Yuletide 2021 at Castle Marsh

Princelings Revolution

Yuletide is always a special time of year, whatever world you live in. I hope you enjoy this story which follows on from Princelings Revolution (but takes place before the bonus story in the paperback). It’s the idea I had for a winter story last year, but needed to wait till the time was right. Enjoy just over 1800 words of your favourite characters.

Princelings Revolution 3d
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Yuletide at Castle Marsh 2021

Fred raised a glass of sparkling Wozna Cola and clinked it with Jasmine’s. “To 2022!”

“Yes, to 2022, Daddy.” She sipped, and looked at the sky through the window to the west. “I hope they land safely.”

“Mmm. Willoughby was confident the weather would hold, even across the Great Western Sea. I hope it’s just another of those magical skills he has.”

Jasmine looked down to hide her smile. Willoughby’s ninja skills did not stretch to weather forecasting. With him on board, though, there was a good chance of avoiding danger before it hit them.

These were strange times. Last Yule she and Willoughby had travelled from Castle Vexstein, now under the rule of Locksley. He was steadily refusing any title such as Lord or King, even though he was of noble birth. A cousin of hers, in fact… or was it second cousin, if he was her father’s cousin, no, brother. Well, half-brother. She shook her head. Fred’s family was so confusing. 

“Troubled, sweet?” Fred asked.

“No, just confused by Locksley’s relationship to me. We were with him just before Yule last year, before we came down to stay with you at the Inn of the Seventh Happiness.”

“Ah, yes. I was there, homeless, and a pauper. I’d just discovered I was penniless a few weeks earlier. And George was fretting about getting the Daughter of Pelican built. And now…”

“Now we are home, the people have chosen you to lead them again, and George has fulfilled the promise you made to Mariusz, who turned out to be Willoughby’s uncle.” 

It was Fred’s turn to nod. “Well, let’s hope we have a nice settled life from now on.”

“You’ll get bored if you don’t have some exciting project to work on.”

“Not as bored as George will be. Improving the flying boats won’t be as much interest for him as designing them and testing them.”

“Daddy… did you realise that technically Willoughby is the same age as me?”

“What! He’s been in the realms since before you were born. Before I met your mother even.”

“Only just. About six months. He and I were born in the same year.”

Fred frowned. “In Hattan, you mean?”

“Yes, then he came down the time tunnel and went back eleven years. So on the one hand he’s a lot older than me, and on the other, we’re the same age.”

“You can’t be both at once.”

Jasmine kept her face expressionless. Willoughby had a way of being anything he wanted to be. It was hard to know who the real Willoughby was, but she probably knew him better than anyone. In fact…

“They’ve just come over the coast south of Caerleon.”

“How do you know these things? Ninja skills, I suppose. I should have stopped him teaching you.”

“I would have had them anyway, just not known how to use them, how to trust them.”

It was Fred’s turn to look out of the window. “I suppose we’d better go out with the launch to bring them in. This wind will push them into the reeds otherwise.”

“So it’s a great honour, and indeed a great pleasure, to have Lord Mariusz with us this year, after all the troubles we’ve been through, and all the patience you’ve had, putting up with George and me and our secret project. But now you all know the truth. And perhaps Mariusz wouldn’t mind saying a few things to you all at our final feast of 2021. Mariusz?”

Fred sat down. 

The huge black and white coat that housed Mariusz, lord of Hattan, rose as its owner got to his feet.

“Ur, well, hi everybody. I was never much of one for speechifying. It’s hard to understand all the changes that have happened in the Realms since I was last here in 2010. I’d been visiting so often in the previous ten years that I thought I knew you all, that it was a settled place, full of partying and socialising. At least, thanks to Wozna,” he raised his glass to them and sipped, “I could get around among you incognito as a simple cola salesman. I enjoyed my visits, and I enjoyed meeting you, or your countrymen, at any rate. I hope everything will settle down in this new way you have of picking your leaders, which sounds pretty good to me. 

“With everything that went on, I’m amazed that Fred and George managed to keep the agreement we made; stop the time tunnel that brought Wozna to you and you wait until the technology George invents catches up with me. Thank you for having me back, and I’m glad to say, sales of Wozna are nearly back to what they were six months ago.” He grinned at them, hoping they understood his joke. “Well, that’s in my time, of course. It’s often hard to keep promises. What you guys have gone through to keep that promise, well, I admire you even more for it. You’re the genuine article, you guys. I’m glad you made it safely through these years.

“And now, can I suggest a toast? To Fred and George!”

The Marshfolk were very happy to toast Fred and George, especially with the Wozna that most of them had never tried in the past, but had decided was a great party drink.

wozna bottles

“Thanks, Jasmine.” Mariusz helped himself to the espressimenta she offered him, as they settled cosily around the fire in Fred’s study. “Yeah, things are changing at Hattan, too. The five families met up last month, after the last grandfather had passed on, and decided to end the war between us. So we’re working on new commercial ties, agreements over trades, sharing apprenticeships, all sorts.”

“Is Saku okay?” George asked. 

“Yeah, he’s well, playing with new ideas. But he naps in the middle of talking about them sometimes. He’s not so young as he used to be.”

“He’s outlived Argon, though. He must be very old.”

Mariusz sighed. “Sad, that. I must get up and visit Victor while I’m here. Will that be okay? Do you have a stage up the tunnel now or anything? I reckon I could never run up and down it like I did in May. Almost the death of me, that was!”

“I can fly you up any time,” George said. “Unless Jasmine and Willoughby want to take you?”

“Willoughby, fly me? I don’t think so!”

“Jasmine’s the pilot, uncle. I’ll just come for the ride. Fred likes her to have supervision still.”

Jasmine smiled. Fred frowned, but checked Jasmine’s face and relaxed.

“You must be very fit, though,” Fred said to Mariusz. “I could never have done all that, even with the time tunnel.”

Mariusz paused. “To be truthful, young Fred, I don’t reckon it did me any good at all. Ever since then I’ve had a bit of an ache in my side, and I don’t think it’s a stitch from exercising.”

“What do your medics say?”

“Oh the usual. ‘Take it easy, don’t work so hard.’ It’s not as if I’m travelling any more.”

Willoughby regarded his uncle, then looked away, a haunted expression in his eyes, which only Jasmine caught. The pair exchanged glances that seemed to contain a whole conversation.

The next morning Fred took Mariusz for a tour of the Marsh, since it was a beautiful mid-winter day with no frost and almost summer-like winds. George took them in the old flying machine so they could go to places like Summernot beach and the old forest. He even flew within sight of Arbor to give Mariusz at least a view of his old holiday spot. 

“Elinor,” Mariusz sighed. “She was quite something.”

Fred had a long thought about time and its effects. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Mariusz about the Huguenots. “We’re good friends with the Arborites now. Things have changed a lot there. You probably never met Queen Rosebud.”

“I thought Jess would have been in charge by now.”

Should he tell Mariusz the whole story? He stared at the trees giving way to the marsh again and decided not. “If we go back now, you can have a light lunch before going up to see Victor. I’d love it if you came back tonight, but I understand if you want to stay over, with all this travelling.”

“I want to make the most of it, Fred. I didn’t want to say in company, but this pain in my side is pretty bad. I doubt I’ll be visiting again. I don’t know what will happen at Hattan when I go, but it needs a good, steady organiser. I know he’s wanted here, but you’ve taught him everything he needs to know about running a complex organisation. I spoke with Willoughby last night about maybe him taking over from me. He’s thinking about it. And he’s family, and that’s important at Hattan.”

Fred nodded. It wasn’t that his guest just wanted to stay home in Hattan. He was preparing to hand over. What would Willoughby say?

flying machine

Mariusz came back from Victor’s the next morning, looking happy but tired. He talked about Victor and his family for a couple of hours, obviously pleased that the young person he’d known since he was a baby had grown into a fine family man with plenty of business ventures running at once. 

“He told me all about your funding crisis for the Daughter of Pelican, too. I totally approve of your solution. Very ingenious.”

“Thank goodness for that.” Fred had completely forgotten that he had used Mariusz’s Wozna account to pay for the flying boat development, and apologised for not raising it himself. Mariusz waved a hand. 

“Not a problem, young Fred.” He looked around, taking in all his surroundings. “You’ve got a fine place here. I know you’ve been through a lot to get here, and I appreciate it. I never came to Castle Marsh before. I don’t think I missed much then, but I’m real glad I didn’t miss it now.”

“I’m sorry you can’t stay longer, but… well, you have a castle to run.”

“Yes, we never get a vacation, do we? Can I just wander around alone for a few minutes? Want to take it all in, you know.”

“Of course. George says to leave no later than three. You’ll be flying into the sunset all the way.”

“That sounds pretty. I’ll see you down at the boardwalk.”

Fred watched him stroll off, taking the stairs to the battlements, and then wander along, stopping to lean out every now and then. 

An arm crept through his as Jasmine leant against him.

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“I’m not sure I should tell you, but Willoughby says he won’t be coming back.”

Fred stiffened. “Willoughby said… him or Mariusz?”

“Mariusz, of course! Why wouldn’t Willoughby come back?”

The certainty in Jasmine’s voice made Fred wonder…

No, Willoughby would come back. At least to say a proper goodbye.

© J M Pett 2021

Short Story | Fred at Yuletide, 2020

Seven H 2020

A little something with Fred at Yuletide for our festive season. This episode fits between the antipenultimate and penultimate chapters of Princelings Revolution! I decided you need it, because I had an idea of something to write for this time next year, so I might make a habit of it. That will be interesting, because I have no idea what will happen after next year. It’s just over 1000 words.

Seven H 2020

Fred at Yuletide

Yuletide at the Inn of the Seventh Happiness was nothing like it had been at Castle Marsh.  Fred had no idea what he had expected, but somehow it wasn’t this.

At Castle Marsh, as with most castles, Yuletide started at the winter solstice, with the Solstice Speech given by the king or lord, which ended with everyone renewing their allegiance to their seigneur.  Fred had discovered that word for a king or lord reigning over a given tract of lands and all that lived in it, in an old book on the shelf by the fireplace. He’d also discovered that two of the wandering stars were due to meet in the night sky this solstice, and although he saw them getting closer in the days before the festive season, it was just storm, rain and cloud on the night itself.

He’d spent a great deal of time looking in the books by Victor’s fireplace, as he was now. They were a strange assortment, left behind by travellers over the centuries. His mind drifted to Castle Marsh’s library, and he admitted to himself, their library was just such a mixture, but larger. He ached as he thought of his old home.  Had the library been destroyed?  Was the castle itself still standing? Was anyone still loyal to … the castle, he realised with a jolt.  It wasn’t really the king they were loyal to, although some kings did gain more personal support from their people.  It was the castle itself, the land that supported them, that they worked hard on to provide for themselves, their families and their friends.

Had he underestimated that in all he’d done?  He sighed.

“What’s up brother?”  George was drawing on a piece of paper stretched on a board, that he balanced between his knee and the arm of the sofa.

“I was just thinking of solstice speeches, and what allegiance meant at the castle. They didn’t even have a speech here, just the party.”

George smiled at him, and carried on with his scribbling.

How did George always manage to have a project on the go?  He never drifted along, wondering what to do next.  Although, to be fair, Fred had never had the time before to wonder what to do next. 

“What are you drawing?”

“Idea for something people could use in an emergency.”

“What, when flying?”

“Yeah.  I’ve been thinking about it ever since I jumped out of the old Pelican and escaped from Blackbird’s clutches.  I hung on to the little rescue boat and it sort of glided through the air, but threatened to tip me up, because it wanted to turn over. I was playing with things turned over and a weight below them, and I think I’m on the right lines. Look.”

Fred looked. In the top corner there was a semicircle, like a D on its flat side, and two lines coming down to a point below it. At the point was a stick person, arms going up to the lines on either side. Then further over George had sketched a sort of three-dimensional picture of something like a jellyfish, with strings coming down from it all the way round, ending in a point.

“What goes here?” he asked, indicating the point where the strings joined.

“Ah, that’s the tricky bit. I don’t know. Some sort of harness, I think. I’ve scribbled these ideas out, look. It would be too difficult to climb into something with lots of straps to do up if you had an emergency.  When I did it, I just grabbed the boat and jumped.  It has to be that simple really.  But I was doing some calculations on size, and the amount of air this thing I’m calling a canopy, because it goes overhead, will hold.”

“You see, that’s my problem.  You’ve always got something to do.  What do I do?  I’m useless.”

“Don’t say that near Victor,  He’ll find you plenty to do.”

Fred laughed. “I’m on dishwashing this week. I’ve got at least an hour before I’m needed in the kitchen.”

“There you are then. New job: kitchen dogsbody.”

They laughed, but Fred felt that George had summed it up well. Fred was no longer king of Marsh.  He was a nobody, and had to work his way just like everybody else.

“By the way, I had a letter from Kurtz,” George said. “They are going ahead with the new plane just as we suggested.”

“I love the way you slide that into the conversation days after you got the letter from them.  I thought it must have been bad news.”

“No. They accept our financial situation is unusual, but being partners and all, as long as we’re still going to go to see Mariusz, they’ll produce the plane as agreed.”

“That’s incredibly good of them.”

“They want to see us make it work. They’ve got at least four big customers waiting to see if it does.”

“When do we have to get to Mariusz again?”

“After May 6th.”

‘Only five months.”

“At least five months. It wouldn’t make sense to turn up on his doorstep the day after he’s agreed to close the time tunnel. I reckon late June would be fine.” George put his work aside and leaned forward to look in his brother’s eyes. “And you need to be back in Castle Marsh by then.  It’s where you belong.”

“They don’t want me.”

“They will. Trust me.”

Fred thought about his words as he was washing the glasses and food dishes in the kitchen behind the bar. A few people had protested that he didn’t need to, some laughed and said it served him right. Fred just shrugged his shoulders and got on with it. Victor thanked him for helping out, every day. 

To be honest, it helped his pride that he could do something that helped Victor, and at the same time gave him solitude—in the middle of a very busy place—to think things through.  He could hardly gaze out of a window at a distant view at 7H; the settlement was sunken in the plain with sheer cliffs surrounding it. He thought over all the events of the past year, and the new allies he had—including Locksley, to his great surprise.  And being busy helped.

Meanwhile, he was with his brother, his daughter and his steward, if Willoughby could still be called that, and his friend Victor. They were safe and warm, and well fed, when others would be wet, cold, and hungry, with no place to go.

He was grateful to his friends and family for their support. They were together. And tomorrow, Yuletide would end with Green Willow Day, the first day of a new year.

© J M Pett 2021

A Pirate Yule – Part Two

Last week, we started the story of the Pirate Yule.  If you haven’t read it, follow this link, since I’m not giving you a synopsis.  I hope you enjoy the story, and have at least as much fun as the pirates this holiday season, whatever it is you celebrate.  This is our last post of the year, too, so for our Green Willow Day we will be looking forward to bringing out book 7, Willoughby the Narrator, and maybe even book 8,  The Princelings of the North, as well. And if you’re behind with your ebooks, check the link to the Princelings of the East Box set Books 1-3, available on Smashwords for Kindle as well as iTunes, B&N and Kobo.

Happy new year!

A Pirate Yule

Part Two – Castle Marsh

On a two day trip, ten men could handle the sailing barque, and Captain Argus knew it.  He could even give them time for sleep by taking the wheel himself, which he did.  They were all hardened sailors, ex-pirates, if only they could lose that tag now they were honest people living in a castle and trying to make their living within the strange customs of the Realms.

One of the few people who treated him as an equal was King Fred of Castle Marsh, and most of his people, come to that.  Like everywhere, Marsh took in travellers, people who had lost their homes in the troubles further north. Some of them treated Argus and his men like dirt, but most realised that being homeless was not in itself a reason for contempt.  They were, in fact, in the same boat, so to speak.  There were even people in places of responsibility that had once been pirates, Frankie being one of the blackest both in deed and appearance.

“Where are you berthed?” Frankie asked as Argus entered the castle gates with four of his men.

“Down at Brey.  In case of more storms.”

Frankie nodded.  “Wise.  We’ve no spare accommodation, though, and I reckon there’s going to be more snow.”

“We’ll go back once we’ve seen King Fred.  It’s urgent, or I wouldn’t have come at Yule.”

“Of course.  I’ll tell Haggis you’re here; there’s a new thing about ID cards, I don’t suppose you’ve got them?”

Argus screwed up his face.  Why on earth would a free man want an ID card?  Frankie laughed at his expression.  “No, well, we’re not worried about people we know.”

“That’s why I want to talk to King Fred.  Keep an eye out for people you used to know.  Tell you more afterwards.”

Frankie nodded.  “Fred’s just about to open the Narrathon, you’ll find Jupiter’s Tavern pretty empty, although most of the waiters are up in the tent in the courtyard.  You can go to the Narrathon, of course.”

Argus looked at his men.  The sparkle in their eyes told him the Narrathon took priority.  Frankie saw that too, chuckled and waved them through.

“Is Willoughby speaking?” Argus checked.

“No, the legendary Willoughby has got too many old promises to fulfill this Yuletide that he can’t even attend his home castle.  We’ve got other good speakers though,” Frankie added as their shoulders sagged.

“Ar wer lookin’ forrad ter ‘earin’ ‘im,” grumbled Bodger.

They made their way to the upper courtyard, although there were so many makeshift dwellings in the lower one, it could hardly be called a courtyard any more.  It all looked clean and tidy, with a light covering of snow, and the paths between the various entrances had all been swept clear.  ‘Very shipshape,” Bodger muttered to Archie.

“I’ve always liked Castle Marsh.  Very clean.”

Bodger nodded, looking sideways at him.  They hadn’t been in many castles, except in the old days, when they raided them.

In the upper courtyard King Fred had finished making speeches and was listening to a story-teller.  They settled down to enjoy themselves, realising this was one of the better ones from Marsh, a youngish person with ginger hair, who spoke well.  The story was about flying, and every now and then he put his arms out straight to imitate wings, and moved around on the platform as if he was in the air.

“He’d best not fall off, or he’ll ruin t’effect,” Bodger whispered, and they giggled, earning them some stern looks from their neighbours.

“Thank you, and well done, Geoffrey!” said King Fred as Geoffrey finished amid loud whoops and cheers. “Our next narrator is Nesta, who’s been practising for weeks, as those of you in the north tower will know!”  A group of people cheered and laughed, and shouted encouragement to Nesta as she took the platform.

“You stay here and listen,” whispered Captain Argus.  “And be polite.”

He nipped off round the back of the platform and said something to the tall person standing behind it.  Bodger could see the tall chap step up to whisper in the king’s ear.  He spoke to the person next to him, another ginger-haired fellow, and then quietly stepped off the platform, beckoning to Argus to follow him.

“Cap’n’s got his attention, anyway,” Bodger said.

In the quiet of the corridor of the west tower, Fred turned to Argus.  “Let’s sit here,” he said, pointing to a bench.  “What brings you all this way?  Can’t be our Narrathon!”

Argus did not waste time in chitchat.

“Had a visitor.  Washed up on the sandbanks in the storm the other night.  Got his crew off as we went out to save them, but spent a few hours drying off with us.  Did a swap, one of our ships for the rest of his journey, and we’d salvage his, and get some of the booty he’d got aboard.”

“Pirate, eh?”

“Aye, and one you know well.  Too well, perhaps.”

Fred frowned. “Apart from you and — you don’t mean Ludo, do you?”

“Aye.” Argus’s face was grim.

“Oh, heck.”  Fred’s face fell, while Argus broke into a smile.

“That’s the best reaction to his name I’ve ever heard.”

Fred sighed.  “Where’s he gone, do you know?”

“He was going north from us, but he said three to four days.  I was worried he might try something here with you, being he used to be king afore your uncle, but you’re only two days from us, max.”

“So where would three to four days get him?”

“Somewhere up Humber way, I reckon, maybe a little further.”

“Come and look at my map.”  Fred led the way to his office, where he pulled out a large piece of paper with lines curving all over it, and some symbols here and there with small writing next to them.  “Here’s Humber, look.”

“Yeah.  I don’t reckon he’ll be doing much with them fellas, though.  Somewhere further up the coast, maybe.  What’s this place?”

“It’s just a small place, fishing place, harbour in a storm, though, I thought you’d know about it.”

“Not me, I kept to the Sleeve mostly.  Could he beach up around here?”

“I think the beaches would be further up or further down.  It’s all cliffs along there—oh, except for these places.” Fred pointed to an inlet and also a wide bay.

“Yeah, he could land there, although he’s only got one tender if it’s for the beach.  Why, though?  There’s nobody of a real sea-faring mind up there.  We’d have met them.”

Fred stared at the map.  Puzzlement changed to some sort of comprehension.  “Did he say if he was coming back, and when?”

“No.  Oh, he said he was seeing some rebels, but I don’t know if he meant it.”

“Yes, I bet he is,” muttered Fred.  “Well, thanks, Argus, this is important news.  I think he’s gone visiting family that live in the forest up there.  I just hope he doesn’t want to come visiting what’s left of his family here afterwards.”

“Do you need some extra fighting men, in case he does?”

Fred chewed his cheek, as he did if he was seriously worried.  “No.  I can’t see why he’d benefit from letting us know he was around.  I’ll just warn Haggis to put his people on the alert.  I’m really glad you came, though.  Thank you.  How long do you want to stay?”

“Well, if you’re doing food after the Narrathon, we’d like that, if you don’t mind.  Then we’ll get back to the ship and get home before the weather gets worse.”

They left the office and went back to the courtyard.

“Looks like the weather’s worse already.”  Fred brushed the snow out of his eyes; it was snowing hard.  “Can you shelter in the food tent if you need to stay the night, or..”

“Aye, that’ll be fine.  Frankie said you were pretty full.”

“I must get back.  See you later, and… thanks.”

Fred shook his hand and scurried back to his platform.  Nesta had finished, and Bronwyn had taken over.  They were all much improved with just a few months of Willoughby’s tutelage.  He hoped their new steward had reached his next engagement safely.  Willoughby had set up their own festivities then left to fulfill engagements at Arbor, Longmoor and the inn of the Seventh Happiness.  I could always send Victor a note, Fred thought.

The applause for Bronwyn’s story took him by surprise.  George, sitting next to him, saw he was in deep thought  and stood up to thank Bronwyn, and introduce the next speaker.  Fred’s thoughts turned to Kira, who was resting in the warm.  I’ll take her some food later.

“You okay, brother?” George asked as he sat down.

“Yes.  Just some odd news from Roc.  Tell you later.”

Captain Argus sat back with his men to listen to the rest of the stories.  He watched their faces in the candlelight, lit up from imagination and not just the flickering flame.  When the Narrathon ended they crowded into the food tent with the others, and ate hot stew, with warm bread, and drank mulled ale made in the traditional way.  Some of the bolder girls came up and spoke to them, and they chatted about the stories and where they were from.

“My dad was a pirate,” one of the girls said.  “He’s a carpenter now.  Makes lovely tables and stuff.”

“I do that too,” said Bodger.  “Mebbe I know ‘im.”

“Maybe,” she said, smiling at him, and then she slipped away through the crowd.  Bodger saw her with an older woman and a man with a scar on his ear.

“Do you know that guy with the scar?” he asked Archie.

“Looks familiar.  Why?”

“Just wondered.  Wouldn’ it be nice ter have families around at Roc.”

Archie looked at him, but he privately agreed.  The men enjoyed their own company like on board ship but increasingly, when they saw other castles, they knew they were missing out.  How could they ever persuade some family people to stay with them, though?

“If you were getting a yuletide gift from someone,” Bodger asked, “what would you want?”

“A nice new hat and a pair of handwarmers,” said Archie immediately, although the idea had gone straight from seeing someone dressed up warmly, via his brain, to his mouth.

“Yeah.” Bodger watched another young woman taking off her hat and handwarmers in the cosiness of the tent.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have some of these people at Roc,” said Argus eventually, voicing all their thoughts.  He got up and went in search of Frankie.

Eventually, as all parties do, the energy dropped and people started to leave.  As the throng thinned, the pirates were left in their little group, and they moved over to sit nearer the fire.

“You staying the night, then?” asked the woman in charge of the catering.

“Aye, reckon we’ll leave at first light,” Archie replied, then added, “I don’t suppose you know a few families who’d like to come and join us at Roc, do you?”

Jupiter, the caterer, smiled at them.  “You feeling a little lonely this Yuletide?  From what I hear it’s a tough life you have there.”

“I don’t think it’s any tougher than anywhere else.  Not really, although I suppose if it’s just one or two women, it might be.”

“Tell you what, if I hear anything, I’ll get the word out that families are welcome at Roc, and you never know, come spring you might get some people wanting to give it a go.  Winter, they stay put.  Too dangerous travelling in the wilds.  Oh, and by the way, it’s still snowing.  You might be here a few more days.”

“Oh, we’ll be okay.  Never let a little weather stop us.”

Jupiter nodded and said goodnight.

“Now there’s a fine woman,” Archie said, eyes following her.

“I ‘spect she’s taken, Archie,” Bodger said, his eyes on one of the other women who left with Jupiter.  He sighed.

Argus came back in. “Had a good evening, men?”

“Aye, cap’n.”

“Well, we’re here for the night.  I reckon it’ll be settled and frosty in the morning, so we’ll make good time getting back to the ship.  Then home, eh?”

“Aye!  Home!”

But the usually cheerful word ‘home’ had a certain wistfulness about it.

The next day they set off, if not at the crack of dawn, then at an hour suitable for the tide.  Frankie came down and saw them off, handing them bags of spare provisions and having a quiet word with the captain just before they left.  Argus grinned, then set his face to a neutral expression as he ordered the men off down the track to their wild harbour.

The marsh was quiet, not even the reeds crackled under the ice, with the weight of the snow lying them sideways and a lumpy path showing the way ahead and scrunching under their footsteps.  Their breath steamed, and most of them pulled a hat or scarf around their ears to stop the tips freezing.

They shared the food with the men who’d guarded the ship, and cast off from the banks, to slip through the narrow entrance to the harbour on the ebb tide.

The wind was light, but the tide was with them, and by the time it turned they were far into the river estuary they had to cross to get home.  It was an easy journey, and they made it in record time.

The next day Argus called all the men together, around a fire.

“Men, we started this Yuletide a day early, so I’m going to end it a day early too. You’ve done a fine job with the ship, bringing it off the sandbanks, and making it watertight again, and we’re going to need it in the near future.

“We went to warn King Fred, which we did, that Ludo was in the area.  Now it’s possible that Ludo may be back to plague us all, but we don’t want that, we want peace with the Realms, and it’s King Fred who is our best chance.  But more than that, we want some of the things we saw at Marsh.  Families, kids running around, people enjoying themselves and things we miss.  And I have some great news, news that makes this our Green Willow day, when we look forward to improving our lot here at Castle Roc, to living a respectable life, with fun and food and friendship.”

“And fish!” called out one wag, which made everybody laugh.

“Yes!” Argus laughed with them.  “Never forget the fish.  But my news is this.  Our friends at Marsh, Frankie and his mates, spoke with us, and they spoke with the king, good King Fred, and a few other people, and they suggested, and I agreed, that when the spring comes, all those who want more space, and that includes three families with fourteen girls between them, and another group of six women who stick together since they were exiled together, all move down here to Castle Roc.  What say you to that?”

But he didn’t need to ask, because the men were already cheering.  So many people joining them would be a message to others that Roc was a good place to live, despite its past.

It was the best present they could have, promise of a life as a community, not just as ex-pirates.

Everyone at Castle Roc now looked forward to what spring would bring.

 

At Castle Marsh, Fred held Kira’s hand and told her of events.  She approved, as he knew she would.  If Ludo was around they were prepared for him, as they were for many things, including the new children as and when they would be born.  Jasmine, Arthur and Young George would have new siblings in the spring, as long as Kira saved her strength and let others do the work.  It had been a good Yule.  Now for whatever the new year would bring.

© J M Pett 2016

Catch up on the Princelings series ebooks at Smashwords to be ready for the next books coming out in 2017

Yuletide 2016 – A Pirate Yule part One

Seasons’ greetings, and welcome to December on the Princelings website. This year we have a two part story for you, involving the pirates who kidnapped King Fred a couple of years back, when he solved their immediate problem by getting them their own castle, Castle Roc [Fred’s Yuletide Escape]. Since that story, it seems they’ve become good neighbours, even if they are a whole day’s sail from each other, at least.

Each part of the story is just over 2000 words, and the second part is next Wednesday, 14th Dec. The following Wednesday is the winter solstice, of course!

A Pirate Yule

Part One – Castle Roc

December in the Sleeve, the long stretch of turbulent sea which separates the island of the Realms from the great continental mass to the south and east.  High winds rushed along the coast from the west, whipping the waves into a frenzy.  Equally strong winds from the north scoured the air above the eastern sea, sweeping it into whirlpools and crashing it into sandbanks.  And where the north and west winds met, off the southeasternmost point of the Realms, a choppy maelstrom tossed flotsam, jetsam, and ships caught in the storm from wave crest to trough, despite the still airs above them.

“Hold fast!” yelled the captain at his crew. “We’ll be through it yet, like a cork out of a bottle.  And then I’ll crack open the rum for ye!”

Forty soaking, freezing, salt-rimed sailors heard his words and tried to grin, but the salt stung their lips, and they shut them again rather than expose the painful cracks to the cold.  Their grip on the gunnels, ropes and whatever else they’d managed to secure themselves to was held only by the ice encrusted on their hands.  Darkness came again, a mere six hours from the previous dawn, and the sailors gritted their teeth and thought of the alternatives to their way of life.

There weren’t many options for lifelong pirates.

***

Forty miles along the coast, safely around the headland from the Sleeve, sixty ex-pirates huddled in sandy caves set into the hillside, protected from both wind and wave by the sturdy walls of Castle Roc, set thirty feet above the high water line, but with a sheltered cove to berth their ships.  If it had not been the ideal place when they had agreed to move there, it was now.  They made a decent enough living from the sea, traded honestly with inlanders and visitors from the continent, and were even growing strange things called vegetables in the good soil in the valleys beyond the cliffs.

“How many days now till Yule, Archie?” asked one gruff-voiced fellow with a scar over one eye and a rough woollen cap perched over his ears.

“Two days, Bodger, two days.  One less than yes’day, when it was three days.” Archimedes was used to explaining how numbers worked to his mates.  He learned to count as a kid, as did at least six of the others, and fully twenty of them could do so now.  Far from being despised as larnin’, it was now viewed as an asset, since counting meant you could tell whether the water was too shallow, or if all the seeds had sprung up, or how many more days it was till the Yuletide feast.

“Wot we gonna do this yar?” A scrawny chap who looked like a kid, but was at least as old as the rest, stretched on his pile of hay and yawned.

“Cap’n told ye, t’other day. Weren’t ye list’ning, Dafydd?”

“Oh, arr, we wos list’ning a’right.  Jus’ wanna hear it agin, Archie.”

“Well, I’ll tell ye again, then.  First up, we have the Solstice speech, and then the feast.”

“Why’s the cap’n speechifying?”  Popster asked

“‘cos it’s trad-ish-unal.”  Dafydd showed that he knew perfectly well what was happening.

Archie rolled his eyes.  “Then there’s the storytelling day.”

“Narrathon,” Dafydd corrected him.  “But we ain’t gettin’ any proper narr-ators.”

“No, we’re doing it ourselves.  And if we want to sing the shanties we can, because that’s even more traditional.”

“Hold up! Cap’n on board!” A dark chap at the edge of their cave called, and they all rolled to their feet, murmuring ‘Cap’n’ in greeting as a tall chap slid through the entrance into the light.

“Men,” he said, looking around at them.  “There’s a ship in trouble out on the banks.  Maybe it’s holed, maybe it’ll swim, but it’s dark and we have to decide whether to save those on board or not.

Now if we save them, we may have to share our food with a full crew, or maybe only a few survivors, but that feast will be least feasty, if you take my meaning.  Shall we save them?”

A small chorus of ‘aye’ rippled around the cave, but the captain could tell it wasn’t all the men, by any means.

“That’s what I thought.  We might, but we might not.  We could set ourselves against the perils of the deep in the dark of the night, or we could wait till morning.”

“It’s not that deep, cap’n.  Tide’s goin’ out so we can walk to the bank in two hours.”

“Shut yer gob, Sparky.”

“No, Sparky’s right,” said the captain.  “In two hours the moon’ll be up and there’ll be enough light to wade across.  If we don’t go to them, I reckon any survivors will come to us, and if we go, we’ll be in charge, won’t we?”

“Aye!” came a stronger response.

“Right then.  Two hours, assemble on the beach, everyone except red watch – they’ll stay here to make sure anyone that’s already come ashore gets looked after.  Archie, tell them when two hours is up, will you?”

“Aye, cap’n.” Archie said, and watched his captain swagger away to address the men the other caves.

 

The rescue party were halfway to the sandbanks when they heard the sound of oars and muffled grunts.

“Ahoy, there,” called the captain.  “Be you the ship that ran aground?”

“Aye, that we be,” came an answer to the captain’s left.

“Can ye see the light we left on our harbour wall?”

“Aye, we’re making for it, thank’ee.”

“Are ye all safe in the boats?”

“Aye, that we be.”

The captain shrugged and called his men to make their way back to shore.  It might be profitable to search the grounded ship, but not in the dark, and not when the captain and crew were making for his castle.  He had a strange feeling about the voice he’d heard echoing over the water, still disturbed, but now just a gentle sploshing, not the choppy waves of earlier.

He and his men made land about the same time as the boats.  The rest of his men directed the newcomers to the fire to dry off, and the rescue party hurriedly changed into dry clothes to support them.  The captain reckoned the newcomers outnumbered his shore party, but not when all his crew banded together.  Old habits died hard; he wasn’t about to lose all they’d worked for to another band of pirates, since he knew by the look of them that was what they were.

He knew even better when he saw their leader, a tall muscular chap, mostly black with a few white scars about his person, and tufts of ginger around his ears and neck.

“Well, Ludo, I’m surprised to meet you here.”

“And who might you be?”

“Captain Argus, at your service once upon a time, but now we make a fairly honest living here at this castle, as you see.”

“Given up your petty pilfering ways have ye, Argus?”

Argus smiled broadly at him, showing his teeth were still as strong as ever.  “Given up your pilfering ways and hoping not to get found in the Realms, are ye, Ludo?”

“I have an invitation.”

“Oh, yes?  And who might be inviting the most double-dealing pirate king ever known to the high seas, banished after the rout of the Battle of Dimerie, and told never to set foot in the Realms again?”

“Got any trouble with bandits?” asked Ludo.

Captain Argus wondered at the change of subject.  “Not around here, no.  Why?”

“You will have soon.  I’ve been kept up to date about all the goings-on in the Realms.  Double-dealing by lords of their castles, occupation by vampires who set plague loose in the southern lands, people kicked out of their homes seeking shelter in their beholden castle only to be enslaved… heard any of that?”

Argus shifted uncomfortably.  “Aye, we hear rumours.  Get a few people coming by, hoping to find safety here.  Families move on when they realise, but some of the loners stay.”

“Losers, you mean.”

“Young males without a job, seeking companionship and purpose.  Just like the old days, really.”

Ludo had been walking beside Argus as they talked, and now they were some way from the fire.  Ludo looked towards the fire, and then back along the seawall to where the next sentry was, and beyond him to the ships.  The first glimmer of dawn was on the horizon.  It would be light enough to see faces inside another hour.  He stopped and looked out to sea.

“I’m headed north, to meet some people I know from old.  I need a ship and mine’s breached.”

“We’re two days off the spring tides.  Is she reparable?”

“Maybe.  If I take one of your ships and my men, you can have her whatever state she’s in, with all the booty aboard as well, save for a chest in my cabin.  Will you give me your word you’ll return that to me?”

Argus thought for a moment.  Ludo was notoriously tricksy.  On the other hand, he had known him to deal fair with other captains; it was the way he brought so many of them to support him.

“Are you starting a new campaign?”

“Maybe.  Want to join?”

“Depends on your purpose.  Like I said, we have a good berth here.  How far north are these people you used to know?”  Argus had some good friends a day or two away, and he didn’t think they were friends of Ludo’s.  In fact, he had reason to believe they were his sworn enemies.

“Oh, three or four days’ sailing, then a short walk.  They’re rebels, nobody you’d know, now you’re so comfortable in your wee landlubbers’ castle.”

Argus refused to rise to the bait.  Ludo was trouble, and he’d decided his own course after the battle of Dimerie.  It had been a hard won struggle to get recognition, a home for his men and others of their former calling, and the security of a castle.  He wasn’t going to tell Ludo the other benefits he was negotiating with princes and kings.

“If anyone asks, you’ll have to say you stole my ship, but yes, you can have one, and we’ll raise yours.  Deal.”

“Good.  We’ll be on our way at the next high tide, then.  The wind should be in our favour by then.”

There was a fair bit of murmuring as the newcomers took over one of the ships and put up one sail to work their way out of the little harbour.  Once they were clear and under full sail, Argus turned to his band.

“Men! I’m sure most of you know who’s in that ship, and you may have guessed why I sent them on their way.  We want nothing to do with them, but if we can raise their ship we’ll have got a decent exchange.  Now today is Solstice eve, and I reckon we should celebrate today, then raise the ship tomorrow, since it’ll be a long job.  What say you?”

“Aye!” came a chorus.

“Right then, well, I’d better speechify about finding ourselves here, in a safe haven, with good fishing and ships and friends in high places, and the Realms gradually coming round to thinking we’re just regular people, although we know we’re a bit better than them.”

Everyone laughed and Argus continued.

“Now, I want to see our friends at Castle Marsh, and tell them about Ludo and his visit further north.  I want a small crew to come with me after the feast, straight after, so no drinking yourselves silly.  The rest of you can carouse as much as you like.  Sing shanties, play games, have a great day.  But raise that ship during the next three tidefalls, and you can have the pick of the contents.  Those that come with me will get a second feast at Castle Marsh!”

Cheers came from all quarters; it was a plan, and they liked plans.  Argus knew who he could trust to carry them out, too. While the feast was being readied he went to all the section leaders, picked his crew out, and saw that everything was shipshape while he was away.

They’d miss having stories and all the other goodies that went with Yuletide, but they’d surely make up for it when they met King Fred and told him the news.  Ludo, formerly the pirate king, and one-time king of Castle Marsh, was back.

Watch for Part two next week!

© J M Pett 2016