Circle Sea 1: The Pirate Maze

Chapter Eleven: A Room for the Night

Commodore West was a man of great dignity and he wore his uniform with pride. His white hair had been cut with military precision and his face was so closely shaven that there was no sign of stubble on his flawless skin. His blue eyes were bright and sharp and he stood tall and straight like a flag pole. Even the stone walls of the village appeared curved and random in comparison.

Everything about the Commodore was bright and clean. He practically shone as he stood on the uneven cobbles outside the Queen’s Head. In a world greys and browns he was hard to miss. He looked out of place but also poised and self-assured.

Polly and Jim had followed West along the path and sat on a low wall to watch.

He knocked three times on the old wooden door of the inn and stood to attention as he waited for a response. There were sounds of movement inside and the door finally opened.

Burbridge appeared with an apron tied around his waist and a dirty cloth in one hand. He blinked as he looked out onto the street and found the officer standing there. He pushed the cloth into a pocket and stepped outside.

‘Evenin’,’ he said as he looked the officer up and down inspecting his shiny boots and crisp uniform.

‘I require board and lodgings for my passengers,’ said the the officer in his well practiced military voice.

‘Aye,’ replied the inn keeper. ‘That’ll be a bit of a problem, I’m afraid.’

The Commodore was clearly used to getting his own way and tried to look down his nose at the taller man.

‘I was given to believe you had rooms,’ he said in an indignant tone. ‘I have important passengers who need comfortable beds on shore while we stay here overnight.’

Burbridge practically snorted.

‘My beds are adequate,’ he replied. ‘But you’d have t’be pretty tired to call ’em comfortable. Either way, there’s not a lot I can do if I’ve booked up all my rooms.’

Commodore West looked carefully at the innkeeper as if trying to decide what his next move should be.

‘Have we met before,’ he asked after a moment.

Burbridge stroked one side of his huge moustache deliberately.

‘Aye,’ he replied. ‘Like as not we may have, back in the day.’

‘Did you serve on the Eagle?’ West asked.

‘No,’ said the inn keeper with a shake of his head. ‘It were somewhere else. I reckon we’ve both been around a bit. Now, I’m really sorry, but all my rooms have gone.’

Polly slid off the stone wall so she could get a little closer.

‘Mr Burbridge,’ she called out politely. ‘It’s the Governors wife.’

‘Is it indeed?’ said the inn keeper sounding genuinely surprised. ‘Well, that maybe so, but it doesn’t change the fact that I have no free rooms.’

There was a long pause while both men considered their response. It was broken as a bearded face appeared from the door.

The sailor called Pike stepped out onto the street and peered at them through the tiny round lenses of his metal rimmed glasses.

‘I am terribly sorry,’ he began. ‘But we couldn’t help overhearin’ your conversation and we may be able to help.’

West turned to inspect the ragged and overweight sailor. It was clear that he was not impressed but he was willing to listen.