“Oh no!” The Good Captain said as he walked from the castle in the air down to the jetty where his five ships were moored. “I feel another storm coming on!”

He was walking down from the castle with his Fair Maiden on his left and Captain Bildgepoole on his right, none of them were rugged up for the impending weather which the Good Captain referred to, they didn’t need to be.

As they approached the jetty, which had recently been remodelled and lengthened to accommodate the newly acquired ships, the Good Captain looked out over his small fleet. Where there had once been a single jetty that ran parallel to the waters edge there now stood six branches jutting into the large and quiet bay. Each newly created berth was large enough for one ship and each branch of the jetty reached down along either sides of the moored ships offering full and complete access to both port and starboard sides at the same time. Such a jetty was expensive and took time to be built but with the fleet the Good Captain had acquired he was not going to do things half heartedly and allowing full access to each ship was a priority.

Despite his words about a storm coming on there was no evidence in the sky, not to Captain Bildgepoole, not to the Fair Maiden and not to the hundreds of crew members milling about around the ships going about their daily routines.

“A storm?” The Fair Maiden asked as they stepped onto the main jetty.

The Good Captain seemed not to hear what his fair Maiden said, he just kept walking along the jetty, his two offsiders less than half a step behind him on either side. He walked along the jetty under the bowsprit of the Revenge, then stopped under the bowsprit of his own ship, the Privateer. The three yet to be named ships were moored to his right.

He stood still for several moments before speaking and removing any doubt that he had been listening to his Fair Maiden speak.

“A storm be comin’, but nah th’ sort o’ storm ye be thinkin’ o’. Th’ effects o’ this storm may in fact be, no, they will no doubtedly be, mind numbin’, but nah from any kind o’ cold.”

Although the Fair Maiden and Captain Bildgepoole were not understanding exactly what the Good Captain was saying they were nonetheless riveted to his words.

“Darkness shall eventually descend upon this bay afore th’ full effects o’ th’ storm are known. Some o’ these men will remain, busyin’ themselves wit’ thar jobs ‘n thar tasks, they shall be th’ lucky ones but fer others thar will be no escapin’.”

The story wasn’t really making any more sense as the Good Captain spoke, but neither the Fair Maiden or Captain Bildgepoole said anything, nor did they for an instant think that the Good Captain was loosing his doubloons from the upstairs attic, they simply stood beside him listening to his words.

“Those who see th’ storm a-comin’, will no doubt anticipate its damage long afore its felt, fer most they will ‘ave seen it ‘n felt afore. Th’ feelin’ o’ thar brains bein’ smashed inside thar skulls ’til th’ throbbin’ mass screams ‘n yells fer relief, relief it knows will nah be comin’ ’til th’ storm be well ‘n truly o’er.”

As the Good Pirate’s words faded there was a loud rumbling noise behind them. It was the kind of noise that sounded like the rumbling of thunder off in the distance, the warning to those out in the elements that there was a storm approaching. However both Captain Bildgepoole and the Fair Maiden knew that the skies were clear. A quick moving storm could have moved in behind them as they stood under the bowsprit of the Privateer but they both knew that was unlikely. As unlikely as it seemed it still did not stop them turning their heads and looking back towards the castle in the air.

It seemed unlikely that a storm had approached so quickly from the north without any sign and one glimpse at the sky confirmed that. Instead what the Fair Maiden and Captain Bildgepoole saw was Squinter Feathersword, so named because of his light handed but seriously dangerous skills with a rapier, wheel a large barrow down towards the jetty.

The rumble they had heard, a rumble that had not even made the Good Captain flinch, was nothing more than the sound of the steel braced wheels on either side of the barrow rolling over the bluestone cobbled path that lead from the road to the water’s edge. How it echoed so cleanly and so loudly over all other sounds within the bay could not be explained, neither could the timing of Squinter arriving at that exact time and none seemed to want to.

The Good Captain stared at nothing, stared through whatever was in front of him. He did not move, he stood dead still. Whether he had anything further to say on the subject of storms neither Captain Bildgepoole or the Fair Maiden could tell. It would not have surprised them in the least if he did, but they also didn’t not ask. If the Good Captain had something to share he would share it. If he had something he wished to continue he would.

“Thar shall be no firin’ o’ th’ cannons as day turns into night,” The Good Captain said almost as if he had realised the pregnant like pause that had developed between the three of them and wanted to fill it. “Th’ flags shall be lowered from thar masts, upon both ship ‘n land, thar shall be no needs fer them. It may be th’ piratical way t’ sail, fight ‘n live under th’ sign o’ th’ Jolly Roger but tonight thar ain’t needs.” The Good Captain took a deep breath then added. “Fer tonight we stand under th’ sign o’ th’ Storm o’ Ale!”

Previous Pirate story here.