Circle Sea 1: The Pirate Maze

Prologue

Lightning flashed above the rugged rocks as the storm grew in its intensity. Sharp shards of granite pointed upwards to the sky like broken teeth ready to slash and tear. Water crashed against grey boulders in explosions of white. It was a harsh and awesome place.

There were no buildings on the island, but a maze of grey pathways cut through the rocks like cracks in a shattered mirror. The only light in the dark and stormy sky came from the moon which occasionally broke through the thick and swirling clouds, casting dark shadows across the many crags and ridges.

Two men dodged each other as they flowed through the gaps in the rock, engaged in a deadly dance of sweat and steel. They knew each other’s moves well and their blades swung in a regular pattern of slice and thrust. Metal rang out against metal and bright sparks flashed against the ever-darkening sky.

The taller man was dressed entirely in black and had a broad captain’s hat pushed down sideways on his head. A skull and crossbones motif had been embroidered on it in white and gold. His dark hair flowed down to his shoulders in tight curls and his beard formed a harsh triangle with a flash of white at the tip.

He was laughing as he fought, a wild cackle echoing through the rocky spaces of the island as he swung his cutlass from right to left in a broad and deadly sweep. It struck his opponent’s broadsword repeatedly with a powerful ringing clash. The force of the blows would have disarmed a weaker man... but this enemy was equally strong and fiercely determined.

The smaller man was agile and moved lithely like a cat, bouncing from boulder to crag with a fluidity and passion that belied his physical power. He blocked powerful attacks with ease and then swung forward with sudden lunges. The two men had very different fighting styles but were evenly matched. This was not a contest that would be settled quickly.

The second man wore a red headband, a striped shirt and a ragged red jacket. As the other man laughed, he glared back with gritted teeth. He kept lunging at his opponent, trying to get through the larger man’s guard. Back and forth they fought as they continued their increasingly desperate battle.

High overhead the swirling clouds of the storm seemed to spin tighter and tighter as the cut and thrust of their swords marked the time out with a rhythmic clash of steel upon steel.

‘You can’t beat me Jack!’ laughed the taller man wildly. ‘You never could, you know. That’s why I’m the King and you’ve never been anything more than my slave!’

‘I don’t need to beat you. I just need to hold you here!’ the man called Jack shouted back with grim determination on his face. The longer we stay at the heart of the storm, the better! It’s the only way to end this war!’

‘You’ll never see her again, you know,’ the King gloated between thrusts. ‘She will get old and grey and die, and you will be stuck in here with my sword for company.’

‘That’s fine by me!’ Jack responded as he stabbed again, trying to reach through the other man’s defences. ‘At least with you in here, she will have a chance to live - a chance to grow old - and not become one more victim of your pointless war!’

The Pirate King laughed a deep and blood curdling laugh. 

‘As if I care about you and your trollop,’ he bellowed. ‘You can’t keep me here forever and the time will come when you will drop your guard or someone will come in looking for us. Oh, what fun we will have then!’

Their battle continued as they fought on and on, moving ever closer to the centre of the rugged island and the swirling heart of the storm. Around them the world continued to turn, as the tempest raged.

Further back from the island and past the broken circles of deadly reefs and rocky crags, the storm became a distant memory and time passed...