A Pirates Tale

“Shh,” Anya rocked and patted Scarlet’s head, trying to soothe the child.

Banging, scratching, and shouting could be heard from above ground. Seven Azarian soldiers guarded the East cellar entrance, following orders to knock down anyone who tried to enter.

“Your Majesty?” a small voice called to Anya from across the room. Looking over, she saw a little girl about Scarlet’s age with brown hair and blazing hazel eyes. She sat beside a pile of straw, hiding in its shadow with her knees to her chest. It wasn’t easy to make out the girl’s features, but Anya knew she recognized the girl.

Scarlet looked up from her mother’s embrace. “Mar-!” she began to shout, but Anya quickly stifled her, covering her mouth and pulling her close. Anya looked back to the girl and motioned her to come with a nod. When the girl’s face came into view, Anya instantly recognized her; it was one of Scarlet’s playmates, Mary Anna.

Bringing Mary into her arms alongside Scarlet, she rocked both whimpering children, waiting for her beloved soldier to come for them. Amid her lullaby and salty tears from both Mary and Scarlet, the three heard the wooden cellar door splinter and men cry in death.

William plunged his sword for the fifth time into a dirty pirate’s chest. When he looked up, he saw more fallen men than standing. He had lost the decorated pirate soon after their second engagement. Looking about the hall now, he could scarcely tell the difference between a pirate and an Azarian soldier. Holding his side, he spotted Jeff finishing off a pirate on the dais. Jeff slashed, parried, thrust, slashed. The pirate deflected his blows some but staggered back into William’s chair. Without hesitation, Jeff plunged his sword into the pirate’s belly, once, twice, three times. He was about to bury his sword into the squishy pirate again when he felt William’s presence and twisted around to meet his King. “Sire.” His chest was heaving, blood splattered across his uniform and dripping from his arms and left wounded leg.

William addressed him dutifully. “We have to move.”

Jeff nodded. They took a moment to tie off Jeff’s leg and gather the other standing soldiers in the hall. While helping a man to his feet, they heard a shrill cry. The fourteen Azarian soldiers left standing looked at one another, horrified, before sprinting toward the cellars.

Behind a large wooden crate, in the far corner of the East cellar, Anya hid from the oncoming storm of pirates. She pushed both girls between the wall and the crate and began scraping at the grouted stones at the top of the wall with a stick. She was able to loosen one, then another, then another. In a little under four minutes, she cleared a space just large enough for the girls to crawl through.

“What are you doing, mommy?” Scarlet whispered.

“This will lead you out.” Anya panted, clawing at the dirt with her nails; she soon caught rays of faint moonlight floating into the dank cellar. She dug faster, revealing a blue starlit sky.

“Come.” she held her arms out to Scarlet and Mary. “I need you to listen closely.” She grasped the girls by their arms, leaning close. “When you reach the top, you will be facing the forest. Run, as fast as you can. Don’t stop. Run until you get to a creek, where you can rest for a drink. Cross over the creek and pass the great pine.” She looked to Scarlet, holding her gaze. “Remember the one we had picnics by? The one Daddy carved in? Go past the pine and you will see a cottage. A woman named Rachel lives there; she’ll know what to do. Do you understand?”

Scarlet nodded blindly, and quivered with fear as she thought, ‘Why is she telling me this? She’s coming with me. I’m so scared. What’s going on?’

“But you’re coming with us?” Scarlet whispered, searching her mother’s eyes for reassurance.

“No, my love, you have to go. Go to the forest, past the creek, past the pine, to Rachel.” Anya said, gathering her daughter in one last embrace.

“But mommy I -”

“Now!” she spat, pushing her away. Without allowing the children to resist, Anya hoisted and pushed the girls through the hole. “Remember, past the creek, past the pine, to the cottage,” she called up the tunnel. “I love you.”

Scarlet whimpered through the hole, “Mommy, no!” But Mary was pulling fast at Scarlet’s arm, begging her to move on.

“We must go, Scarlet!” Mary pleaded tears in her own eyes.

Anya watched them scramble away toward the forest.  As their shadows faded to mingle with the moonlit trees, she replaced the stones and pressed herself into the corner between the crate and the wall. Letting her body slump to the floor, she pressed her knees into her chest and bowed her head in prayer to Sora, the watcher and keeper of children. ‘Watch over my girls,’ She prayed, careful not to make a sound, ‘Watch over them. Keep them safe. Watch over my girls, keep them safe.’  She repeated it until a dark, skinny figure loomed over her with a fiendish grin.