Black White and Shades of Greyy

by ElissaBeth Frear

  When the call would go out for battle stations she would press her body flat against the mast hiding behind its bulk. As the ship would draw near to its target she would unleash a volley of flaming arrows. She was quickly dubbed the "secret weapon" by crew and her Captain.

  The ‘secret weapon’ would fly arrows where normal cannons could not reach. Typically the pirates would attack larger ships. The smaller faster carrack would maneuver into position, hiding the elf, and tossing out cannon fire in a half hearted attempt to look intimidating. When the enemy would retaliate the smaller cannon fire would be replaced by opening hatches for much larger guns that would fire longer distance with larger ammunition.

  By the time surprise was fully set in the call of “Fire on Deck” would echo across the water as a barrage of flaming arrows would be seen soaring through the sky toward the sails. At night the blazing launch would strike the fear of the gods into the hearts of sailors on both crews. No sailor wants a fire aboard. By the time the fires were extinguished the battle would be over, the crew taken prisoner or set adrift and the cargo stowed or transferred.

  Each battle won and ship taken earned Greyylene a place of respect. She had garnered a loyal following of fellow Pirates and together they formed a small elite team of ruthless cutthroats. Quickly she was earning a reputation of being as wicked as she was beautiful and her Siren charms had been honed into a fine instrument of destruction.

  Her skills in battle as well as the ability to rally the deck crew to a common cause earned her promotions in rank with Captain Redgrave. Serving as second mate gave her the authority to be unspeakably ruthless in ports of call, all in the name of the “Terror of the Seas”. The plunder she found and the secrets she extracted from unsuspecting naval officers proved useful to the Captain, if not marginally unsettling at the ease in which she gained the trust of men.

  With the rise of Pirate activity and the threat of the deadly Elf couple most of the port towns were housing more Guards. Assuming that heightened presence of Empirical Authority would deter further violence town officials was eager to house the colorful Guardians of the Crown. In theory the idea was sound, in practice it became a game to the outlaws.

  Chapter 42

  Far across the turbulent seas and tortured lands of Men on the small island that was once called Home to Greyylene and her Parents another glorious day full of life and song spread its arms to embrace the sky. Snug in the home she was raised and out of the way of prying eyes and plundering pirates Amadia made her way through life abandoned by her family.

  The void left in her heart after her parents left plunged the Elf Maiden into a dark time many thought she would never recover. Her days flowed by in a fluid motion of time and space blurring together. She became ambivalent of things that had once carried a great deal of interest and joy. Her heart broke at the thought of what may have happened to her sister. Bitter tears fell at the thought of her parents leaving without her.

  Every so often a glimmer of peace would shine through her despair as she would fall asleep under a star lit sky thinking of Greyylene and where she may be. Others were certain Amadia's sister was long dead, but deep in her core she knew that was not the case. A soft glow often broke into her reverie and stole her back to a time when they were together. In the moments when she could grasp the vision of her family it was possible for the soft spoken child be able to accomplish the simple tasks she set for herself.

  Chapter 43

  Others in the village tried to assist in the adjustment to being alone forcing her to interact with neighbors and friends. The desire was not available but her instincts said it was necessary, as she moved about her life as if in a fog.

  She continued to sew beautiful clothing for other village women. Her skill was the envy of Elf communities spreading across mountains and plains far from the quiet little island.

  She continued to assist in community meals and her garden was the pride of the Island. Surrounded by so much beauty and the love of her people she was aloof and quietly drowning in her sorrow.

  The village Elders felt it necessary that she take a mate, but their law dictated that her Father arrange a match for her. With his absence they took on themselves to select appropriate suitors to send her way.

  Most of the men who would call on Amadia were vastly intimidated by her dark presence. Her deep mood was more than most could handle. The deep loss she felt was difficult to fill and even those who knew her well were unable to fully grasp the weight that strangled her heart making it impossible to find joy.

  The search for a suitor took an unexpected turn when an unassuming shadow filled her door offering a small basket of food and drink. The tall quiet male also had known great sorrow and loss. His first wife and their only child had been lost in childbirth. He also knew that the simple gesture would be heard far more clearly than any word he could offer.

  When he turned to go without making an offer to stay she was puzzled but allowed him to go. Her interest was piqued and her curiosity found a new light in the need to see him again. He was easy to find in such a small community and when she discovered his story matched hers a spark of comfort and familiarity fell into place.

  They spent hours each day together not speaking but basking in the warmth and comfort of one another. With passing days and weeks they slowly began to find words to fill the voids, expressing feelings and thoughts allowing for a healing of their souls in a united bond. Soon their thoughts became dreams and plans.

  Amadia and Amathar, who lived up to his name as a Beautiful Friend, continued about their daily tasks and duties within the Village. They stole every moment to be near attempting to be quiet about the growing affection that blossomed in their hearts, but the eyes of all the neighbors were firmly planted on the two wounded souls that were finally beginning to see Spring.

  It was with a joyous celebration that they announced their engagement to be joined as everlasting mates.

  Chapter 44

  It had often been rumored that some ships that were lost at sea were not sunk but taken by Pirates. When former merchant or battle ships would harbor for shore leave or restocking were the rumors confirmed. Some of the overtaken vessels would simply fly new colors and have a new name scrawled over the old one, some were repainted all together.

  Crews with new commanders were still recognized in old watering holes and pubs that had been frequented. Some families who had not seen each other for months had been reunited when the victim vessel was "liberated" by Pirates. As a condition for their service the men would be offered the chance to see their wives, girlfriends or mistresses depending on whom they wanted to see more.

  Once a ship was commandeered if it was in good condition and desired by any of the invading crew with high rank the Pirate would simply take command. Most often the former captain would be killed outright along with any others who were loyal to him. Once the vessel was securely set as Pirate property a new commander would be assigned. Commands would be given to a favored officer and a replacement crew would be left aboard, colors would be changed and a new name given to the overtaken vessel.

  If more than one wanted any given ship lots would be tossed to see who would take the command. If the one requesting won the toss they had their pick of crew to start. Several times Greyy was chosen to be part of a new crew, thus hopping her from ship to ship. Each captain she served would teach her more efficient and better ways of being not only a sailor but a leader.

  Moving around in ranks within the clan of the Crimson Dagger Pirates she earned respect from most of the other sailors. More and more she was given tasks with greater authority often named as First Mate. Repeatedly she proved her value in combat and skills of diplomacy and in so doing squelching many on board misunderstandings with minimal bloodshed. Many things that were impossible to teach, she knew naturally.

  Often she would fall back to lessons learned growing up in her small village. Riding the treetops to see further out over the horizon gave her a
steady balance and keen vision for noticing small oddities at great distances. Ship rigging knots came simply to her, most were variations of what she used to secure twine in hammocks.

  Wrestling large land animals helped prepare her for the brutes on board as well as in the sea. Those who knew her were well aware not to mess with the fire brand; those who were new to her wiles found painful lessons learned staring up at the sky or the bottom of her boot. Her tenacity and charisma earned her a voice in the crews on which she served.

  Chapter 45

  After one surprisingly successful raid on a corvette Greyy finally earned her right to toss for the command of the three mast sloop of war. It was brightly colored with the banner of the Navy firmly nailed to the main mast.

  When it came time to gather her crew those who volunteered to join her was so high in numbers several had to be left off her roster. She had no idea that any command she had would have so many men pawing to serve as crew. It was obvious they wanted to serve with her out of respect and loyalty rather than the cliché of being with a Female Captain. Those who were chosen would become a crew full of individuals who were fierce in their service to their Captain.

  Once she took her ship and her crew it was the task to name and set the structure of command. Her first mate was Mr. Donny Porter; the arms master Kegan the Mad. She named her perky but sea worn corvette the “Wailing Siren”. The first order of new business was to run the "Wailing Siren" through her paces, and a great pace was set before Captain Greyylene walked to the bow with a broad smile and proud gait.

  The greatest liability to her as Captain was the reckless curiosity inherent with her race. The courses she chose were by closing her eyes and pointing to a section of the map. As pirates the crews were not given to exploration unless it meant plunder and loot.

  The cold heart that was quickly replacing her once caring demeanor began to sway more and more to the “Pirate Ways”, but the curiosity remained firmly planted giving room for glimmers of kindness. Those glimmers of light often were overshadowed by the necessity of keeping the crew satisfied and paid. It was the bloodlust of those who trained her that gave the cruel edge and ruthless manner in her “exploration” of new lands.

  Elf cunning and Pirate cruelty gave Captain Greyy an edge. Her abilities to know what the seas and skies were thinking proved invaluable in tracking other ships, and out maneuvering storms.

  Her crew became very wealthy in short order. Their plundering tactics, that she tried to keep secret, spread like wild fire through the rest of their Pirate fleet. On the mainland ports word of her steel nerve and ruthless chill would turn hardened sailors into quivering idiots. When her colors would fly the pathetic victim ships would immediately surrender or abandon their vessels. Most of the ships she crossed would be sunk in a grand display of fire and billowing smoke, but occasionally there would be ones worthy of towing back to Pirate lands.

  When the "Wailing Siren" would come to Port Redgrave there was always a call for celebration. She rarely returned without some fantastic tale of conquest and adventure. Her crew was notorious in their ability to loot without having anything but fine Ale to show for the effort, but none of the others ever questioned where her crew got their pay or desire to remain with her. When she brought back another ship as the "evidence" of their exploits it would satisfy the "code" of adding to the coffers.

  Chapter 46

  Winter fell like a soft blanket across the world of Men. The blood thirsty Elf couple continued to rule the land with violence and heartache. Each town they entered fed their hatred for Humans and the need for something “bigger” to accomplish. The wanted signs they found would become kindling for their evening fire, and towns that held any military presence became an extra challenge. Their killing spree remained with the eldest in the households, but their ravaging ridicule of the military became their play time.

  Barracks located in side alleys of the larger towns made for wonderful sport to the malicious couple. They would sneak in between shifts and steal as many uniforms and weapons as possible. When they left the barracks only the slight outline of a footprint could be seen, and that became their signature.

  The thieving raid would alter their time schedule only slightly. Collecting the uniforms and stowing them in a slightly shadowed overhang they would continue on their mission. It became the needed comic relief in their dark project to return to the uniforms after the murder. Piling the bright colorful clothing in a neat mound at the center of town they would set the uniforms ablaze. The smoke and fire would create chaos and mayhem covering their escape. Then they would sit outside the city limits and watch the turmoil at their feet.

  Authorities grew tired of being embarrassed and out classed by a couple of renegade Elves. The tactic of posting their images had backfired; mistrust and fear ruled the streets and respect for a Military presence had become a joke. Back in the Royal City plans were being devised to bring an end to the reign of terror brought on by the wanton Elf presence. A council had been called for the top military officials to come and bring their best ideas and incentives for drawing out the outlaws and including the general population in retaking order.

  Chapter 47

  Several months passed and the weather turned cold since the Monk had been aboard the Pirate's ship. He was confident in the knowledge that he had made an impression on his selected audience.

  His desire to track the Other Audience had taken him through several towns and villages as they cleaned the aftermath of the night visitors. With each town he would offer the grieving family as much aid and comfort he was able before continuing his travels. As he left he would offer a supplication on behalf of the devastated community and set a stone at its boundary as a marker of their sorrow.

  Strolling through a quiet snow draped town Sir Gilead released quiet prayers of blessing and protection on homes lining the main street. The amulet hanging from his neck shone with a soft blue haze. A light melody keeping time with his footfalls announced his presence as he past.

  Without warning his song ended and his footsteps took on urgency. The amulet began to change colors giving evidence to something wicked in the wind. Passing a side street he stopped and peered into the dark shadows as if looking for someone. A moment later he turned and walked back the way he had come, the amulet had taken a sinister red glow as he returned the way he had come.

  The Elf couple was certain that the Monk did not see them, but his demeanor suggested otherwise. They waited until he had vanished into the night before moving from their hiding place. Silently they conferred with one another on the path to take. Finally it was decided to travel the opposite direction from the Monk. They were determined to carry out the sinister plan of the evening but had no intention of running into him again.

  The snow began to fall again masking the intentions of the strangers in a blanket of white. When the travesty had been completed the Couple returned to their makeshift camp. The snow had erased any evidence of their presence, yet they had not gone unnoticed.

  Sir Gilead on one side of town wept in mourning of the great loss to the town. Back in the hidden camp a soft sob broke the snow covered silence. High in a tree peering out over all the events of the night a set of deep piercing lavender eyes shone in the moonlight.

  Chapter 48

  It had been almost three years since her grand adventure began. Captain Greyylene peered thoughtfully over the rails as her mind played back the events she had witnessed, the people she met and the world she had seen. The time was closing quickly for her to celebrate another birthday. She would be one hundred and three years according to the calculations of Men, yet she looked to be in her mid twenties, barely older than her newly appointed Navigator.

  Henry Frost, a tall sip of whisky with the spirit to match, was the youngest crewmate and the last that Greyy had appointed before taking the “Wailing Siren”. His sense of direction was unparalleled. He could find his way to any part of the map and back again without so much as a pause o
r second glance. His bag of tools confounded his new Captain but he was more than happy to show her how each item was used. He proved to be a gracious teacher not willing to embarrass her in front of the other crew, but quietly demonstrating each instrument with skill and grace far beyond his age.

  Chapter 49

  Greyy was a capable Captain and her crew was violently loyal to her. Her aggressive techniques in combat had made them all quite prosperous. They were all eager to continue her rule on board, yet were just as eager for her to show her generous light hearted manners. Most of the men on board saw her as Captain, but occasionally a foolhardy new comer would discover her female curves. Often the discovery would end badly for the poor fool, for she was quick as a flick to ferocious temper and back to charming smile and saucy wink.

  Quiet times on the ship were used to ensure the ship was in proper working order as well as having those quiet moments to sleep, do chores, or challenge other crewmates in games of chance and skill. Normally the Captain chose this time to retire to her quarters. Every so often she would steal a moment to inspect the decks for damage or take inventory of supplies.

  As she strolled along the deck, kicking soles of sleeping sailors, she heard a low whistle that caught her attention.

  “Capt’n, tis a good a time as any to challenge ye to a test o skills.” Henry said barely peeking out from under his cap. His voice had a marvelous deep resonance and a slow drawl. The Captain gave a slight grin as she answered.

  “A challenge ye say? What sort have ye in mind?”

  “Race ye up da ropes n shoot the bullseye back o de poop deck.” He said slowly rising to greet her.

  The slow smile grew as it crossed her lips. With the challenge the rest of the crew gathered around them.

  The challenge was set and the contestants got set to race across the boards to the main sail to climb the ropes up the sails to the first yard arm. The rules were simple; first one to the yard arm to fire at the target on the back of the poop deck and hit it would win the challenge. This was not the first time Henry had made the challenge to another crewmate, but it was the first time any had challenged the Captain.