The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen (12 page)

“I want my crew and ship! If I sense even the slightest whiff of treachery on your parts, I will snuff out the life of this dandy as quickly as you can say ahoy. Have we an accord, my fine fellows?”

“Nay! I will not bargain with the likes of you!”

“We dare not provoke her, Sergeant—that’s Milady Vixen! She’ll do what she says,” a trembling private uttered.

“He has the right of it,” she sneered. “My course is locked and my fate fixed. I care not to die, but to take a coward such as this with me would make dying sweet indeed.”

“All right, all right, you sea-harlot—we have an agreement!”

Vixen grinned with absolute delight.

I cannot possibly do justice to the parade that wound its way from the keep to the docks of Purdy-on-the-Sea. Suffice it to say the population of the harbor city were astonished and struck dumb, for at the head of it was a proud, naked brown woman holding a pistol to the forehead of the royal who watched over them. Equally disconcerting was the way he shuffled along, his hands clenching his loins, giving them all pause to wonder what had happened. Rumors ran like stray barking dogs for many a week. Most reviled Milady Vixen for possibly depriving Duke Popinjay of the ability to sire heirs, while others suggested the female pirate had all but twisted off the royal’s manhood with a snap of her thick thighs. In hushed whispers in many a darkened tavern this tale was told. However, the duke had three strapping boys and one dull-eyed daughter after his meeting with Vixen. Most of the Effingham gentry did well not to delve too deeply into their heritage.

The right of it is this; Vixen did emasculate yon duke, but by use of her bare feet. His line came to a halting, sudden stop. How do I know? Unlike those ale-soaked gossipers, I went to the source, which is why you know the truth. I pray you keep it a secret, for the heirs of Popinjay would have you whipped for spreading the tale. Don’t worry about me—I am well versed in escaping those who seek to silence me. I have evaded the noose too many a time to mention. Fear not for my old hide; I see all their plots and plans despite only possessing one eye.

Raising Tankards, Sails and Hell

Pirate’s Cove was aptly named. Hidden in the mist-shrouded islands off the coast of the Free Nation of Balzac, it was a known haven for buccaneers, scalawags and filibusters of all races and creeds. The knife-like harbor cut into the isle, permitting only one ship at a time to enter or exit. High mountains ranged the other sides, making it almost impossible to invade. A rough and rowdy town grew up in this port, and it was a safe place for pirates of all sorts to dock, refit and re-arm. Additionally, a lucrative black market of stolen goods sprang up.

In this town, known as Last Chance, there was an inn of dark repute named The Seasick Parrot. I believe I’ve mentioned it in passing before. As our tale continues, The Parrot was currently enjoying a docking of many buccaneer vessels, one of those being the
Sea Fox.

The pub’s occupants were in a rollicking, carefree mood. Upon the stage a pipe, organ and drum filled the smoky inn with a merry tune. Vixen and Ginger Tom sat at their table, both with their backs to the wall. Laughing, they listened to the song recounting Vixen’s latest exploits. Tapping her foot to the sailor’s jig, she found herself smiling wider at each refrain.

There was a pirate lass, Milady Vixen was her name.

Bold and daring, fierce of heart was her claim to fame.

Sword in hand she did her best, plunderin’ the briny deep.

Many a sailor she did send to Davy Jones to sleep.

Vixen! Vixen! Her heart ever true!

Vixen! Vixen! Sailed upon the blue!

Now Effingham did hate this lass, and many ships did sail.

Captured her and her brave crew, to send beyond the pale.

But Vixen feared not, she was made of tougher, sterner stuff.

Saying her demise was nothing but a royal’s bluff.

Vixen! Vixen! A pirate through and through!

Vixen! Vixen! Sailed upon the blue!

She captured Duke Popinjay, a pistol to his head.

“Stay back ye lubbers, ere he dies,” to all the guards she said.

Parading through the town was she, naked and yet free.

Sailed merrily from port and dumped the duke into the sea.

Vixen! Vixen! From Effingham she flew!

Vixen! Vixen! Sailed upon the blue!

The musicians slowed the tempo of the song while cheering pub goers thrust tankards and cups of grog and rum into the air. Most of them were pirates with no love of Effingham in their lusty hearts.

Now we hoist up all our cups, to hail this pirate lass.

Effingham is everywhere with cannon and spyglass.

To capture her once again, ever be their wish.

Better luck, methinks they’d have, trying to smoke a fish.

Vixen! Vixen! Gave Effingham the screw!

Vixen! Vixen! Sailed upon the blue!

“It’s a pretty good ditty, don’t ye think?” Tom laughed.

“Aye, it does the tale of our escape justice,” Vixen answered.

There was a thud of boots as footsteps headed toward their position, causing both of them to leave behind their enjoyment of the song. Gazing into the smoky atmosphere of the pub, they saw six well-armed and dangerous sea-dogs sauntered up.

Their apparent leader was a towering hulk of a man with a dark black beard covering most of his scarred and tanned face. A heavy cutlass swung at his hip, and crossed pistols hung above his belt buckle. One of his eyes was milky and unseeing. It rolled around in a crazed manner, as if he had no control over it. This was Cap’n Jeremiah Black, otherwise known as Crazy Eye.

Beside him stood a skinny, foppish man who barely came up to Crazy Eye’s shoulder but seemed no less dangerous. The lavender captain’s hat sitting on his oiled curls was twisted at a jaunty angle and adorned with sparkling rhinestones. A slim rapier bumped musically at his side due to the silver bells dangling off its sheath. His name was Cap’n Percival Dandy, or just Lavender the Pirate.

Accompanying Lavender and Crazy Eye were Captains Jake O’Toole, Margo the Harlot, Pickled Pete and Red-Faced Kate, all pirates of some renown. Like Vixen, they all wore prices on their heads from a variety of nations and mercantile companies for acts of bloody-handed plundering. Dragging chairs over to Vixen’s table, they sat down with a mixture of hard and quizzical expressions plastered over their faces. For a moment nobody spoke, each eyeing up the competition and wondering silently for what they had been summoned.

“Aye, what be the manner in which you find yourself calling us to this meeting, Milady Vixen?” Crazy Eye rumbled. “The lot of us have heard the tale of your escape. Do ye seek to use ye newfound fame to enter the Brotherhood?”

“Perhaps,” Vixen answered. “If’n ye agree to my induction, I have a lucrative offer that might interest ye.”

“Bah!” Margo the Harlot snapped, “I have offers enough to keep me occupied without consulting the likes of you.”

“I somehow doubt she speaks of a hold full of thick-cocked lovers to quench that lusty appetite of yours.” Lavender snickered.

“Perhaps she has more perfumed boys instead! That’d be right up ye alley, you pompous ass!”

“Such crude language from a semi-reformed guttersnipe. I will not dignify your accusations with comment.”

“Because it’s true, you lubber!”

“Stow that talk!” Crazy Eye snarled, silencing the other two ship commanders.

“My reasons for calling ye here are my own, but I will divulge them presently,” Vixen said with a smile. “I, like your esteemed selves, carry a hefty reward on my head by several nations. Instead of choosing to pick the spot of my demise, or retiring, I have decided to wage war against Gaston and Effingham. With a hearty band of scalawags and their brave captains, we can pick clean the two nations and set them upon each other with a vengeance. I propose this as an accord; we dress up our vessels and Jack Tars in the likes of the opposing ships and plunder to our hearts’ content. Flying the colors of Gaston against Effingham and vice versa, we can keep ‘em busy with one another and still pluck their merchant vessels clean. What say ye?”

“That’s insanity!” Lavender tittered.

“If’n ye don’t have the stomach for it, then shove off!” Pickled Pete stated. “Methinks Vixen’s proposal has merit, it does. Long have I yearned to tug the beard of that foolish king of Gaston!”

“I see the right of this as well.” Red-Faced Kate grinned. “We need not band together and pick out an overall commander, just stay in touch and raid the opposing ships. So involved in their new war, they cannot hope to guard their supply ships. I know not what ye other freebooters think, but Vixen, I’d be of a mind to accept ye offer.”

“That is all well and good,” Jack O’Toole drawled. “How can the likes of us impersonate Gaston and Effingham so well?”

“Surely you have not plundered supply ships before,” Cap’n Crazy Eye said. “Strip the Marines and crew, wash up their duds and supply them to ye own coxswains. Aye, Vixen! I see great profit in this.”

“So it’s settled?” the brown-skinned beauty inquired.

“Aye!” Crazy Eye, Kate and Pete said in unison.

“Ye will bring down the wrath of them both upon us!” Lavender squealed.

“If’n the likes of ye are too timid to join,” Margo the Harlot laughed, “then count me in!”

“What say you, Cap’n Jake? Ye have not spoken yer piece,” Tom queried.

“We must take care to the lengths we assault yon vessels, lest we evoke the wrath of both kingdoms upon us. However, I see the potential for amassing vast amounts of booty to balance the scales,” the normally silent man spoke slowly. “Before I throw my lot and my crew’s in with ye, I would know further details about this here accord.”

“Aye, the details!” Pickled Pete thundered like a cannon.

“’Tis a simple plan.” Vixen smiled like a predator. “Ye know how best carried out simple plans be. We split up our ranks—half to attack Effingham and the remainder to assault Gaston. We meet back here on Pirate’s Cove at the beginning of the month to spy out our efforts and coordinate the next wave of piracy. If’n it gets too hot upon the waves, we just cease our pillaging and no one be the wiser.”

“Still think yonder captain’s plan is daft?” Crazy Eye said to Lavender.

“It be dangerous, aye! But I see the right of it—though it pains me to agree. I’ll cast my fate in with yours, then.”

“So ye all be with me?” Vixen inquired.

“The Brotherhood accepts ye offer, Milady Vixen.” The scarred hulk chuckled. “Welcome to our little club of the damned. I, the leader of the Brotherhood, do hereby bequeath ye full honors and privileges in our lusty little organization. Anyone wish to dispute her admittance?”

Thus Milady Vixen became a member of the Brotherhood of the Pirates—another feather in the cap of her infamy.

Scared Ship-less

I will not bore you about the war started by the Brotherhood, which pitted Gaston against Effingham, for it is well documented. Needless to say, it was a bloody conflict that ranged for a full decade, and that is a long time and a longer portion of a tale that needs not be told. I will break it down for you thusly. Both nations were drastically weakened due to their military efforts. Many a sailor, soldier and Marine died upon fields or at sea. Civilians naturally perished as well, for ever has been the case during war. However, it is a historical fact that the prime minister of Balzac saw the opportunity to chastise Effingham for many a real or perceived wrongdoing. In short, he launched his own campaign against Vixen’s foster nation.

Remember that oath Vixen—or Violet at the time—took whilst standing at her father’s grave? Despite twenty years having passed, it still remained in effect. These things seem to have a long lifespan, and Providence isn’t as forgetful as an old codger like myself. The time seemed ripe for Vixen to come face to face with her vow.

Now as it happens, even pirates occasionally need to put into land to refresh their larders and stock up on fresh drinking water. The
Sea Fox
was no exception to this rule. It was a clear and crisp fall morn that saw the pirate vessel drop anchor on the border of Balzac and its hated neighbor. Standing on the poop was our heroine, bedecked in buccaneer glory from frizzy mane to well-polished boots. Beside her, as was his custom and choice, stood Ginger Tom.

“I heard Purdy-on-the-Sea was sacked last August,” the red-haired man quipped.

“Aye, and our enemy Duke Popinjay was strung up like a Christmas goose in the city’s square.” Vixen smirked. “I’d have paid a hundred doubloons to witness that sight.”

“I mean not to pry, my Cap’n, but did I hear the sounds of ye retching ere dawn fully broke?”

“Ye be mistaken if’n ye think it was more than just the last sour drops from that ale cask we partook of the previous evening.”

“Aye, that is what I thought it’d be.”

“Sail ho! Ship off the starboard bow!” a pirate shouted from the crow’s nest.

Slapping a spyglass to her eye, Vixen swung it in the direction of the man’s pointed finger.

“What be it?” Tom inquired.

“Aye, it’s a ship all right,” she answered.