Circle Sea 1: The Pirate Maze

Chapter Thirteen: Pirate Plots

As the darkness deepened, Jim was seriously tempted to turn left and run back home. He knew that he had stumbled into something serious and it might have been wiser to forget what he had heard and return to the familiar safety of his room. It was, after all, one thing to dream about adventure, but a completely different thing to be caught up in the plots of real pirates.

He looked back up the path. He could see the houses stacked up along the road and the tiny lights of oil lamps flickering through dark windows. Home was somewhere up there, lost among the twisted trees, stone walls and wooden buildings.

Instead he turned again and looked right, down towards the water. The two pirates had already disappeared from view but they were somewhere between him and the harbour, hatching a plan that would be bad news for someone.

The stars were twinkling in the clear sky and the moon was bright enough to illuminate the details of roofs and buildings at the heart of the village. Dark shadows were cast across the path and Captain Mercy was lurking in one of them preparing to strike.

Jim lifted his shoulders and put one foot in front of the other. He knew where he needed to go and set off with determination.

Walking down this stretch of the road made him seriously nervous. There were now dark shadows between buildings and under archways. It was easy to imagine that each one might shelter a villain with a knife or sword.

It had only been the night before when he had wandered happily along this same path in the moonlight, and he had done so without a care in the world. He had been excited by the possibility of hearing stories about pirates, but now he was worried about actually meeting one.

He reached the familiar door of the bakery and knocked loudly on the door. The family were still awake and he could see lights shining through tiny gaps in the thick curtains.

The wooden door swung open slowly with a creak and Samuel Jones looked out warily into the darkness. Polly’s father was a heavily built man with firm muscular arms and a kindly face. He smiled when he found Jim standing on the doorstep looking up at him.

‘Good evening young Jim,’ he said warmly. ‘What are you doing down here at this time of the evening? Is everything alright?’

‘Can I come in Mr Jones?’

The baker nodded and ushered Jim into the house. He led him to the kitchen where his wife was tidying up after their evening meal. Calvin was standing by the sink with his arms deep inside a sink-load of dishes. He looked up as Jim walked in and greeted him with a wet but friendly wave.

A single oil lamp sat on the table and its orange glow made the room feel warm and safe. Jim found himself becoming sleepy and calm and the events of the evening began to seem like scenes from a dream.

Polly had heard the creak of the door and came downstairs to see what was going on. She looked puzzled to see Jim again so soon but offered him a quizzical smile while she stood quietly behind her father.

Her mother smiled warmly when she saw Jim and made him sit down at the table. She poured out a glass of milk and the family gave him time to gather his thoughts.

‘Now what seems to be the problem, Jim?’ Mr Jones asked with a concerned voice.

‘I think something’s going to happen in the harbour tonight,’ he replied quietly as he looked down into the glass.

The lamplight flickered while Jim carefully described his visit to the schoolhouse and his encounter with the pirates. The orange glow cast ever-changing shadows of the Jones family onto the kitchen walls as they listened.