Threshing Floor

Chaos...then Peace....Damn it!

The leading warships stormed into the bay in a long line of black sails and the sooty smoke of black gunpowder.  The small guns that each cutter had mounted on it's foredeck were not particularly powerful and damage to the defending ships was light, but the screen of thick smoke and the hulls of the ships themselves served to screen the larger ships behind them as they maneuvered into position to bring their full broadside gun decks to bear.  The first wave took heavy damage from the dockside guns and many of them had already started to sink, filling the churning waters with burning wrecks, like so many fiery water lilies.  Obviously, part of the plan of the ruthless attackers was to make flight or a counter attack as difficult as possible and they were not at all afraid to do so on the dying backs of what were likely slave crews in the leading ships.  

She squinted her hazel eyes and quickly but calmly scanned the battle while her crew raced around her, jumping from deck to railing to rigging like human-size cats with the zoomies.  They all knew their jobs and did them well without her micromanaging them.  In fact, she counted it as a point of pride that she could let others accomplish tasks in the way most natural for them without losing mental bandwidth listening to orders they didn't really need.  Cesar on the other hand apparently hadn't gotten that memo or else completely lacked that gene in his makeup and was stalking the deck shouting orders to her sailors.  Luckily, it seemed that most of the men were nodding and smiling at him and then going about their business  like they had intended in the first place.  She even saw a salute or two that didn't look too obviously patronizing. Her crew was the best of the best and even though it was a dicey bet giving orders to pirates in the best of times,  the bilge rats of the Syren could play nice and go with the flow when they had to.  They instinctively recognized that their ship and their captain, if not their whole way of life, needed them to swallow their pride and fierce independence and just get things done.

In the midst of the controlled chaos swirling around her, she found her gaze drawn to a small zone of calm at the base of the midship mast.  The blind sailor was still coiling and stowing the lengths of extra rope that every ship kept on hand to tie the sails when they were furled.  His hands moved in a way that spoke of long practice and that didn't have to move quickly since they wasted no energy in unnecessary motion.  She wondered if anyone had thought to explain to him the crisis that was developing in the Bay.  Her steps had just started in his direction when she heard a questioning curse from the other side of the deck.

Maybe sensing that he was having little real impact on the way things were unfolding around him,  Cesar spun around on his heel to face Sarah and found her making her way midship.  His face creased in puzzlement and then anger when he saw the object of her trajectory.

"You there! Cripple!" he yelled, "Did no one tell you we are seconds from the battle of our lives?  How did you get on board anyway? Who authorized the hiring of  a useless, blind sailor? We need every soul on this ship to give 110 percent today, no one has the time to babysit a man that can't fight.  Get off the ship,NOW!, before we throw off lines or I will throw you off myself."

"Mr. Embustante!" Sarah raised her voice in irritation about to explain in no uncertain terms that nobody threw anybody off her ship, without her say so. Certainly not someone who was expertly doing a job that no one else had time to do at the moment.  But just as she was getting worked up to make her point,  a loud quarrel broke through the tense moment and forced everyone's attention on the plank that gave access to the ship from the dock.

"Now what?" she thought and tried with only partial success to process the scene.  A tall, well dressed man with empty eyes, a cruel face, and an oily smile stood next to an equally attired woman who, to all appearances, were trying go get on board the ship just as her men were preparing to cast off into the mayhem of the fight the other captains had already joined with the Noxians.  Two of the beefier deck hands were blocking their way at the top of the gangplank but, by their stances, neither of the two newcomers looked to have any intention of backing down.

"What in all the hells could you two want?" she asked.  Just looking at the man in the eyes gave her a headache.  Now here were two people that she would be happy to give Cesar permission to boot off the Syren.

"Captain Fortune, you must allow us to sail with you. I have information that will be crucial to your success in this struggle," the man said with all the sincerity of a spider inviting a fly into his home, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Master Erlok and this is my companion, Lady Dania."

The lady in question subtly raised one eyebrow and cast a sidelong glance at Master Erlok when he referred to her as his "companion" but quickly hid the expression and said nothing.

"We believe you have in your possession three objects of power that you recently acquired which could have a significant role in repulsing the Noxian threat. You must allow us to accompany you and show you how to use them to the best effect."

Her mouth gaped open involuntarily for the briefest instant before she shrugged and answered, "Whoever you are and how you got your information, I don't have time to put you back ashore.  For good or evil, it looks like you are sailing with the Syren into what could be her last fight." She turned to the two burly deck hands and ordered, "Cast off the lines!  Get us under sail!"  

They vaulted the railing and dropped agilely to the dock below and in an instant had the thick ropes holding the ship loosened and pushed her away from the pier with long poles.  The sails unfurled as the men untied the lashings and the wind instantly caught the heavy fabric and stretched it taut.

The Bay was a large, open expanse of water, sheltered by several islands at its mouth. Her trained eye and familiarity with the harbor told her that it would take 10 to 15 minutes to close with the battle from the Syren's berth. There was maybe just enough time to puzzle out the claims Master Erlok had made about the items that were still sitting, untouched, on her desk.

"Erlok! Dania! Cesar!" she barked, "Come with me."  

She turned her back on them without looking at their expressions or waiting to see if they were following and strutted back across the desk to her quarters and blew through the door.  

Although the stateroom was darker than the deck and her eyes hadn't yet adjusted, she could clearly see the three items in question on her desk.  One was a gold crown, set with blue stones but of a size to be worn on a finger rather than on the brow.  The other two were figurines of small trees, planted in pots.  They were made of some unknown material, rigid and unmoving.  One was the image of a tree in full bloom, with tiny silver fruits hanging from its bows. The other looked like it lived in a perpetual wintertime, with bony, bare branches reaching up to a gray sky. She reached out one hand toward the figure of the living tree, intending on beginning the interrogation of her strange guests with it.  Her hand fell on it just as she was opening her mouth and turning to the strangely empty door leading to the bright daylight outside.  *Damn it, where are they?* Suddenly, the world around her froze, twisted 180 degrees, and when it returned to normal....instead of the silhouette of the bright rectangle of the doorway leading to the deck of her ship.... She was alone, in a forest of lush green fruit trees!

She looked down at the figurine in her hand that mimicked the trees that were suddenly all around her and dropped it in shock.  Her cabin didn't reappear.  The sounds of wind through the leaves and the calls of the birds flitting from one branch to the next didn't fade back into the roar of cannons and men crying out in anger, pain, and fear.  She ran first in one direction past a dozen trees and then returned to the statuette still lying on the ground and ran the other way but saw no sign of the wharfs and warehouses of Bilgewater Bay, only a never-ending, solitary orchard in every direction.  Most people would have found her current setting idyllic, and much preferred to be there than in an uncertain deadly struggle with Noxian raiders.

But her ship?  Her men?  The Bay that had become her home?  She had to find a way back!