to address me as captain when ye speak to me.”
“I’m going to assume that is just a suggestion, and I am going to decline.”
Captain Nobeard laughed heartily as he opened the drawer of his desk. From the drawer he produced a brown bottle which he uncorked and took a swig from.
“Yer not making yerself easy to work with, mister Loloth.”
“I am not your employee, captain Nobeard, I am merely seeking passage to Jenair. If I am to earn my keep then so be it; but I am no pirate, glamorous as you try to make it sound.”
Captain Nobeard stepped towards him, the height difference between the two forcing Dungar to crane his neck upward.
“Ye be makin’ pretty brazen demands for a soul completely at me mercy.” Nobeard acknowledged with a smirk. “But I suppose the life of sweet trade is not for all. If ye can display the same pluck ye show me now, but in a manner that acts in me favor, then perhaps I may have use for yer land lubbin ways after all.”
“You’re going to ask me to do something dangerous, aren’t you?”
“Danger be the spice of life, me boy! Forget anything you’ve heard about that variety bilge, that be for castle cooks!” Nobeard exclaimed enthusiastically as he hurried over to his desk and began rifling through the maps. “Aha!” he declared as he pulled one out of the stack and drove a dagger through it. “Ye are going to be in the band of buccaneers who rob the Wizard Tree!”
THIRTEEN
Tree Muggers
Dungar hated wizards. Growing up honing your profession to perfection only to have it stripped from you by an arrogant and entitled scumbag of a human being will do that to a person. But while Rainchild had certainly fuelled his distaste for magic, Dungar never even heard of a wizard he liked. Wizards of both good and bad walks of life were often present in the many stories he would hear. But, regardless of their allegiance, they would simply swoop in and cast some spells to solve any problems.
Magic was a funny thing; it didn’t seem to play by any particular rules. Some wizards would use it for practical purposes, others for nefarious purposes, and others still for constructive and destructive purposes. It seemed to be completely arbitrary what capabilities each magical creature had, as they seemed to vary wizard to wizard and witch to witch. Dungar wasn’t entirely sure if it was they were simply born with an innate catalog of spells to choose from, or rather if it was a skill based around discovery and development.
Regardless of the mechanics of the craft though, Dungar felt magic was nothing more than a lazy way to cheat a leg up on the rest of the less gifted folks as well as a cowardly resource that the weak drew upon to subvert the strong. No matter what tricks Rainchild had up his sleeve, Dungar intended to destroy the man. However, his intentions aside, Dungar couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry regarding the potential powers that Rainchild may very well possess.
As for this “Wizard Tree” that the pirate spoke of, the very first image to enter Dungar’s mind was that of a glowing sapling that shot fireballs. Surely that wasn’t the case though; it was probably the name of some kind of order or organization.
“Did somebody say the wizard tree?!” Jimminy called out as he burst into the room.
“Aye, your hearing be functional, laddy.” Nobeard confirmed as he looked up from the table.
“Do wizards grow there?” Jimminy asked with a laugh.
“I hope so …” Dungar said forebodingly.
Nobeard gave Dungar a strange look, and then addressed both him and Jimminy.
“Ye lads never heard of the wizard tree?”
“Nope” The two men answered in unison.
“Aye, sheltered lads eh.” Nobeard grunted as he took another swig from his bottle. “In the center of this here sea stands the largest shrub any picaroon ever did see. It be taller than a hundred ship’s masts, and wide enough that me own mother could hide behind it! But in a hollowed out nook somewhere high in that tree there lay a plunder so prestigious that a nun would sell out her own lord just to lay claim to it! Any who possess that treasure would be irrefutably the saltiest scurvy shellback to ever sail the single sea!”
“Are there other pirates on this lake?” Dungar asked.
Nobeard stopped short from his spiel. “Well, no. But one day there will be! And when there are, they will know who the saltiest scurv—”
“THAR SHE BLOWS!” Jimminy screamed as he looked out the porthole of the captain’s quarters. Nobeard threw him aside, grumbling “That be my line” as he too looked through the nautical window.
Off in the distance, through the dim fog that hovered over the lake, there stood an immense tree protruding from a small island on the water. The trunk had to be at least five or six hundred paces around, and the height of the tree was indeterminable as it stretched high into the sky and disappeared in the clouds. There didn’t appear to be much to the rest of the island itself, as the sheer size of the tree appeared to take up all the surface area there was. Aside from the unprecedented size of the plant though, it didn’t have any other apparent unique qualities.
“Why is it called the Wizard Tree?” Dungar asked as he gaped at the colossal plant.
“Because it’s a wizard, laddy.” Nobeard stated matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“It’s a wizard. It be a magical organism.”
Dungar had no words to respond with; he just turned back to the tree with a sour look on his face. The tree wasn’t a person, but he still hated it anyway simply based on principle. He couldn’t help but wonder if that made him fair or petty.
Nobeard laughed and put a hand on Dungar’s shoulder as they both watched the wizard tree grow larger and larger on the horizon. “Yer quite the green globetrotter aren’t ye?”
Dungar turned to Nobeard with an eyebrow raised defensively.
“Thar be no shame, laddy! Yer fair captain shall teach ye the brass tacks.” Nobeard insisted, gesturing towards a nearby stool.
Dungar, however, opted to remain standing.
“Fair enough!” Nobeard declared, taking the seat himself. “The ways of wizarding and witching be not exclusive to just people! It be an in-born talent that any living creature may possess. In this land lay magic people, magic dogs, magic snakes, magic redbears, and even magic trees like that great weed ye see out yer window thar!”
“How old is it?” Jimminy cut in.
“Do I look like an encyclopedia, matey? I’m just the pirate that’s going to rob it!” Nobeard admonished as he headed out the door and back onto the deck. Dungar and Jimminy followed after him.
“Listen up, me hearties!” Nobeard called to the crew as he made his way out onto the deck. “I want all hands on deck and for the designated boarding party to prepare to … well … board!”
There was a flurry on the deck of crewmen bustling about to man their stations. Amid the chaos of sailors scurrying about, a small ragtag battalion of pirates had formed along the side of the ship next to the lifeboat.
“Alright, men!” Nobeard called, as he signaled Jimminy and Dungar to follow him to the away team. “Here be the courageous seafarers who are going to be the ill-gotten looters of precious tree plunder.”
Dungar sized up the men he would be accompanying. There were seven of them in total, each armed with a cutlass. Now that he was beginning to become desensitized to pirates though, Dungar found himself able to tell just what a group of incompetent looking buffoons they were. None of the group could even maintain a standing at attention pose without falling over due to the rocking of the ship. One of them didn’t even have legs, and in their place were two wooden pegs, and another didn’t appear to have any eyes. Yet another was morbidly obese, and he stood next to a pirate who appeared to be twice the age of Jitters.
“Alright let us be brief!” Nobeard addressed the party. “Sailors, this here be our new recruits: Dungar and Jumpin’ Jimminy the Jaunty.”
Tearing his eyes away from the pirates, Dungar very slowly turned his head towards Jimminy whilst wearing a look of absolutely inexorable disgust.
“I’m a pirate now, matey!” Jimminy grinned. “I needed me a pirate name!”
With a heavy sigh, Dungar turned back to the band of bungling flunkies with whom he was going to storm a dangerous island. Reading the look on the blacksmith’s face, Nobeard offered to reassure him.
“They may not look like much, but they be brave souls that will have yer back and they all be havin’ at least some experience in rovin’ expeditions!”
Dungar couldn’t help but wonder where exactly the line between bravery and stupidity was drawn, or if there even was one. Perhaps the defining point between being brave or being stupid is simply whether or not one succeeds. Regardless, his task has been laid before him and this is who he had to work with, so he could take them or leave them.
“Yarr, soon we man the lifeboat to make our final approach to the island! So let us wrap up these introductions, shall we?” Nobeard announced. “For the sake of brevity, each man’s nickname shall make him easy to remember.”
Then, one by one, Nobeard went down the line of pirates with their introductions, giving them each a bonk on the head as he stated their name.
“This here be Finn the Fat, Ozzy the Old, Legless Larry, Shoutin’ Shane—”
“AHOY!!!” Shane bellowed at an eardrum-shattering volume.
“Shut up, Shane!” Nobeard hollered back. “… Wally the Well-Tanned, Blaine the Blind, and Eye-gougin’ Hugo Bonny!”
Dungar gaped at Wally. Given the man’s complexion, Dungar had assumed he was simply another race entirely. But after hearing the man’s nickname, Dungar realized the true origin of the man’s brown and leathery skin. Jimminy, on the other hand, appeared to have a stunned fixation on Blaine; particularly the fact he wore an eye patch over both eyes. Tentatively, he leaned over and slowly moved his hand up and down in front of the blind fellow’s face.
“Hands to yerself, scallywag.” The pirate grunted in a gravelly monotone voice causing Jimminy to jump.
“Enough with your cacklin’, lads!” Nobeard ordered. “And into the lifeboat with all of ya. We be makin our final approach soon.” He then disappeared beneath the deck as the rest of the team began to file towards the boat in an orderly fashion.
As it was Dungar’s turn to climb inside, he glanced over the rail of the ship only to see a craft that looked to be nothing more than a hollowed out chunk of wood. It swung ominously from the two fraying ropes that supported it as it hung suspended over the murky waters of Lake Deeplu. The hull of the lifeboat was weather beaten and faded. Dungar also couldn’t tell if it was simply poor craftsmanship or damage from a previous incident, but the front of the boat was significantly warped in a way that likely made the act of driving it straight into a challenging endeavor. Needless to say, the dinghy did not look safe in the slightest.
“What’s the hold up, ye yellow-bellied bucko? Afraid?” A nasally voice behind Dungar taunted.
Dungar turned around to see the weasel-ish face of Hugo standing behind him. The man was built just like Jimminy, except even skinnier. Rather than Jimminy’s bushy black hair though, this man’s was short and very oily causing it to cling to his head. His hideous visage was only exacerbated by his particularly sharp features, notably his pronounced brow, narrow chin, and aquiline nose.
Dungar prodded one finger into the man’s chest. “How about you shut your mouth, ya horse-toothed freak show.”
Hugo narrowed his beady black eyes and put his face close to Dungar’s. “Ye have yerself some pretty deadlights there, laddy. Hopefully nothing will happen to them.”
Dungar raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I don’t know if you’re trying to intimidate me or if you’re coming onto me, but either way I’m suggesting you knock it off.” Then, without another word, he threw caution to the wind and hopped into the boat next to Finn and Larry, the latter riding on the shoulders of the former.
As the rest of the infiltration team boarded the vessel it quickly became cramped and crowded like a sea-faring clown car. Then, finally, came the captain of the crew, Nobeard himself. Before he too hopped into the boat, he first threw a large and heavy looking sack into the lifeboat that made a loud, metallic clang when it landed. Wordlessly, Nobeard then hopped into the craft himself and cut the supports, sending the entire crew plummeting downward into the sea.
The sudden fall and subsequent impact startled Dungar, but it didn’t make him nearly as uncomfortable as feeling the frail and wrinkled body of Ozzy wrapped around him in a tight, fearful bear hug. Even after the boat stopped rocking, Ozzy still had not let go which resulted in an awkward eye contact between the two.
“Ye have a very firm body, sailor.” He spoke in a wizened voice as he smiled up at Dungar.
“Get off of me!” Dungar demanded, slightly panicked.
“WHAT’S IN THE BAG, CAPTAIN?” Shane called out.
“I’m glad ye asked, Shane!” Nobeard acknowledged. “I would have preferred a slightly less deafening volume, but I be glad nonetheless. This bag here carries the provisions for our excursion. First thing’s first!”
Nobeard reached into the bag and pulled out two red linen shirts and tossed one each to Dungar and Jimminy.
“This here be yer pirate apparel, lads!” Nobeard announced, then he turned to Dungar. “I know ye not be too stoked fer our freebootin’ ways, but ye are clearly in need of some new vestments given the tattered state of those on yer back.”
The man did have a point. What was left of Dungar’s shirt was little more than tattered confetti held together by fraying bits of thread. So, begrudgingly, he donned the pirating garb and settled in for the storming.
“Atta lad.” Nobeard praised. “Now as for the rest of ye, this here bag contains a varied assortment of armaments to select from. So choose yer weapon, lads!”
Even amid the crowdedness of the lifeboat, five of the seven pirates dove viciously into the bag, each trying to get their hands on the best weapon first. Finn was the one currently rowing the boat, taking it in the general direction of the wizard tree, and Larry just didn’t seem to think fighting for a weapon was worth the effort. Hindered by his blindness, Blaine opted to simply grab everything he could get his hands on while Shane took the opposite approach and tried to grab weapons away from his crewmates rather than from the bag itself.
“Look alive, lads, and hurry up! In a moment it be time to disembark!” Nobeard called out after only about five minutes of rowing
Dungar looked towards the island. The tree was now in full view, gnarled and twisted as it was, but there were still about half a league of sailing distance between the island and their boat.
“What do you mean?” Dungar inquired. “We’re not even close to shore yet.”
“We’re almost within range of the tree’s defenses, lad.” Nobeard replied.
“The captain is correct.” Finn chimed in between his already labored breaths. “A target this size would never make it to the island, we’re gonna have to swim it.”
“Wot kinda defenses are there?” Jimminy asked.
Nobeard put a hand on Jimminy’s shoulder and grinned. “If ye stick around to learn, laddy, ye probably will not live to share with the rest of us.”
Dungar watched the pirates as they sheathed their weapons, kicked off their boots, and proceeded to tumble off of the lifeboat and into the water. Then they proceeded to space themselves out and swim towards the island. Even Blaine somehow knew the appropriate direction in which to head.
Before long it was just Dungar, Jimminy, and Larry left. Larry, however, simply was taking a few extra moments to swap out his peg legs for flippers. Then he smiled a toothless grin that was barely visible behind his bushy black beard and bid them farewell before he too disappeared with a splash.
“Well come on then, mista Dungar.” Jimminy invited. “Best depart before being made into mush!”
