In Which A Prince and a Pirate Get More Than They Bargained For [LOG]
The Scene: Saja has stolen a doll which is rightly hers from a band of pirates. She then hides on Cyrus's ship, The Coda just before Gerard and Cyrus head out for a clandestine meeting with some less-than-reputable fellows.
What could possibly go wrong?
Cyrus stands at the bridge, hands on the wheel. A spyglass hangs from his belt as does a small, new-looking crossbow. He steers The Coda towards the lighthouse at Cabra. The crew members appear to be unusually sedate. He calls down to Gerard, "Everything look good, Admiral?"
Gerard is dressed casually, coat and cutlass enhanced by the addition of a battered leather tricorn. "Looks good. Take us around to the lee side of the island. There's a quiet little cove there. We'll disembark to meet with these fellows."
Cyrus nods, manages to bark a few orders quietly, and catches the wind just right to bring the vessel around. As he does so, he says, "How far can we trust these guys?"
Saja has scrunched into a nearby hidey hole, golden doll in hand. If her thoughts could be heard, they'd likely run along the lines of 'why does this always happen to me?...' Bottles of whiskey, wine, and rum surround her as she tries to remain very very still, and hopes that no one runs out of their favorite drink.
Gerard makes a vague gesture. "They're independent operators, just on the legal side of piracy. So I wouldn't trust 'em further than you can throw them. But we could use more ships, and these won't cost us much. I hope."
Cyrus grumbles about the necessity of dealing with people who, if he took the time to admit it, are far too much like himself and brings the ship into the requested area. "Drop anchor!" he shouts and the men scurry about to do just that. Now he peers through his spyglass, scanning the horizon.
And there is the lighthouse and, as the ship rounds a rocky shore, a sheltered cove. A low, sleek cutter is already there - a ship built for coastal raiding but capable of traversing deep waters. It flies no colors and looks battered, but in good repair.
At a gesture from Cyrus, the men raise a series of flags. Cyrus leaps down from the wheelhouse and watches the cutter. "I could use a drink," he says to Gerard. "Interested?"
Gerard grins, "Always."
Gerard murmurs to Cyrus, "The fellow we're meeting is one Paku the Younger. Sukhoti."
Cyrus says, "I'm guessing I don't want to know what happened to Paku the Elder." He heads for the store of bottles in its protected location on the deck.
Gerard laughs. "I imagine not. Hard living on the seas when you don't have a port to call home." Out of sight of the Coda and the cutter, another ship furls sails and drifts closer to the island. Dangerous men clamber onto longboats, which are lowered into the waters.
A truly skilled sneakster knows when to flee. Saja hears 'drink' and bolts out of her hiding place, leaving a few clinking bottles tilting precariously. She ducks behind a barrel, flattening against it.
Cyrus grabs two bottles, one of whiskey one of rum, and walks back to Gerard. Once he's beside the Admiral he holds up both. "Prince's choice," he says. He looks back to the cutter, "Not much going on over there. Curious."
The men on the anchored cutter have spotted the Coda and run up a white flag of parley. A man dressed in a ridiculous motley of bright colors waves. Gerard settles the question of bottles fairly by reaching for the closest one.
Gerard says, "That'd be Paku, the peacock looking fellow."
Still out of sight, hard men silently scull their longboats towards the Coda.
Stealing her chance as the two are distracted, Saja creeps out from behind the barrel, climbing her way up on top of the pile to perch out of sight from the deck. She scuttles in, it would take a glimpse from outside the porthole to spot her, or a startle to topple her from her roost.
Cyrus says, "Well, he's a snappy dresser." He takes a long pull off the rum then says, "And he looks like he could use the money. Maybe this'll turn out all right, after all."
And it's at that moment that first of the grappling hooks clang against the railing on the deck. Ropes come slithering up to hook onto the Coda, as the longboats come stealthily alongside.
Cyrus turns to Gerard, "What's he doing? Isn't this supposed to be a parley?"
Gerard frowns. "Blast and damn him, is he double-crossing us?" And of course, all along the boat, cries of 'Boarders!' can be heard, as can the sound of men drawing arms. This being a clandestine meeting, the Coda wasn't flying colors. So the poor boarders in question have no idea what they're in for.
"Oberon's balls!" shouts Cyrus hoisting his crossbow. He looks to the cutter and shouts in a voice loud enough to carry across the water, "Paku, I'll have your ship for this!" He then mutters in Gerard's direction, "Hollow threat. Who'd want that rat trap?"
Gerard snorts as he draws his cutlass. "We need that rat trap. If he's double-crossed us, that just means we pay in blood not coin. Which, as it turns out, we have a lot more of. Bully for us!"
Cyrus nods, "Lucky, that." He moves sideways until he can draw a bead on one of the boarders. His men seem to be handling the first wave just fine. It's as if they've done this sort of thing before.
Saja climbs higher onto the piled barrels as the fight begins to move underway. She tucks her doll safely into a nook, and peers down at the fray.
The men who scuttle up the side of the ship, swords and knives in their teeth, are a hard-bitten, rangy lot, with eye-patches and scars and the general malignant odor of the great unwashed. Their leader, a heavy-set man missing one ear calls out, "Take 'em down and clear a way to the hold, me boyos! They'll learn never to steal from Mad Bill Rackham!"
Another one of the boarder cries out, as he sees two of his mates swiftl y dispatched, "Uh, cap'n, I don't think these are pira-URK!" He joins his two friends as Cyrus's men surge forward.
Paku, meanwhile, looks utterly confused on the deck of his cutter, but starts shouting orders. Men scramble to action.
Cyrus says, "Hey, 'Mad Bill'." and you can hear the quotes in his tone. "You should listen to your late crewman, there." Then he fires at the nearest boarder.
The clatter of the barrel's lid being pulled off is likely lost amidst the clangs and clatters of fighting. Saja drops it down to the deck, and pulls out a handful of contents. "You can't have it!" She yells, pitching her artillery. POP! An apple splatters open as it strikes one of the boarders in the back of his head.
As the camera pans, we can see Paku, livid as he shouts to his men. "Amber is betraying us! Well, if they will not pay with gold, then they will pay with blood!"
A few of Paku's men stare at him as if he's gone entirely mad.
Gerard runs one of the boarders through as Cyrus drops another with a bolt put cleanly through the pirate's eyepatch. "Uh, Cyrus," he rumbles, "did we forget to pack ammunition? I think your men are dipping into the fruit stores."
Cyrus says, "What the hell do you--Oh!" He spies the rain of apples and shrugs, "Whatever works." He has time for one more crossbow shot before he has to abandon it and draw his cutlass. He sets about the task of removing the boarders from his deck. In whole or in pieces, he's not picky.
Saja didn't expect THAT, but nevertheless, she continues her attack on the boarders. Apples fly across the deck, some landing harmlessly, others splattering against piratical pates.
Rackham's struck by an apple and looks up to follow it's path. "THERE she is, boys. Git 'er!" Of course, his boys are somewhat reduced in numbers, now, though some do clamber gamely after Saja, one going so far as to hurl a knife at her.
Saja backpedals away from the knife, arms and legs flailing. She escapes serious harm, at the cost of knocking several barrels over, a rip along the back of thier shirt, and a slice as the knife edges across her shoulder. "It's MINE!" she bellows at the men heading her way.
Gerard catches a flying apple and takes a bite as he covers Cyrus's back. One of the pirates finally catches sight of Cyrus and blinks. "Shit," he says, eloquently. "This is the CODA!" He drops his sword, promptly.
Cyrus shouts, "Her?!?" He looks up towards Saja, "Who the hell's that?" He then makes eye contact with he of the dropped sword and says, "That's right! The rest of you pay attention to this fella!"
A couple of the men closest to the surrendering pirate do, in fact, take notice and immediately begin the very simple process of surrendering, as well. But Rackham will not be deterred, nor will the men immediately around him. "THIEF," he shouts, heavy cutlass waving wildly in the air. "C'mere, girl, I'm gonna skin ya!" He doesn't seem to realize he's providing disincentive for his own invitation.
Elsewhere, Paku gesticulates wildly at his crew, who in turn try desperately to calm him down. Finally he points at a dark skinned man. "M'buke, you will look there and tell Paku immediately what the hell is going on." Paku all but flounces, stomping his foot against the deck. M'buke, for his part, clambers up the ropes and squints over at the goings on abord the Coda.
Cyrus moves slowly towards the impending altercation between Rakham and Saja. "She's with me," he says evenly.
Gerard glances at Cyrus. "She is?" He looks at Rakham, then girl. "Oh, right!" He glowers menacingly. "She is."
Saja juts out her jaw belligerantly, and glares at the Rackham. "My darling would never allow you to hurt me!" One might have the impression she'd stick out her tongue in any other circumstance than this. "You tell them, baby!" She blows a kiss to Cyrus.
Gerard mouths, silently, "Baby?" at Cyrus. A big man beside Rakham makes a show with the two blades he carries, spinning them ominously. Gerard takes a bite of his apple, hefts the core, thoughtfully, and hurls it overboard. It flies. And flies. And flies. The man looks at Gerard, then his blades, and stops spinning them.
Rackham growls and levels his sword at Cyrus. "This bit of a girl has stolen from me. If she is yours, then her crime is yours, as well." Rackham's first mate tugs frantically at his captain's sleeve.
Cyrus tests the weight of his cutlass and says, "Is what she took from you worth your life, Bill? Do you think you could've gone about this in a less, I don't know, hostile manner?" Step. Swing. Step. Swing.
Saja leaps down from her tower of barrels, and pads over to Cyrus, with a swagger in her step. "I told you, you mangy flea-bitten curr, you cna't steal what's already yours!" Getting up closer, she throws her arms around Cyrus, and plants a large kiss. This gesture, of course, reveals a large swatch of skin across her shoulder, blood and a large sun-shaped birthmark to anyone looking. "And it's mine!"
Rackham finally realizes his mate's trying to tell him something. He ducks to listen, with his good ear, then squints at Cyrus. "Ah, look mate, I just-" He swallows and backs up a step. "Can't rightly blame, me right? What would you have done in the same situation?" He pronounces the last word 'sitch-ee-ayshun'.
Cyrus nods, "Don't make me raise a flag, Bill. You wouldn't like the color."
Gerard, having used his previous apple in a threatening display of aerial fruit, looks around for another. And notices Saja's birthmark. He squints, then squints some more.
Saja seems content with her current situation. She keeps her arms around Cyrus, and rests her head on his shoulder. She doesn't appear to have noticed Gerard's distraction.
Rackham holds his hands up. "Look, no need for- it's just that she took something from us. She can give it back and all's forgot, right?" He gives a gap-toothed smile, helpfully.
Cyrus looks to Saja, "Is this true?"
Saja sets her jaw and looks mutinous. "It's mine," she mutters.
Gerard is outright staring at Saja, now, dumbfounded.
Cyrus begins to address Gerard, sees that he is transfixed, and then turns to Rakham again, "She says it's hers. Even if it's not, Bill, why don't we call it your payment for attacking my ship." He shrugs, "Unless you'd prefer I take this infraction up with the Crown. I have friends in the palace."
They might call him Mad, but Bill Rackham isn't entirely stupid. He gulps and, after looking around at what's left of his crew, he nods. "Consider it a gift, wot? For you and your lady friend. Didn't know she was yours, Cyrus. We didn't know."
Cyrus makes shooing motions with his hands, "Get on with you and we'll call it even, then."
Rackham pulls his hat into his hands and nods before urgently shooing his men off the ship and back onto their longboats. A few go ass over teakettle, splashing messily into the waters below. Soon enough, they're rowing back to their own vessel.
In the distance, Rackham mutters to his men, "Oh, this won't be the last of it, Cyrus Chantris. It won't be the last by half!"
Cyrus throws a couple of apples in the direction of Bill's voice.
Cyrus turns to Saja. "You. Owe. Me." he says.
Gerard jabs a finger at Saja. "I need to see your back. Now."
Saja, perhaps wisely, refrains from comment at this turn of events. She simply beams a bright smile at Cyrus. Lady friend indeed. Then, as the men leave, she lets go of him and says brightly, "I think I'll keep you." Then, a pause, and she spins around and scowls at Gerard. "I don't do that sort of thing, you know. But thank you for the assistence, it was right kind of you." A bright grin is paired with the latter statement.
Gerard rumbles, "Girl, we just saved your life and you've Cyrus to thank for that. But you'll show me that bloody birthmark or I'll have you over my knee, you hear?"
Cyrus steps back and observes the conversation.
Saja starts to set her jaw stubbornly, and looks to Cyrus as though eyeing up a possible ally. But as he steps back, she puts her hands on her hips, and mutters, "Fine, fine. It's just a birthmark, anyway. What's the big deal." She presents her back to Gerard for examination, and says to Cyrus, "Thank you very kindly."
Gerard's eyes widen. "By the milky tits of the blessed Unicorn," he breathes. He grabs Saja by the arm. "Where are you from? Who's your mother?"
Cyrus's brow furrows. He begins to reply to Saja but instead opts for just staring at Gerard.
"I don't have a mother," Saja proclaims. "Ain't got a dad, ain't got a mom, just got me and my darling Cyrus."
Cyrus rolls his eyes, "Can I at least see what they think you stole from them?"
Gerard mutters, "Everyone's got a mother, and a father too." He pauses. "Except maybe Dad." He shakes his head. "That birthmark, it's pretty unusual."
Gerard backs off a bit at Cyrus's question, though, and waits, curious.
"It's just stuck to me," Saja says. She attempts to tug her arm free from Gerard's grip. "Sure, why not." As Gerard lets go, she skips over to the mountain of barrels and hops up nimbly to scamper up top again. She holds out a bright golden doll. "See? It's mine. What kind of pirate'd want a dolly anyway."
Cyrus leans closer, "Looks Begman. And, yeah, why did the worst pirate in the multiverse want it?"
Gerard says, "Did you say Begman? And made from Alhambran gold by the look of it."
Gerard releases a slow breath. "Well, slap my ass and call me Flora." He looks to Saja and says, "I think you'd better come here, girl, and tell me your name. I'm sorry I yelled at you."
Saja jumps down and strolls toward the two men. She stares at Gerard, "Your name is Flora? Isn't that a girl's name?"
Cyrus looks more surprised by Gerard's last six words than he has at anything else recently.
Gerard quite suddenly, and shockingly, gathers Saja up into a bone-cracking embrace. "Shut up," he orders, without any rancor at all. "My name's Gerard, girl. I'm your- I'm your bloody father."
Cyrus, it appears, has indeed found something to be more surprised by. He sits down on a nearby barrell.
Saja is crunched, and taken too completely by surprise to do anything but blink. Which, of course, has the desired effect of shutting her up.
Gerard sets her down when he realizes Saja might, at some point, need to breathe. "I know that doll and I know that birthmark," he rumbles. "Storm and salt, I thought you were dead."
Saja draws in a breath, and hugs tightly to the doll. "What do you mean, you're my daddy." She says abruptly, "My name is Saja."
Cyrus picks up the bottle of rum which has conveniently rolled alongside his barrell. It still has roughly a third of its original volume. He takes a drink and shakes his head.
Gerard points at Saja and tells Cyrus, "My daughter!" He takes a breath and steps back. "I knew your mother, some time ago. We had a- well, we shared a night or three. I stayed until you were born, and you had the sun on your shoulder when you came."
Cyrus smiles and raises his bottle to the both of them. He says, "To family!" and drinks. He then looks behind him at the cutter. "Um, Admiral," he points to Paku.
Paku, having been somewhat calmed by M'buke, is standing gloriously on the prow of a landing boat, arms akimbo, as his men row him over.
Saja opens her mouth to speak, but looks to where Cyrus points. One of her hands reaches back to brush over the birthmark.
Gerard curses. "Forgot all about them. Girl, I mean Saja. Stay by me, yes? I'll explain the rest in a bit."
Cyrus moves toward the side of the ship with Paku approaching and waits.
One of Paku's men calls up, "Most resplendent Paku the Younger wishes to bless your ship with the soles of his feet!" Which seems to translate to 'permission to come aboard'.
Saja sidles closer to Gerard. She hides the doll behind her back. "Ok!"
Cyrus looks to Gerard, winks and says, "Come aboard, Your Excellency"
Gerard rolls his eyes.
Saja watches with big eyes.
Paku uses the bent back of one of his men as a stepping stone to the rope ladder that's slung over, and climbs up. He leaps onto the deck and poses, dramatically. "Paku has been informed that you were attacked," Paku declares, comfortable in the third person. "Paku is pleased to see that you escaped death, so that you may continue to revel in the glory of Paku's presence."
Cyrus bows deeply, possibly ironically. He says, "We are honored by the Great Paku's presence aboard our humble seagoing vessel." He then adds something in a language that sound as if he's having an athsma attack.
Paku claps his hands together, delighted. "Paku sees that you know the language of civilized people!" He wheezes something back. "And Paku sees you have brought a slave girl to sweeten our dealings."
Gerard growls, ominously.
Paku hurriedly adds, "But Paku is not interested in your filthy girl-thing."
Saja releases something between a sulk and scowl. She puts her hands on her hips, and declares, "I'm not a thing! I'm Saja!"
Paku, about to retort, notices Gerard's expression and instead declares, "Of course. Paku is not interested in your filthy Saja-thing." He smiles, expansively. "So, what is it that Amber offers in exchange for the assistance of Paku's fleet, and the flagship, the Bird of Paradise?" He gesture proudly at his sad little ship.
Cyrus rather obviously bites back several honest but non-helpful responses. He shouts to one of his crewmen who hands him a bag which he tosses towards the big guy to Paku's left. His expression consists of equal parts confusion and amusement because Paku's words in Sukhoti, earlier, translate to 'My mother thanks your goat children.'
Saja resides in silence now, though she watches the exchanges.
M'buke catches the bag and weighs it before nodding and handing it over to Paku. Paku smiles, displaying a bright gold tooth where his left incisor should be. "Paku is pleased with the generous gift of the Captain-Kings of Amber. The Bird of Paradise, and the rest of the Paradise fleet will help you for the span of three months. Four if you throw in the- no. Three will do nicely."
Cyrus nods slowly, "How many ships does the great Paku--" He stops, "Excuse me, Your Excellency. I am most humbly sorry." He turns to Gerard, "Sukhoti custom demands that we conduct all final financial exchanges in the mother tongue. I'll translate for you." He looks back to Paku with a broad smile.
Gerard looks surprised but nods. "Of course, of course." His hand rests protectively on Saja's shoulder.
Paku swallows and looks around. Hurriedly, he offers, "The Captain-Kings of Amber have shown good faith with their gold. Paku will show great kindness and conclude transactions in their savage tongue." He waves his hand, magnanimously.
Saja seems almost to jump at the unexpected touch, but she settles. And resumes to peering at the transaction as it is made. Paku seems to be of interest, she watches curiously.
Cyrus bows deeply, "You honor us most greatly." He then barks something that sounds like a harp seal trying to swallow a live cat.
Paku nods. "The honor is almost impossible to contemplate in its greatness. But Paku is pleased." With a sidelong look at M'buke and the others, he gutturals something in response which Cyrus understands to mean, 'Thirty cheese fly bedroom'.
Cyrus does not quite suppress a laugh but he attempts to cover it with a bow. "Pleasure doing business with you, Excellency." He looks to Gerard, "You satisfied?"
Gerard, slowly catching on to what might be going on grins and nods. "Yeah, I think I'm pretty pleased with how things turned out."
Cyrus turns to Saja, "Well, girl-thing, back to your room!" He winks.
Saja shifts a little, the doll coming into view as she relaxes slightly and hangs her arms at her sides. Her eyes widen, then narrow, then she pivots on one heel and swaggers off. In the wrong direction to get to quarters, but out of sight she goes nonetheless.
Paku waves to M'buke, who settles the rest of the specifics. Paku steps on the back of one of his men, again, before levering himself over the side and clambering down to his boat, whereupon he takes his position on the prow.
Cyrus walks back toward the bridge. "Weigh anchor!" he shouts to the crew. He looks around, "And look up the word 'stowaway' when we get back to shore, you idiots."
Gerard snorts. "Now where did that blasted girl go?" He sighs. "I'm going to have to write letters. I might need you to deliver them, actually. They have to get there fast."
Gerard says, "Or maybe I can just find the embassy."
The men prepare the ship for sailing and soon she is on her way back home.
Saja, as it turns out, is somewhere inside, helping herself to some fine liquor.
Gerard asks Cyrus, as they head belowdecks, "Don't suppose you know anyone in the Alhambran embassy?"
"Well, theres--" Cyrus begins and then stops short. "Have you seen my spyglass?"
What could possibly go wrong?
Cyrus stands at the bridge, hands on the wheel. A spyglass hangs from his belt as does a small, new-looking crossbow. He steers The Coda towards the lighthouse at Cabra. The crew members appear to be unusually sedate. He calls down to Gerard, "Everything look good, Admiral?"
Gerard is dressed casually, coat and cutlass enhanced by the addition of a battered leather tricorn. "Looks good. Take us around to the lee side of the island. There's a quiet little cove there. We'll disembark to meet with these fellows."
Cyrus nods, manages to bark a few orders quietly, and catches the wind just right to bring the vessel around. As he does so, he says, "How far can we trust these guys?"
Saja has scrunched into a nearby hidey hole, golden doll in hand. If her thoughts could be heard, they'd likely run along the lines of 'why does this always happen to me?...' Bottles of whiskey, wine, and rum surround her as she tries to remain very very still, and hopes that no one runs out of their favorite drink.
Gerard makes a vague gesture. "They're independent operators, just on the legal side of piracy. So I wouldn't trust 'em further than you can throw them. But we could use more ships, and these won't cost us much. I hope."
Cyrus grumbles about the necessity of dealing with people who, if he took the time to admit it, are far too much like himself and brings the ship into the requested area. "Drop anchor!" he shouts and the men scurry about to do just that. Now he peers through his spyglass, scanning the horizon.
And there is the lighthouse and, as the ship rounds a rocky shore, a sheltered cove. A low, sleek cutter is already there - a ship built for coastal raiding but capable of traversing deep waters. It flies no colors and looks battered, but in good repair.
At a gesture from Cyrus, the men raise a series of flags. Cyrus leaps down from the wheelhouse and watches the cutter. "I could use a drink," he says to Gerard. "Interested?"
Gerard grins, "Always."
Gerard murmurs to Cyrus, "The fellow we're meeting is one Paku the Younger. Sukhoti."
Cyrus says, "I'm guessing I don't want to know what happened to Paku the Elder." He heads for the store of bottles in its protected location on the deck.
Gerard laughs. "I imagine not. Hard living on the seas when you don't have a port to call home." Out of sight of the Coda and the cutter, another ship furls sails and drifts closer to the island. Dangerous men clamber onto longboats, which are lowered into the waters.
A truly skilled sneakster knows when to flee. Saja hears 'drink' and bolts out of her hiding place, leaving a few clinking bottles tilting precariously. She ducks behind a barrel, flattening against it.
Cyrus grabs two bottles, one of whiskey one of rum, and walks back to Gerard. Once he's beside the Admiral he holds up both. "Prince's choice," he says. He looks back to the cutter, "Not much going on over there. Curious."
The men on the anchored cutter have spotted the Coda and run up a white flag of parley. A man dressed in a ridiculous motley of bright colors waves. Gerard settles the question of bottles fairly by reaching for the closest one.
Gerard says, "That'd be Paku, the peacock looking fellow."
Still out of sight, hard men silently scull their longboats towards the Coda.
Stealing her chance as the two are distracted, Saja creeps out from behind the barrel, climbing her way up on top of the pile to perch out of sight from the deck. She scuttles in, it would take a glimpse from outside the porthole to spot her, or a startle to topple her from her roost.
Cyrus says, "Well, he's a snappy dresser." He takes a long pull off the rum then says, "And he looks like he could use the money. Maybe this'll turn out all right, after all."
And it's at that moment that first of the grappling hooks clang against the railing on the deck. Ropes come slithering up to hook onto the Coda, as the longboats come stealthily alongside.
Cyrus turns to Gerard, "What's he doing? Isn't this supposed to be a parley?"
Gerard frowns. "Blast and damn him, is he double-crossing us?" And of course, all along the boat, cries of 'Boarders!' can be heard, as can the sound of men drawing arms. This being a clandestine meeting, the Coda wasn't flying colors. So the poor boarders in question have no idea what they're in for.
"Oberon's balls!" shouts Cyrus hoisting his crossbow. He looks to the cutter and shouts in a voice loud enough to carry across the water, "Paku, I'll have your ship for this!" He then mutters in Gerard's direction, "Hollow threat. Who'd want that rat trap?"
Gerard snorts as he draws his cutlass. "We need that rat trap. If he's double-crossed us, that just means we pay in blood not coin. Which, as it turns out, we have a lot more of. Bully for us!"
Cyrus nods, "Lucky, that." He moves sideways until he can draw a bead on one of the boarders. His men seem to be handling the first wave just fine. It's as if they've done this sort of thing before.
Saja climbs higher onto the piled barrels as the fight begins to move underway. She tucks her doll safely into a nook, and peers down at the fray.
The men who scuttle up the side of the ship, swords and knives in their teeth, are a hard-bitten, rangy lot, with eye-patches and scars and the general malignant odor of the great unwashed. Their leader, a heavy-set man missing one ear calls out, "Take 'em down and clear a way to the hold, me boyos! They'll learn never to steal from Mad Bill Rackham!"
Another one of the boarder cries out, as he sees two of his mates swiftl y dispatched, "Uh, cap'n, I don't think these are pira-URK!" He joins his two friends as Cyrus's men surge forward.
Paku, meanwhile, looks utterly confused on the deck of his cutter, but starts shouting orders. Men scramble to action.
Cyrus says, "Hey, 'Mad Bill'." and you can hear the quotes in his tone. "You should listen to your late crewman, there." Then he fires at the nearest boarder.
The clatter of the barrel's lid being pulled off is likely lost amidst the clangs and clatters of fighting. Saja drops it down to the deck, and pulls out a handful of contents. "You can't have it!" She yells, pitching her artillery. POP! An apple splatters open as it strikes one of the boarders in the back of his head.
As the camera pans, we can see Paku, livid as he shouts to his men. "Amber is betraying us! Well, if they will not pay with gold, then they will pay with blood!"
A few of Paku's men stare at him as if he's gone entirely mad.
Gerard runs one of the boarders through as Cyrus drops another with a bolt put cleanly through the pirate's eyepatch. "Uh, Cyrus," he rumbles, "did we forget to pack ammunition? I think your men are dipping into the fruit stores."
Cyrus says, "What the hell do you--Oh!" He spies the rain of apples and shrugs, "Whatever works." He has time for one more crossbow shot before he has to abandon it and draw his cutlass. He sets about the task of removing the boarders from his deck. In whole or in pieces, he's not picky.
Saja didn't expect THAT, but nevertheless, she continues her attack on the boarders. Apples fly across the deck, some landing harmlessly, others splattering against piratical pates.
Rackham's struck by an apple and looks up to follow it's path. "THERE she is, boys. Git 'er!" Of course, his boys are somewhat reduced in numbers, now, though some do clamber gamely after Saja, one going so far as to hurl a knife at her.
Saja backpedals away from the knife, arms and legs flailing. She escapes serious harm, at the cost of knocking several barrels over, a rip along the back of thier shirt, and a slice as the knife edges across her shoulder. "It's MINE!" she bellows at the men heading her way.
Gerard catches a flying apple and takes a bite as he covers Cyrus's back. One of the pirates finally catches sight of Cyrus and blinks. "Shit," he says, eloquently. "This is the CODA!" He drops his sword, promptly.
Cyrus shouts, "Her?!?" He looks up towards Saja, "Who the hell's that?" He then makes eye contact with he of the dropped sword and says, "That's right! The rest of you pay attention to this fella!"
A couple of the men closest to the surrendering pirate do, in fact, take notice and immediately begin the very simple process of surrendering, as well. But Rackham will not be deterred, nor will the men immediately around him. "THIEF," he shouts, heavy cutlass waving wildly in the air. "C'mere, girl, I'm gonna skin ya!" He doesn't seem to realize he's providing disincentive for his own invitation.
Elsewhere, Paku gesticulates wildly at his crew, who in turn try desperately to calm him down. Finally he points at a dark skinned man. "M'buke, you will look there and tell Paku immediately what the hell is going on." Paku all but flounces, stomping his foot against the deck. M'buke, for his part, clambers up the ropes and squints over at the goings on abord the Coda.
Cyrus moves slowly towards the impending altercation between Rakham and Saja. "She's with me," he says evenly.
Gerard glances at Cyrus. "She is?" He looks at Rakham, then girl. "Oh, right!" He glowers menacingly. "She is."
Saja juts out her jaw belligerantly, and glares at the Rackham. "My darling would never allow you to hurt me!" One might have the impression she'd stick out her tongue in any other circumstance than this. "You tell them, baby!" She blows a kiss to Cyrus.
Gerard mouths, silently, "Baby?" at Cyrus. A big man beside Rakham makes a show with the two blades he carries, spinning them ominously. Gerard takes a bite of his apple, hefts the core, thoughtfully, and hurls it overboard. It flies. And flies. And flies. The man looks at Gerard, then his blades, and stops spinning them.
Rackham growls and levels his sword at Cyrus. "This bit of a girl has stolen from me. If she is yours, then her crime is yours, as well." Rackham's first mate tugs frantically at his captain's sleeve.
Cyrus tests the weight of his cutlass and says, "Is what she took from you worth your life, Bill? Do you think you could've gone about this in a less, I don't know, hostile manner?" Step. Swing. Step. Swing.
Saja leaps down from her tower of barrels, and pads over to Cyrus, with a swagger in her step. "I told you, you mangy flea-bitten curr, you cna't steal what's already yours!" Getting up closer, she throws her arms around Cyrus, and plants a large kiss. This gesture, of course, reveals a large swatch of skin across her shoulder, blood and a large sun-shaped birthmark to anyone looking. "And it's mine!"
Rackham finally realizes his mate's trying to tell him something. He ducks to listen, with his good ear, then squints at Cyrus. "Ah, look mate, I just-" He swallows and backs up a step. "Can't rightly blame, me right? What would you have done in the same situation?" He pronounces the last word 'sitch-ee-ayshun'.
Cyrus nods, "Don't make me raise a flag, Bill. You wouldn't like the color."
Gerard, having used his previous apple in a threatening display of aerial fruit, looks around for another. And notices Saja's birthmark. He squints, then squints some more.
Saja seems content with her current situation. She keeps her arms around Cyrus, and rests her head on his shoulder. She doesn't appear to have noticed Gerard's distraction.
Rackham holds his hands up. "Look, no need for- it's just that she took something from us. She can give it back and all's forgot, right?" He gives a gap-toothed smile, helpfully.
Cyrus looks to Saja, "Is this true?"
Saja sets her jaw and looks mutinous. "It's mine," she mutters.
Gerard is outright staring at Saja, now, dumbfounded.
Cyrus begins to address Gerard, sees that he is transfixed, and then turns to Rakham again, "She says it's hers. Even if it's not, Bill, why don't we call it your payment for attacking my ship." He shrugs, "Unless you'd prefer I take this infraction up with the Crown. I have friends in the palace."
They might call him Mad, but Bill Rackham isn't entirely stupid. He gulps and, after looking around at what's left of his crew, he nods. "Consider it a gift, wot? For you and your lady friend. Didn't know she was yours, Cyrus. We didn't know."
Cyrus makes shooing motions with his hands, "Get on with you and we'll call it even, then."
Rackham pulls his hat into his hands and nods before urgently shooing his men off the ship and back onto their longboats. A few go ass over teakettle, splashing messily into the waters below. Soon enough, they're rowing back to their own vessel.
In the distance, Rackham mutters to his men, "Oh, this won't be the last of it, Cyrus Chantris. It won't be the last by half!"
Cyrus throws a couple of apples in the direction of Bill's voice.
Cyrus turns to Saja. "You. Owe. Me." he says.
Gerard jabs a finger at Saja. "I need to see your back. Now."
Saja, perhaps wisely, refrains from comment at this turn of events. She simply beams a bright smile at Cyrus. Lady friend indeed. Then, as the men leave, she lets go of him and says brightly, "I think I'll keep you." Then, a pause, and she spins around and scowls at Gerard. "I don't do that sort of thing, you know. But thank you for the assistence, it was right kind of you." A bright grin is paired with the latter statement.
Gerard rumbles, "Girl, we just saved your life and you've Cyrus to thank for that. But you'll show me that bloody birthmark or I'll have you over my knee, you hear?"
Cyrus steps back and observes the conversation.
Saja starts to set her jaw stubbornly, and looks to Cyrus as though eyeing up a possible ally. But as he steps back, she puts her hands on her hips, and mutters, "Fine, fine. It's just a birthmark, anyway. What's the big deal." She presents her back to Gerard for examination, and says to Cyrus, "Thank you very kindly."
Gerard's eyes widen. "By the milky tits of the blessed Unicorn," he breathes. He grabs Saja by the arm. "Where are you from? Who's your mother?"
Cyrus's brow furrows. He begins to reply to Saja but instead opts for just staring at Gerard.
"I don't have a mother," Saja proclaims. "Ain't got a dad, ain't got a mom, just got me and my darling Cyrus."
Cyrus rolls his eyes, "Can I at least see what they think you stole from them?"
Gerard mutters, "Everyone's got a mother, and a father too." He pauses. "Except maybe Dad." He shakes his head. "That birthmark, it's pretty unusual."
Gerard backs off a bit at Cyrus's question, though, and waits, curious.
"It's just stuck to me," Saja says. She attempts to tug her arm free from Gerard's grip. "Sure, why not." As Gerard lets go, she skips over to the mountain of barrels and hops up nimbly to scamper up top again. She holds out a bright golden doll. "See? It's mine. What kind of pirate'd want a dolly anyway."
Cyrus leans closer, "Looks Begman. And, yeah, why did the worst pirate in the multiverse want it?"
Gerard says, "Did you say Begman? And made from Alhambran gold by the look of it."
Gerard releases a slow breath. "Well, slap my ass and call me Flora." He looks to Saja and says, "I think you'd better come here, girl, and tell me your name. I'm sorry I yelled at you."
Saja jumps down and strolls toward the two men. She stares at Gerard, "Your name is Flora? Isn't that a girl's name?"
Cyrus looks more surprised by Gerard's last six words than he has at anything else recently.
Gerard quite suddenly, and shockingly, gathers Saja up into a bone-cracking embrace. "Shut up," he orders, without any rancor at all. "My name's Gerard, girl. I'm your- I'm your bloody father."
Cyrus, it appears, has indeed found something to be more surprised by. He sits down on a nearby barrell.
Saja is crunched, and taken too completely by surprise to do anything but blink. Which, of course, has the desired effect of shutting her up.
Gerard sets her down when he realizes Saja might, at some point, need to breathe. "I know that doll and I know that birthmark," he rumbles. "Storm and salt, I thought you were dead."
Saja draws in a breath, and hugs tightly to the doll. "What do you mean, you're my daddy." She says abruptly, "My name is Saja."
Cyrus picks up the bottle of rum which has conveniently rolled alongside his barrell. It still has roughly a third of its original volume. He takes a drink and shakes his head.
Gerard points at Saja and tells Cyrus, "My daughter!" He takes a breath and steps back. "I knew your mother, some time ago. We had a- well, we shared a night or three. I stayed until you were born, and you had the sun on your shoulder when you came."
Cyrus smiles and raises his bottle to the both of them. He says, "To family!" and drinks. He then looks behind him at the cutter. "Um, Admiral," he points to Paku.
Paku, having been somewhat calmed by M'buke, is standing gloriously on the prow of a landing boat, arms akimbo, as his men row him over.
Saja opens her mouth to speak, but looks to where Cyrus points. One of her hands reaches back to brush over the birthmark.
Gerard curses. "Forgot all about them. Girl, I mean Saja. Stay by me, yes? I'll explain the rest in a bit."
Cyrus moves toward the side of the ship with Paku approaching and waits.
One of Paku's men calls up, "Most resplendent Paku the Younger wishes to bless your ship with the soles of his feet!" Which seems to translate to 'permission to come aboard'.
Saja sidles closer to Gerard. She hides the doll behind her back. "Ok!"
Cyrus looks to Gerard, winks and says, "Come aboard, Your Excellency"
Gerard rolls his eyes.
Saja watches with big eyes.
Paku uses the bent back of one of his men as a stepping stone to the rope ladder that's slung over, and climbs up. He leaps onto the deck and poses, dramatically. "Paku has been informed that you were attacked," Paku declares, comfortable in the third person. "Paku is pleased to see that you escaped death, so that you may continue to revel in the glory of Paku's presence."
Cyrus bows deeply, possibly ironically. He says, "We are honored by the Great Paku's presence aboard our humble seagoing vessel." He then adds something in a language that sound as if he's having an athsma attack.
Paku claps his hands together, delighted. "Paku sees that you know the language of civilized people!" He wheezes something back. "And Paku sees you have brought a slave girl to sweeten our dealings."
Gerard growls, ominously.
Paku hurriedly adds, "But Paku is not interested in your filthy girl-thing."
Saja releases something between a sulk and scowl. She puts her hands on her hips, and declares, "I'm not a thing! I'm Saja!"
Paku, about to retort, notices Gerard's expression and instead declares, "Of course. Paku is not interested in your filthy Saja-thing." He smiles, expansively. "So, what is it that Amber offers in exchange for the assistance of Paku's fleet, and the flagship, the Bird of Paradise?" He gesture proudly at his sad little ship.
Cyrus rather obviously bites back several honest but non-helpful responses. He shouts to one of his crewmen who hands him a bag which he tosses towards the big guy to Paku's left. His expression consists of equal parts confusion and amusement because Paku's words in Sukhoti, earlier, translate to 'My mother thanks your goat children.'
Saja resides in silence now, though she watches the exchanges.
M'buke catches the bag and weighs it before nodding and handing it over to Paku. Paku smiles, displaying a bright gold tooth where his left incisor should be. "Paku is pleased with the generous gift of the Captain-Kings of Amber. The Bird of Paradise, and the rest of the Paradise fleet will help you for the span of three months. Four if you throw in the- no. Three will do nicely."
Cyrus nods slowly, "How many ships does the great Paku--" He stops, "Excuse me, Your Excellency. I am most humbly sorry." He turns to Gerard, "Sukhoti custom demands that we conduct all final financial exchanges in the mother tongue. I'll translate for you." He looks back to Paku with a broad smile.
Gerard looks surprised but nods. "Of course, of course." His hand rests protectively on Saja's shoulder.
Paku swallows and looks around. Hurriedly, he offers, "The Captain-Kings of Amber have shown good faith with their gold. Paku will show great kindness and conclude transactions in their savage tongue." He waves his hand, magnanimously.
Saja seems almost to jump at the unexpected touch, but she settles. And resumes to peering at the transaction as it is made. Paku seems to be of interest, she watches curiously.
Cyrus bows deeply, "You honor us most greatly." He then barks something that sounds like a harp seal trying to swallow a live cat.
Paku nods. "The honor is almost impossible to contemplate in its greatness. But Paku is pleased." With a sidelong look at M'buke and the others, he gutturals something in response which Cyrus understands to mean, 'Thirty cheese fly bedroom'.
Cyrus does not quite suppress a laugh but he attempts to cover it with a bow. "Pleasure doing business with you, Excellency." He looks to Gerard, "You satisfied?"
Gerard, slowly catching on to what might be going on grins and nods. "Yeah, I think I'm pretty pleased with how things turned out."
Cyrus turns to Saja, "Well, girl-thing, back to your room!" He winks.
Saja shifts a little, the doll coming into view as she relaxes slightly and hangs her arms at her sides. Her eyes widen, then narrow, then she pivots on one heel and swaggers off. In the wrong direction to get to quarters, but out of sight she goes nonetheless.
Paku waves to M'buke, who settles the rest of the specifics. Paku steps on the back of one of his men, again, before levering himself over the side and clambering down to his boat, whereupon he takes his position on the prow.
Cyrus walks back toward the bridge. "Weigh anchor!" he shouts to the crew. He looks around, "And look up the word 'stowaway' when we get back to shore, you idiots."
Gerard snorts. "Now where did that blasted girl go?" He sighs. "I'm going to have to write letters. I might need you to deliver them, actually. They have to get there fast."
Gerard says, "Or maybe I can just find the embassy."
The men prepare the ship for sailing and soon she is on her way back home.
Saja, as it turns out, is somewhere inside, helping herself to some fine liquor.
Gerard asks Cyrus, as they head belowdecks, "Don't suppose you know anyone in the Alhambran embassy?"
"Well, theres--" Cyrus begins and then stops short. "Have you seen my spyglass?"