He
was in such a hurry that he wasn't paying any attention to his
surroundings, and it was a simple matter for his assailants to grab
him and pull him into the dark alleyway. There was a brief gasp, but
no one was close enough to hear it, and a moment later, there was
nothing to suggest anyone had ever been there.
The
unfortunate traveller awoke to find himself on the deck of a ship,
restrained by two enormously burly men. He tried to struggle, but
they were far too strong for him. One of them drove his knee into
his back to force him to be still, and he yelped in pain. “What do
you want with me?” he demanded.
“You
have some information we need”. In front of him stood a man
wearing a dark jacket and a black hat. It only took one look to know
he was bad news.
“I
won't tell you anything!”, he declared bravely, earning a
backhanded slap across the face for his trouble.
“I'm
certain you'll tell us everything we want to know”, the man said,
putting a knife to his throat and staring straight into his eyes, his
forehead barely an inch away. His yellow eyes showed only pure
ruthlessness, and he knew the man would stop at nothing to get what
he wanted. One of the goons holding him tightened his grasp, and he
let out a pained gasp as the man held the blade of his knife against
his skin.
“Where
are they headed?” the black-garbed man demanded.
“I...
I don't know!”
The
man pressed the knife into his skin enough to draw blood, staining
the blade a dark red. “I know you know”, he insisted.
He
felt like he would soon pass out, and that would be the end of him.
He had no choice, and he mentally apologized to the others. “They're
heading to the cave hidden beneath the northern waterfall.”
The
man in the long, dark coat removed the knife from his throat.
“Excellent!”, he proclaimed triumphantly, walking away from him.
“We can head them off!”
But
the men holding him prisoner did not release him. “You have what
you want!” he insisted. “Now let me go!”
The
man with the yellow eyes turned back to him, and he would never
forget the cruel smile on his face. “You heard our guest”, he
told his goons, “let him go”.
Without
so much as a word, they heaved him overboard. He landed in the water
with an undignified splash.
“I
wonder if he'll make it back to shore?” the leader mused, taking
the wheel of his ship in his hands. “There are an awful lot of
sharks out there.”
The
unfortunate man gawked at the ship, his eyes as wide as plates.
Absent-mindlessly, he touched his sore neck, and his hand came back
stained red with blood. Then he panicked, and he frantically began
to swim away from the ship, but he never had a chance. Something
grabbed his leg from below and dragged him under.
“I
guess not”, the captain remarked idly.
The
last thing the poor man saw before losing consciousness were the
black sails of the pirate ship as it sailed away.
“Load
the cannons!” the man in the dark coat barked. “I want us to be
ready to hit them hard before they know we're here!”
“Aye!”
his lackeys shouted back. That was about all they could say, but it
didn't matter. They did what he told them to do, so they were much
more useful than the white one was. They set about loading the
cannons, and he stepped away from the wheel, wrapping his fingers
around the sail rope and leaning out over the sea.
It
was a glorious day. The wind was strong, his ship was fast, and his
prey was unprepared. He would blow them to pieces, then he would
claim that treasure they coveted. Or perhaps he would just let it
sink into the sea. It really didn't make much difference, the hunt
was everything.
The
northern waterfall lay a ways inland, accessible by a channel that
wound and snaked around a mountain. They would already be inside the
channel, he knew. The path split around the mountain, and they would
be taking the western path, it was shorter and less treacherous, but
if he came upon them from behind, he would lose the element of
surprise and he would have a hard time hitting them. No, his ship
was smaller and more nimble than theirs, he would take the eastern
path around the mountain and strike when the channels joined again.
They would never see it coming.
It
truly was a perilous route. Several times he scraped the hull
against the rocks as the ship wove to and fro, and his worried crew
came up to the helm several times to check that everything was all
right. “Man the cannons!” he yelled at them, not even bothering
to look away from the wheel. The current was fast here, and it was
all he could do to maintain control. A big piece of rock jutted up
in front of him, and he spun the wheel hard to port to go around it.
The ship lurched and he heard things tipping over below deck, but
they avoided the rock. The sound of rushing water became louder, and
then he caught sight of the others. They were already descending
into their longboats to raid the cave behind the waterfall.
“Prepare
to fire!” he yelled, pulling hard to port to swing his cannons
around. The cannons rung out , and a stream of cannonballs tore into
the other ship, knocking the poor fools who were still loading into
the longboats into the water. But one boat was already away and
nearing the waterfall. The other ship fired back, but in their haste
they had not lead his ship properly, and he was already well out of
the way. Loading the lone cannon he kept on the deck for situations
like this, he took aim at the single longboat still on the water and
lit the fuse.
“I
win”.
The
cannonball struck the longboat and everything faded away into
darkness.
---
There
was no treasure, and the other ship was gone as well, but the
black-furred hunter was satisfied enough with the day's work. He had
particularly enjoyed terrorizing that poor sailor. “Let him go”,
he remembered, laughing at the ridiculous look on the man's face as
they tossed him overboard. He was just sorry he couldn't have been
the shark that got him, sinking his teeth into the terrified man's
flesh. Next time perhaps. There was always another hunt, every time
the dawn came upon them.
His
revelry was interrupted by the quiet tapping of his companion's
footsteps. The white one stared out over the sea, her scraggly white
fur blowing about in the wind. Her tail perked up, and she turned to
face him, looking right into him with her big blue eyes, her blank
expression revealing nothing.
“What?”,
he demanded of her, but she just tilted her head and went back to the
ocean as though she hadn't heard him.
Her
called her Banshee, because it amused him. She called him nothing,
because she never spoke at all. At least, not at night. On rare
occasions she joined him during the day, and she sometimes spoke
then, but she was never really any help. Sometimes she got in the
way, but she was basically just there, and he ignored her for the
most part. He didn't need anyone's help, anyway, and he certainly
didn't need anyone's company. Whatever she did most mornings, it was
no concern of his.
He
looked up towards the sky, but there were few stars out tonight.
Having nothing else to guide his way, he turned the ship hard towards
starboard, where had seen the other ship, perhaps that would allow
him to find them again. He looked back to see if Banshee would have
lost her balance or perhaps toppled over when the ship turned so
sharply, but she barely seemed to notice, she just stood there with
her paws on the railing, paying him no attention. With nothing else
to do above deck, he retired to his cabin, smiling to himself as he
relived that last cannon shot. He could almost picture the scene
from the cannonball's perspective as the terrified inhabitants of
that longboat stared down the fateful shot that brought the night
back. Such was the fate of all who dared to go against the hunter.
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