The Misadventure Of Cedric Crow by Gregory D Jagger

“I doubt Lafayette himself was amused,” Crow stated. “Lafayette was furious, probably mortified at what it would do to his career.”

“Yeah, well next time we had better make sure we don't steal it from right under the nose of a man who’s going to chase us from the moment we make way on a quest for vengeance till the day he dies.” “Ten years,” Crow began, “ten years we’ve all been together, scrounging a living, and this old wreck’s carried us through it all.”

At this point, Pierre raised his glass and said, “To many more years of law breaking, plundering and drunkenness.”

“Captain!” a voice called out, “the mist is carrying.” It was Breeman, the man Crow left in charge whilst most of the crew were taking it in turns for shifts. Breeman was a pleasant soul at heart but could come off a little stiff and urgent at times, though this did not stop Crow thinking him a valuable friend. “If we lose it completely then we lose our only cover.”

“Well then, prepare to make way and follow the mist,” Crow ordered, after a short pause.

“Captain, there's something else as well, something strange.”

“What?” asked Crow curiously. “Well,” Breeman continued, “on the third watch, one of the crew notified me that he could have sworn he saw a lantern just off starboard aft!”

There was an awkward pause, then Crow brought out of his pocket a small telescope and dropped it into Breeman’s palm, then muttered quietly, “I'll be up in a moment,” and walked off.

After the conversation with Breeman, Crow began to climb the short steep ladder to the Captain’s Mess (his quarters) when his brother came up to him. “What’s going on?” he asked curiously.

“Breeman thinks we might be being shadowed,” Crow explained.

“Followed?” his brother repeated. “Yes Pierre, followed.” Crow replied, “I'm taking a look now.”

“Ok Cedric,” Pierre antagonized.

“Cedric, I told you not to call me that,” Crow spurted out.

“Why not?” Pierre cried.

“I just don’t like it. Now I'll get on with what I was doing, and you, Pierre, go back to the feast. “I might as well take a look,” Pierre responded.”

Crow stepped up into his quarters and peered into his huge back window onto a misty grey night above the clear wake of the great ship. As Crow moved closer he could see nothing unusual about the foggy scene - the mist was just the same as any other mist he had encountered. Then suddenly ….. Was that a lantern he saw in the moonlight? It was so hazy he could not make out the source of the glint of light in the near distance; it also appeared very blurred as its noticeable glow reflected on the almost transparent mist.

“It could just be the moon,” Pierre assured him.

“You’re probably right,” Crow replied.

“Hold on!” Pierre called as Crow was making his way down the ladder.

“What?” he asked. “That glint of light is coming toward us.”

“What?” replied Crow.

It happened in a blink of an eye. Soon they spotted two lanterns, then three; then Crow and Pierre had seconds to fling themselves out of the room before Crow heard a cannon firing and the whole room lit up in flames. When Crow looked up he clamped eyes on a total wreck full of burning cloth and artifacts, the room’s furniture flaming, its large window shattered.

Crow could hear the sound of the warning bell over the noise of the panicking crew. He struggled to the armory with Pierre, many of the men they passed were carrying cutlasses and muskets and pistols and daggers, all running towards the deck. As Crow reached for his sword and pistol he felt a great shudder as the ship was hit with yet another tremendous shot; he struggled to his quarters, his grasp on the sides of the corridors failing. Regaining his composure, Crow left his cabin through the main doors.

As he stepped onto the deck he clamped eyes on a fuming wreck wreathed in flame. Crow started moving towards the helm; suddenly a cannonball hit the main mast forcing it to collapse into the water setting the remaining sails alight. “Helm, full ahead,” Crow ordered.

“We’re not going anywhere,” said the helmsman, staring at the sails.

Crow hesitated for a second then announced, “Prepare the heavy cannon.”

But, as soon as the crew brought it out, a cannon ball shot through the deck, breaching the hull and forcing the heavy cannon with it. Crow couldn’t think what to do. Then suddenly, there was an awful noise, and a second later he saw dozens of pieces of wood flung in the air on each side of the ship and he immediately knew what had happened. A member of Crow’s crew came running out of the Captain’s quarters nursing a broken arm and heading for the helm.

“They hit the cannon,” he spurted, “they’re all in the ocean.” At that moment Crow smelled the pungent scent of gunpowder, and a few seconds later there was a large explosion behind the Captain. Glass shattered, ropes split, Crow himself was thrown from the helm to the lower deck, and then all was quiet. As Crow stepped up he saw that the seaman whom he had just talked to was now dead, lying on a broken mast’s base.

As he turned his head he saw that a Man o’ War was sailing parallel to the Centaur.

“They’re about to board us,” shouted Pierre.

Crow turned his head towards where the explosion had taken place, then he looked up and saw Breeman fighting for life with a single pistol against ten naval soldiers who where on the other ship.

“He’s going to die if we don’t help him,” Pierre pleaded. So then Crow ordered the crew to the sides of the ship to attempt to shoot down the enemy soldiers on the opposing vessels.

Crow and Pierre crawled up to help Breeman on the highest part of the deck above Crow’s quarters.

“Fools” Breeman called, “They were looking in the wrong direction.”

“What you mean?” Pierre asked.

“The crew in the crow’s nest was supposed to be covering the port bow; instead they covered the starboard aft,” mumbled Breeman loudly. There was a look of terror on Breeman’s face as he looked behind him when he had the fright of his life. There, right behind them, was a fleet of battleships!

“Where did they come from?” Pierre asked, the flag of Daigonia with its image of two red crossing swords chained together within a black sun, its rays of light spanning the remainder of the flag upon a green background, looming into view. “I suspect they were here the whole time,” Crow answered, “hiding in the mist.”

Crow knew their resistance was doomed, but it would be suicide to leave the ship unaided by craft, so he ordered everyone to the landing boats. “Abandon ship!” he ordered after he had explained his plan. Just then, whilst his crew was boarding the lifeboats, Crow forgot totally about the soldiers on the other ship. It happened so quickly Crow could barely believe his eyes, as Crow and the others were sneaking to the boats the sound of a bullet echoed from the direction of the enemy soldiers and next minute BREEMAN HAD BEEN SHOT! He was hurled over the side of the ship. Forcing himself onto his elbows he took one last look at Crow and finally relaxed his grasp then fell into the deep black ocean below.

Crow was in shock, he had just lost his closest friend.

“C’mon,” Pierre, grabbed hold of his shoulder and dragged him away, his eyes fixed on the spot were Breeman had fallen. As the Man o’ War was boarding the ship, Crow, and Pierre hurried to the landing boats, but just before entering shots fired from the other ships, and the ropes holding bout to ship split, the men plummeting into the water. Crow turned his head and saw a handful of the boarding party heading there way. They were the Daigonians, his arch foe. They occupied a small number of large islands in the mostly unknown regions of the world. They were said to take pride in their large military force which was currently being used to annex the particular region which the Centaur had been traveling through, striving toward their ultimate goal, to become a major faction and build an empire of their own. Crow turned his head. Twenty soldiers, in green trousers with black shirts and waistcoats with green overcoats and carrying rifles, were running toward them. “Hide!” he ordered, but whilst Crow and Pierre hid, the crew kept fighting and all the more kept collapsing dead on the ground until there was no one left who could stand except for Crow and Pierre, who, when they heard the steps of the boarding party approaching, stood up with their hands in the air.

As Crow stood up, about a dozen soldiers came running towards them forming a close circle, whilst Crow helped Pierre to his feet.

“Stand aside!” A man’s voice called from the fog. The soldiers made a narrow path through their circle and there a man walked out of the mist. This man had long black hair, blue eyes and was clearly an officer, as he wore a dark green Admiral’s uniform not dissimilar from that of other factions of its era, covered by a long black cloak fastened at the collar along with fine black leather boots and a matching silver buckled belt possessing two powder guns, an officer’s fencing sword, a tri-corn hat and an immensely satisfied expression.

“Evening!” the man called as he started to walk through the circle. It was Lafayette, the man Crow and Pierre stole the Centaur from. “LAFAYETTE” Crow shouted, “YOU KILLED BREEMAN, YOU VILLAIN…”

“Now, now,” Lafayette began, “you might want to hold that tongue, Crow. It might get you hanged one of these days…”

But before he could finish his sentence, Crow had thumped him in the teeth… “You’re going to regret that Crow - that is if you live long enough to. Y-YOU INHUMANE BEAST…”

Before Pierre could finish his sentence Lafayette had thumped him in the stomach.

“Take them to our brig,” Lafayette ordered, “and use the manacles.”

“What about the men in the water?” Crow asked.

A cruel smile appeared on Lafayette’s face, “Well what about them?” Crow asked.

“Tow the Centaur out of the mist,” Lafayette ordered, “then let it drift away. As for the men, leave them to drown!”

“MURDERER” Crow shouted as Lafayette strolled to the other ship.

So Crow stood under the Daigonian flag on the Man o’ War and watched as the Centaur, its landing boats half attached to the ship, was dragged out of the mist, its Crew shouting in the background until he was sent down to the brig and left to die.

Chapter two

THE TALE OF SIR RUPERT HERRING

“So?” a listener asked three years later in The Horseshoe, a small inn overlooking Daigoniom in the Daigonian countryside that Crow and Pierre, had inherited before they became pirates. “What happened next?” the man continued. “Well, Pierre and I just hung there for several days until we were let off at a nearby port,” Crow continued. “More like thrown off” Pierre mumbled. “You said you were going to be hung?” asked a listener. “That’s what’s funny about it,” Crow explained. “What’s so funny about not dying?” asked Pierre. “Just before they let us off,” Crow continued. “Another Admiral came up to Lafayette, and a few seconds later he stormed off furious and went back to his quarters. Then the Admiral fetched the guards and had them chucking us both off the ramp onto the ground.” “Well, your turn, George,” Crow said. The man called George was an old humpbacked cripple who possessed an old wooden walking stick.

“Well I suppose my story begins about 40 years ago, I suppose that would be 1722. Anyway, my younger brother Fredrick Kensington went on an expedition to seek out something called the statue of Callador which was supposedly covered in diamonds and the size of a large table, and six months later he came back completely different. His clothes were made of fine silk of bright purple, his hair long and shiny; also he had brought with him a sparkling new sword with a silver-like blade which was made of a mineral I had never seen before. It also had writing on it in a language I’ve never seen before with a diamond in the middle of its blade.

When I asked him about it he said just one thing, that it held the strength of a thousand men, and that he had found something much more fascinating and wondrous than that. He also said he had never found the statue. It must have been really big if it was the size of a large table. He never told me what it was, so I can’t tell you but the statue was supposed to be the size of a table at least, so whatever it was it must have been wondrously magnificent. He also spoke of a large grand castle in the middle of the ocean as if the island it had been resting on had been flooded over and the castle parched high enough remained. It was supposed to be decorated in all sorts of flags and banners, and trumpets were supposed to sound what time of day it was or important events every few hours.”

“The size of a table,” Pierre shouted. “That would keep you going for a while.” “Anyway,” the man continued. “a few days later he came up to me and told me that he would be leaving in the morning and to tell everyone that they won’t see him again, and that he has left a letter to them. So next morning, I traveled to our parents’ house and they told me to bring him back as they were concerned about him, so I set off to look for him.” “Did you find him?” Pierre asked. “Well yes,” the man went on, “but when I did, a few hours later, he was dead; fell off the side of a cliff. Our mother and father were hysterical when I told them, and all our relatives and friends when I told them.” “So what happened to the sword?” asked a listener. “Well that’s the interesting bit. The night we were discussing Fredrick in the local the day I brought the body back was the night we decided who got what. No one seemed to have a claim to the sword so, we took a vote and, well I got it.” “So?” asked another. “Well I sold it, didn’t I?” “You sold a sword as fancy as that?” Pierre cried. “Well I wasn’t going to just keep it, was I? it was worth a fortune!” “So who’s got the sword now? Crow asked curiously.

The man’s expression went from a casual look of normality to a silent fear. “I sold it to a blacksmith on Bear Soulless,” the man continued. “Where’s that?” Crow asked, “I’ve never heard of it.” “There are few who have,” replied the man. “It was once a lush and green paradise where the wealthiest and richest thrived in excellence. Now it is a barren rock, at most barely scraping the surface of the long neglected vast span of ocean it rests in. Little life looms on that island. Only deserters and the marooned linger on that gothic wasteland.” And then it happened, the beginning of the most challenging, exciting and memorable time Crow, and Pierre would ever have.

What if he could find this statue? George himself said it was the size of a table, but he couldn’t do it alone, he needed a ship, and a crew, digging material, on-land transportation, and there was only one place Crow knew he could get hold of all that, but first he needed more information, and something else, someone who had the eyes of a hawk, his brother. “Does this man live?” Crow asked. “I would expect no one knows, except the people on that island,” George replied. After everybody had shoved their way out of the door at closing time, except for those who were staying the night, Crow and Pierre set out to make themselves some supper and by the time they had sat down to eat it, Crow could keep it up no longer. “No!” Pierre shouted twenty minutes later. “Why should I travel half way across the world just to fetch some artifact for you?” “It’s a statue,” Crow corrected, “and I’ll be doing most of the work myself and we would be sharing the money we make from it between us!” Crow hauled back. Crow noticed a glint in Pierre’s eyes that told him he was finally succeeding. “Just us,” Pierre replied. “Well that and our funder maybe, and some crew,” Crow said. “And just who might that be?......the DAIGONIANS!” Pierre gave a whispered gasp. “ARE YOU TOTALLY INSANE?” Pierre shouted. Pierre simmered down. “Don’t you remember what happened?” he asked coolly . “Yes I do remember,” Crow grunted. “You said it yourself; the Daigonians can never be trusted.” “Times change”, Crow said. He gave a deep sigh. “The fact is that they’re the only organization that has the equipment and money we need to launch such an expedition.” Pierre began to weigh the balances for a moment then sighed and said, “Oh, all right!” “We’ll need a little more proof before we discuss it with the Navy though,” Crow said, grinning at Pierre’s reply.

So the next day Crow and Pierre rummaged through Crow’s private library to find some more information on the previous expedition for the statue. “Here’s something!” Pierre shouted after two hours of searching. He held up to Crow’s face an open book about the size of a small boulder and on its open page Crow could make out minute writing which read:

THE SEARCH FOR CALLADOR: On the first of March 1748 the Brigantine Vincent, under the command of Captain James Herring {professional archeologist, former Daigonian naval Captain and is stereotyped as wearing a long gold-patterned green cloak}, embarked on a 6 month voyage to seek out a huge statue named the Statue of Callador. Unfortunately the Statue was not discovered though valuable information of an extinct ancient civilization, possibly an Empire, was found. For more information on this subject read THE MEMOIRS OF SIR RUPERT HERRING.

“Well at least that’s something,” Crow said, “but we need hard proof that this Callador really exists. We can’t ask the Daigonian Republican Navy to spend twenty thousand Diagonals on ifs, buts and maybes.” “I’ll start looking again then shall I?” Pierre asked. After six hours of searching through the bookshelves, Crow finally let out a loud gasp of excitement. “Pierre, take a look at this!” he shouted. He held in front of Pierre a large thick book complete with leather casing and brass hinges with the title: THE MEMOIRS OF SIR RUPERT HERRING.

Pierre tore open the book and began looking for the pages on the expedition. Half an hour later he came upon a chapter entitled ‘THE EXPEDITION FOR THE STATUE OF CALLADOR’ and began to read out:

“One evening at my stately home near Daigoniom, I found myself nurturing in my palm, a relaxing cup of Earl Gray whilst reading a copy of “Cannons”, when I heard the cracklings of a fire from upstairs. I hurried to the source immediately, accompanied by several housemaids, to find a curtain ablaze in one of the rooms; however, as I approached the curtain a floor board came out of place as I stepped on it, its far end knocking me on the head rendering me unconscious.

An hour or so later I woke to find myself in my bed surrounded by maids and butlers, lying on my silk green gold-patterned cloak at which point, my chief butler, Drake Torrington, presented me with a black leather book of great size. I wiped my hand over its smooth surface. It was cold to the touch. Torrington was my chief butler, in his mid twenties with short black hair and was very secretive of his time before my Manichean. However, at this point I sent him away and my attention turned to the pages within the book. I gripped the side of it, but there must have been some sort of locking mechanism for I could not open it.

I brushed my hand down its silver fittings and leather coverings; they were of amazing detail, quality craftsmanship. In the very heart of the silver fittings, there was a red diamond, with a fitting crafted as a pentagonal star. Then it struck me, the pentagonal star looked, due to its slightly elevated appearance from the other fittings, as though it rotated.

I began to turn it. It easily began to rotate, unlocking the pages within. It was written in a tongue not Daigonian; however it was similar enough for me to make out bits and pieces. It described a civilization of unique qualities and of great wealth and riches and a millennia of history. It also revealed details of a great statue symbolizing everything that the civilization wished to be, covered in diamonds. And then it came to me - I would find this statue and with the wealth I would receive from its enriched decorations I would live out the rest of my days in even grander luxury. The odds of me finding the Statue were not favorable; however, one of the last things I could make out in the book was the location of the furthest reaching outpost of their Empire, a place that is, however slightly, known to Daigonia today in the same tongue. Bear Soulles! I would begin my search there. But I had no way of knowing whether what I read ever happened and, come to think of it, I have no reason to, but at least I could learn the secrets of whatever I just read.” Beneath the paragraph of writing there was a map revealing the whereabouts of Bear Soulles. “This is it!” Crow shouted, “This is what we need as proof.” “But who would see that as proof?” Pierre asked.

“Well this was written by James Herring, and James Herring was a famous retired Daigonian Captain. So the Daigonians won’t think him a liar, Pierre, will they? Now we need to head to bed and get some sleep”.

Early that morning Crow and Pierre prepared their horse and cart, sorted their evidence and were bound for Daigoniom. After two hours of travelling, Crow and Pierre began to pass through the centre of the Daigonian capital. As Crow turned toward the window he noticed many typical Daigonian semi-detached houses of rich architecture, creating a purposely designed pathway between each row. The street sides themselves were covered in shops and stalls and were sometimes slightly elevated. As he began to stop the carriage (once the carriage had turned into the Grand Square) Crow set eyes upon a large stone building of gothic architecture and many engravings of past Consuls and heroes of the republic. Crow stopped the carriage just outside the doors of the titanic building, and began to climb the stone steps accompanied by Pierre. At that moment, in the main street opposite the Palace leading down to the main docks, there appeared a large crowd shouting the name, “Xavier, Xavier,” at a large convoy of soldiers bearing Daigonian flags, many trumpets sounding, and at the head of the column there appeared a chariot upon which stood a man in his late fifties, dressed in the green Consular ceremonial uniform lined with gold and a green gold cloak and a feathered general’s hat. The procession was heading their way, into the Grand Square, at which point the two brothers entered the Palace. They entered a huge heavily decorated cathedral-like room with lanterns lit on every wall. At the far end of the room there stood a moon-shaped table with a smartly dressed woman behind it to whom Crow began to walk towards.

“I believe we have an appointment with a high Admiral,” Crow said, noticing a large glass window at the very back of the building overlooking a large portion of Daigoniom. For the evening before, Crow had sent a message to the DAIGONIAN GRAND COUNCIL’S PALACE, DAIGONIOM. “Just…just through there and the second d...door to the right,” the woman said, then for no reason at all she left the room at a fast pace.

When Crow and Pierre had reached their destination they found a plain wooden room filled with nothing but a simple wooden desk and some chairs. They waited for hours and hours until the arrival of a man with long black hair and blue eyes and carrying a pistol in one hand.

Chapter three MANY UNHAPPY REUNIONS Crow leapt at the Admiral and grabbed his pistol and struggled with it toward its master!

“CROW NO!”

But before Pierre could stop him, Crow had plunged the heavy pistol into Lafayette’s cheek. Crow froze and began to turn his head ever so slightly to Pierre.

“Then what do you expect me to do to the man who killed my crew and my best friend, the man who destroyed my ship and let it drift into the ocean along with most of our possessions, the man who almost got us both hanged?”

“We should at least try to stay off each other’s throats if were going to try and get this funding,” Pierre reasoned.

“So what do you want me to say? ‘Oh, hello Lafayette, want a cup of tea? Earl Grey, oh, I think we’re out of that’”.

“Do you want this or not?” Pierre asked. Crow paused for a second, lowered the pistol and loosened his grip on Lafayette’s collar before removing it entirely, then returned the pistol to the grasp of its owner who lowered it into his robes.

“Right then,” Lafayette continued whilst straightening his hair, “what’s all this about a statue?”

“The statue I’m going to find and to be perfectly honest if the Daigonians want to get their hands dirty in something other than blood for a change, then they’re entitled to twenty five percent of the plunder,” said Crow.

“What sort of statue, how big is it?” asked Lafayette.

“Roughly the size of a large table.” answered Crow.

The three of them discussed the details of the statue for the next half an hour or so until Lafayette commented “perhaps this meeting hasn’t been a total waste of time after all. Where is it?”

“We’re not telling you anything more until we have proof that you won’t just dump us and go off looking for it on your own.”

“I see. Very well I shall return to consult you after we have made our decision, though I do impress on you that I would have a lot more success if I knew just a fraction more.”

“Ok then, here’s your fraction, we don’t actually know where the statue is but we know how to find it, the statue itself is lying in an ancient humongous fortress of a long dead empire, we request a ship and excavation equipment.”

“That, Crow, would be most adequate,” said Lafayette before walking out of the room. After their brief encounter with their ex-rival they waited for hours and hours until the next sight of Lafayette.

When Lafayette re-entered the room, his expression was of the absolute gravest - “follow me.” And the two of them departed the room passing from one corridor to another until they entered a large stone room shaped much like a star, or a circle with many spikes around its edges around which stood a large number of theatre-like seats where sat Councilors. At the far end of the chamber lay a throne-like chair behind which hung a large Daigonian flag much the same as those that hung around the rest of the room. Upon that throne sat the very man who rode upon the chariot.

“My Admiral tells me you wish funding for the recovery of the statue of Callador,” he spoke.

The Councilors upon the seats surrounding them were murmuring to themselves.

“This is a matter of great importance to me, for the treasures upon the artifact will fund a large bulk of the construction of our new navies which are key to imperial expansion.”

Xavier stared at them, “I therefore hereby place upon this expedition the personal order of the Consul.”

At that point the elderly ruler gave his Admiral the signal and Lafayette directed them out of the Chamber and back to the small room.

“Fifty percent,” declared Lafayette.

“Thirty five,” said Crow a little tired after the wait.

“Forty-five, forty,” Pierre whispered.

“Too far.” Crow turned back to the impatient face of Lafayette but before Crow could speak Pierre shouted, “Thirty.”

Lafayette’s face turned red, “Forty, thirty-five, forty,” Lafayette growled. It was then that Crow noticed something down on the street that made Crow’s eyes glimmer with delight. “Forty, if I get the ship! I’m in this as well, you know,” shouted Pierre. “Not a Daigonian ship chosen for us though, we want a civilian ship chosen by ourselves.”

Lafayette thought for a moment. “Forty five,” he pushed.

“It’s still twenty-seven and a half percent,” Crow reasoned, “and it’s not as if we can do it without them.”

Pierre thought for a second then moaned, “Alright.”

Crow stretched out his arm in front of him. “Forty-five percent.”

Lafayette stretched out his arm in response and after a moment both arms met. After that they shook with Pierre. Lafayette left the room again. After about an hour, he came back with a satisfied expression on his face.

“You shall receive your excavation equipment accompanied by one thousand Diagonals for supplies and one hundred thousand Diagonals for buying a ship.” He paused for a second, looked at them then announced, “I shall accompany you on this expedition to ensure its success.”

As they strolled down a mist-covered road the three of them discussed their many ideas and plans. “What of a crew?” asked Pierre.

“What of a ship?” asked Lafayette. Crow wasn’t listening, he was taking the others to the advertisement he had set eyes on earlier. He turned into the street that possessed the parchment and there it was, in the shadows of the walls. Crow took one short glance at it then began to walk very fast to a plain small opening in a street lane; the other two were getting very curious of where he was leading them. After two roads, four lanes and three dead ends and another road, Crow began to slow down.

Suddenly Crow halted in front of a large oak door with a sign above saying: SAILS AND ANCHORS The door rattled open, Crow’s hand clutching the long neglected door knob.

As the door creaked slowly open, Crow and Pierre’s eyes suddenly turned to marble, their mouths wide open as they discovered an unrivalled sight.

There, in front of them stood a large Frigate class battle ship, its masts tall, its lamps held by steel staves, its hull smooth, a figure of a Centaur upon its newly varnished bow, covered in miniature carvings leading from forward, slightly under and over the cannon ports to the aft window, where above you would find a large plank revealing the name.

CENTAUR Chapter four ONE LITTLE SHIP “How did it get here?” asked Crow.

“It was adrift in the middle of the Caribbean. She found her way to the coast of Spain and ran adrift on some rocks,” said a voice in the shadows of a small hut fixed into a wall. Crow had just noticed the surroundings: they were in some sort of large boathouse leading out to sea. Meanwhile the man began to move toward them, revealing a wrinkled face covered with hair running all the way down to ruffled hole-ridden trousers followed by a plain brown waistcoat.

“So a couple of lads and I went out to take a look at her and decided to salvage her. It took years.”

“How much, Pierre, will you be prepared to part with for it?” asked Crow. He was waiting for a protest from his brother but by the amazed look on his face there would be no complaints from him.

“How much?” asked Crow.

“Ten thousand”

“Ok then.” After he had made the deal the shopkeeper (as it were) led them on a tour through the ship.

“Here’s the deck,” he announced as they reached the top of the ship. The sight of the deck was exactly as he last saw it, give or take a few flames.

As Pierre stared longingly at the high crow’s nest, Crow began to make his way to the helm. As he ran his palm down the smooth surface of the newly decorated patterned wheel, he remembered what it felt like to command such a large vessel so vast in size.

“Perhaps you would like to see the lower decks,” came the voice of the shopkeeper. This “TOUR” including viewing the newly decorated and luxurious Captain’s mess and climbing down the ladder, there to below deck to the gun powder stores, the armory, the gun deck, the galley, the crew’s quarters and the bridge.

“Well, hope everything fits your fancy,” the shopkeeper said and after a brief, “So do I!” from Crow, he walked off.

Over the next few months the three of them prepared for their expedition, collecting supplies, spare parts, weaponry; navigational devices, telescopes, compasses, and so on, until one evening they were ready to leave.

“Have we got everything?” Pierre asked Crow as he went into his inn for one last drink from his apprentice who was going to run the inn whilst Crow and Pierre were away.

“All well then?” asked Pierre, whilst the apprentice was handing him a glass of rum.

“We sail at dawn as planned,” Crow replied.

“No more for me Bill,” Pierre said to the apprentice. “You think we can trust him?” asked Pierre.

“Lafayette” Crow replied, “Not in the slightest, but I’m prepared to give him a chance.”

“Why?” Pierre asked, “Why give him another chance?”

“Because he’s our budget, and if we don’t take him with us on the expedition then we lose the expedition. Besides, he won’t try anything till we reach the rendezvous point with the crew. The Centaur needs at least two men to sail her so if he killed us he would be stuck in the ocean till the Centaur was swept up, probably in God knows where. If he killed just one of us, the one who lived would guess he killed the other one. I suppose he could kill us tonight but the way he’s been working in the last few weeks I doubt we’ll see him till we make way.”

The next morning Crow woke to find himself in his quarters, listening to the seagulls screeching on the masts. The refurbished quarters of Crow were, well there’s no other word for it, lush. Its walls were covered in red wallpaper with gold acorns dotted upon it as if they were falling from the varnished plain wooden ceiling. The whole room was covered in wooden furniture, some red padded arm chairs, decently priced gold fitted paintings of famous Captains and sea battles, fully packed book shelves, marble sculptures, one of a man’s head and one of a man’s total body dressed in a Captain’s uniform, but the most interesting piece of furniture and display were Crow’s model ship collection.

Crow had been collecting model ships since he was ten years old, whether from the flaming wreck of a Spanish Galleon or from the local model shop. The collection itself was arranged on the window sill, smallest first then larger, and more detailed the further you looked. His collection included many ships to date from Brigantines to Viking war ships but the largest of his collection was the Chinese merchant ship, the Sebeka.

“Crow” he heard Lafayette’s voice call.

After he got changed, Crow left his quarters through the gold- knobbed oak doors to the familiar deck were he found Lafayette standing next to the helm with a pleased grin on his face.

“We should have made way earlier,” Lafayette growled, “a fisherman friend of mine said in the pub last night that if we stick to the intended course we shall intercept a large storm drifting from the Middle East. We have to wait another day.”

“No!” Crow cried. “I’ve waited another day for the last three months.” There was an awful silence whilst Pierre clambered out on to deck. Crow breathed a deep breath and began to speak. “We leave at three.”

After several hours of last minute preparations and an hour of lunch they finally began their journey.

“Untie moorings, half sail, and eighty degrees to port. Crow ordered.”

A look of nostalgia crept on to Crow’s face as he steered the ship out of the port and into the river Thames which led the ship out of the capitol and into the countryside away from the port and ocean.

“According to Herring’s memoirs Bear Soulless should be north of port Daigoniom virtually in the opposite direction on the other side of the island, he informed the other two baffled crew members, it will take days off our journey if we take the Thames, it runs straight through the entire centre of the island. The river bank’s appearance was lush and green with forest-like slopes leading to long wooden platforms in front of tall boat houses. Other parts were plain ground at the bottom of steep green slopes, some of city and towns with horizontal stone sides and some of small villages with sloped banks. As the great ship loomed into the moonlit sight of her first destination, she came upon a small building on the side of a river bank beside a large gap in the surrounding countryside at which to moor the Centaur. After securing the ship the three of them decided to go for a drink.

“We should have waited,” Lafayette began.

“Don’t start.” Crow sighed.

That evening Crow stepped out of the bar to the small wooden platform and began to gaze at the stars, but there was a problem. There were no stars, instead there was a thick cloud covering the view above.

“Take a look at that,” Crow asked Pierre as he went out of the bar to join him.

“Yes, it does look a bit cloudy, looks as if we’re in for some rough weather tomorrow.”

“Yes,” replied Crow, remembering what Lafayette had said.

The next morning the three of them detached their moorings and headed along the river again. Hour after hour they trudged trough the wooded banks and flowing rivers until finally after a day’s worth of travelling they ploughed into the ocean.

After half an hour of clear sailing, Pierre began to notice a cloud formation growing in the distance. It was dark grey, growing larger and larger and darker and darker until he could not see anything past it. Crow who had begun to notice the phenomenon made to avoid a collision, but the ship was far too large and heavy to turn in time and the ship headed straight into the storm.

After a while, above the thunder and lightning, sheeting rain started to pour back into the ocean from the clouds above. On the ship the foul winds and rains got so horrendous that Crow had to order the deck cleared and weigh anchor for the duration of the storm in which he and his accomplices took refuge in the galley .

“I told you we should have waited another day,” continued Lafayette.

“All right, all right I admit we should have waited! Open the food storage; it’s going to be a long time before we can go back up on deck”, Pierre added as the ship rocked once more.

A few hours later the three of them found themselves playing a game of cards.

“It’s a two month trip to Bear so we can’t eat too much,” Lafayette began, whilst Pierre drank up the last of the rum. “Where exactly is this crew?” asked Crow.

“It is due to intercept us in five days in a small ship.”

“Good,” replied Crow.

Things were working out perfectly other than the storm; with any luck he would have the statue in his possession sooner than he could have hoped. The storm had left strong winds and a calm sea. He doubted that the clouds could pour down any more rain after the shower the night before. And that was it. He had the equipment to dig for the statue but not to transport it to the ship. Lafayette was repairing the masts after the storm the previous night.

“I can’t do more than a duff job for this one,” he added. “We’ll have to repair it at Bear Soulless. Lafayette, we have a problem.”

The Admiral turned to face Crow.

“We have no way of transporting the statue to the ship. We’ll sort out something in Bear Soulles.”

Crow didn’t know what to say to this so he would just wait and see what happened.

Chapter five THE CLOAK OF SIR WILMON As the voyage grew longer so did the nights, every day became shorter and shorter and even when it was not totally covered with darkness the day was as light as dusk. The Centaur anchored at the rendezvous coordinates for a few days as they were ahead of schedule due to Crow’s short cut.

One evening, Pierre thought he had spotted something in the mist before him. After a few moments of confused staring he rang the alarm bell. Crow and Lafayette immediately ran to the deck with startled expressions across their faces.

“What is it?” Crow asked, “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a ship heading straight for us.” Crow brought out of his pocket a shining silver telescope that he held to his eye. Through the glass of the telescope he made out a large boat crewed by perhaps twenty men. “It’s moving fast,” Crow announced. “It’ll be here in just a few minutes.”

“She looks as if she’s heading for the starboard side,” said Lafayette.

They all ran to the side of the ship just in time to catch a rope swung to them by the now almost parallel boat. Pierre caught it in both hands.

“THROW DOWN A LADDER!” shouted the mysterious boat leader. Lafayette fetched a rope ladder whilst Crow and Pierre tied the rope to the mast and in a few seconds the men were aboard. Suddenly, the rope that was holding the large boat in place snapped due to extreme weight, allowing the boat to drift into the distance.

“You must be Montgomery Lafayette,” the man who appeared to be the leader of the mysterious band asked the man in question.

“I may,” Lafayette replied, “It depends who’s asking.”

The man took a long look over the three seamen before him.

“A man called Lafayette posted a letter to me in Daigonia, requesting that myself and my crew join him on the H.M.S Centaur along with Cedric and Pierre Crow. The letter also enclosed rendezvous co-ordinates and details of why we should do this.”

After a few seconds of silent thinking Crow turned his head to Lafayette who in return to an unspoken question of ‘are they who they say they are?’ gave a small nod.

“Well what are you waiting for then, the galley’s fresh with supplies?” Crow took a short look at Pierre, almost.

After a short pause the crewmen began to walk away except for the leader who remained behind.

“One last thing sir,” he said.

“Yes,” Crow replied.

“We passed Bear Soulless a few days ago. How did it look?” he asked.

“Exactly like the letter said it would: a big rock sticking out of the sea.”

This description seemed somewhat typical of the other descriptions. Again after beginning to walk off the man stopped and turned to the three sailors.

“One last thing sir, the crew wanted me to hand you this”.

The man pulled out of a ragged bag on his side a shining green cloak. The man handed it to Crow. It had definitive tree branches with twigs and leaves sewn on it, plus a hood attached round its gold patterns matching a metal buttoned collar.

“Thank you,” Crow replied. “What’s your name?” he asked as the man walked off again.

“Tolbert.”

“Night, Tolbert,” he replied and the man walked off.

“So what do think of them?” asked Lafayette on the way up to Crow’s quarters.

“I think they’ll be fine. What about you Crow?” asked Pierre.

“I don’t know,” he answered, only time will tell.

Chapter six BEAR SOULLES After a stormy week of rough travel, the Centaur, far ahead of schedule thanks to Crow’s shortcuts finally arrived in the area of Bear Soulless.

“I don’t see a port of any sort,” Crow moaned as he stared through his silver rimmed telescope upon the island itself. Bear Soulless was as bleak as the descriptions it had been defined with. Its hazardous beaches were covered not with sand but with razor sharp rocks beneath towering steep cliffs, above those, he caught sight of a collapsing long abandoned settlement perched on the highest cliff of the island, above a forest-like swamp covering the lowest part of the island where trees and bushes barely stuck out of the engulfing ocean. Suddenly, a dot of light flashed through Crow’s telescope. He turned to the others who were squinting in the direction of the island.

“Did you see that?” he asked them, “did you see that light?”

“Where?” asked Lafayette curiously.

Crow looked through the lengthy device once more.

“There it is,” he said.

“Where for Christ sake?” the others asked.

“There, at the top of the highest cliff. That might be him,” said Pierre enthusiastically, “the blacksmith.”

“If only there was some sort of moorings over there.”

Crow took yet another glance through his telescope.

“THERE!” Crow cried.

As the others strained their eyes they saw at the very bottom of the slope to the highest cliff a small mooring before the beginnings of a swamped forest.

After much debating the three of them decided to send a landing party of just themselves instead of a larger more difficult group and, after much preparing, were being lowered into the ocean in a fully packed landing boat and were soon rowing towards Bear Soulless. The days leading to the island had become completely shrouded in darkness, as the three of them had come to realize, the days were now as dark as night. As they rowed the rogue traveler felt a great and sudden surge of misery and despair as the great gothic giant grew ever closer.

“Get ready,” Pierre said as the boat floated into the vicinity of a small bank consisting of a small wooden pier of snapped and rotted planks stretching from one end of the beach to the other. The band jolted forward as the boat collided with the pier with a tremendous thud. Crow, using an oar, nudged the boat into position whilst Pierre tied up the moorings and Lafayette began to unload the supplies.

“Leave them,” Crow said, “I doubt anyone would nab them whilst we were gone. Pocket as much as you can but we don’t want heavy sacks slowing us down and draining our strength whilst climbing that steep slope.”

As they travelled away from the beach, then toward the slope, they found themselves trampling through the borders of the swamp forest before they began to climb. After long hard slippery endless trekking the band finally reached the top of the slope. Lafayette clenched the rock as he toiled the last few inches of the climb and brought himself up to usual height. The surface beneath them was as rough as the stormy weather surrounding the cliff top that gave such a horrific view. As the band turned from the edge of the cliff that stood so firmly on the island below they spotted the origin of the luminous lantern light. Among the ruins of old buildings battered by time there stood a perfectly preserved wooden building, its roof high, its walls solid and including a balcony on its second and middle floor.

“Take your time, Crow,” growled Lafayette, “I haven’t dwelled in such a miserable environment in years,” he continued sarcastically.

“I doubt that,” Crow replied in spite as he trudged on to its doorstep and swung the door knocker. As the two others stepped beside their Captain the door opened revealing a tall man dressed in a large fluffy fur coat and long grey hair and Beard with cold brown eyes.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” he asked in astounded disbelief,” and why have you travelled here?”

Crow paused for a moment with loss of words then said, “My name is Cedric Crow and this is Montgomery Lafayette (he pointed to both of them in turn) and this is my brother Pierre.”

Crow took one uncomfortable glance at his companions then said, “Do you know of any blacksmiths on this rock?”

The man’s curiosity grew once more. “Blacksmith you say?”

“I do,” replied Crow.

“And what, Mr. Crow, will you want of this blacksmith?”

“We wish to purchase a blade from him that once belonged to George Kensington, it is most urgent to our expedition that we purchase it.”

The man looked very curious now. “What expedition?” he asked.

Crow paused then said an expedition for a statue that Kensington’s brother had been searching for when he came upon the sword!”

At the mention of those words the man froze.

“What is your name? Crow asked.

“The Blacksmith.”

After introducing the travelers to his name, The Blacksmith (who was now known as Drake Torrington) invited them in. The rickety old house was just as respectable on the inside as on the out with lanterns on every wall of every corridor (probably why the house was so visible) and every room more luxurious than the other. Eventually the man led them to a small room filled with nothing but a few chairs and a table.

“I can’t help but wonder,” Crow started as the host began to boil some coffee in a nearby room, “what are you doing here?”

Drake interrupted.

“Well it’s simple,” he said, as he walked back into the room. “I was doing exactly what you’re doing!”

“I don’t understand,” said Crow as the man sat down.

“It all started decades ago,” Drake began.

“One evening I was strolling down town collecting my master’s shopping, for I was one of Sir Herring of Daigonia’s butlers.”

“Hold a second,” Crow interrupted, “you were Sir Herring’s butler?”

“Yes I was, answered Drake, thinking it odd that Crow take such astonishment at this. It was late at night when I returned to the Manichean, though when I drew nearer to the house I caught sight of a flame. Throwing the shopping aside I ran to the wooden structure where I found not a soul among the lower levels. When I reached the third floor I heard many screams originating from the floor above. Soon, on the fourth floor, I finally found the source of it all. As I walked across the threshold I saw my master upon the floor, a roaring fire now blazing through out the room, no doubt the flames I had seen out side. I stood there in shock, about a dozen maids and man servants rushing bucket after bucket of water to the scene around me, that was until I noticed, a loose floor board before the master, a black leather book within. An hour later I brought the master the book without a second thought of reading it myself whilst he was recovering in his bed atop his famous green, gold patterned cloak. He was very curious about what it was doing there and set about reading the whole thing that night. It turns out the fire was started by a passing maid who had been sent to extinguish the candles. A spark had fallen on a curtain without her noticing.

The next morning there was to be an expedition to find a large statue covered in diamonds and anyone who wished to accompany the master had only to sign up. I did so. The day we were due to leave, the book itself was left in my charge. Filled with curiosity, I read the book (or what I could of it). Then due to the over-whelming selfishness it instilled in me, I stole it, planning on finding the statue myself. Leaving Sir Herring to his documents, I hastened to find the statue.”

“The knowledge of a statue covered in diamonds that is the size of a large table can fuel a man’s greed to a titanic extent!” Drake said as the three men before him glared at him with mistrust in their eyes.

“Anyway after four years I managed to form an expeditionary party and set sail for an unknown destination. The book spoke of this island and after the mutiny aboard my ship, led by my first mate, a man called George Kensington. I have been marooned here…”

“Wait a second,” interrupted Crow for the third time, “George Kensington drinks at our Inn. He was the man that told us of the statue!”

“When I asked George for the next destination now that the information in the book had taken me as far as it could and his map in the secret compartment of his sword showed us the entire root to Callador, he decided he would prefer a larger share of the profit once we found the statue, when I refused he persuaded the crew to replace me with him and so they marooned me on this spit of land, though I did manage to steal his sword. That was 1751, nine years ago. Please be sure to give him my compliments upon your return.”

“So where is this sword George spoke of?”

“It fell among the bushes of that swamp forest beneath us. Its sheath broke off from my belt whilst I was hunting.”

“Our idea was that we might start looking for this statue?” Crow asked.

“I am afraid it was so long ago that I cannot remember. I have never opened the secret compartment in the sword. Since I have been marooned I have cared little about the statue. Besides, George never told me where the compartment was on the sword, though I’d imagine it was under one of the many diamonds on the blade. Though as I said, I searched for it very little.” Pierre’s eye’s suddenly lit up.

“As for the book, I used it to fuel the fire years ago. I have been marooned here for a very long time and you are the first friendly vessel to visit this island since my arrival. Little is known to the world of this region of ocean and little would they wish to know.”

“When you say friendly….. There have been others?” began Lafayette.

“There have, mysterious folk come in great numbers. They say they are looking for settlements of other factions unknown to them. They asked me that if I ever found one, that I was to inform them immediately, although how I was to do that I don’t know.”

“Are there any others on the island?” Pierre started.

“There is one other who calls himself the Governor, merely because he chooses to spend his time rebuilding Old Soulless castle in the very heart of the forest, it’s a very odd looking place apparently built long before Daigonians came to settle here, according to the governor.”

After many a conversation, the time came when, if they were to search for the sword before night fall, they must first reach the forest, Argo they bid farewell to Drake and faced the steep decent to the borders of the forest. As they penetrated the mud-engulfed paths of the forest, they began to spot ruins of wrecked run-adrift ships and the remains of empty sunken lifeboats which had no doubt tried to land on the island, until finally the highest cliff began to fade into the distance. As the party approached the heart of the island they planned to find this governor and ask him if he had found the sword. As the men walked on, Pierre thought he had seen something hidden in the shadow, pass between the trees behind him.

“We’ve been looking for this castle for hours,” Crow said.

Suddenly-it happened so quickly. As Crow turned he glimpsed a figure trudging out of the darkness, his body covered in shadow. Soon after, the figure began to raise two sword-wielding hands directed at Pierre.

As Crow shouted, Pierre ducked whilst Lafayette drew his pistol and fired at the figure, it collapsed immediately. But suddenly behind them an axe was thrown across the three to where the figure had stood. The band gasped as the axe thrower came into the lantern light.

“BREEMAN” Crow shouted.

“Look!” Lafayette said as the crawling figure came into the light.

“TORRINGTON!” Crow muttered before he took his last breath. Within Torrington’s left hand there lay a sword of the very descriptions of the Calladorian sword, made of an unknown metal as sharp as the tip of a rapier all around the blade and smothered in diamonds a large red one placed in the very bottom centre of the hilt, though also in a configuration similar to a Roman Gladius. Upon impact with the branches it collided with, it appeared to have kindled a small flame which soon became the size of a bonfire. Upon noticing the flames a nearby ship altered its course and approached the island. Crow moved to seize the hilt of the sword and as he did so also noticed upon Drake’s robes the edge of a book perched in an inner pocket. As Crow approached the book he found it was of the exact description of the book Sir Rupert Herring found. Breeman grabbed hold of Crow and cried, “YOU FOOL, ITS A WONDER YOU’RE STILL ALIVE, HAVING SPENT ALL THAT TIME WITHOUT ME!” Crow tucked the book into his own robes.

“In what direction is the ship?”

“Southwards,” he answered.

“My god, that’s the direction they usually come from.”

As they ran, Crow noticed that they were heading uphill and soon noticed the shape of a large structure on the top of a steep hill. As they drew closer to the top he could make out a large castle partly ruined, but partly built up of not just stone but also of tree branches and huge logs.

“Damn,” Breeman muttered as they gazed over the far-stretching forest where they saw an entire army of men land on the island in armor-plated boats, but a little out to sea a humongous plated battleship fired on a large frigate that began to turn in and out of the swamp-like area, attempting to wriggle free of the chase.

“By the time we get down to the pier they’ll be well out of the way,” Lafayette said enthusiastically. Breeman’s expression changed to a sight of complete horror and fearfulness as he looked up and noticed a shining figure gliding toward the castle.

“GOOD GOD!” he panicked, “THEY’VE SENT HIM.”

“Who?” Crow asked.

“Him, he’s coming.”

“Who, Breeman, whose coming?”

In the group’s eyes the tiny speck of silver slowly grew to the size of the palm of a hand, at first they mistook it for a silver bird, owing to the flapping of its silver-lined cloak, under which there appeared to be a thick material allowing it to glide lower and lower. As it drew closer and landed on a fragment of the castle, they saw it for what it really was. He stood as still as a statue, no part of him moved except for his black silver-lined, roman-like cloak, fastened to sparkling metal armor under a matching helmet covering the whole face of its wearer, except for the gaps in a guard at the front. This was attached to the helmet by its mushroom shaped surroundings, much like a knight’s armor in the early dark ages. Suddenly, as the band started to run, the mysterious figure unsheathed a shining sword resembling Crow’s, leapt off the tall standing fragment of ruin and began to chase the band of men.

Chapter seven THE PHANTOM OF CALLADOR They raced over the battlements and raced through the keep; they stumbled through the moat and trod through the gaps in the walls before he finally caught up with them.

Drake had certainly not been exaggerating when he described the castle as different, not Daigonian. The parts that were not the wooden replacements built by Breeman were of smooth white stone and the castle on the whole was completely symmetrical except of course, for its physical geography it being perched on a cliff.

“Run to the boat!” he ordered the others, “I’ll hold him back.”

And at that he unsheathed the infamous sword and directed it at the approaching masked villain. As the shining blade of the enemy grew near he swished forward his sword in order to block the enemy’s swing. At impact Crow’s sword was hurled out of his hands and fell on the crafted white stone that lay around him as the haunting figure flew to make another pass. Then, as if fatefully, an idea came into Crow’s mind. The rotted, what appeared to be wooden surface beneath him was ready to fall, if he were to but lay his foot upon the very edge of the longest broken plank the remainder of the platform would founder. As the mysterious stalker charged for another pass Crow so suddenly fell forward, allowing the impact on the edge of the plank to force him to the ground. The sound of broken wood falling to the mudded grass was followed by the rustle of the mystery attacker smashing into the already weak wall. Seconds after, he charged at his opposition, his sword stretched in front like a spike moments before the wall collapsed to the ground. The impact caused him to be thrown into an oak tree which brought him to the ground as a number of other trees, brought down by the crippled oak, fell upon him. As Crow brought himself up and stumbled out of the ruins and into the vicinity of the forest he was still dazed after his fall. The distance from the planked stone wall to the ground was much further than it had originally looked.

He gazed at where the body of his previous adversary lay hidden under the remnants of the oak trees to find no sign of stirring. BUT WAIT! The branches of the fallen trees began to move as trunks themselves began to unsettle. A look of sheer horror appeared on Crow’s face as he gradually realized. The mysterious attacker was not dead, merely trapped under the surrounding fallen forest. Crow paused in astonishment for a few seconds, then realizing the situation of his foe began to run in the direction of the pier after recovering Drake’s old sword from the rubble of the fallen wall. He had made almost two thirds of the journey and was limping over the very perimeter of the forest when he heard a great crackling noise. He turned to the towering hill and laid eyes on many branches hurling into the air. His pursuer had obviously broken free.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” the others asked whilst preparing one of the invading armies’ armored landing craft.

“We’ll have to take one of theirs,” Pierre shouted. “They sank ours.”

Over the next few minutes everything went by design. The boat was pushed into the water before the four of them boarded her and began to paddle away from the island. That was until Pierre noticed about five hundred soldiers’ crossbows of some sort peering over the top of the cliff. Suddenly, as the enemy soldier’s crossbow-like weapons came to Bear, the enemy fired a single volley of what appeared to be lit up red bullets of which one plummeted to the edge of the stolen armored boat starting a small fire. A moment later however a volley of cannons collided with the cliff causing its smooth surface to collapse and fall onto the pier along with the soldiers. Crow turned to discover the source of the cannons and, unsurprisingly, found smoke rising from the gun ports of the Centaur. As delighted faces lit up within the armored boat, Crow’s expression turned to unparalleled horror as his eyes fixed upon the sight of the enormous warship he had seen earlier from the swamp forest sneaking silently toward the Centaur while its attention was fixed on them.

“Hurry” Crow shouted to the others as they began to notice, in sheer shock, the enemy craft after having hurriedly put out the fire.

It only took a few minutes to board the Centaur in which the enemy vessel had gained little upon them.

“Clear for action!” Crow ordered, “But keep the portholes closed. I want to give the impression that we haven’t noticed them yet.”

Then, after a long deep pause, he ordered the ship to turn completely about, its stern scraping the bow of the armored vessel. The two ships were now side by side! BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, went the guns of the Centaur as the enemy ship steered into position. It was a glorious moment, smoke rose from the cannons as the crew realized each and every shot had hit! But to Crow’s utter amazement not a scratch was marked upon the enemy’s hull for it was completely protected by the metal plating upon it.

Immediately he gave the order to withdraw, but it was too late, the enemy ship opened fire. Pierre counted at least fifty cannons firing at them. As he gazed at the crippled deck, he managed to reach the helm and steer the ship away from the direction of fire. He ordered the ship to limp away as fast as possible and after about five minutes of chasing lost the enemy ship by heading through some luckily found fog. The Centaur was a wreck. Luckily she wasn’t sinking as the hull had not been breached but the enemy had concentrated most fire on the deck and its rigging, though many of the ship’s boats had been detached also, including the armored landing craft the four of them had just acquired. It was covered in rope tackle and sail that had fallen from above, occasionally smashing through the deck into the lower levels.

“We need to stop somewhere for repairs,” Lafayette said, “We can’t carry on like this.”

“Where?” Crow asked, “There isn’t land anywhere for miles around except for Bear Soulles and that’s swarming with an invasion force.”

“Where’s that light coming from? Asked Pierre.

“What light this time?” asked Lafayette curiously. Over the erratic waves of the forever stormy ocean there shone an intriguingly unique form of bright light glowing through the dull misty sky.

“It’s not a ship, It’s not moving,” Crow said, “It must be a settlement of some sort.”

“This is an unexplored region,” Lafayette pointed out, “it could be a pirate haven or a smugglers’ den.”

“It may be dangerous,” noted Pierre. Crow took a moment to think on his choices, for if it was a pirate haven he had made many enemies among other pirates and was generally disliked by them, being thought of as too successful and greedy in his findings; but then again, he was a pirate. And what were the other possibilities? That it was the settlement of that invasion force? In either case, the chances were he would be sunk before he even made it to the moorings. Finally, after a few minutes thought, he made his decision.

“We head for the settlement, it’s our only chance. If we stay out here longer than we have to, we’ll sink or die from starvation.”

The crew, who had been summoned to listen, set course in great hurry.

Breeman told Crow, “I think you and I should talk.”

Chapter eight ATRIOS Crow led Breeman to his quarters where he sat in his cushioned armchair and beckoned his old companion to do the same in the chair opposite the table.

“Breeman?” he asked, “What the hell’s going on?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” he replied, “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“So are you,” Crow replied.

“You tell your side of the story first,” Breeman said. So Crow did just that. It took about an hour and a half and left Breeman speechless.

“So that’s why that bastard’s sailing with us. I’m surprised you didn’t shoot him when you laid eyes on him,” Crow said. “I nearly did,” replied Breeman, “but there were more pressing matters at hand.”

“So”, Crow continued, “I’ve said my bit, let’s hear yours.”

“Well, I suppose it starts when I fell from that banister up there.”

“There’s not much I can remember of it after all this time. Though what I did remember is, you staring at me, shocked as I realized the wound wasn’t mortal and then felt the strength fail within my elbows allowing me to fall to the ocean. Next thing I remember I’m swimming out of the mist and noticing Bear Soulless. I look behind me and see the ship being towed out of the mist by Lafayette’s and hearing at least a hundred voices screaming, then crawling onto Soulless, where I met our late friend Drake and declared myself governor of that swampy great mass you call an island. I hoped to spend the rest of my life trying to make a decent home out of that wreck at the top of that hill. And that’s just about all that’s worth mentioning for a few years until one night, as I walk along the battlements I noticed a large boat moored along the pier beneath the hill. I staggered down to it eventually finding the three of you and a moment later Drake, after that,” Breeman continued, “there’s not much worth saying, though I might point out from what you’ve told me, its bloody likely that that army we ran in to were Calladorians, and that it is them who are trying to find this other civilization, which is probably Daigonia.”

“So,” Crow asked “what are you going to do now?”

“’Suppose I’ll stick with you,” said Breeman, “If you’ll let me.”

“We’ll it’s not as if we can just drop you off in Daigoniom!” Crow chuckled. “I suppose we should look for that map in that sword then,” said Breeman before Crow unsheathed the recently acquired sword and began to look for its infamous secret compartment.

Finally, he attempted to unscrew the top of the hilt. It worked, and out slid an old decayed miniature map.

“It’s worn off!” Crow explained to Breeman as an expression of absolute disappointment grew on both there faces. However as both their hopes began to sink Crow suddenly remembered the second item he had stolen from Drake. However, Crow explained to Breeman after describing the events of the last half an hour or so to two very down-trodden faces, I managed to nab the black book Herring was on about and as it’s similar to Daigonian I thought Lafayette might be able to decipher enough of it to tell us where to go next. And after another moment or two the all important book was for better or for worse in Lafayettes clutches.

The next day was more tedious than any other day the trio would ever behold; most of the day was struggling with all their might to harness the remaining sails to carry the ship to this anonymous settlement with all speed possible, and the other half was clearing up the damage created by the battle and storing the debris in what room they had left in storage. But soon that was all to end as they glared at the ever larger Settlement upon the horizon with ever growing anticipation and eagerness, steadily drawing to a close as the unique destination became more and more recognizable, until such a time when the last concealing wave drew to a climax and the exterior of the settlement was unmistakable. As Crow’s eyes raised to the brink of the glamorous structure, he gazed upon an enormous wooden pyramid-like platform with many more platforms growing larger and larger until his eyes reached the very foundations of the structure that stood raised high above the waves, minute glimmers of light shining from every window of every house of every platform or level which looked fixed to the solid pillars, and right at the top was a gleaming palace the size and grandness of which was matched by no other.

As he looked down again, Crow set his eyes upon thick wide pillars, the thickest of which stood at the centre and possessed carved out windows and balconies made from logs ending with a port or harbor. This was bustling with vessel after vessel floating on the rippling ocean.

“Bring us in closer!” Crow ordered, distracted by the fine architecture of the glimmering masterpiece but most of all the harbor. Everything from the pillars to the banisters of the decks all possessed both wood, and more uniquely, detailed carvings covering the entire surface of every object.

The size and scale of the platforms ahead began to enlarge as they moved closer until finally together with a loud, clunking noise, the bow of the Centaur softly collided with the boundaries of the harbor. As Crow and the rest climbed their way to the ground from the fallen rigging they used as a substitute for the shattered boarding plank, a tall man with long blond hair scraping the bottom of his neck combed so smooth it shone when facing the horizon now falling over a calm emerald blue ocean beneath a shimmering daytime sun began to approach them.

“Welcome to Atrios, safe haven for all not of the Daigonian government,” he explained. “Which one of you is the Captain of this ship? After a short pause Crow stepped forward.

“Do you wish to trade with us?” the man asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Crow replied.

“Follow me,” the man continued, “and I will take you to the governor.”

The mysterious stranger guided them through the many levels and over the many wooden bridges to the very heart and bowels of the structure. On the centre level of the structure there stood a large building possessing thousands of shiny rifles and swords, each engraved with, of course, more markings.

“All inhabitants of Atrios must surrender any armaments or weapons of any kind until they’re leaving.”

After quickly Consulting with his companions the four of them agreed to hand over their weapons, all except Crow’s sword, as Crow managed to persuade the stranger to let him keep it. Soon after they began to move slowly further and further upwards.

Crow himself was puzzled as to how on earth something like this could exist, except in the very farthest reaches of the known world, and those structures were no more than a quarter the size of this.

“We’re almost there,” the stranger said as the ascent became much more vertical. As Crow slowly brought his head up after gazing through the endless number of houses and streets blocking his sight at the far distant ocean and the miniature sight of the port and his ship, he set eyes on a titanic structure. The palace of the settlers was enormous in both its size and its detailed carvings. The platforms were square shaped, possessing slightly smaller sections half the size in height and three quarters in length and spanning the centre of the sides of the structure which acted as entrances with steep steps climbing to the middle. Here stood the entrance, guarded by yet more large pillars.

“This way,” the guide spoke, as they began the climb up the many stairs of the concluding level. Finally they reached the tall-standing smooth doors of the great building on which the stranger tapped. The door seemed to unlock itself, giving way to the spectacular, though slightly dimly lit, interior. As the four were guided through the seemingly mysterious entrance hall, they noticed small lanterns that seemed to glow with a familiar bright light, illuminating a fairly small section of the colossal room and revealing pillar after pillar that held up the ceiling and held it in place. The men now entered the next room which contained a towering spiral staircase which possessed a thousand steps. At the end they found a small room where the others were all instructed to wait as Crow proceeded to the final level of the building.

Chapter nine THE FOUNDERING OF ATRIOS Crow rose from the surface of the next level, via a much smaller mini spiral staircase that led to an open space, much like a bird cage, from where you could see for miles around, even as far as Bear Soulless itself. Near the brink of this circular structure a man, wearing robes not dissimilar from Lafayettes, stood. “Hello,” Crow muttered in a low pitched voice, while slowly walking closer and closer to the silent figure that was still facing toward the ocean. He seemed to have not even noticed Crow’s hailing. After many frustrating moments an impatient Crow finally grabbed the man by the shoulder and thrust him to face him, when the shock of what he saw made him almost fall from the great structure. The man seemed to be missing an eye!

“Who…Who are you?” he asked, noticing now the differing qualities of the Lafayette-like garments and the mysterious man’s facial appearance. He had short brown hair, a Daigonians general uniform dyed grey-green and a tri-corn hat, much like Lafayette’s.

“I am Admiral Muras, the governor and military commander of this now liberated port and head of the rebel force of Daigonia. Our scouts tell me there is a Daigonian fleet coming to try and take back this settlement. I suggest you leave immediately.”

“I can’t,” Crow replied. “My ship is too badly damaged. We can’t leave.”

“There’s no time to repair your ship. They’re approaching the harbor; you’ll just have to take your chances.”

The general pointed to the ocean. “There they are,” he said.

And there it was, a fleet of over a dozen warships bearing the same features as that of the Daigonians, loomed ahead of the panicking inhabitants of the harbor. Crow heard a large ring in his ears and turned back to the general.

“The warning bell has already been rung,” he continued. “They will stop at nothing to reclaim this, their most vital source of trade.”

Crow lowered his eyes to the bowels of the structure where soldier after soldier was running from the barracks to strategically placed sandbags. They were armed with muskets, powder guns and bayonets; some were towing row after row of cannons. Little did the soldiers heed the first cannon pounding the towering structure when both sides felt fear as the flames of the ravage set alight the pillars. Atrios shall founder!

Suddenly, great flames scorched the harbor as the enemy vessels’ cannons came to bear upon the piers and embankments. In retribution, the cannons beneath Crow fired upon the unknown ships after which appeared, unscathed and raised, large green flags the details of which Crow could not make out but could easily guess. Meanwhile, the flames of the scorching harbor were moving ever closer to the now completely repaired Centaur.

“That was quick,” Crow began, “’Must have taken hundreds of workers to repair her so quickly.”

But soon the flags found their way to the centre of his thoughts again. As though he read his mind, Muras presented from the insides of his robes a small telescope which he handed to Crow who proceeded to gaze through its lens. The shock of this sight should have frozen the very fingers holding the cylinder as he stared upon hundreds of vessels around the port being shot at and sunk. Beneath the flag of the command ship there appeared different colored ribbons, communicating a message to the port. As Crow began to make out what it meant, his sorrows began to sink, the message read MESSAGE RECEIVED AND UNDERSTOOD M. LAFAYETTE. Crow could not believe his eyes; yet again they had betrayed him. He had betrayed him. It was Lafayette, it must have been, and he must have been sending messages back to Daigonia informing them of their whereabouts.

“Such a fool I have been!” he thought to himself. Suddenly to the general’s surprise, Crow sped to the door, stumbled down the spiral stair case into the great hall beneath where he found Pierre and Lafayette staring through the window into the battle beyond while Crow, all rationality swept aside, in uncontrollable rage, leapt from the ground towards a stunned Lafayette whose back was turned. Just as Crow’s arms broadened, Lafayette was completely swept off his feet and on to the hard flooring beneath him.

“You knew this would happen,” he screamed. But at that very moment a hail of shrapnel flew into Crow’s side from the stricken wooden pillar beside them, forcing Crow to the ground and allowing Lafayette to find his feet and unsheathe his sword, its tip scraping Crow’s throat.

“You really think we wanted ‘you’ to find the statue!” Lafayette responded.

“Of course I knew this would happen; I made this happen,” he continued as the surrounding party stood in disbelief. “As you and your valiant crew sailed and limped your way here, I have been revealing, to the closest Daigonion ship, every last aspect of our little expedition from Daigonia to Bear Soulless and this rebel fortress, via the ribbon communication system on the Centaurs masts, at night whilst most of the crew were asleep.”

Crow had by this point managed to retain his feet under the close proximity of Lafayette’s blade.

“Why this way?” he asked. “Why did you send me after it? Why didn’t you try to find it yourselves?”

“Because the council agreed that you were likely to have more success than any professional we could have employed. And thus to assure them of your dedication they sent me with you.”

Lafayette’s eye’s gleamed as they once did on a cold misty night many years ago.

“However, due to my guidance, or rather your guidance, my fleet has now found what it believes to be the settlement in which the artifact is contained and shall regain its course for it, once it is done with these Rebels.” After I deciphered the book last night I informed a nearby Digonian ship in deliberate proximity.

Meanwhile, as the two rivals quarreled, collapsing beams and wooden splinters collided with the barely stable houses and buildings of the structure, flames ignited by the wooden shrapnel blazing out on all of the levels of Atrios, their heat forcing the Rebels from there few remaining barricades. Half the harbor had been over run, the other half flooded with soldiers and cavalrymen fleeing to the overcrowded ships of the Rebel fleet, thick musket smoke blinding many soldiers’ way, the fumes from the fires suffocating many, forcing them off the sides of the harbor and ships.

“The book was written in a tongue recently discovered to be the foundations from which the Daigonian language was derived, and used by the origins of our entire culture and nation,” Lafayette continued, smoke both from musket and flame rising over, engulfing the pinnacle level on which they stood.” I have since learnt what is known of the language myself.” Trumpets sounded all around them, the signal played by them being that of a Rebellion retreat.

The rage in Crow’s eyes became apparent once more. However, at that very moment, a misdirected volley of cannon hit the central pillar holding the structure afloat.

“As for you,” Lafayette’s eyes fixed upon Crow, “I will now do what I longed to do, many years ago.”

There was a short pause as Lafayette positioned his sword into the dueling position.

“Pick it up,” Lafayette demanded, pointing to his opposition’s sword which now lay in its sheath. But at that moment, as Crow hastily swung up his sword in order to meet Lafayette, the great beams of the level gave way as the great foundations of the structure wavered then collapsed, forcing it to the depths.

Crow felt a great shock as he collided with a large mass of debris detached from the main hub of wreckage whilst it fell to the ocean, thus minimizing his impact upon it. The whole port was going under; as he looked around him he saw vast numbers of soldiers of both factions hurling themselves on to the remaining wreckage, away from the suction threatening to drag them beneath the rippling surface. As he gazed to his right he saw Pierre grappling to the almost vertical wreckage with his fingernails, then clambering onto the flat area of the debris. There they both sat watching the surviving rebel fleet sail away the direction, opposite that of the Daigonians, but between the two fleets there sailed a large Frigate that seemed to have survived the pounding of the enemy cannons upon the port and the destruction that followed and, by the looks of it, was intent on picking up survivors. As the ship turned, the two stranded profiteers made out the engraving, Centaur, upon the ships aft. Immediately the two brothers flung their arms in the air as the ship began to head toward them and half an hour later they were reunited with their crew.

And there was Breeman who had apparently managed to clamber onto the vessel shortly after the collapse of Atrios. They set a pursuing course on that enemy Daigonian fleet, mostly made up of large warships, weighed down with cannons and ammunition, explained Breeman hastily.

“We can catch up to them in an hour or so if we’re lucky, Captain!” hailed one of the leading crew members. “The sails have been heavily torn by the shrapnel from the port. We’ll be lucky if we can catch up to them in a day or so. Besides we have run out of supplies and ammunition.”

At this point there was a short pause.

“What do you suggest we do?” Crow asked.

“There’s a strong wind to the south. If we turn around now we can make the rebel fleet by midnight.”

After another slightly longer pause, the order was given to do just that.

Chapter ten TREASON “What a fool I have been!” shouted a restless Crow within his cabin that night after a lengthy and pointless search for the infamous black leather book now used by Lafayette to betray them, “To trust a man, deceitful by nature.”

“He deceived us all Cedric,” Pierre explained.”

“One thing is certain,” Crow continued, “if we are to seek the statue, which we are, we will almost certainly find Lafayette and when we do, I ‘m going to kill him.”

“Captain!” shouted a voice from above. “The Rebel fleet is in viewing distance,” the voice continued, “It seems to have laid anchor in the ocean.”

“Coming!” replied Crow.

It seemed below freezing that night; the deck was slippery with frost. Ahead lay a vast collection of immobile ships, their sails bound to their masts. Surrounding the fleet was an uncomfortable bluish mist.

“Twenty degrees starboard!” Crow ordered as the ship maneuvered it’s way through the crowd of other ships, its white flag of truce flapping in the breeze until such a point as they spotted what appeared to be the tallest of all the ships present, which they figured would most probably be the flagship, and lay alongside it.

“And who might you be?” chuckled a man wearing a dyed grey-green Daigonian uniform.

“Cedric and Pierre Crow and Breeman, of the Centaur.”

On hearing such a sentence the Rebel officer quickly directed them to the Admiral’s cabin.

“Captain Crow and company, the Rebel officer announced, Admiral Muras!” The Admiral greeted them as the party of three, Crow, Pierre and Breeman, sat down in the three spare seats around the large circular table in the centre of the room abundant with many high ranking officers both naval and army.

“Our spy in Lafayette’s fleet has just returned. He claims the Daigonians are now in possession of the artifact you were searching for and that their fleet is now heading back to Daigoniom.”

At this moment Crow lowered his head as his hopes began to sink.

“How long ago?” he asked.

“A good few hours ago, from what I hear from the spy.” He described a large gleaming castle on the ocean surface, built of white marble, its outer walls preventing the ocean from submerging its inner structures. The chamber of the artifact itself seemed to be built of much the same material, possessing many flags and quilted tapestries, gold trumpets and a large red quilted ouster in which lay the artifact. Unfortunately he said he didn’t get a good view of the artifact itself as the soldiers present there covered it in a large quilt shortly after entering the chamber.

The room fell silent for a short while as the attending Admirals, generals and Captains set their eyes upon their leader.

“Captain,” the Admiral finally began, “this council has just decided that, as we have now been driven from our capital fortress, an act which has crushed our supply lines, it has unanimously decided to bring a short end to this war once and for all while its armies and navies still exist and march upon the national capital! As the artifact you seek is heading for Daigonia, and as you have much experience in naval warfare, we are offering you 25,000 Diagonals to take part in the battle on our side!”

There was once again a long pause around the room. “That’s treason!” shouted Crow.

“From what I have gathered, you may have already been re-branded a traitor,” commented the Admiral.

“We’ll never see the tavern again,” Pierre began.

“Not unless we win,” the Admiral continued.

Crow sat there quietly for a few moments, thinking the offer over until curiosity slipped into his mind once more.

“Why are you fighting this war in the first place?” he asked. The Admiral’s face froze as the many officers’ faces around them grew weary in the candle light. Crow turned his head to face him once more.

“If we are to fight a war, we must know for what cause we fight.”

The only sound was of the rumbling of the table and chairs as the Admiral dismissed his staff. Once the room was cleared the Admiral massaged his eyes and looked up again.

“Twenty years ago an emergency session of the Grand Council was held,” the Admiral began. “It was a murky night; there was so much rain in the streets of Daigoniom that they looked more like rivers than streets. Upon entering the chambers there were seldom many happy faces as, it being after midnight, many councilors had been woken for the session, much like myself. Moments later, those seated in the chamber saw a rain-drenched army officer enter the chamber and pause in the centre of the room.

“Representatives of the republic,” he announced, “I have been appointed to inform you of the death of Sir Harold Wilmon, Consul of Daigonia!”

Roars of disbelief swept round the room.

“It is believed that he died in his sleep due to natural causes,” the officer continued. “It is therefore required of this council that it should elect a new Consul.”

At this point, the speaker of the council took over as mediator when the officer left the chamber.

“The councilors who lost the last election were as follows: Alexander Xavier, Timothy McNeil and Robert Cesselthwait. Councilor Xavier,” the speaker continued, “do you wish to stand for election?”

“I do,” the politician answered. Though as the speaker asked the other councilors they immediately answered, “No!” after a hard stare from Xavier, Lafayette by his side, a mite younger looking, I might add.

“Very well,” the speaker spoke again, “one candidate chosen, no vote required. Alexander Xavier is declared Consul of Daigonia! Does anyone wish to speak?” the speaker continued; a few moments of silence lingered, “Very well, session ended.”

Many Councilors left the chamber in complete disbelief as to how Xavier had come about becoming Consul that night. The ex-Councilor continued, “Little did we know how justified those doubts would come to be. Over the next two decades he gradually built a personal dictatorship over the Council at which point I, and a few other Councilors, persuaded a good quantity of Generals and Admirals to rebel and have done so for the last two years. Two weeks ago we received news that Xavier was to dissolve the Council and to declare himself Emperor in a week’s time. Argo, we intend to sail back in time for that session. Also,” the Admiral paused, “we have also been told that Lafayette will assassinate Xavier and take his place in a Coup that day. Thus is our present situation.”

Crow began to pace the room at the end of this conversation. After a minute or two of pacing he turned to the Admiral. “25,000 Daigonals you say, and repaired sails?” the Admiral added. “Done.”

Chapter eleven THE BATTLE OF DAIGONIOM It was a clear but morbid night when the Rebel fleet sailed just short of the docks of Daigoniom and prepared to engage the blockading enemy fleet.

“Our orders are to await the signal to charge full sail right through the enemy fleet and upon doing so make for the dock side and storm the city, at which point the armies awaiting on the east and west flanks will assault the city,” Crow explained to the others. Suddenly a loud horn emanating from the flag ship signaled the order to charge, while many a cannon fired from the enemy fleet shattering their opponents’ hulls, masts and decks. Ship after ship fell to the depths as the flood of Rebel vessels collided with its enemy. Crow grasped the trigger of his pistol as the inhabitants of enemy vessels came into sight, shooting dead many a marine. Suddenly, a large warship swung to intercept the Centaur and came side by side, firing shrapnel onto its deck, cutting loose much of the rigging. This was followed by a round of cannon shots from the Centaur into its enemy, causing its masts to topple, leaving it motionless.

Finally the ship broke through the Daigonian blockade along with many a landing craft. Eventually it reached the dockside, its cannons blazing into the crumpled stone surrounding the enemy soldiers, while grappling hooks hurled the men onto the embankments, at which point many artillery pieces were heard firing from the east and west. Crow leapt upon the embankments as three Daigonian soldiers, charging at him, ran down the shrapnel-ridden steps. The first tripped on Crow’s foot and fell into the ocean; the second’s bayonet was sliced off its musket and turned on its master while the third fell on his opponent’s sword. And so it continued until such a time when the Daigonian’s, chased off by the Rebel soldiers, were in full retreat from the docks. Crow, Pierre and Breeman forced their way into one of the surrounding artillery towers and gazed over the surrounding battle.

You could hear nothing but the sound of cannons firing as the Rebels pounded the Imperialist fleet to the bottom of the ocean as the captured dock defenses were turned on the defenders. From the east and west the sound of Rebel trumpets grew closer as floods of fleeing green soldiers stormed the streets. Dead ahead, the pursuing Rebel forces could smell the scent of victory as the surprised and overwhelmed Imperialist cavalry fell upon the muskets of the Rebel musket men. The three stood there for a few moments, smirking at the apparent ease the Capital, which they had fought for so long, had fallen. As the surrounding smoke gradually lifted, a building of great size gradually came into view, THE PALACE OF THE GRAND COUNCIL!

“If we climb over these buildings to avoid the street battles, we could still reach it,” Pierre stated. And so they quickly leaped off the tower and onto a surrounding building, from which they leapt to another building, as one after another Daigonian soldier shot or charged at them, narrowly escaping one shell blast after another, until finally reaching a landslide of debris. This led them to street level in the square before the palace. The three of them fought their way to the great steel doors, the battle raging around them.

Miraculously, the doors had been left unbarred and easily opened. Within the cathedral-like entrance hall visited earlier by the brothers, there now lay many Daigonian flags, hanging upon the walls around them. It was decorated variously. There were different rugs, different statues (now all of Xavier), and, at the far end of the room lay among many other things, a large gold statue of a man of great size. Its eyes were of two blue diamonds, its mouth of many red and white diamonds, and at the very centre of its chest, lay a large red diamond, encased in gold scaffold upon its creases and bends, in the shape of a heart.

“This is it,” murmured Crow, “this is the statue we have sought.”

The three turned once more to the extravagant decorations of Xavier. As they did so, an old humpbacked cripple who possessed an old walking stick revealed himself from behind the statue and raised a dagger in one hand and turned it on the backs of the trio.

As the rugged end of the blade was plunged into Breemans back he let out a high pitched wail, the two brothers immediately rushing to his aid forcing the would be murderer to the ground after Pierre ran him through the chest.

“George Kensington!” Crow cried after coming to his senses and staring at the face of the attacker. “I’m alright”, Breeman said;” it didn’t penetrate too far before you stopped him”.

“Why did you try and kill us”, Crow demanded.

“Its mine, Crow”, George said in a greatly disgruntled voice, almost as if his mortal wound did not matter, “I’ve spent the best part of my life looking for this statue. So has everyone who has sought it, it was your greed that led you to this end, as it has also drawn me here”.

And in his last few moments, he reached out his arm to the foot of the statue and uttered, I found it, its mine. The room grew silent.

Then suddenly, there came a noise from down the corridor beside them. They traced its origin and appeared in a vast circle/star sun-draped room, THE CHAMBER OF THE GRAND COUNCIL. The noise had originated from a near-dead soldier, one of many in the room. These were accompanied by a handful of dead Councilors, close to whom lay, in the centre of the chamber, Xavier, as cold as stone, and as white as snow. A knife lay deep in his chest, a signature upon its hilt reading: MONTGOMERY LAFAYETTE! Chapter twelve THE SINKING OF THE CENTAUR Crow’s eyes glimmered with astonishment. A few moments later, there came the banging of many battalions’ boots as the rebels stormed the palace and the chamber, Admiral Muras at the head.

“We’re too late then,” the Admiral asked rhetorically.

“It appears so,” Crow replied.

The four of them stood for a while gazing over the bloody scene.

“It’s a victory.” the Admiral stated, with a murmur of defeat. “Many buildings are burning; many monuments shelled to pieces; the houses on the hills surrounding the city have been ransacked by the retreating Imperialists. Our tavern is in the hills surrounding the city.”

Pierre interrupted the Admiral, “By the sounds of it, not any more.”

Crow shouted. “Look!”

A curious Admiral pointed to a large trickle of blood beside Xavier, leading to one of the many doors exiting the chamber.

They searched the palace many times for sight of Lafayette, but there was none. The fading trickle of blood leading outside of the palace reduced to nothing. The next few hours went quickly as the Admiral presented them with their 25,000 Diagonals and the statue they had embarked to discover. In the knowledge that their tavern was no more, and as the evening was still young, the three of them settled down with some wine, after the remainder of the evening had been used to smash up the statue and split the profits between them and the crew, there being no Xavier led government to cough up to, they set sail and left the city, the crew having agreed to stay on.

“Come this time next week we shall all be eating the finest foods in the Caribbean and living out the rest of our days in plentiful luxury,” Pierre stated before gulping down an entire bottle of wine and lobbing it back.

“Here, here!” Breeman shouted. Crow, meanwhile staring at the centre of the table, was hard at thought.

“Take the statue if you wish, retire to the Caribbean. I would be no more content in the Caribbean than if I were to remain in these waters with the Centaur, as I have done for the best part of my life.”

And upon those words came the lengthiest, most terrible moment of silence the three had ever known.

“We should talk more on this in the morning,” Pierre muttered. “In the meantime, it’s been a busy night and I am fighting to stay awake.”

“Same here,” Breeman agreed, and at that, the two left the room, leaving Crow to further pondering….. BOOM!

Suddenly Crow was whisked off his chair and thrown backwards, surrounded by flames from heated shrapnel. Slowly he got to his feet, scarred by the fragments of glass beneath him. As he stumbled out of his Cabin, a burnt black corpse, bearing the indisputable resemblance of BREEMAN, appeared before him! Crow rushed to the side of his former comrade as he lay dead upon the deck.

“Funny what a handful of gun-powder can do, isn’t it Crow?”

As he clamped eyes upon his life-long enemy, a hatred was ignited within Crow that had never arisen before.

“Lafayette!” he cried, as he observed the wreckage before him. The entire deck was aflame; all but one of the sails had collapsed, gaping holes leading to the depths in their place. The deck was filling with crew who were escaping overboard or onto the landing boats. Crow drew his pistol and sword. Lafayette drew for his pistol.

“CEDRIC!” shouted a voice much like Pierre’s. Immediately Lafayette’s target altered to his opponent’s brother.

“Send him away,” Lafayette muttered.

“RUN TO THE BOATS!” Crow hailed to his brother, “I’LL FIND YOU THERE.”

And at that, his brother disappeared into the smoke-infested deck. There was a long pause at this point, then, the two men dispensed with their pistols and directed their swords. Suddenly, the flame devoured ship gave a turbulent shudder sideward, letting loose the remaining landing boats and unsteadying the two duelers, at which point the pirate made his move. The two slashed at each other with such hatred and arrogance, and with such speed, they cared little for the doom surrounding them, with each of them falling into the collapsed rigging. Finally, Crow gained the upper hand, knocking Lafayette’s sword into the air, and with a final lunge, committed Lafayette to the depths via the gaping hole in the centre of the vessel. Suddenly, the gunpowder store exploded, obliterating Crow and the remains of the ship. A good hundred meters away from the collapsed burning wreck sat Pierre, overcome with grief as he tugged on the blanket covering him. Though as he did so, he felt a large lump of something within his pocket, and as he opened the quilt to clap eyes on his discovery, there appeared to him, glimmering scarlet, the shade of which was identical to the heart of the long sought statue.

THE END