Black White and Shades of Greyy

by ElissaBeth Frear

  “Damn Pirates!” Bishop muttered to himself.

  A light knock at the chamber door interrupted the brooding rant but not the sullied mood. His temper was not soothed any by his guest. Lieutenant Horatio Washburn entered with a saunter and a smirk itching to be asked what was on his mind. He stood just inside the door waiting none too patiently for permission to enter and speak.

  “What!” Captain Bishop demanded.

  “Sir, I have an idea of how we can regain some ground that was lost to Greyylene and that scurvy crew of cutthroats! There is a report from Port Bistrot and New Hope of a new brew that is in need of becoming outlawed!” Washburn said with an excited energy.

  “Go on.” Bishop said intrigued.

  The two men sat in the office for several hours as Horatio explained the rumors he had garnered of the Cradle Rock Ale and the story of how it came about. His source in Port Bistrot had intercepted a pigeon belonging to Captain Greyylene sent to her spy in the town. She sent word telling of the hazard of the Ale and warning her crewman not to go anywhere near the new brew. He was also instructed that if any was sighted he was to destroy it immediately without allowing any to touch his skin at the risk of being infected with the insanity.

  There was a renewed energy at the prospects of regaining ground lost by the last confrontation with the Pirates. James Bishop was beginning to relax a bit and develop a new plan when a sharp knock followed by the door flying open announced the arrival of a hooded figure breaking the hushed tones.

  Removing his hood and settling uninvited into a chair next to Lieutenant Washburn the Monk folded his arms across his chest and stretched his feet out far in front of him. The pendant around his neck glowed a soft teal blue and his smile was almost infectious if it weren’t for the fact he was insufferably irritating with his grand entrance. Sir Gilead sat with the silly grin staring back and forth between the two men until he decided they were uncomfortable enough for him to speak.

  “Gentlemen, it would seem you have a bit of a problem.” he began. “It has come to the attention of this fair Monk’s ear that you, James Bishop, are in need of some redemption.” he said pointing to Bishop and garnering a steady glare in exchange. “The new Commander of the Military establishment is a buffoon, at best. It would be much better for him to return to service behind a desk and allow those who are familiar with battle strategy to do their tasks as they were trained to do.”

  “From your mouth to the Emperor’s ear….” James muttered.

  “Oh, fear not, sir. That has already been stated. And I will say that the little sniveling idiot who had been in charge was none too happy to hear me say it!” Sir Gilead said with a bit of a smug chuckle.

  Reaching into the folds of his robe the Monk pulled out a small pouch and carefully opened it. The action caused his pendant to immediately turn a sinister crimson. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning the pouch inside out careful not to directly touch the contents. The two naval officers watched in puzzled curiosity as a smooth dark stone was revealed.

  “This, sirs, is Cradle Rock.” he said in a matter of fact tone. “It is highly volatile, contagious and brings about an insanity that at present has no cure. This is the stone that a few of the Pirates have used to make the new brew you were just discussing. It is a menace and will become a horrible liability to the Crown if it is not contained immediately!” He stated with emphasis.

  Standing and placing the pouch on the desk of the Captain the Monk turned and started to walk out of the room. Pausing a moment to look back with a pleased expression he threw out one more bit of information that brought James and Horatio to their feet.

  “Oh and let it be known, it is Captain Greyylene who is trying to save your Empire from this plague. It is Not the Militia!” and with that he strode out and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 139

  Staring at the innocent looking menace they were interrupted again with a polite knock and the presence of a runner holding an urgent message for James Bishop.

  “I’m Captain James Bishop.” he stated reluctantly. The runner handed his parchment and retreated with a startled nod at the stone on the desk.

  Breaking the sealed parchment with surprisingly steady hands the contents revealed made the Captain’s face grow pale. The “victory” at the expense of the Royal Flagship was paramount to treason, and it was going to be the fault of someone involved. A trial was to be held in two days before the Royal Courts and the presence of Captain James Bishop and any of his officers was “strongly requested”.

  “Ready the horses we have two days’ ride to appear before the Royal Court. Make sure to bring your own reports as a deck officer. We will need all the information as accurately as possible.” he said to Horatio with a huff. “It would be so much easier with the ship, but those Damned Pirates had to blast a hole right through the hull and slash the mainsails clean to hell.”

  Unaccustomed to being nervous for any reason, James used the excuse of travel to organize the events of the battle in his mind. His reports were still somewhat neatly stacked on the desk and almost legible despite the frustrated scrawling from the recollecting of events. Packing the reports into a satchel he again went over all that was done and written in his mind so as to keep facts straight and without emotion.

  Idle curiosity brought his fingers across a parchment from the desk of Commander Horace Flintlock. His report would have to include the words from his commanding officer, regardless of the accuracy given by Flintlock. Bishop was never one given to padding the truth and the field report from the Commander that he now held gave a sour taste in his mouth.

  Riding out of the Navy headquarters on the road to the Empirical Courts the small convoy of sailors took a wry pleasure in being land bound and on horseback. The trip was not a complete waste of time, however. Passing quickly through a small coastal village a notice posted on the town gate caught the eye of Lieutenant Roland White. Snatching quickly as they passed he tucked the rough parchment safely in his inside jacket pocket to examine at length at the next way station.

  The road they took was more of a path cut through forests and glades rather than official high ways most often associated with the Emperor. It was an easy meandering passage used by merchants, peasants, guards and highway men with many places fit for ambush or respite. The trees provided shelter from weather and the soft earth was padded with leaves and clay offering just enough support for horses not to falter and rain not to wash the path into deep furrows and ruts.

  They stopped for the night at a guard post between towns to water the horses and give aching backs and legs a much needed rest. While the men gathered at a pub for a bit of refreshing Roland took the opportunity to examine the parchment he acquired from the sign post. Reading the paper he chuckled to himself as he passed it on to Bishop and Washburn.

  “Well, sir, it would appear the Pirates are up for some friendly sport!” he said with a mischievous grin.

  Taking the note Washburn quickly read a general invitation to the annual Pirate Regatta. The three day event hosted by Kerrs Redgrave would begin at the Way Farers Inn and end at Port Redgrave. A series of obstacles would prove the worth of the captain and crew of each in attendance. There was no promise of a prize, but it was well known that any loot obtained in the race would be kept by the crew that obtained it. There would also be a gathering of the contestants to celebrate the winners and console the losers after the event. Cheating was expressly encouraged!

  “One problem at a time, Lieutenant...” Bishop said with a grin. “Let’s get through this errand first, how about it?” The whole mood changed after he read that note. Tucking it into his pocket Bishop spent the rest of the trip devising a plan to gain information and possibly make some arrests, if not secure the facts concerning this new Cradle Rock Ale that was beginning to make its rounds. He was hopeful that this would be his chance to make a positive impression on his superiors and possibly erase the mistakes of the la
st battle.

  Chapter 140

  Riding into the Royal city always took James Bishop’s breath away; no matter how many times he visited the grandeur was amazing. Sloping countryside dotted with farms and small ranches littered the valley protected by the walls of the city. The lush forests that shielded the borders hid a fresh river teeming with fish that ran through the North end within the limits of the thriving metropolis. And the soft fields of wheat and cotton danced in the breeze welcoming all travelers to the fair city.

  All the roads were well manicured and highly kept making the way easy and pleasant for a horse, pedestrian or carriage. As the small party rode through the farming village outside the walls friendly smiles and greetings met them proving the power of wealth and comfort on a society. These citizens knew the glory of peace and prosperity, and it was a blatant contrast to the outposts merely a hill away from this grand city. It was the hope of most diplomats as well as the Emperor that this peace would remain for a very long time.

  Once inside, the cobbled streets proved the advanced glory of the Capital City. The houses and markets stood as a testament to the impeccable opulence of the Emperor. He would settle for nothing less than lavish abundance and worked hard to have his city reflect that. The smooth stones under the horse’s hooves sent a staccato clip echoing through the narrow alleyways announcing the presence of the ranking officers. Houses with clean milk paint colors and bright flower boxes neatly trimmed and manicured stood as glowing reminder of the relaxed pace of peace.

  Arriving at the Empire Tavern’s vast stables the convoy of sailors turned the reigns of their horses to the stable master to tend. Eager to wash the dust from the two days on the back of a smelly horse the men made their way to the main building. James Bishop led the party into the dimly lit foyer followed by Washburn and White. They blinked several times as their eyes adjusted to the change in lighting glancing around the space impressed by its simple elegance. Immediately the short rotund inn keeper scurried over to greet his new guests.

  The keeper was dressed in the local garb of short trouser and loose fitting shirt that had sleeves rolled up past his elbows and a short black vest that was left unbuttoned. His stockings were a crisp white with shoes neatly polished but with the distinct look of daily use. An apron tied around his waist was used but neat and clean, and his hair was a salt and pepper mix tied in a neat pony tail secured at the base of his neck with a black ribbon. The hands that welcomed the convoy were thick and well use to work but warm and inviting. His voice was a deep resonating baritone full of confidence and a jolly chuckle that spread to his eyes lighting his entire face.

  “And a Hearty welcome, friends!” the inn keeper said as he clasped Bishop’s’ hand in both of his bear paws and shaking vigorously in the friendly greeting of the town.

  “Let me get you settled and we’ll see to your supper. I am most confident you are hungry, ridin always does that, let me tell ya.” he continued. Without pausing for any answers he turned and bellowed for the bar maid to escort the new visitors to rooms.

  Pausing in front of Bishop and the Inn Keeper the little bar maid, barely 16 years in age curtsied to the men careful to keep her head lowered. Her flowing blonde locks bobbed around her shoulders as she moved framing the soft gentle features of her face in tendrils making her look almost like a pixie. Dancing blue eyes veiled in thick lashes laughed at the sheer joy of being alive, and the crisp lavender dress hugging the curves of her almost womanly form hinted at the childlike exuberance shadowed with adult responsibility of her age and station. Her feet were clad in shoes matching her dress and laced with a large ribbon tied in a bow that threatened to trip her at the first misstep. She moved with a practiced grace that teased at a training saved for the more wealthy section of society.

  Chapter 141

  Leading the men to their rooms chattering as she meandered through the halls the little bar maid became a wealth of information, some of which was quite useful. Not only would she be bringing a meal to their rooms shortly, but there were other guests arriving to the Inn for the occasion of the Royal Summons. Not many were fully aware of the exact nature of the gathering, but speculation and rumors ran like wildfire through the corridors. It was even mentioned that the Commander of the Royal Elisandrian Guard would be in attendance.

  Finally arriving at their suite James Bishop, Horatio Washburn and Roland White made preparations for the meal to be served in the common dining area. It was hoped that more information would present itself while they ate. Long days on a vessel full of the entitled had shown Bishop the importance of listening to the servant class. It was amazing how much the staff knew that the upper crust was careless enough to discuss openly.

  Several courses in and a few lovely glasses of a fine brandy and Captain Bishop had a pretty good understanding of what the important matters of the town were. It was not necessarily the information he was hoping to attain, but it was a good indication of the flow of information. He was also gaining a new respect for what the Pirate had done when she began the rumors of chaos through the towns. Stories and gossip spread like an infection distorting as it moved through the populace.

  After supper the men returned to their chambers retiring for the night in order to be fresh for the morrow. James Bishop unpacked his dress uniform and laid it across a small stool to straighten out the wrinkles. The grand colors of the Empire were impressive and shared the air of the Emperor’s desire for opulence. The deep emerald doublet over the crisp white shirt accented the sapphire short coat and trouser. High jet black boots that went just past the knee acted as much for protection against rigging and other items related to the deck of a ship as for a glamorous style.

  Chapter 142

  His night was spent in restlessness as Captain Bishop replayed events in his head and possible reasons and outcomes of the upcoming gathering. By the time the sun invaded the dark room he was ready to get up and get the day finished. Somewhat annoyed but quietly enjoying the ability to get “dolled up” the Captain smoothed out his uniform and did a last polish to his boots. A light knock on the chamber door interrupted his last glance in the tall standing mirror.

  “What.” he said with an irritated tone.

  “Well, Captain, looks like time to meet the Powers that Be.” Roland said with a bit of a smirk. “You look lovely, Sir.”

  Roland and Horatio stood just inside the chambers waiting for the Captain and inspecting each other with annoyed amusement. They were infrequently asked to don the Dress Blues and for the sailors it felt more like a display of pampas deception.

  “Now let’s get this over with, shall we?” Captain urged stepping from his room.

  With one more glance at the mirror and straightening his sash James Bishop turned to go. He nodded for Horatio to lead the party. Flipping the handle and swinging the heavy wooden door wide Horatio Washburn almost collided headlong into a familiar face. Bernard Washburn stood in the hall poised for a knock. It had been so long since the brothers had seen each other that the moment of silence for one to recognize the other became almost deafening.

  “What the Hell are you doing here?” Washburn exclaimed.

  “And lovely to see you too, brother.” came the reply.

  The brothers embraced then stepped back to inspect the other. Both were in full dress uniforms, one was the crimson and purple of the Guard, the other was the deep sapphire blue and emerald green of the Navy. Ribbons and medals adorned the men’s short coats showing their accomplishments in battles and the bravery and honor they brought to their ranks.

  “Wow, Bernie, it’s been a long time! I thought that pesky pirate had killed you.”

  “Well she sure did try, I’ll give her that. I will say that the wound she gave me is still quite the nuisance. It doesn’t want to heal, but enough of that we have places to be. I was sent to escort you and your Captain to the Palace.” Bernard said leading them out of the room.

  Striding with an exaggerated air of confid
ence and bravado the men strode down the hall and through the tavern. Their caps were held under their arms until appropriate to wear. Once they were on the front step of the Inn, as if on command, all the covers went on simultaneously. The sight was as much comical as it was impressive.

  The small group of men stepped in time towards the stables to collect their fresh mounts. The plumes on their covers waved gracefully in the breeze as they prepared for their short jaunt to the Palace of the Emperor.

  Chapter 143

  The streets they traveled were so immaculate that their crisp uniforms were barely threatened to acquire any dust or grime. The stunning display of cleanliness mirrored the image of Castle Elisand. Tall white granite loomed over the city like sentries on display. Banners and colorful flags danced in the breezes as in a pageant celebrating the very existence of the land and the people who lived in it. The pomp and circumstance told all in the City that the Emperor was in session and that an audience was possible. The streets seemed to rejoice at the fact the Sovereign allowed such intimate access to the seat of power.

  Riding tall in their saddles the officers and their escorts could barely hide the pride they felt in this Empire, even if their errand was less than personally productive. Crossing the gentle sloping bridge of the North Corridor and passing between its tall white spires tipped with flaming gold dragons perched atop as if on continuous guard duty gave an almost surreal air of sophistication. The wooden gate with etchings of ancient runes and pictographs gave testament to the age of this kingdom. Trumpets announcing the opening of the court gave the horses gait background music spurring them on to their final destination.

  Pulling up to the gates Bernard paused for a moment looking over his younger brother one more time.

  “Well, sir, this is where we part for the moment. I will see you soon.” He said as he turned his horse off the chosen path galloping around a corner.

  Horatio was barely able to return the salutation before his brother disappeared. With a nod and a shrug he returned to the other Navy Officers and continued to their destination. A stable hand had come to tend the horses allowing the images to continue to unfold before them.