A Siren at the Helm

Chapter I: Preparation

20 years later

The smell of beer, rum and body odor mixed into a potent combination as Amina mopped the floor. She was as used to the smell by now as she was to the terrible company that would occasionally walk through the doors.

Somewhere in the pub a bellowing laugh rose out above the noise. Cutlery chimed against metal dishes as sailors hungrily chomped at their late lunch, not that the food was any good. Amina could also hear pints being clincked together as someone made a toast over some trivial matter.

In her quiet corner of the pub, she was glad that she had not been on duty during rush hour. It was not the noise that bothered her, nor the smell that seemed to worsen when they entered the place. What bothered her was the disrespect these sailors showed towards her or, more accurately, her prohibition to pummel them. Amina was usually a sweet tempered girl, but the brutes had a tendency to go to far. They thought her inferior just because she was a woman. If only they knew...

Though she might not look it Amina was a match for any grown man who dared to insult her. Unfortunately, beating up customers was apparently bad for business.

As she stepped back her leg hit something and it fell over with a thud and splash. She looked behind her. Being so busy with her train of thought, she had failed to notice the pail of water and knocked it over. Amina huffed, seeing the dirty water cover the floor. She did not feel like cleaning that up.

Quickly looking around she made sure that no one was watching. She was in luck. The other barmaids were huddled together in the other corner whispering among themselves. The rest of the pub's occupants were either so absorbed with their food or conversation that they didn't notice her.

Confident that nobody was paying attention to her, Amina stretched her hand out to the water. She felt her eyes glow with the sudden rush of power. The puddle contracted into a neat bubble. The bubble then rose off the ground and deposited itself in the iron-hooped bucket. She smiled with satisfaction and continued to mop the floor, lost in her thoughts.

*

After cleaning the floor Amina picked up the two empty pints left on the table beside her, and carried them to the bar.

Upon walking back she stopped, hearing an interesting bit of conversation from one of the barmaids. "Can you believe it? She's coming all the way from Paris!" Her fellow waitresses were listening eagerly. It was difficult to tell them apart, since every barmaid's head was covered by a rag keeping their hair out of the way as they worked. They also wore aprons over their dresses, in case they were to mess.

"What?" Amina cut in.
"Haven't you heard? Isabella Oakes is coming here," She answered.
"Who?"
"Are you completely daft? She is only one of the most famous opera singers in the world!" The barmaid danced about happily as she spoke.
"Why on earth would an opera singer come to a small town like this?"
"She was born here," one of the other barmaids answered. "She's going to sing as some sort of "tribute", whatever that means." She went on. Clearly she shared Amina's scepticism on the matter.

Amina still didn't understand the situation (or even know it to be the truth for that matter). She did not see the given reason as a valid explanation, but then again, no one knew what went on inside the head of a diva.

"She's coming in three days time," the first barmaid continued.
"I heard her voice is so beautiful that the prince of Germany had her sing at his wedding," another added giggling.

Amina, sensing that all sensible information had been shared, was just about to continue with her work when another voice sounded behind them. "Why bother with her when we have our own prima Donna right here?"

She immediately recognized the voice. It belonged to Felipe, the pub's self proclaimed music expert. He played the broken down, out of tune piano in the evenings, and sometimes in the afternoons too. A right charmer and one of the few who paid much attention to Amina, he had one day heard her singing to herself in the quiet corner of the pub. Since that day he had always quipped that she should sing to an audience, not that she gave it much mind.

"You must sing for us sometime, it would be good for Isabella to have some competition," Felipe flashed a dazzling smile at her. With his golden hair and green eyes, it was no wonder that he had captured most of the barmaids' attentions.

Amina, however, laughed and rolled her eyes, "You know very well that I don't sing, least of all opera." She waltzed past Felipe and the barmaids, there were new customers waiting at her table.

*

The paper crackled as Esteban slided it onto his desk. The three men around him stared at the picture with curiosity. A woman with red hair and brown eyes stared back at them. Esteban's quarters were dimly lit with candles, adding to the fiery appearance of the woman in the picture.

Esteban cleared his throat, "Now, you are going to listen up because I will only say this once." He would probably repeat it three more times, considering his crew's state of memory. "This," he motioned to the page, "is Isabella Oakes. In three days she will be coming to the island nearby. You two," he pointed at Fish and Mad Mich, "are going to kidnap her and bring her back to The Vengaza. Bloom," Esteban looked up at the old man in front of him, "you and I will deliver the ransom note to the inn she will be staying in. Her parents will catch the word soon enough."

"Uh, Cap'n?" Esteban looked at the large man. Fish was tall, so tall that Esteban had to look up at him.
"Yes?"
"Why're ye deliverin' the ransom note? Isn't kidnappin' more yer sort of thing?"

Esteban rolled his eyes at the question. "I have told you many times that I cannot go to places filled with people. Why? Because I have a reward of two thousand pounds on top of my head, that's why!"
"There will be lots of people?" Mad Mich chimed in. Esteban rubbed his hand over his face, and said in an exasperated tone, "Of course there will! Everyone on the island will come to listen to Isabella." He suddenly smiled, "Then we will steal her out right from under their noses."

"But Cap'n ain't it bad luck bringin' a woman aboard a ship?" Mad Mich said, ringing his hands nervously. Esteban glared at him. "Do you want the ransom money or not?" He said icily. Mad Mich took a step backward and said nothing more. "I thought so." Esteban sounded dryly.

"Cap'n?"
"What is it now?" Esteban turned to Fish once again.
"How do we take 'er without bein' spotted ourselves?"
"Must I think of everything for you? I do not care what you do to get her, or how, as long as she is in one piece and alive!" Esteban was almost shouting by now. Fish opened his mouth to say something again, but his captain beat him to it. "JUST KIDNAP THE BLOODY SINGER! Is that really so very hard for a pirate like yourself?"

After that Esteban had decided that he did not have the energy to put up with his meddlesome crew, and pointed Fish and Mad Mich outside.

As he looked back at Bloom, the older man stared at him knowingly. "I'll check up on me lock-pickn' kit. Make sure I still 'ave everything," he said, struggling to stand up from his position in one of Esteban's desk chairs. Esteban merely nodded. He watched as Bloom managed to hoist himself out of the chair and waddle out of the door. He closed it behind him with a click.

Bloom was the oldest and most experienced pirate on The Vengaza's crew. He was the one Esteban went to if ever he needed advice (which was rare), but he still liked Bloom being there when plans were discussed. Sometimes Esteban felt that Bloom, with his graying beard and balding head, was the only other person with sense in the room.

Esteban sighed. His crew frustrated him. He hoped that those two would at least succeed at the task he had given them. It was not so hard to kidnap a defenseless little diva, was it?

*

A/N

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