A Siren at the Helm

Chapter VI: The Pirate's Waltz

*Dedicated to CCMichael for voting for almost every chapter of my story.*

The morning had passed quickly and by the time the sun was setting on Isabella's last day on the island, Captain Esteban and his crew were on their way to the land. Clad in the best finery... well, the best finery a pirate could have, they were a sight to behold. As their dinghys washed ashore, they all jumped out before hiding the small boats under the black rocks that stuck out from the sand like giant daggers.

Esteban had left half of his crew on The Vengaza. The other half he had dragged to the island after managing to stuff them in cravats and polished boots. It was their last chance to pocket a few pounds and this time Esteban himself would make sure nothing went wrong. Though they did not look it, both he and his crew were armed to the teeth, with knives, pistols and small swords.

"Now, you are going to wait for my signal, and otherwise you do nothing. Is that clear?" Esteban's men nodded their heads. "And if one of you idiots make a mess of this I will have you keelhauled!" He made sure to specifically look at Fish and Mad Mich. They stared at their neatly laced boots as he did. None of his crew looked like themselves, but then again, that was the point.

Esteban fidgeted with his cravat. He especially didn't look like himself. The expensive waist jacket and spectacles irritated him most. They definitely did not suit a pirate. Though, he would rather wear them than have her recognize him. That would throw his all his plans right out a window.

The pirates made their way up the cliffs that the beaches surrounded on a winding path. It was very narrow in some places, causing them to have to lean against the cliff walls. As Esteban stepped on a rock, the ground beneath it gave way, leaving a hole about a foot wide where it had been. He gulped. It was a long way down. He quickly looked away from the ominous drop and focused instead on the last few feet of the path.

It was not long before both he and his crew made it to the comparative safety of the top of the cliffs. They then started making their way to the only little town on the island.

The trek was not as arduous as Esteban had expected. Trees were sparse and the only hindrance were the jagged stones that stuck out from the earth. Though, they were relatively easy to navigate on foot. And so, the gang of pirates disguised as gentlemen soon found themselves nearing the town. At this point captain and crew slit up, as to not arouse the suspicions of the townspeople of all the unfamiliar gentlemen arriving at once.

Esteban walked through the winding streets of the town, his boots clicking on the cobbled stones. There were few people around but he could hear laughter and conversation somewhere ahead. Suddenly the dark side street spat him out in the town square.

His scenes were assaulted by lights, colors and the smells of a feast. It appeared as though the square had been converted into an open air ballroom. Tea tables lined the walls covered in refreshments and candlesticks. Every so often an arrangement of wild flowers peeked out in between. Between posts, lines of string with colorful, triangular flags crisscrossed above Esteban.

The people gathered in the square were just as beautifully decorated. Women were strutting about in gowns that ranged from burgundy to emerald green, all with intricately done hair. Men wore coats much like Esteban and some had silver or gold chains that led to pocket watches. The sight was almost magical. He wondered where the small village had gotten the money for these fine things. Though, a lot of merchants did stop here en route to other destinations, so it did make sense.

Esteban had originally thought that the diva would just sing and retire to her room, now there seemed to be a dance as well.

From the corner of his eye something white suddenly drew his attention. It had flitted away before he could see what it was. He ignored it and pressed on to one of the refreshment tables. They were dotted with champagne and he was not one to regect free alcohol. Just as he collected a glass he spied the white thing again, this time, standing still. He almost dropped his drink.