SlenderWolf

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Slender looks in the direction of the regular conscripts, beckons over the two nearest her, “get him back on his feet and get him into the Asylum. And get his leg fixed, don’t make it worse! We don’t have enough strong men as it is, and this idiot might actually come in useful … one day!”

She looks at MickeyWarr, who’s now sitting on the ground, struggling to take off one of his boots.

“I could have killed you!” she says, “I don’t know why I didn’t! Any of the others would have!”

As she says that, the sword in her right hand is drawn back, but not returned to its scabbard. To everybody it looks like she could be poised and ready to lunge.

At the same time she’s cautiously gesturing with her left hand. It’s done in an instant, and she hopes that nobody other than MickeyWarr saw it.

With a flat palm facing the ground, all the fingers held together and extended forward, the wrist barely moved but the tips of the fingers did, moving sharply to the left as if to say “cancel”.

The wavelengths are crowded with too many thoughts. The frenzy to recapture the recalcitrant vegetables is still in progress. Slender might be a demi-psychic, but she can’t distinguish one channel from another when there are dozens of people about, and lots of them are shouting. On a good day she can barely cope with two concurrent transmissions, three is her absolute limit. One to one is best, but even that requires a calm peaceful environment, not this chaos!

MickeyWarr is being lifted up by his armpits, and he’s assuming that the “cancel” gesture means “don’t take my words literally, I’m certainly not going to kill you.”

Unfortunately there’s no opportunity for either of them to do any more body language, or any spoken language, as MickeyWarr is half carried, and half dragged away towards the Asylum. It’s too risky for him to turn his head and look back.

Slender can’t detect MickeyWarr’s thought pattern at all. She watches for only a few seconds, and starts thinking to herself, “why did I do that? Is this wise? How can I leave? It’s

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Whilst everybody is watching the fight, MickeyWarr has walked calmly and purposefully towards Lieutenant Slender, determined not to alarm her.

“You don’t belong here. Do you want to stay with these people? I don’t! Come with me! Now!”

She instantly recognises the whole ploy, the diversion, the fight, and the shrewd newcomer trying to escape. Normally when something like this happens nobody comes towards her, they’re always running the other way. She’s never intervened in an escape before, has never had to, because there are usually some big, ugly pirates involved. And she has never, ever been invited to take part in an escape!

She looks at MickeyWarr. With a quick, subtle wink and a kind smile, she says, “I can’t! You go!”

That’s not the response he’d been expecting. Everything about the body language had said yes, and everything about the actual reply said no!

She whispers to him, “I want to go, but BlackCloud is my dad, I can’t leave.”

Devastating news!

Now, desperately trying to rework his escape plan on the fly, he quickly says, “I tripped over your foot, draw your sword, stick your boot on my back!”

He throws himself to the ground, and feigns an injury, yelling, “arghh!”

MickeyWarr attempts to act the invalid, and pretends that he can’t reach a sprained ankle, because he’s already pinned to the ground with a pirate’s boot on his back, and the tip of a rapier resting against his throat.

Lieutenant Slender is a better actor than MickeyWarr!

BlackDog’s two heavies abandon their fight, drop SpudGunn to the floor, and race over to beat up the would be escapee.

“Leave him, he’s mine! I caught him, I’ll sort this out. And anyway, he can’t even walk now! He’s not a threat.”

She does her best imitation of an angry pirate, “get up you pansy, or I’ll cut your throat!”

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further encouragement. They both lurch forward, overcoming the brake on the wagon, and the shocked workers all scatter.

The sudden force causes the heavy wooden tailgate to fall, and some sacks of potatoes and crates tumble to the floor.

Food! And premature good luck? MickeyWarr isn’t yet mentally prepared for his escape, but this is too good an opportunity to miss.

He watches as the heavy sacks land with a disappointing thud, each releasing no more than a handful of potatoes. When the wooden crates strike the ground they crack open, allowing some carrots and turnips to roll around aimlessly.

With a little more enthusiasm the cabbages bounce and roll in all directions, eluding the attempts of the workers to capture them!

“Spud!” says MickeyWarr, poking him in the ribs, “grab the cabbages!”

Lolloping like a hippo on a red hot veranda, SpudGunn bounds towards the runaway veg, trying to beat some of the others, determined to get to the far flung cabbages before anybody else does. Unlike the others, SpudGunn is not picking up the vegetables and putting them back into the broken crates! He’s undone his belt and he’s trying to stuff cabbages down his trousers.

BlackDog is quickly on the scene, just ahead of his two heavies. He lands the first strike, kicking SpudGunn’s rear end, thrusting him forward and causing his back to arch involuntarily. SpudGunn drops the cabbages in his hands and turns around. His trousers are falling down, and more cabbages spill out everywhere. Then he feels the punches land. One after another, to his chest, to his stomach and then a left hook to his jaw. He falls to the ground, whimpering. But the blows don’t stop.

They pick him up, “take it like a man”.

SpudGunn wraps his arms around his face, trying to protect it from the worst abuse. He’s physically lifted off the ground as the heavies haul him towards the Asylum.

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If he does that, will they both end up on The Whiffling Blackbird? And if that happens, she won’t have the chance to talk to him at all today.

How can she orchestrate a dialogue? Or even just create a calm space so that she can read his mind? She wants to instruct TallyBen to ensure that MickeyWarr is assigned to her ship The Frumious Bandersnatch, but she can’t make it that obvious.

This is a new experience for Slender. Actually taking an interest in a man. She’s not been keen on any of the pirates, and she hasn’t seen an attractive man since she left school more than three years ago.

The other new, and depressing experience is that of feeling helpless. Normally she can simply ask for anything she wants. As long as it’s within the confines of the BlackCircle she can get it. But, she can’t ask to meet a man whose name she doesn’t even know.

What would Merlin suggest?

He’d only tell her to start thinking for herself.

How can she escape this wretched lifestyle, and be herself again?

There’s a familiar noise. The hairs on the back of MickeyWarr’s neck stand on end. His heart misses a beat. He starts breathing faster than normal. The sound of horses’ hooves is coming closer. Lots of horses’ hooves. Two horses? Maybe four?

Two fully loaded wagons round the corner, four horses in total, each wagon with one steersman. The horses are brought to a sudden halt. But they’re frustrated, chomping at the bit, unable to settle immediately.

Four workmen rush to the wagons and haul back the tarpaulins, revealing large wooden barrels. MickeyWarr recognises these. Fresh drinking water. Probably for today’s mission. Are the wagons also carrying food?

Clawing at the ground, the lead horse is angry. She wants water, and the water trough is three metres away. She strains forward. The second horse is ready for water too and needs no

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Chapter 22
A Delicate Question

“Two ships going out today!” bellows BlackDog, “norf of Fflint there’s bounty coming down from Douglas, silver if we’re lucky, and they’ll have other metals too. And because we ‘ave two ships, you’re all needed on board. Where’s that SpudMutt? You’re not getting on my ship! TallyBen, make sure he’s on the Blackbird. Sort it out!”

BlackDog walks back to join the other officers who are quietly surveying the misshapen ranks of the conscripts.

Lieutenant Slender is there, trying to focus on the usual rabble, but she’s finding it difficult to stop herself from fixating on MickeyWarr. He’s standing next to SpudGunn at one end of the line.

His mind is on something else though, not Slender. He’s been looking around at everybody and everything. Perhaps there were one or two brief spells of eye contact, but the suppressed smiles on both their faces said only, “good morning, nice to see you,” and little else.

MickeyWarr certainly wasn’t paying attention to BlackDog’s pep talk! Something about two ships if he remembers correctly, and something about keeping SpudGunn away from him. MickeyWarr is busy on other things, trying to build a map in his head detailing the layout of the dock complex.

Slender can’t pick out any thought patterns. There are thirty people on the dockside, and others on board the two ships. A few more people are standing by the stores and by the main gate. There’s simply too much noise on the wavelengths.

However, she can see that MickeyWarr is concentrating on something, even though she has no idea what. Probably an escape plan, or at least a skiving plan, a plan to avoid working aboard either ship. That’s the sort of thing that the smart people think about.

But what seems really odd is that MickeyWarr is sticking close to SpudGunn.

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“I’d settle for cabbage! Bubble and squeak! Lovely potato and cabbage! Ooh you’re making me feel hungry again.”

SpudGunn looks at his empty plate, and then at MickeyWarr’s. Pointing, he says, “you gonna finish that?”

“Yep. I need to maintain my energy reserves today! You should go and ask for some more.”

“No way! I’m not stupid! I know about Oliver Twist! He asked for more, and all he got was more aggro!”

“So don’t ask for more, just take more, not here obviously, not right now! When I spot the chance to nick some food, I’ll tell you, and then we both grab armfuls of it. You in?”

“Food? You bet!”

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create a diversion. As long as nobody tells him that he’s a part of a plan, nor that it’s his job to draw attention away. That could allow MickeyWarr enough time to make a dash for the exit.

Fleetingly, MickeyWarr wonders if SpudGunn is actually a master tactician. Is it all an act? Is he acting dumb in order to get thrown out? Is it an unorthodox escape plan?

No! He’s not that clever! He’s been here two months. SpudGunn is no master tactician!

OK, the overall strategy is use the cover of food deliveries in order to escape. Now all that’s needed is a step by step plan. The diversion has to be set up so that SpudGunn doesn’t suspect anything. This is the easy bit. Invent some story about food. SpudGunn will fall for it, and the pirates will too. Who doesn’t like a bit of food? Well not this stodgy porridge obviously, but some story about something nice.

The hard bit is going to be creating an opportunity to talk to Lieutenant Slender. MickeyWarr is determined to leave, but before he does, he wants to understand more about her. Why is she here? She doesn’t fit. He’s convinced she would willingly leave as well. What if the two of them could run away together?

It’s time to sow the seed, and see if SpudGunn can be persuaded to help with a plan, even without knowing that he’s a part of the plan.

“I don’t know what they’ve done to this oatmeal today,” says MickeyWarr, picking up a spoonful and letting it drip from the spoon back onto his plate, “I wonder if the pirates get something better?”

SpudGunn has finished his plate of slop, and looks up clownishly, “they might get a better version of slop.”

“And the officers?”

“I bet the officers get proper food!”

“What do you think they get?”

“Dunno!” he replies, “eggs … sausage … bacon? Ooooh, bacon! I’d luvva bit of bacon! And an egg! Two bits of bacon, and two eggs, sitting on top of two lovely slices of fried potato waffle!”

“No cabbage?”

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Two types of robots.

There are ones who have tried to fit in with the pirate routine. They’ve become pirates, they can sail ships, do a useful job of work, and perhaps even board other ships and steal things. They get to live aboard one of the BlackCircle’s pirate ships, where the conditions are vaguely more tolerable than the conditions ashore.

The second class of robots is the group comprising the new arrivals and the dunderheads, people like SpudGunn. They tend to do what they’re told, but they’re a flight risk so they’re kept in the Asylum until they settle down. MickeyWarr has no idea why they’re hanging on to SpudGunn. He’s the sort of chap who should be pushed out of the gate and left to fend for himself. Though if they did that, he’d probably come back in again, the next time the gate is opened.

That’s it! The gate opens! Sometimes food and water is delivered, sometimes the middle men take away the bounty.

Looking around at the apathetic faces at the breakfast tables, MickeyWarr wonders if it might be best to work on a solo escape attempt. The ideal time to escape is when the gates are open for horse drawn carts to come and go.

A mass break out through the main gate is not going to work well, but one or two could slip through.

If only there were somebody else that he could count on for help. Somebody to help him reach the perimeter, and then maybe help to navigate the unfamiliar town of Boot.

It won’t be SpudGunn, that’s for sure, he would be more of a hinderance than a help. Nobody should be lumbered with him.

“Wait!” thinks MickeyWarr.

“Wait for what?” says SpudGunn.

“Oh, nothing!”

Thinking that he has to be more careful not to vocalise his thoughts, MickeyWarr concentrates.

He’s thinking that SpudGunn is the route to freedom. He can screw up anything. And with his abundant stupidity he can occupy several pirates at once. He’s the perfect candidate to

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to reveal her face. Morning is breaking. The face disappears, and the hat whispers, “kiss me, beneath the milky twilight.”

With a generous helping of grump from TallyBen, the hat in MickeyWarr’s tantalising dream vanishes. The firm kick to his hip drags him back into consciousness.

“Yes, kiss me,” he says.

“You what?” says SpudGunn, as he wakes just in time to avoid the next customary kick.

MickeyWarr’s luxurious dream is instantly destroyed as he sees SpudGunn looking at him quizzically. Where’s that wonderfully luscious journey, the one with the mystery girl leading him into the woods? Can he fall asleep again? Can he pick it up again? Just where he left off?

“Oatmeal again!” says SpudGunn.

A measure of watery sludge is dolloped onto his chipped, enamel plate, “wouldn’t mind some potato sometimes! Bubble and squeak even, with lovely tender cabbage, the way mum used to make it.”

Looking at MickeyWarr he says, “you know, cabbage, with just a bit of bite to it. And some steam gently rising, as the butter begins to melt and ooze over the top!”

“Butter!?” demands MickeyWarr, “when did you ever have butter? In your dreams mate!”

MickeyWarr doesn’t wait for an answer. He takes his breakfast and sits down at one of the long, uneven trestle tables at the far end of the Asylum. Like a lost puppy with no friends SpudGunn follows him, waddling like a British Bulldog. He sits at the opposite side of the same table.

“I’m getting fed up being stuck in this building!” says SpudGunn, “it would be nice to get out today, I’d be happy to be on a ship, doing a raid or something!”

“It’d be nice to get out, full stop,” replies MickeyWarr!

“How’s the escape plan going?”

“Pah! Look at these people! No ambition!”

The escape plan is going nowhere, because MickeyWarr hasn’t yet met anybody with enough gumption to do anything about their imprisonment. It’s as if they’re all robots.

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Chapter 21
Bubble and Squeak

TallyBen is not a morning person. And when it’s his turn to muster the crew he does it the only way he knows how. The grumpy way! With an extra helping of grump!

An extra helping of potatoes would be welcome according to SpudGunn’s dream! It’s a recurring theme. Sometimes with a bit of cabbage, or carrots, or even sprouts! Meat and potatoes would be nice. But potatoes seem to be the main feature.

Night after night. In SpudGunn’s dreams!

Sometimes it’s monotonous, occurring every few minutes in even one single dream. SpudGunn is not an imaginative fellow!

A flowered hat seems to be talking and walking by itself in MickeyWarr’s dream. Telling him to “take the trail marked on your father’s map” whatever that means. The ghostly body is not guiding the hat, but the wide, floppy hat is guiding the formless, shadowy body. Gradually and calmly, passing along a moonlit trail through the middle of a field of oats, towards some pine trees in the distant woods.

MickeyWarr isn’t fully participating in this dream, and nor is the body beneath the pale blue, straw hat. The hat is lightly peppered with occasional white daisies, alternating with little florets of mature oats, and it seems to be on the head of a long haired figure who’s wearing a long flowing, magnolia silk robe. The colours of the hat and its decorations are clear, though everything else remains indistinct in various shades of grey. Traces of moonlight create a ripple effect in the folds of the robe making it resemble the surface of a gently flowing stream with ever changing shadows.

The night sky acquires a trace of greyish blue, no longer black. The stars are still clear, though less illustrious now, and the hat bobs up and down, slowly and gracefully ambling along its peaceful, unhurried journey towards the woods.

No nearer the trees than when the adventure started, the mysterious figure turns to look back, but doesn’t turn enough

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