by Andy Coffey
Chapter 31 – Prepare to be boarded
‘Are you sure there’s enough room in there?’ Aiden said to Archie, as he and some volunteers packed a large bin with the remains of Brother Vegetable Jalfrezi-Basmathi Rice’s forces.
‘Oh, this lot won’t be here long,’ Archie replied. ‘As soon as the rats get a sniff these bins will be empty quicker than you can say crispy pork bellies.’
The Companionship still felt weary after the exertions of the previous evening. Sleep didn’t come easy to most, perhaps due to the adrenalin rush provided by the battle, but also perhaps because of the realisation that their journey may hold further perils. Thankfully the sun was out and the River Dee flowed peacefully by, unaware of the scene of chaos and destruction that took place on its banks only a few hours earlier.
‘How long to Chester from here?’ Grundi asked Oldfart, as they loaded their travelling bags into Ethel.
‘Oh, I’d say about another two hours, no more than that. Assuming we don’t get any interruptions.’
‘It would seem that Blacktie means to stop us from entering the tournament,’ Olaf said, as he sharpened his sword on a nearby rock. ‘I think it’s a real possibility there’ll be other “interruptions” ahead.’
‘Of that I have little doubt, my friend,’ Smid said. ‘Assuming that we make it down the river intact, there’s also the small job of getting into the city.’
‘Let’s just cross one bridge at a time for now,’ Oldfart advised. ‘I’ll just be praying to the gods that our path is clear.’
‘Well I say, bring them on,’ Agnar said, brandishing his hammer. ‘If it’s a fight Blacktie wants, then by Odin’s bristling beard and farty backside let’s give it to him.’
Charles was sitting on a small bench outside the pub, checking his trumpet for damage. Cliff was sat next to him, his body language portraying his protectiveness towards the old sheep. The events of last night had made him realise that although his uncle’s spirit was still strong, he was indeed getting on in years, and Cliff’s concern was palpable in his face.
‘Did you too get any sleep?’ Mr Kneepatcher asked, emerging from the pub with a glass of wine in his hand.
‘Oh, I was far too excited for sleep… well at least for the first five minutes of lying down and then I slept like a log,’ Charles said.
‘Not so much, really,’ said Cliff. ‘I might try and get a quick sheep-nap when we’re sailing.’
The rest of the Companionship had started to get all their belongings together in readiness to set sail. Although last night’s experiences were still the main topic of conversation, what was going to happen next was also being hotly discussed. ‘So, the troops are to advance on Chester this evening?’ Mara asked Vindy, as she and Roisin accompanied the King and Queen to the quayside, along with the equally fatigued Harold and Greta.
‘They are, but we need our arrival at the city gates to be as incident-free as possible. So it makes eminent sense for Saffy and General Beef Madras-Wholegrain Rice to take up positions close enough to the city to launch an attack, yet remain out of sight until such time as they are needed. Although I’m really hoping it doesn’t come to that.’
‘Have you asked Saffy to get word to our Russian friends?’ Tikky enquired.
‘I believe he contacted the Stroganoffs as soon as we left,’ Vindy said. ‘They’ve been completely briefed and have said they will give us whatever support we need. Tsar Beef Stroganoff-Sour Cream has no love for Blacktie, particularly after he made them reduce the size of their portions in restaurants and drop their prices. That was a bad move on the Baron’s part; you really don’t want to go upsetting the Russians.’
As Ethel was readied to sail, a small contingent of pigs stood by to wish them farewell. ‘I really hope that last night’s fracas hasn’t put you off returning to my fine establishment,’ Archie said.
‘I can honestly say that when this is all over we will come back and complete the acoustic set,’ Oldfart said. ‘And we really should pay towards some of the damage… particularly the damage caused by Grundi’s wind.’
‘Nonsense!’ Archie exclaimed. ‘I reckon if he hadn’t taken that course of action we’d have all have been goners.’
Smid and Crusher embraced warmly, and their heartening reunion had provided an emotional uplift for everyone. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you, Daddy Smid?’
‘I’m sorry, Crusher. As much as I would be proud to have you at my side, I feel the next stage of our trip is one the Companionship must make alone. But try not to worry too much; we’ll be back soon, Odin willing.’
As Ethel moved gracefully down the river and around a bend, the waving pigs disappeared from sight. Grundi had decided to take it upon himself to remain on lookout at the prow, his spiked ball and chain at his side. ‘You know, where I’m from I’ve had a few hairy nights mixing with bands, but I can safely say that last night was on a different level,’ Aiden said,
Grundi smiled and slapped Aiden’s back. ‘Well, it was a little unusual for us as well. We’ve had a couple of situations in the past, don’t get me wrong. I remember one gig we played in Wrexham when we were called in as a last minute replacement for an English Folk band, at the local old people’s home.’
‘That must have been an interesting audience.’
‘Interesting isn’t a word I’d use. Vicious is more like it. They started to pelt us with vegetables as soon as we started playing. Poor old Agnar got hit with a rotten tomato, right on his nose. It just exploded all over his face. Smid had lettuce leaves between the strings and frets of his bass guitar, Olaf got a piece of broccoli in the eye, and I had a nasty altercation with a particularly large turnip. If I hadn’t been holding my guitar in the right place it could have been very painful, and could have also severely affected my chances of becoming a father in the future, if you get my meaning.’
‘But you managed to escape relatively unscathed?’ Aiden said, smiling.
‘Only when we promised that we’d stop playing!’ I don’t think we’ve ever stripped down the equipment so fast. They even chased after us on Zimmer frames as we were leaving. And don’t be fooled, they can’t half move those things when they’ve got a mind. I had this one old lady trying to stab me in the bottom with a carrot. She really seemed to be enjoying it!’
They laughed heartily together, which provided an immediate antidote for the ever-encroaching tension. ‘Mind you, it’s one thing having food thrown at you, but it’s another thing entirely when it’s trying to kill you,’ Grundi added.
‘Quite,’ Aiden agreed.
In the distance the skies began to darken. White, billowy clouds were being bullied out of the way by grey, lumbering monsters. Flashes illuminated the sky near the horizon, and the ground was occasionally strafed by jagged forks of lightning. ‘It looks like we’re headed straight into that storm,’ Aiden said to Grundi.
‘Yes, I would say we’ll hit it in about half an hour. We’d better make sure all the equipment is safely under cover.’
Olaf came and joined them on the prow. ‘We’re headed straight for that storm,’ Aiden said to him.
‘I think we’re headed into more than one storm,’ Olaf observed, as he squinted into the distance. ‘There’s a boat up ahead.’
Aiden tried to focus at the distant object in the ever-darkening light. He could just about make out the shape of a large craft, with what appeared to be black sails hanging off its tall masts. ‘Any idea what kind of boat that is?’ he asked Olaf.
‘Difficult to tell at this range,’ Olaf replied. ‘I’ll fetch the spyglass.’
Olaf rummaged through one of the Hessian sacks below deck and came back with a small, brass telescope. He put it to his right eye and pointed it in the direction of the boat ahead, adjusting the length of the tube until it was in focus. ‘It looks like we’re about to encounter an “interruption”,’ he said, calmly removing the small telescope from his eye. ‘It’s a pirate ship.’
‘A pira
te ship on the River Dee?’ Oldfart said, overhearing the conversation. ‘Do you mind if I have a look?’
‘Be my guest,’ Olaf said, handing the telescope to Oldfart.
As Oldfart peered through the spyglass, he realised that Olaf’s identification was correct… and worse. ‘Yes, it’s a pirate ship alright, and unfortunately I recognise the flag it’s flying. The only reason that vessel could have for being in these waters is that it’s been sent here by Blacktie.’
Grundi gave a sharp intake of breath and Aiden pulled out his pocket knife. The rest of the Companionship had begun to congregate around Ethel’s prow. ‘Is there a problem?’ Roisin asked
‘It looks like we’re about to encounter the Tan-Y-Lan Tuffies,’ Oldfart replied. ‘And unless they’ve had a miraculous personality change, we’re in trouble.’
‘Pirates! The mood I’m in, I’ll take them on by myself,’ Agnar snarled, moving protectively in front of Roisin.
‘Agnar’s right,’ said Grundi. ‘We’re more than a match for some run-of-the-mill scurvy sea dogs.’
‘These are not “run-of-the-mill” pirates, though,’ Oldfart advised. ‘The Tan-Y-Lan Tuffies are the most ruthless, maniacal, soulless, merciless, violent, and smelly individuals you will ever meet. Other pirates avoid them like the plague. A competition was started on the Welsh coast a few years back, called the “Nastiest, Scariest, Most Obnoxious, Least Likely to Take Home to Meet Your Mother, Pirate Gang of the Year”, and that lot have won it hands down every year.’
‘I would have expected them to have some stiff competition in that neck of the woods,’ Agnar observed.
‘Yes, you would. In the first year they were up against Captain Bedlam and his Bad-Assed Buccaneers.’
‘I’ve heard of them,’ said Smid. ‘Aren’t they the bunch that don’t wear shoes and sharpen their toenails?’
‘Well, they were,’ Oldfart replied, ‘but in the final event of the 1984 competition, The Tuffies challenged them to an unarmed bare-fist fight.
‘What happened?’ Olaf asked.
‘Well Captain Bedlam and his crew agreed and they all met at the Colwyn Bay quayside at dawn. A huge crowd had gathered to watch as Bedlam and his Buccaneers roared their battle cry, spat tobacco indiscriminately and brandished their newly-sharpened toenails.’
‘It must have been quite a fight,’ Aiden said.
‘Not really,’ Oldfart replied, with a shrug. ‘The Tuffies simply shot them all. As Taffy Tuffy said to the competition judge afterwards, “I never mentioned anything about US being unarmed”.’
As the pirate ship drew nearer, the sound of maniacal laughter and howling could clearly be heard. At the prow of the ship, a man with a very big hat was waving a cutlass, shouting about blood, entrails and ears being skewered. Behind him, the rest of the Tan-Y-Lan Tuffies could be seen readying ropes, and firing the occasional shot.
‘They’re getting ready to board,’ Olaf said. ‘I suggest you grab whatever weapons you can, but stay behind us.’
‘I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, Roisin,’ Agnar said, pushing her behind him… and then smiling as she grabbed his hand.
Mr Kneepatcher pushed through to the front and stood next to Olaf. ‘I’m standing with you,’ he said, brandishing his knotted battle cravat. ‘I don’t care how big their weapons are, if they get this baby between their legs they’re going down.’
As the Tan-Y-Lan Tuffies’ ship drew closer, the roaring, swearing, growling and nose-picking increased proportionately. They were ready to board Ethel and it didn’t look as if it was going to be pretty.
‘Prepare to be boarded and prepare for battle!’ shouted Taffy Tuffy, waving his cutlass erratically, as the pirate ship came alongside.
Then, as Aiden and Oldfart shared a silent nod, Oldfart started to laugh loudly.
‘I don’t know what you’re laughing for, you old codger,’ Taffy shouted, ‘Me and the boyos here are going to make mincemeat out of you lot… and we’ve got some nice potatoes to go with it!’
‘Ha!’ Oldfart laughed again. ‘I was led to believe that the Tan-Y-Lan Tuffies were real men.’
‘What are you babbling about farty pants?!’ Taffy shouted ‘We are real men… well, apart from Bethan over there,’ he added, pointing to a bearded pirate in a rather fetching floral dress, ‘but she’s having the operation soon.’
‘Then surely you know that real men no longer solve their differences in battle. Why, battle is purely for children, isn’t that right, lads?’ Oldfart said, urging Sacred Wind to join him in more laughter. ‘I’m really surprised that men of your reputation haven’t heard this news before.’
‘Er, no, it’s the first we’ve heard about it,’ Taffy said, scratching his head beneath his huge, black hat.
‘Please, do not think we make fun of you because of your ignorance in this matter,’ Oldfart continued. ‘We would never wish to cast aspersions of stupidity in your direction. For is it not said that the Tan-Y-Lan Tuffies are known as the ‘thinking man’s pirates’?’
‘Are we?’ Taffy said, raising his very bushy eyebrows and turning to his men with a questioning look, only to be met with shrugs and coughs.
‘Of course you are,’ Oldfart continued. ‘Why, only last week I read that you are renowned for your perniciousness, unscrupulousness, and imbecility. That must have been high praise indeed.’
‘Oh, well, when you put it like that, I guess that’ll be right. We is indeed the ‘thinking man’s pirates’,’ Taffy said, nodding, with his gesture mimicked by the rest of his men… and Bethan.
‘And, as the thinking man’s pirates, I would fully expect you to wish to engage us in a contest that befits your status.’
‘And what contest would this be that would will allow us to settle our differences like real men?’ Taffy asked.
‘Charades!’ Oldfart announced, lifting his arms in the air.
Taffy Tuffy scratched under his armpits and smelled his fingers. ‘Charades, eh? Well, that seems fair enough. What do you think, lads… and Bethan?’ he said, turning to his crew, to be greeted by initial surprise and then nods.
‘I warn you now, though,’ Taffy added, ‘that Taffy, Taffy, Taffy, Taffy, Aled, Taffy and Ivor here won a charades competition only recently in our local night club, The Pirate’s Privates. Isn’t that right, boyos?’
‘Aye!’ proclaimed Taffy, Taffy, Taffy, Taffy, Aled, Taffy and Ivor.’
‘In which case, I would foresee this forthcoming contest as one that will go down in history and be talked about with reverence by all who hear the tale!’ Oldfart shouted. ‘Can I suggest we moor our ships on the left bank, as we see it, and alight to that pleasant-looking pasture?’
As both the Companionship and the Tuffies moored their ships, Olaf grabbed Oldfart by the arm. ‘Have you gone completely mad, you old weasel?’
‘Not at all, my friend,’ he replied, with a smile. ‘I believe I’m buying us some time.’
‘For what?’ Olaf asked.
‘Something unexpected.’