Friday 29 December 2023

Project Empress 023

 Entremés 2.1

Meanwhile in Monasteria


Manfred Brumotti von Burg was filled by the fire of righteous indignation. His trust and benevolence had been betrayed. One of his students, ‘Former students’, he corrected in his mind, had gone behind his back to the Lord-bishop to somehow trick him into giving her the official, holy quest to win the fencing title of an upcoming tournament somewhere in the South for the greater glory of Monasteria. How she had even known about that tournament wasn’t clear to him. Surely she had somehow heard about it while gossiping with one of her friends. But instead of telling him, her master, of it she had gone directly to the Lord-bishop and gotten the quest herself. She had also somehow talked some wandering ‘master’ into sponsoring her. That little bitch had so cunningly asked him to let her transfer to another master, which he graciously had allowed. It wasn’t a big loss for the academy, as she was what Manfred called a “fun fencer”, someone who took up the sword not for the glory of winning tournaments, but just for the sheer pleasure of playing around with it. Which was perfectly fine. The “fun fencers” had their own corner in the hall, where they could work on their sloppy footwork, bad form and general lack of talent. Sometimes, every once in a while, out of this pool, after enough years of hard work, someone rose from those ranks to become a proper fencer. But mostly they were there to well, have fun, pay their academy fees and bask in the glory of being part of the leading fencing academy of Monasteria. 

He would, of course, distance himself from this snake. And of course it was a woman… Manfred fumed. They really didn’t make it easy for him to protect them. So often they were weak, but that was only natural, but also entitled. Dreaming dreams above their natural station. Of course a female could take up the sword and they could even rise above the level of pure fun fencers. But within their bounds. They did have their pretend tournaments, their own little spaces to fence in a safe environment, were they could pretend to be martial artists. But in an open tournament? With men? Ridiculous. 


But no matter, in the end it had opened up a new golden opportunity for Manfred. The Lord-bishop, for reasons only clear to him, had decided that this strange tournament, in Vienna of all places, was now something that the church of Monasteria was very interested in winning for the greater glory of God and its humble city. If Manfred could get this title, it would not only enhance the renown of his academy, but more importantly bring him up to speaking terms with the Lord-bishop. Then, finally, his school would stand head and shoulders above the other pretender schools and back alley academies which dotted the city. All of them were trash, second rate places with questionable methods. 

The Lord-bishop’s blessing would bring that last bit of official recognition which would turn his academy into the academy, not only in the city but the entire region.


Apart from that, it was high time that Eskil, his master student moved up to the rank of junior master and took over some more responsibility. For now Manfred would oversee the training of the new one. It was important to get him to as high a level as possible in the short months that they had. But it was also important to have Eskil learn the ropes of the high art of teaching others, so that he could be sent out, like in this case, to some faraway contest that had the potential to bear rich fruit for the academy. If he won, it would be proof that Manfred was a master among masters and if he lost, well, then he had obviously overestimated Eskil’s skills and would have to push him harder to become worthy of the school he was training in.


The new pupil, a young blond man built like a work-in-progress Greek god, showed despite being wounded enormous amounts of talent. He was very athletic, had a lot of previous training and had that certain ‘killer instinct’ which was so often lost to the new soft generation. Most importantly, he had the will to become a champion. He, despite the broken nose, had been walking his lanes, working on his footwork for two days straight now. Slowly he was getting them just right, perfect step, perfect measure, perfectly straight. One or two days more and he’d be allowed to hold his first sword. 


‘Yes’, master Manfred thought to himself, ‘this betrayal may in end be a blessing in disguise.’




Entremés 2.2

Later on the Ruhig Blut and afterwards


Natalie was screaming and kicking, being held back by Erika, who held her in something between a hug and a grapple. 

After Natalie had dispatched the last few pirates, sending them packing, often in a high arc overboard, she had made sure that there weren’t any left skulking around and walked back around the containers to see how Cara was holding up. As she had arrived on Cara’s side of the ship, she noticed that a small group of Pirates had managed to climb the ship the hard way, overcoming the passive defences of it. Two were without much success trying to break open the steel door leading to the bridge. Wolfram had not even graced them with a sideways glance, focusing exclusively on the path ahead, while three others were moving down the gangway. One of them had moved midships right into Natalie’s staff, falling to the ground stunned by the blow. Natalie jumped over him, following the final two along the port side of the ship. Ahead, she could see a Cara fighting a pirate dressed in red wielding two long knifes. Her style was a bit rushed but pretty solid. Natalie smiled to herself. She was now speeding along to help her pupil mop up the rest of the attackers. 

Cara had just dispatched her enemy, when Natalie’s pride turned into something colder. Cara was standing above her fallen enemy enjoying the after glow of victory, while the two pirates behind her were now accelerating towards her. Natalie started to sprint, not yet yelling a warning, so that she could overwhelm the pirate next to here with the element of surprise. She was preparing her rush attack when she heard Erika’s warning above her.  


“Cara, attenta!”


But it was too late. The two pirates were already cutting their losses. The one closest to Cara had lifted a black metal fighting stick in his hand, which came crashing down, as Cara was turning around. 

As Cara fell unconscious, her attacker caught her in his arms, with one hand he attached a grappling hook to the rail and, throwing Cara over board, rappelled down after her. His companion, drawing what looked like a hand canon from his jacket turned around. Seeing Natalie storming towards her took aim at her.

Natalie dove to the ground as the pistol fired a red glowing ball of fire. The flare flew over Natalie’s head. As she scrambled back up, the other pirate had also sprung over the railing and rappelled into the fog below. Natalie had run back and forth along the gangway trying to see anything below, but there was only the mist and the rumbling of the engines, in the distance a murder of crows was complaining about the racket they had caused. But even they fell silent after a while, leaving only the memory of the attack behind. 


Natalie had run to Erika, screamed at her to turn around and get Cara. But Erika had told her that it was impossible. They could not stop in time, turning around would take considerable time, in which they would be sitting ducks.

They had to push on to Datlem. Only then could they do anything to help Cara. 


The moment they had passed the mighty portals to Datlem, the city that controlled two important canal crossroads, Natalie had been itching to go off board. She had planned their next steps with Erika while constantly peeking over the side of the ship to see if there was a place where she could safely jump on land. 

Erika was going to talk to the port authority once they anchored. While Datlem’s sphere of control officially only reached to its city limits, welcoming everyone who behaved within them, very careful not to ask too many questions, the city actively discouraged any kind of criminal activity close to its gates. That was considered extremely rude.


Natalie on her end, when she finally managed to jump off board, took the shortest route towards Datlem Cathedral. 

The city was neutral ground owned by the church. It was the most important trade hub in the region based on its very Christian ‘don’t judge. lest you be judged’ approach to its guests, which made the local priest regionaria Alperta P.A. a woman far more powerful than her modest rank of priestess would normally grant her. To keep that position, she had to play nice with the regional powers. First and foremost among them the bishopric of Monasteria. Keeping the Lord-bishop happy meant remaining independent. They had a mutually beneficial understanding that shielded the Regionaria from church intrigue while granting the Lord-bishop privileged access to trading goods and, more importantly, the newest gossip about the local powers.


Armed with her official Monasterian charter in hand, she knocked on the door of the administrative building. First with her hand, then with her foot, followed by her staff. 

An angry church Deacon opened the door, head deep red and ready to scream, but he was outscreamed by a furious Natalie. 


“I’m here on a mission from god!”, she yelled as she waved the sealed parchment in front of the Deacon’s face. The Deacon stumbled a few steps back, Natalie rushing after him like a tidal wave that was approaching the end of politeness. 

“I need to talk to Monsignora Alperta now! This is a life or death situation that must not be delayed.”

Some ruffled feathers and some fire breathing on Natalie’s part later, she was in front of the Regionaria, who was tending to her orchids in the conservatory of the cathedral. The older woman listened to Natalie’s demands while continuing her work. When Natalie had said her piece, the Regionaria laid down the scissors she was holding, took a tiny watering can, watered the orchid in front of her and then turned to Natalie. Setting the can aside, she took the parchment in Natalie’s hand, as she started to read at the document with intent, a pince-nez appeared on her nose. The assistant responsible for this, did so by discretely appearing from between the plants, vanishing back into them when he was done. 

The Regionaria read the document. Took of the pince-nez handing it over to the reappeared assistant. Gave back the parchment to Natalie and looked her in her eyes. 

Natalie’s eyes narrowed by a small degree, but she stayed calm never looking away.


The Regionaria nodded. She took a tiny bell from the table where she had put her watering can and rang it. A different assistant manifested out from the surrounding plants, a clipboard in his hands. 

The Regionaria dictated that two small but fast motorised craft were to be prepared. A strike and rescue team was to be assembled by tomorrow morning an hour before daybreak. Their mission to assist master Natalie Laukkanen Lapointe in locating and liberating her student Cara Gibson Müller as well as making an example of the brigands who had dared to kidnap one of the Lords chosen flock so close to the sacred grounds of Datlem city. 


“Tomorrow morning”, Natalie had pressed out between clenched teeth, the best she could do to maintain proper decorum. 


“Yes,” the regionaria said. “Tomorrow. We need to prepare. You need to eat, pray to the Lord and rest. Our scouts will need time to go ahead, to see where the possible targets are hiding. My analysts will need to go over the Seraphim data to see if we can track your attackers. And then, when we are ready, we will strike. The pirates took your charge alive, they won’t kill her overnight. There are no cannibals left in the Purgatory gap.”


“I understand, Monsignora”, Natalie said, pushing down her burning fury, pressing it into something colder and harder. 




Tuesday 26 December 2023

Project Empress 022

 It was a strange feeling, the acceleration of the ship. It wasn’t the impressive push of a fast wagon. Compared to them, the Ruhig Blut was pushing out of ‘hardly in motion’ towards ‘not really fast’. What made it impressive to Cara was that the ship in all its mass was inexorably pushing forward, always close to leaving her behind. Like a continental plate, that had suddenly remembered that the stove back home was still on and was now hurrying back, leaving all on top of it to worry about what to grab hold of. 

Cara decided to walk a few steps back, standing against the back wall of the bridge, which was now softly and reassuringly pushing into her, like a slightly over eager floor. It also reminded Cara of her less than optimal posture. She used the opportunity to straighten her back and work on her core musculature. Something that master Manfred had told her she had to work on, never explaining how. He had also given up on her on that front many years ago. 


“I have to have a final look at the old gods”, Erika said. “After that, I will prepare for combat duty and meet you outside.” Erika left through the door in the back.


“You can stay here for a bit longer,” Wolfram said, his gaze focused on the channel before him, eye flitting over to the simulation and several displays and readouts. 

“Once we reach our final velocity, it will be easier to move. In the case that it should come to a battle and I have to break or change course in a way that could throw of you balance, I will ring the ships bell”, he pulled a small lever and a loud piercing ringing sound trilled through the air outside of the bridge. “When you hear that, brace yourselves. It will keep you safe. It’ll give you an edge in combat too, even quick witted pirates will need a few repetitions until they notice the pattern. However, the better ones will have proper sea legs and won’t have any problem with adjusting to the situation. But for now just enjoy the ride.”


The Ruhig Blut kept accelerating for a while, while pushing it’s way through a long curve. They were just coming out of it when Wolfram, started push the ship into a hard starboard direction. The ship slowly turned, Wolfram adjusted the baring. Cara was still wondering why he had done that when she noticed that not so far ahead the channel made a, for a cargo ship, sharp turn to the right. Wolfram pushed the throttle further forward, the engines going that little bit faster and he kept that up, while a display right above the throttle was slowly down the spectrum from a mellow green towards an increasingly insistent red. 

Cara’s hands were slowly turning into claws trying to grab hold of the steel wall behind her. The ship was now slowly turning towards the direction in which the canal was turning while still rather insistently drifting towards what now was an unhurriedly approaching metal clade canal edge. ‘Your Animus is still weak´, Walter’s voice resonated in her head, as she tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. She glanced over to her master, who, judging from her expression, was still undecided if she was seeing death in the eye or was having a really good time. 

Before they could hit the wall they were drifting towards, the ship´s propulsion finally managed to convince the boat to change track. Just as Cara was starting to relax again, Wolfram was twirling the wheel again, this time towards the port side. 

“Don’t worry”, co-captain Wolfram said, “We have azimuth thrusters.”


“Yaay…”, Cara tried. She looked over to Natalie, who looked back and shrugged her shoulders. The war over her expression was slowy being won over by enthusiasm. 


“I never quite get used to this”, Natalie said, “but Wolfram knows what he’s doing. If you can calm yourself, your survival instinct will start to relax. After that you can just enjoy the ride.”


“I don’t know… relaxing my survival instinct… it sounds like a less then optimal idea”, Cara said.


“Trust me”, Natalie said, trying a wide grin that was more fever than cheer.


“Yes, master Natalie”, Cara said, gritting her teeth and focusing on trusting Natalie. Indeed, after a couple more manoeuvres Cara started to get used to them, as every time they miraculously did not crash into walls but somehow, like strange prophesies coming to pass after millennia had passed after they had first been uttered, the Ruhig Blut somehow kept moving forward, always water in front of it and at least an hand’s breadth below it. 


“Get your weapons ready”, Wolfram said. “Over there”, he pointed forward and to the left, “the old channel joins the new part here. There could be the first attackers lurking.”


They did not. Even better, this was a long, mostly straight stretch of channel. It gave Cara time to catch her breath and even the control lamp above the throttle was back to its placid green. 


“Now is the time for you to get ready and out there. If there is going to be trouble it will be in about 5 miles from here. Then we will be in easy reach of the next part where the old channel meets the new. 5 miles further down, the channel will be winding its way about quite a few obstacles. We will bypass Ulfloa. I can’t go full steam ahead through their port region and they won’t help us. They will keep out of the conflict, siding with the winner…”, Wolfram sighed. “After that, we will just have to survive a bit longer and we are in the waters of Datlem, who don’t suffer any kind of conflict in their waters. There we will be safe. If all goes well well be back in safe waters in 40 minutes. After that it’s smooth sailing to Dortmund’s district 9”, Wolfram turned around for a second giving them both a crooked smile and a nod.


“You heard the co-captain”, Natalie said to Cara. “Use your sword first, it has the better reach, but keep that short stick of yours handy. If they come too close to you it will serve you better than your long sword.”


Cara nodded. Hesitated. Then asked: “What about you? You have your long sword and your even longer staff.” 


Natalie raised an eyebrow, the right corner of her mouth moving upwards. “That is a really good point. The answer is”, she put on her gloves and showed Cara their thick leather, the palm of the left had a long reinforced part across the palm, “and half sword techniques.”


“Half-sword?”, Cara asked. 


Natalie gripped her sword with her right hand at the grip placing her left hand on the middle of the blade. She showed Cara a few moves in that strange grip. The moves where short but controlled and powerful. “I know. I’ll teach you later, so don’t get killed.”


“Yes master”, said Cara trying to control her enthusiasm.


“Swear it.”


“What?”, Cara asked.


“That you won’t die today.”


“I swear that I won’t die before at least having won the manuscript we are after”, Cara said, straightening her posture even more.


“Attagirl”, Natalie said. She then paused, her head tilting to one side. Her intense look made Cara a bit uncomfortable. Maybe her master had realised that Cara wasn’t talented enough for this task. That all of this had been a big mistake. She swallowed.


“Your make-up”, Natalie said finally, “It’s not done yet.”


Only now Cara realised that she had been so engrossed in Erika’s explanations of the many interlocking systems that made the Ruhig Blut such a special ship, that she had forgotten to finish her make-up as she had originally planned.


“Anther reason to stay alive. That eye-shadow of yours won’t do on a dead face.”


Cara nodded. Natalie saluted her with two fingers before turning around to leave the bridge by its starboard door. 


“Before you go out, two things”, Wolfram said now looking forward again. “First, once you leave, the doors behind you will lock and you will not be able to open them from outside. If you need to retrea,t there is a door on the lowest deck of the container compartment. Midships. it will lead to a t junction both narrow with a few corner and emergency buttons big and red, that will instantly seal the corridor behind you. These are also weapons. If someone stand in their way when they come down, they will die. Understood?”


“Aye”, Natalie said.


“Y… yes”, Cara said.


“Good. The second point is, that the Ruhig Blut has several little surprises for attackers. They are mostly for show and to strike fear in their hearts. Don’t be surprised if you see or hear strange things. Especially if they are loud or dramatic. In this case the behemoth living in this waters is on your side. Understood?”


“Aye”, this time Cara and Natalie answered at the same time.


“Good. Now, all hands on deck please.”


 Cara moved out through the port door. After she had closed it, she heard several bolts slam into place. Through the windows which she now noticed had a dark green tint to them she could see Natalie on the other side grinning and waving at her. She waved back forcing something of a smile to appear on her face. 

As she moved down the stairs she noticed that she was shaking with nerves. She kept focusing on the training that she had had with both Natalie and Walter. As she did so she started to move more like she had on the green on the roof above Bacchus’ Barrel which now seemed to incredibly far away. Now she was here on a ship that was, maybe, about to be attacked by pirates. Under her fear, she felt a strange little tingle. A small seed of excitement taking root in her mind. She grabbed hold of it, encouraging it to grow. 

She had reached the part of the ship where cabins and the closed storage rooms ended and the ship was open. As she was about to climb the ladder down towards the walkways on the gunwale of the ship, she saw Erika appear from a door further down through the door Wolfram had mentioned earlier. On her back she was carrying a large metal back pack thing that over a cable was connected to a strange staff, that was one part rifle and one part science fiction weapon. 


“Is that a laser?”, Cara asked.


Erika looked up at her, waved at her with the strange weapon thing. 

“In part”, Erika said. “If you want I’ll explain how it works to you later.”


“I’d love to”, Cara said as she climbed down the ladder. When she had arrived at the level of the gunwale, Erika was walking up a steep set of stairs leading to the middle gangway above the containers. 


“Wonderful”, Erika called down. She pulled a retracting cable out of the backpack, plugging it in and securing it in a rail above the gangway. As she did, the backpack came alive with lights starting to glow and the whole thing making a noise like a turbine slowly revving up to speed. Erika gave her a thumbs up and wandered out of Cara’s line of sight.


Cara turned around and wandered along the guard rail, when over her Erika’s head reappeared. 


“Cara.”


“Yes?”


“Did I tell you about the honey pots?”


“You have bees here?”


Erika looked at her for a few moments blinking. “I’d love too, but I don’t think that works on a ship… or does it…?”, she shook her head, “But that’s not the point right now; no it´s that lower gunwale and the ladder in the middle”, she pointed towards the central point of the ship. “It’s open and undefended. It attracts pirates, like honey attracts the bear.”


Cara nodded strategically, hoping that it would encourage Erika to tell her more. It worked.


“The rest of the ship is well defended. High walls, hard to climb and, in combat, electrified overhanging wires. Very hard to get on the ship that way, except with an equally large or larger tanker. Pirate tankers don’t survive in the canal network… Anyway. The gunwales along the container parts are lower, easier to reach and in the middle they have these nice open ladders. The even go behind the bulky navigation lights. Very convenient. Greed makes people dumb. They will go up the ladder. Giving you an easy time to dispatch them one by one. If we get attacked. Stay back a bit you don’t want to scare the idiots away. If the attackers are mostly men and they see you? Scream in a high pitched and pathetic way.” Erika screamed, it was shrill and sounded terrified. “Oh no! Please…”, she pleaded, her eyes wide with horror, “… don’t hurt me. I’ll give you anything you want. But please don’t hurt me”, she said, looking at Cara with even bigger eyes and pursing her lips a bit. “8 out of 10 times it works and the idiots walk just right into your attack. Cazzi…”


Cara kept nodding, wrestling her confusion to keep it out of her face. Erika gave her a last look. “Just hit them with your sword. Hard”, she said.


Cara nodded again, this time more convincing and with that, Erika’s head was gone again.


Cara checked her defence stick, it was well in reach of her right hand, stuck into her belt. She jumped a couple of times to make sure that it wouldn’t suddenly fall down or shift into a position where she couldn’t easily reach it. It stayed where it was supposed to. She placed her sword held in her left hand over her left shoulder. With the wind tussling her hair she felt very heroic. As they moved past the increasingly wild vegetation at the edges of the canal she struck one pose after another looking for one that felt appropriately heroic. After a while she discovered that looking heroically into the horizon wasn’t that much fun if there wasn’t anyone to marvel at her poise. It also wasn’t that comfortable. So she walked up and down the gangway. Always hurrying past the honey pot ladder, to make sure that she didn’t startle any lurking pirate who had silently swum to the flank of the ship and was planning his shadowy infiltration. 

She had taken great care to always keep the ladder in her field of view somehow when patrolling. But in the end she sat down on the gangplank a few metres away from the ladder, to the aft of the ship so she could watch the now overgrown forests at the edge of the canal floating by while keeping a stealthy eye towards the trap. 

She was startled out of it by a loud hissing notion coming from the entire length of the ship. There was also a muted ringing of the ships bell. As mist billowed in thick sheets from the canal below. She remembered that Wolfram had said, that if they were to be attacked she’d notice by the ship doing strange things. She stumbled back up to her feet. The hissing came again and even more thick fog appeared. The navigation light started to glow much brighter now giving the fog a deep red colour. Not really like blood but close enough to be understood as a warning. She then felt a rumble shiver through the entire ship, a split second later followed by the bellowing of the ships oversized fog-horn. As it resonated through Cara and their surroundings the fog grew thicker extending ever wider. By now the Ruhig Blut was completely enshrouded by it. Below the navigational lights Cara would not have been able to see her hand in front of her face. 

“THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING”, a deep booming voice thundered out of dozens of speakers all around the ship. “THIS IS THE FREE TRADER RUHIG BLUT. YOU LEAVE US ALONE, WE LEAVE YOU ALIVE. THE MOMENT YOU LAY A HAND ON THIS SHIP OR DARE BOARD IT WE WILL GIVE YOU NO QUARTER. TURN BACK NOW, OR DIE”, the voice thundered, followed by another long rumbling boom of the foghorn. 


‘Pirates’, Cara thought, her heart started to race. ‘I’m going to fight pirates.’ Her eyes started to glow, her heart racing. She gripped her sword now with both hands and moved slowly towards the ladder in front of her while the fog came crawling on deck from below. 


As she moved forward, she heard the roar of smaller boat engines coming to life from several directions. Whatever stealthy manoeuvre the pirates had originally planned, now that they had been discovered they threw the veil of subtlety aside. 

A moment later Cara felt the Ruhig Blut jolting ever so slightly. The pirate attack boats had made contact with their ship. 

There was a the high pitched trill of the warning bell again. Cara crouched down, bracing herself for whatever may come next; covering her ears and squinting, just to be on the safe side. Right now she would not have been surprised if dinosaurs had suddenly erupted from the containers above. 

What happened instead was that far below, the dead gods started screaming in rage, the entire ship vibrating slightly as its frame tried to contain them. As they did, first the navigation lights started to glow brighter, drawing the eyes of everyone around towards them. Then, below them a string of floodlights that surrounded the ship came to life casting its harsh blue tinged light into the water below. Even through her hands Cara could hear the screams of the attackers below as they were blinded by the aggressively bright light. 


Inside, on the bridge, co-captain Wolfram threw his favourite switch.

Outside on the stern and on both sides of the prow where the name of the ship proudly stood, neon lights flicked to life. They added a few words above and some letters to the end of the ship´s name. Taking the “Ruhig Blut”, “stay chill”, and turning it into “Komm näher, du kannst Ruhig Bluten”, “Come closer and feel free to bleed”. Wolfram chuckled, turned on his microphone, roaring in his best overlord voice: “YOUR LIFE IS FORFEIT. MUWHAHAHAAAHAAA!”


Outside, Cara was trying to feel a bit better about her situation, but she had to admit that the entire lighting and thunder show was working. Despite being on the ship´s team she was starting to get scared. It didn’t help that Wolfram’s laughter was followed by two blasts of the fog horn. 

The tactic worked, as there was a a shadow trying to climb up the honeyed ladder, which slipped out of sight as the fog horn shook space and time around it.


Her hands covered in cold sweat, Cara decided that she really needed to read the book on Animus that Walter had given her. She had no control over hers. Inside she was all knotted up and any movement was not with her body but against it. Her body had decided that getting as close in form to a rock having a panic attack was the best idea right now, while her mind kept screaming that now was the time to relax and remember her training. 


The shadow that had disappeared on the ladder was now back. It turned out to be a pirate. Looking more like a young man in his black edgy phase, still blinking and shaking his head. The pirate in black saw Cara cowering and instantly relaxed. He grinned and started moving towards her. 


“Oh hello there, who do we have here?”, he asked.


Cara got up, still trying to explain to her muscles, that when one side tensed the other had to relax. The muscles didn’t buy it, deciding to stay all tense.


“Please”, Cara said, moving her sword forward, the point towards the pirate. Behind him another pirate, this one apparently preferring red, appeared on the gangway. 

“Look what I have found”, the pirate in black said to the one in red. “We already have a bonus. And we’ll even get a black sword on top.”


The pirate in red looked at Cara. He laughed when he saw her. “Nice”, he said. “Looks, like all of this was just smoke and mirrors.” 

They both laughed.


Cara took a deep breath, exhaled. That was all she could do consciously, the rest her body had to take care of. She didn’t have time for that now.

Trying to focus on Natalie’s and Walter’s lessons, she let the point of her sword sink again. 


Gritting her teeth she said, “I am very sorry. But you need to leave the ship.”


“No can do”, the black clad pirate said coming forward, shrugging apologetically. He drew a short but thick cutlass. It had a black blade. This actually relaxed Cara. She had fought and had been beaten by black swords hundreds of times. They hurt, they could break things, mostly her bones, but they did not kill as easily as sharps. 


“This is your l…”, Cara remembered the words the others always used in these situations.  “Y… your first and last warning. Leave of suffer the consequences.”


“Oh, no…”, the pirate in black said putting one of his hands on his cheek in mock fear. “Or I will be forced to spank some manners into you”, he laughed.


Before Cara could react, the pirate in black was rushing forward, cutlass raised. As he pushed forward, his cutlass flew down, trying to smash into Cara’s hands. 

Cara remembered what Natalie had told her during their first training session. ‘Don’t be afraid. The art will protect you.’ 

‘That shouldn’t be too hard’, Cara thought, remembering how often master Manfred had told her that she was slow and dumb. 

Before the cutlass could reach her wrists, crushing them, she pulled her leg back, pushing her back closer to the containers, pulling her hands out of harms way. She raised her sword, the strong of its blade stopping the enemy cutlass. As she felt the contact, she raised her hands, the cutlass now stuck and controlled by her cross guard. She turned her back foot around so that it now pointed towards her enemy, who was only now becoming aware that his attack had been blocked. The black clad pirate started to turn his own blade in his grip to better counter Cara’s force. 

Cara lifted her back foot as the pirate in black moved his sword.

‘When you walk the path’, she remembered Natalie telling her, ‘you just move through your enemies towards the sword masters of old.´

Cara stepped forward, carrying the point of her sword with her, pushing into the throat of her attacker. She felt that she made contact with his throat protection when her back foot was passing her front foot. Her grip steadily carried her through as she pushed past the pirate, sending him flying head first into the man in red behind him. 


“I hit!”, Cara exclaimed, a warm wave of excitement rushing through her body. 


The pirate in black was pushed back to his feet by the one in red. He coughed, when he looked up, Cara was relieved to see that he was still alive, but also a bit smug that she had killed his smile. The pirate changed his stance, now holding his cutlass in a more protective stance as he moved forward. The pirate in red was now also readying his weapons. 

The eyes of the pirate in black were now ablaze with anger. 

As Cara saw that, she started to relax a bit. The pirate´s form was weak, his style was sloppy. Her enemy taking her seriously helped her to get deeper into the flow of combat.

The pirate was now showering her with blows, alternating from left to right at a speed that impressed Cara, as she calmly blocked them with the strong of her blade. She was observing the impressive move-sets of her opponent. His sword slashes forming almost a V-shape as they kept raining down on her. He was creating enough pressure that Cara had to inch a bit away from her enemy every once in a while, but she was still lost in thought. 

‘Hmm…’, she thought, ‘if I wasn’t blocking his sword it would be more of an X shape, that means…’, her sword was making more of an inverse V shape. As she was left handed, strikes attacking her right were especially easy for her to block. ‘There!’ As an attack to her left moved over to the right, she swung her sword around to her right, the point falling, moving into an arc into the side of her enemie´s exposed head. His attack was still on its way, when his head was smashed into the containers. There was still significant force in his original attack, which dissipated in a puff of futility on the strong of Cara’s waiting sword. The black clad pirate stumbled back. Cara snapped her sword around again, squatting low as she moved forward. Her blade catching under the pirate’s armpit. She pushed up, shoving him over the ship’s railing into the water below. 


She turned back to the red pirate, smiling. “I did that”,she said, pointing over board. 


The pirate in red had seen. He was now crouching in front of her, two long thick knives in his hands. ‘That’s going to be interesting’, Cara was still thinking when she noticed a bunch of other black clad pirates behind the man in red. There were three of them, one half crouching a few steps further back the gangway. Another one standing directly behind him. The third was moving towards the prow of the ship. What had caught Cara’s eye were the crossbows the two men facing her were holding. They were definitely pointed at her.


“That’s cheating”, Cara said, her eyes scanning her surroundings for something, anything, that could provide some cover. Aside from jumping over board there was nothing. 

“Fiddlesticks…”, Cara said, her energy seeping away from her again. 

As she was gritting her teeth, getting ready for a dash towards the red pirate in the hope to somehow dive behind him for cover, she noticed that a thin blue line of laser light had appeared from above, dancing over a metal plate that was covering the standing marksman’s right shoulder. As she saw that, she felt the slight shudder of the dead gods, screaming louder below decks. She looked up seeing Erika pointing her weird rifle at the pirates below. Her backpack had come alive with strange purple light. 

As Cara’s eyes darted between the men with the crossbows and Erika, a blue-white ray of lighting jumped from the the strange rifle in Erika’s hands to the pirates. The man standing was cramped, shooting his bolt wide. The metal bolt was encased in St. Elmo’s fire. 

The lightning sprung from the standing man to his kneeling companion, who also misfired as all his muscles started to cramp. 

Cara was hit first by a wave of the smell of ozone. Followed by a strange sweetish smell that reminded her of barbecue parties in summer. 


“Don’t just stand there, piccola”, Erika shouted from above. “Get that stronzo in red.”


Cara was back in the fight. She closed the space between the pirate in red, careful not to get so close, that he could reach her with his long knives. 

She knew several styles of “langes Messer”, the long knife, but she had never seen one use two at the same time. But she knew of some Italian and Spanish styles that used a dagger together with a rapier.

As the red pirate moved, she smirked. Instead of using one of his weapons as defence and closing in on her, he was wasting time by making a flurry with both, getting up slowly. When he moved forward, his movements were heavy and clunky. Cara wanted to spring forward, point first, using her superior range. But she stopped herself in time. 

The pirate in black had been wearing armour below his lose clothes. Just as Cara was wearing armour underneath hers. Hitting him with a black sword with a rolled tip like hers on a breast plate, would leave her open. Not taking her enemies seriously because they were not following any style would also be a bad idea. The black pirate had not taken Cara seriously and then he had gotten emotional. Both reasons for why he was now in the canal. ‘Just follow the path’, Cara thought to herself, noticing that the man in red was showy, but he was showy outside of Cara’s reach. His posing was a trap.

Cara lunged into it with a cut from above, lunging towards the pirate´s face. He easily blocked her blade with one of his long knifes. She instantly withdrew, pulling her blade back  and changing her footing so that, instead of facing the containers, she now faced the water again. The second knife crashed against her blade closer to the point, thus displacing it. The red pirate used this opening to close the distance between them, his first knife now pointing towards Cara’s face moving forward. 

Cara had to stop herself from moving back. This was one of Walter’s harder lessons. Retreating against an opponent who had a strong aggressive style, created the illusion of security, followed by the reality of defeat. If she pulled back now, she would block the oncoming threat but also free the knife she had just blocked. After that it was just a matter of time until she would be hit.

Instead Cara inhaled, gritting her teeth she pushed forward past all her instincts, swinging her sword in a wiping motion as she moved past it, keeping the first knife bound against her blade. The far end of her sword crashed into the second knife above. 

Now, past the knives herself, her sword had a clear way towards the pirate in red. She twisted her body around, again sending her sword flying toward the face of the red pirate. But there was no impact. The man bent over backwards, her sword missing him by the tiniest of margins. He sprung back up, the hand that was close to Cara shooting forward with another stab attack, while the second knife was moving in a long arc towards whatever part of her body remained undefended when blocking the stab. 

Cara rotated her body back in the other direction, towards her attacker, throwing her sword in a wiping motion to his outstretched hand that was holding the stabbing knife. She should have pressed on, but the motion of the other flying knife was too much for her. She pulled back, lifting the sword, blocking the second knife. The attacker gasped. Whatever Cara had hit, it was a good hit. The stabbing knife fell out of a limp hand. The pirate shook his hand. There was something painfully wrong with the shape of his wrist. But to Cara’s terror, her attacker just focused on the remaining knife and his target.

Cara was about to slip back into a panic. She could hear her breath coming in rapid puffs. ‘No time for panic’, she thought. ‘Only the path.’ In the background she could hear Erika’s lightning weapon striking someone on the other side of the ship. 

‘I’ve got the better range’, she thought, pushing forward several exploratory stabs, which the pirate in red swatted away with ease. ‘His technique is weak, but his focus is phenomenal.’ The attacker tensed his body. As Cara’s next stab came, she knew that she’d made an error. He jumped into her blade, intercepting it with his long knife. As her sword rebounded, the pirate turned his knife around to hook the part of the grip extending out of his grip behind Cara’s cross bar. Cara would either lose her sword or be pulled into the knife face first. But he wasn’t there yet. Cara relaxed her arms, her sword falling, bumping over the metal pommel of the long knife. Now her blade was under her attackers arms. She made contact with the blade, push cutting upwards. Moving the knife above her head, shoving it aside. Her blade, moving in a C shape over her opponent´s arms, now lay on top of his arms. With a little jump she smacked the arms of the pirate against the rail. This time he screamed. He let go of his second knife that landed with a clatter on the bright crimson navigational light. Making sure that she used the flat of her blade, she struck the pirate square in the face with it. The man stumbled back crumpling to the floor.


“Cara: two. Pirates: nil.”


“Cara, attenta!”, Erika yelled, pointing at something behind Cara.


As Cara turned, she could see the shadow of motion out of the corner of her eye. 


The shadow was followed by darkness.