The Captain's Stand

by Kat Mandu

  “Sure thing,” he replied with a nod before departing. Richard glanced over the group, noting that most of them seemed rather paranoid.

  “Oh brother, get back to your damn posts already. If you are that worried, stop hanging about,” he snapped. The group immediately took the hint and began to hightail it out of there.

  “It seems organic but I don’t think this is whatever was attacking you – whatever it was that was attacking you. Still, I think I will keep a sample and I would advise a bath for you, young lady,” he noted, scooping a bit of the material into a bottle. Once it was sealed, he slipped it into a pocket for safekeeping.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” Spark warned, eyeing the corpse still lying on the ground.

  “I doubt it will attack you, it may disperse. Magic usually needs some kind of human source – be it a body or some sort of soothsayer – to keep it going. I think you will be fine,” he responded.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, glancing away for a second. But they snapped right back, as if the creature would make a run for it.

  “I am well-equipped with at least a passing knowledge on magic. I will admit I have no talent for it, but I would be very remised if I didn’t know how to handle it at this point. Now, get moving. If you don’t get this cleaned off, it will stain your rather beautiful wings,” he said, moving away from her. “There should be a spring a bit to the north. If you’re in luck, it shouldn’t be too cold.” With that taken care of, he walked over to Richard. “How are the pistols holding up?” he asked.

  “Amazingly, I killed a Gargoyle with them. They are so cool,” Richard said in hushed excitement, pulling out both and looking them over.

  “Good to know you appreciate them. I may just have you test out some of my other inventions when I am feeling confident in them,” Conan said with a wink. Richard simply nodded in agreement, putting both pistols away.

  “Well, you heard the man, get moving,” Richard said suddenly, swatting Spark on the ass. She leaped at the action, hand to her backside before glaring hard at him. “It’s a complement,” he said, smirking and waiting for her to start walking. He motioned with one hand that she should lead the way when she still stood there.

  “Do you plan on escorting me?” she asked coolly, but not thrilled with his behavior. The thought of him following her while her purpose was to bathe unsettled her a bit.

  “You plan on walking around, wearing that short of a dress in a place were almost anything can seemingly kill you? I don’t think so,” he said, raising one eyebrow.

  “Why do I have a feeling that you’re going to be difficult?” she asked, dropping her head forward and pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “Well, do you plan on hanging around the ship?” he asked. She nodded slowly, staring at him with her brows furrowed. “Then you are ma responsibility. And your wellbeing falls under that category.”

  “Well, that’s a responsible way of looking at it,” Spark admitted, eyeing him with a bit of suspicion.

  “Besides, I have no idea if the ship will be there if you die,” he added. “Now get moving. I don’t have all day. Unless you need some motivation,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “Pig,” she said simply but complied nonetheless. Richard rested one hand on the hilt of his sword and followed her north. Behind them, Conan merely chuckled and shook his head at their antics.

  Chapter 23 The Last One

  Richard closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of jungle around him. He could hardly see a thing in the dark, let alone something like magic slime. He pressed a finger to his temple, trying to recall what Spark had called them. After a few moments, he decided that it wasn’t worth the brain power to remember the name. But in that same moment, he could make the light sounds of splashing water behind him. He sighed, left foot tapping away in impatience. He already had to do some hunting around or a towel earlier and he was more than ready to get moving. He was concerned for he didn’t know when his adversary would arrive and he wasn’t in his position.

  A few droplets of water landed on his head and he resisted the urge to look up. He was getting extremely impatient with her taking her time. He was beginning to wonder if she was doing it on purpose simply to get back him for his earlier comment.

  “All set,” Spark finally said, pushing the short skirts of her dress down and giving her wings a quick flick to remove the excess water.

  “Can we get going? I haven’t heard a word from anyone and I would rather – AHHHH!” he cried. Spark had hooked her arms around him and shot off into the air. “Shit!” he shouted, feet kicking in panic when his mind made the connection that he was no longer moving under his own power. “What the hell?” he screamed at Spark, shooting an angry glare her way. She ignored him and gained altitude until he was looking at the tops of the towering trees. He dropped into a bigger panic, hands clawing at the air in an attempt to grab onto something.

  “Now, isn’t this relaxing?” Spark asked casually, spiraling upwards and spinning Richard around. He fell limp, feeling as if what little food remaining in his stomach was about to come back out. Spark stopped abruptly, hovering in the air while Richard’s vision began to swim. His eyes felt like they were rolling aimlessly in his head and when he managed to glance down, the island was far below him.

  “You grab me like that again, and I promise you that a drop from this height will be the last of your worries,” she threatened. Richard was seething.

  “I would say that escalated quickly,” he ground out, managing to keep his tone very calm and even. He took a deep breath and when he spoke next, his voice was even calmer. “You have made your point, now put me down,” he said. Spark slowly descended, watching Richard with a careful eye even though he remained motionless. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he spun around, the barrel of a pistol pointed straight at her face.

  “If you ever threaten me with such violence again, I will take the matter out of your hands,” he promised, pulling the hammer back. “This killed the Gargoyle, I would rather nae test it out on you. Ask nicely next time,” he said, eyes cold as he released the hammer and put the gun back in its holster. He gave a small smirk. But Spark was not going to let it simply rest at that. In a flash, she had brandished her needle-thin blade and swung harshly at him. Richard managed to draw his own blade and block it before she could hit him.

  “Arrogant, how dare you!” Spark snarled, glaring across the blades at Richard.

  “Double standards, much? You just threatened to kill me simply because I grabbed your ass?” Richard replied, pushing back against the swords. She swung fast, using her shorter sword for her advantage. Richard backpedaled and waited, parrying each of her blows. It was almost amusing to watch her face contort with rage.

  “To think, I let you have your wish. You disgusting, perverted, ARROGANT PIRATE!” she shouted, swinging at him with more force on each word. Richard simply deflected her attack, disarming her with a quick upward flick of his wrist. In her moment of disbelief, he latched onto her thin wrist and wrenched her close, a smile on his lips.

  “Feel free to leave if you like. Although, losing someone as skilled as you would be,” he said, pausing to find the right words. “A terrible loss on ma part.”

  “Then why instigate?”

  “I have ma reasons,” he stated, releasing her wrist. “All the same, I do need to get going since I have no idea how much longer Brendan will be off. So, I do think we should cut this a bit short,” he finished with a smirk.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game,” she said, watching as he sheathed his sword.

  “I never really noticed. I just stick to ma principles and try to do right,” he replied.

  “Like groping women who aren’t asking for it?” Spark accused.

  “I did say try,” he reiterated with a shrug. Spark sighed irritably, but decided that her anger at his actions were getting her nowhere. “Besides, you do look good but we need to get moving. Back to business. The question is where do
we go from here?”

  Before he could say a word, Spark had grabbed ahold of him once more and bulleted off the ground. Richard held one hand in front of his face to buffet the wind but Spark went rigid fairly quickly.

  “Shit,” he hissed when she dropped them both into the bushes. Richard took a deep breath, already knowing what he was going to see when he pushed back the brush. But he did it anyways and saw that the area before him was completely overrun with pirates. And none from his crew. A quick glance over showed him that it was a rather small group but still able to pull off their original plan.

  Richard watched Brendan cut a man open, blood spilling into a bowl that was already partially full. The blood that fell short ran like rivers down the stairs.

  “Fuck, it’s already started. I need to find that damn fuse,” he muttered, searching his pockets and the ground nearby.

  “So, what now?” Spark asked, watching him curiously.

  “I do what I do best – adapt to the situation,” he replied, moving around the outer circle of the altar.

  “No!” someone cried. “Please, I don’t want to die,” the man sobbed. Richard blocked the sound – he had no desire to listen to dying rambles – and kept his focus trained forward. The man was doomed because as soon as he stepped foot on the altar steps, he would be dead one way or another.

  “Shrink down and see if you can find the others,” he ordered, barely glancing at Spark. “The ship is coming back around and as soon as it does, it’s going to open fire. Make sure that everyone is as far away from the altar as possible.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, standing to attention and saluting. She shrunk down and zipped off into the foliage before he had a chance to say more. He took a deep breath, keeping both eyes peeled. Most of the pirates were more interested in the screaming man being hauled bodily up the stairs. He shook his head with a sigh.

  “I’ll never understand why a man cannae die with some dignity. There is nothing here to help, and even if the Navy were to show up, you wouldn’t live long anyways,” he bit out with a cross expression. He shuddered at the long-buried memory and continued along the edge of the altar.

  If Tray and James listened, there should have been at least the first fuse, ready and waiting. Thankfully enough, it was right where it should have been. Richard paused when he spotted it.

  “Well, no sense in waiting. I just hope they fused the two lines or else this is going to get complicated,” he murmured, digging through his pockets for a piece of flint. Once he grabbed it, he struck the flint and lit the fuse. “I have to admit, this is kind of dull. It would be more interesting with some kind of grand fight. Oh well,” he mused, shrugging. He was about to rise when the tip of a sword tapped him right between the shoulder blades.

  “You are the last person I thought I would see,” a familiar voice said. Richard slowly raised his hands.

  “Of all the times to die,” Richard hissed to himself. “I got distracted, guess there is no one to blame but maself,” he thought, slowly turning his head.

  Todd had a haggard look on his face, as if he had been unable to sleep for days. His build was thinner than Richard recalled and his sword hand was not nearly as steady. Richard made to stand up but Todd held his hand up.

  “Leave, kid. I’ll give you one last go for old time’s sake. But if you stay here, you’re as good as dead,” Todd said, withdrawing his sword. He hesitated at the sheath. “I really should turn you in since you put me through hell because of your little stunts. And the amount of trouble you’ve caused has been nothing but an endless source of misery. But damn, I would do the same fucking thing if I didn’t have so much wrapped up in this,” he admitted, clicking his sword into place.

  “I was hoping to see you,” Richard said. “I would recommend getting back to the ship and out of the area. I’ve got a feeling that if you are in the right place at the right time, you could take full advantage of the rest of ma severance package.”

  “What are you up to, kid?” he asked coolly. But the words barely left his lips when a torrent of fire shot up from the bottom of the stairs. He looked past Richard, eyes wide as the blast send people flying and panic exploded. Pirates began rushing about in every which way. Richard glanced over his shoulder casually, noticing that the flaming eruption had burned out an oversized pagan symbol in the ground.

  It became the best time to bolt for anyone still waiting to be sacrificed. Brendan was shouting orders but in the panic, no one was listening to them. Fighting had broken out and the din was deafening. Richard smirked when the Golden Eagle moved into his line of sight.

  “Is that another ship?” Todd shouted, pushing past Richard. The ship opened fire and trees crashed to the ground, only adding to the flames. The heat burned at the night sky and Richard realized that most of the island was going to catch on fire. “Oops,” he thought, but he barely even flinched at the idea. With flames around the area and cannonballs raining from on high, only the most headstrong of pirates had remained.

  “Richard!” someone called. He glanced up to see Spark fluttering above him. “I found them.”

  “Well, tell them to start getting rid of these pirates. For anyone who surrenders, give them parley, but make sure they are restrained. I’ve got unfinished business of ma own,” Richard told her, jumping into the clearing. One of the pirates was rushing around, trying to stomp the fire out of his shoes. When he noticed Richard, he steadied the hand holding his cutlass but Richard didn’t pause. He arched his blade down, slicing the man’s hand and swung back up to cut the man’s throat. Blood splashed on the ground, sizzling in the fire while the man fell to his knees, clutching uselessly at a stump and a mangled throat.

  Richard raced around the clearing, never missing a step, until he came upon the base of the stairs. Brendan glanced down at him, glaring when he saw the satisfied smirk on Richard’s face.

  “You have gone from a minor irritant to a full blown problem, boy,” he spat. A shout came from the far end of the clearing and Richard glanced out the corner of his eye to see Boss’s familiar weapons glinting in the firelight. The rest of his group had his back, meaning that he could indulge a bit. Richard carefully put his foot on the bottom step. Brendan narrowed his eyes at the challenge.

  “Ah!” Brendan screamed out. Richard glanced up, dodging to the right. The swipe missed him and the back blow hit his own cutlass, preventing the blow from opening up his stomach. Brendan used both hands, pushing against Richard’s sword to use all his force in order to make up for the lack of a solid hit.

  Richard slammed his foot into Brendan’s calf, forcing the man to stumble. He hadn’t hit it hard enough to break but he figured that he wouldn’t be favoring that side nearly as much as previously. He watched him stumble, trying to regain his balance without touching the pentagram drawn into the ground. Richard’s gaze turned wary.

  “You know, you always were a little shit. You did a piss poor job on power work and I never would have believed you were so good with your blade,” Brendan noted, standing straight and taking off his leather gloves. Beneath them, he wore a set of chainmail gloves.

  “But it’s in the past,” he continued, smiling as he reach back and touched the flames. Richard swore under his breath.

  “Shit,” Richard hissed, flexing his fingers and readying for any quick motion. Brendan threw in an overhand motion, releasing a fire ball in Richard’s direction. He ducked, eyes going wide. He knew that the chainmail gloves would be enough to protect Brendan’s hands, but how in the hell was he throwing balls of fire?

  “Did you – ?” Richard asked, panicking and racing backwards up the stairs. Now, more than ever, he was willing to set off the last explosion – if for no other reason than to cover a retreat.

  “Not yet. You see, that’s the thing. Blood sacrifice gives the powers one is perceived. So, when I slit your throat and drain you dry, I shall have full control over all flame,” he explained. Richard kept scrambling backward, avoiding another blast of fire with a
panic-stricken look. His mind was in more turmoil, twisting to try and figure out his next move.

  “Kill him! Slit his throat and toss his ass into the bowl. Take the power for your own!” a part of his mind screamed.

  “Justice – he must be taken alive. We have the ship, what more do we need? Don’t give this man an easy way out,” another part cried. Richard had just reached the top of the stairs. The sand was behind him and he could keep retreating. But if he could keep the top of the stairs, it would give him a slight advantage.

  “Come on, boy. Don’t tell me you’re afraid? Or is it you remember what these gloves can do?” Brendan asked with a cruel smile.

  “I am a little impartial to pain and burning. You have no idea how uncomfortable a fresh burn is on the skin,” Richard said. But there was no mirth in him and the flaming gauntlets reflected in his widened eyes. Just looking at them made his skin crawl and he steeled his body. “Oh, fuck it,” he murmured, rushing forward, arms tight to his side and his sword pointed at Brendan’s chest. He reacted in panic, grabbing onto the sword with both hands. Richard pushed against the top stair, trying to force the blade into his chest.

  But then the weight holding Richard up gave out and his back felt as if someone had lit a fire beneath it right before he was slammed into the stone steps. Pain rocketed through his body, escalating as he felt the stairs scrape beneath him a bit. And then, his hair was on fire. Richard reached out, grabbing onto anything in an attempt to elevate the pain.

  “You know, I’m feeling a little cruel,” Brendan said when the heat subsided. Richard immediately tried to find his sword, but he had lost it in the struggle and he had no idea where it was. Next thing he knew, Brendan had a fistful of hair and shoved his face straight into the bowl of blood.

  The smell alone was enough to burn his nostrils, make his body convulse and give him the urge to purge his stomach all at once. He grasped at the bowl, forcing his head up and gasped for air. As soon as he had a lungful of air, he was shoved right back into the bowl. Richard’s actions got sloppy, weak and then he fell limp, pretending to be dead. The grip on his hair lessened and he dropped from the bowl. At his first chance, Richard rolled to his back, kicking Brendan in the same leg that he had hit earlier. He immediately rolled to his right and felt something drop onto his chest. A quick glance upward told him that Spark had just delivered the Golden Talon to him. He reached for the hilt and brought it up just in time to block the weight of another sword crashing down on him. The blow landed on his gut and choked back his breakfast, reaching blindly for one of his pistols. His fingers closed around the grip and slammed it into Brendan’s leg.