The Mannix Attack

A tall figure stepped out from the nearby woods, heading straight toward the newly reformed pier. Jess took in a sharp breath at the sight.

“It can’t be,” she whispered. As Jess stood frozen on the sand, the one-time object of her nightmares marched straight past her, in flesh and blood, oblivious to anything but the docked ships.

It’s Grace O’Malley, Jess thought numbly. She looks so… human.

Grace’s hood fell away, revealing the tall woman’s cat-like features, long red hair and steely gray eyes. The way she moved was feline as well, like a lioness stalking her prey.

As Grace prowled towards the pier, Jess noticed two types of ships docked there. Most vessels were tall and proud, with dozens of white, triangular sails furled on their rigging. Others were squat and stout, with small square sails and rows of oars protruding from their sides.

I read about these at Selma’s store, Jess thought. Those oar-boats are called ‘galleys.’ The others are ‘tall ships.’ 

The beach and docks now lay virtually deserted. Only one skinny sailor with a pock-marked face rested on the deck of the first ship, fast asleep in the sun. He looked as happy as a lizard on a rock.

Quietly Grace stole up beside the dozing sailor, then she howled: “Sleeping on watch means a noose on the yard-arm!”

At the sound of her voice, the lizard-like sailor just about jumped out of his pimpled skin. He snapped up straight, saying: “It won’t happen again Milady.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” she snarled at him. “Why is the crew not at their posts?”

Beads of sweat dripped down his cheek. “They went to see the shipwreck,” he stuttered.

“Seven thousand curses on all of them,” she rumbled. “Right now Murrough Mannix and his entire fleet sail straight for us, not to see shipwrecks but to cause them.”

The sailor almost broke down in fear. “Surely it can’t be the whole Mannix fleet,” he stammered.

“’Tis nothing but the truth I said,” she growled at him. “Now make ready to set sail while I seek out the crew. Where are they?” He pointed to the horizon and she dashed off.

Meanwhile Jess watched the entire scene, a muscle twitching nervously at her temple.

Following her could be a huge dose of bad luck, Jess figured. No way am I going.

For a full minute, Jess watched Grace’s silhouette speed along the shoreline, her long emerald cape billowing in the wind. Something inside Jess had awoken, and that force ached for her to follow.

On the other hand, Jess countered, this is all a big hallucination. It might be much worse luck NOT to tag along. She broke into a run.

•••

A Shipwrecked Sailor

For a time Grace marched along the shoreline. Scrambling, Jess tried to follow as best she could. Suddenly the pirate queen halted. Jess stopped as well, surveying the spot.

Here the shore ended in a wall of waist-high boulders. The ocean hurled itself onto the rocks, sending a salty mist into Jess’s eyes. Shielding her vision, Jess spotted a small wooden rowboat lurching amid the tall stones. Its bow was completely shattered; only the back of the vessel remained intact.

A half-dead man sat in the smashed remains, his body braced against the boat’s wooden ribs, his skin a patchwork of purple bruises. The waves crashed around him, lifting his little boat-wreck before smashing it against the rocks. Through it all the shipwrecked sailor sat still and dignified.

A small mob milled around the shore. “Are you friend to Clan Mannix?” called the young man with the heart-shaped face.

“Speak, or you’ll regret it to your dying day… which may be upon you!” yelled another.

But nothing they said forced the man to move.

Now Grace strode into the scene. “Stop your noise you idle devils!” she called. Everyone went dead quiet. “What is this then?”

“We suspect another assassin from the Mannix, Milady,” said the young man with the heart-shaped face. “This stranger won’t say whether he’s friend or foe.”

Grace rolled her eyes a bit. “Ahoy!” she called out to the boat. There came no response.

She walked closer to the edge of the rocks and roared: “Ahoy there!”

Following her lead, the crowd moved a few steps closer to the surf. No one wanted to miss a word the stranger had to say. Still the man in the boat didn’t flinch, let alone speak.

Now Grace reached under her cloak, pulling out a wheellock pistol. Slowly she straightened her arm, aiming the gun right at the stranger’s chest. In a low voice she growled: “Speak, for I have a fearful temper.”

Bit by bit, the man turned his head, as if each muscle movement caused great pain. He looked at the gun, then at Grace. After what seemed like an eternity he rose to his feet, standing noble and tall while the surf crashed around him.

“Greetings, Grace O’Malley, richest of pirate queens!” he called. Jess noticed that his words came slowly, as if he didn’t know the language well. “I am Magnus Breakspear from the Nordic lands. Powerful storms brought me unbidden to your shores, thus I request of you permission before I enter the clan O’Malley’s realm.”

After he finished, the crowd held their breath, expectantly looking from Grace to the shipwrecked sailor.

The pirate queen stood frozen in place, her pistol still pointing directly at the intruder. After a few seconds, her angry snarl melted into a toothy grin.

“Well now,” she purred. “I’ve not heard a foreigner speak Gaelic so well since we taught that Turkish captain to say ‘I surrender my ships’ a fortnight ago.’” The mob behind her began to chuckle.

“One who shows such respect deserves our hospitality,” she said finally. Her arm dropped, the pistol pointing toward the sand.

A sigh of disappointment ran through the crowd. Jess heard one gravelly voice say: “That’s a Mannix spy, mark my words. The Queen could have ended his treachery with one round easy, fine shot that she is.”

“Aideen! Sean!” called Grace. A few pirates broke out from the crowd. “Take our new guest to Rockfleet Castle.”

Waves of emotion rushed through Jess. First came relief.  She had admired Magnus’ bravery and didn’t want to watch him die. A deeper understanding soon followed.

I might be having this dream for a reason, Jess grasped. The pirate queen is asking me to find her treasure again, only in a different way. However, the question no longer seemed frightening. Jess struggled to answer why.

A new sound broke up Jess’s thoughts. Indistinct grumbling erupted among the pirates. Jess heard one distinct whisper in the babble: “’Tis a rare day when a guest rests at Rockfleet.”

Grace cut the chatter short. Leaping onto the tallest boulder, she threw back her cloak and fired her pistol once into the air.

BOOM!  Jess jumped at the sound.

“Hear me!” commanded Grace. “The Mannix fleet approaches swiftly. To defeat them we must act quickly as well. Tall ships set sail immediately — galleys wait dockside with me.”

A chubby pirate with a flat face yelled out: “But you can’t do that Milady!  Everyone knows Murrough Mannix has a blood oath to kill you and steal our treasure. Anyone would think you’d be the first offshore.”

Grace started to laugh. She had a round, ringing chuckle that warmed Jess down to her toes. “That is what I hope for,” the queen declared with her toothy grin. “Now off to the ships!” Springing down from her boulder, Grace raced back toward the dock. A flock of pirates followed in her wake.

To Jess, the next few minutes were a complete blur. She saw pirates everywhere, like hundreds of white and green ants crawling across the ships. Some clambered up masts while others disappeared down holds. All pulled ropes in virtually every direction. In short order, the twenty or so tall ships were gone.

Only three galleys remained, their oars lined up like spider legs, ready to crawl over the ocean. Pirates on deck pretended to fix ropes or fiddle with tiny sails, but they were actually watching their queen, waiting for the signal to start.

Jess paced up and down the long pier. Those Mannix pirates will be here any minute, she figured. I mean, not that I care what happens in this dream.

All the while Grace stood on the far edge of the dock, staring at the ocean. Her gaze turned so intense that Jess thought the waves would boil into steam.

The air went deadly quiet. Seconds ticked off into minutes; minutes felt like hours. Before long, Jess couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t stood on that dock, nervously waiting for three galleys to take to sea.

Yet the pirate queen gave no signal.

Tension pressed harder, like electricity flowing around Jess’s body. One pirate said: “There’s a light wind today.” He was trying to break up the quiet, but no one bothered to answer him.

I can’t take much more of this, Jess thought, wringing her hands.

Finally the pirate queen roared: “Patrol speed!”

The galleys were docked in a row along the pier; Grace leapt into the last in line. Jess jumped in right behind her. There was a slight groan as the oars dropped into the water and another when the pirates below deck started rowing.

We’re on our way, Jess thought. But to what?

•••

The Battle of Clew Bay

The trio of boats soon hit open water. Grace stood at the bow of the last ship, her back to the ocean, her steely eyes scanning the busy pirates. A soft breeze rustled her mane of red hair.  

“First mate!” she called.

“Aye, Milady,” replied a muscular woman in an emerald cape.

“Ships will remain in a straight formation,” Grace instructed. “The command ship must be last in line.” The first mate repeated the message in a louder voice. Jess noticed caped figures doing the same on the other two vessels.

Jess pondered this order. The last in line?  she wondered. That will put the command ship closest to any attackers, probably not a good idea. Some of the crew shared her view.

“The Mannix fleet is the fastest what ever unfurled canvas to wind,” whispered one. “The last ship in line will be the first to meet them.”

“Aye,” added another. “What’s to become of us when she’s killed or taken captive?”

Somehow Grace heard every word. “Leave your much worrying,” she said in a low voice. “I must be last for Murrough Mannix will be first… and with his best sailors by him. I will say no other word to you.”

Nodding hesitantly, the pirates returned to their work. A heavy quiet crept over the deck, a silence broken only by monotonous slosh-thumping from the oars.

Jess scanned the ocean’s surface, seeing an uneven sheet of gray. There isn’t a single ship out there, she concluded, let alone a whole fleet. Maybe Grace made a mistake.

Suddenly a patch of little black spots popped onto the horizon: the Mannix fleet. Jess’s stomach started to writhe. Around her pirates began whispering once more.

“Why do we drift along at patrol speed?” moaned one deck hand.

“And why not?” snapped another. “I’ve no fear of a fight with the Mannix.”

“Quiet on deck,” yelled the first mate. The ponderous silence returned.

Jess peered out to the water for a second time. Now the Mannix fleet looked like a fleet of toy boats bobbing in the ocean, sunlight gleaming off their ornate, gold-painted hulls. Even at this distance she could see each ship bristling with cannons.

I can’t believe how fast they’re closing in, Jess thought. Maybe some of these pirates have good reason to be scared.

She ran to the ship’s stern for a better look. Leaning over the railing, Jess could make out two figures on the Mannix boat closest to her. One was a thin rail of a man in a black waistcoat. A wide hat with gold fringe teetered on his tiny head.

That’s probably the captain, Jess rightly surmised.

Next to him stood a shorter man, of similar build but simply dressed. A long purple scar ran across his face. Jess gripped the railing more tightly, feeling her blood run cold.

Grace slipped beside Jess, staring at the same two figures.

“Captain Murrough and his devil of a brother Cahir,” she growled to herself, “Today you deem you will have my lands, gold and head. But where is fear on a clear morning with light wind?”

With that, Grace waved at Murrough as if they were dear friends.

Oh no, Jess thought blankly. That can’t be good.

Murrough straightened his fringed hat, his face flushing pink. With rapid-fire precision, he bellowed out new orders. Sailors scurried about so quickly Jess couldn’t count them all. But she was able to tally the number of ships in his fleet — about two-dozen total — and Clan O’Malley had only three galleys.

Fear flooded Jess’s eyes. What will she do? she worried. These murderers will blow her little galleys apart. This dream is turning into another nightmare.

Murrough’s orders worked like magic. His sailors were experts, just as Grace had predicted. His ship began to pull away from the fleet. Jess knew they were closing in for the kill.

Stepping closer to Jess, the pirate queen spoke again.

“Murrough, you old dear,” she purred under her breath. With that, she blew him a big kiss and stalked towards the bow of her ship.

That did it, Jess decided, her heart sinking.

Murrough was of the same opinion. He began shouting new orders with a face so red it could burst. His sailors hustled faster than ever before. In no time, only 30 yards separated the Mannix command ship from its prey.

Now Jess could make out details on the enemy ship. She’d seen pictures of similar vessels, their prows decorated with carved mermaids. Instead the front of Murrough’s boat held a huge black snake, its length running from below-water to far above-deck. In its wide gaping mouth there hung two long white fangs.

“Whoa,” Jess cried on instinct, ducking below the waist-high railing. Peeking over the top, she eyed the snake ship’s captain.

If you could turn a rattlesnake into a person, Jess decided, Captain Murrough would be it. Tall and wiry, he had straight black hair and a long pointed face. His brother Cahir skulked beside him. Apart from the scar, he looked just like his captain only a foot shorter.

With a gasp, Jess figured the snake ship sailed a mere 20 yards away.

They’re close enough to fire on us, she guessed. So why don’t they?  Her mind reeled as she scanned the snake ship, looking for any sign of attack. Reviewing the massive weapons on deck gave her the answer.

Oh I see, Jess thought. All their cannon point out from the sides of the boat. Those things look way too heavy to move and no one’s bothering to try.To blast Grace’s ship into bits, Murrough needs to pull up alongside us.

At the rate his vessel was moving, Jess figured that would happen in about 60 seconds.

Murrough couldn’t wait that long. Racing to his ship’s prow, he clambered up the arched snake carving. With one arm wrapped around the carving for balance, he pulled out a wheellock pistol with the other. Steadily and carefully, he aimed the weapon straight at Grace’s heart.

Jess’s head snapped, turning to the bow of the O’Malley command ship. She didn’t want to watch Grace die, but couldn’t force herself to look away.

This is it, Jess decided with a rattling sigh. It’s all over now.

But the pirate queen gave Murrough one last wink and roared: “Pursuit speed!”

The oars of the O’Malley vessels slapped water at a rate Jess simply could not believe. Pounding thudded through the ship like a racing heartbeat. Almost instantly, the three galleys began pulling away from the snake ship.

Murrough shook with fury. He hissed new orders, even pulling a few lines himself. His tactics worked: the snake ship kept pace. Meanwhile the rest of the Mannix fleet grew smaller in the distance.

Grace stood at the bow of her ship, a curious look on her face. Try as she might, Jess found it impossible to guess what the pirate queen was thinking. No more whispers came from the O’Malley crew — everyone was consumed by pulling oars, ropes and sails.

Inhaling deeply, Grace yelled another order, her words snapping the air like a whip-crack.

“Steersman! Make for Clew Bay!” she howled. The O’Malley ships turned slightly and headed towards the shoreline. The snake ship stayed close on their tail.

The pirate queen’s voice rang out again: “Attack speed!”  

Two minutes ago, Jess could never have imagined that the O’Malley pirates could row any more quickly, but that’s exactly what they did. Oars pounded water faster and faster. All the while Murrough furiously crawled across his ship, helping his crew to yank lines and trim sails. Somehow he stayed right behind Grace.

Then Jess saw it.

The O’Malley galleys whizzed through a narrow opening on the shoreline. Within a few oar-strokes, Clew Bay opened up before Jess’s eyes, like turning a page in a book. The galleys entered a large body of water almost completely enclosed by land.

Now Jess saw something that made her shout for joy: the rest of the O’Malley fleet, bobbing happily in the bay, their cannon pointed directly at the snake ship. Grace’s pirates started to cheer. Before Jess knew it, Murrough’s lonely snake ship was surrounded by the entire O’Malley fleet.

The crew of the snake ship went hysterical. They wailed that the O’Malley queen was possessed by a demon, none other than the deadly Blood Witch.

“She’s cast an evil enchantment over the great Murrough Mannix,” Jess heard one sailor moan.

Meanwhile Grace seemed not to notice their cries. 

“First Mate,” the Queen ordered.  The caped woman sped to Grace’s side.  “Deliver a message to the distant Mannix fleet.” 

“Aye Milady.”

Grace paused a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought.  “It is truly touching how attached the Mannix are to their leader,” Grace said at length. “So ask them to surrender a tall ship filled with weapons if they ever want to see him alive again.”

“Aye, aye!” cheered the First mate. 

“You know,” Grace added with a dark smile, “that will make three tall ships I have gotten from this man. I really should thank him.”  At these words, her entire crew roared with laughter.

Jess began to chuckle as well, until a strange sensation stopped her cold — the bizarre icy feeling had returned to her temple.  A heartbeat later, the chilly sensation had sped down her neck and arms. Soon the world around Jess began to blur, like frost swelling across a window in winter. Jess stumbled around, searching for something to grab onto.

“What the?”  Jess mumbled.  Before she knew it, her surroundings had changed once again.

Now Jess stood on a deserted beach by a wrecked pier, clearheaded. Scanning the shore, she saw no tall ships, no reformed dock, and no pirate queen.

That was an amazing dream, Jess thought. Elation coursed through her. Why did it have to end so soon?

There would be no time for further analysis, however. Right then a cold, clammy hand grabbed Jess’s right shoulder.

The Pirate Queen, (c) 2005 Windstorm Creative. All Rights Reserved.