Pirates of the Storm (Stranded In Time Book 1) Read Free Page A

17 th century attire. “Oh, yes, I fell in the water
during the storm and had to take off my other clothes so I didn’t
get pulled down.”
    “What be yer business
here?”
    “I, uh…”
    “Might ye be here to spy on us and
steal our booty?”
    “No, no, definitely not! I’m a
traveler and I got caught in the storm...”
    “Methinks ye be a spy! Gentlemen,
secure the prisoner in the hold and the Captain can decide his fate
when he returns from Port Royal.” Several of the other men advanced
on Jeff and dragged him below deck, shackling him to a beam before
leaving him in the darkness of the ship’s hold.
    “What the hell is going on?” Jeff
thought to himself. He figured he must be dreaming, but it was all
so real! He could hear the men up on deck going about their work
and water lapping at the sides of the wooden hull. Thin lines of
sunlight shined through the spaces in the deck planks above him.
Nearby he could hear the scuttling noises of what he guessed to be
rats moving around him in the cargo. The best case scenario was
that this was indeed just a dream, but as much as he wanted to
believe that, he knew deep down that this was all real. He somehow
had been transported to 1688, and he had no idea how to get back to
his own time. An even more pressing concern was that if the ship’s
captain thought he was there to spy on them, there was a good
chance he’d be killed! These thoughts occupied his mind for quite
some time until he heard the men arguing on the deck above. He then
heard footsteps coming down the stairway to the hold. The door was
unlocked and several of the crew seized him, unlocked his shackles
and dragged him up on deck.
    As two men held him on either side,
the large scar-faced man from before stepped up in front of Jeff
and said, “We decided not to wait fer the Captain. It be me
judgment that you be a spy. Ordinarily, we be hangin’ ye straight
away, but methinks ye shall provide us with some entertainment
first!”
    Jeff started to plead, “I’m not a spy,
I’m just…”
    “Silence!” the man boomed. “Ye shall
be given a chance. All ye have to do is be victorious in a fair
fight and ye shall be spared.” Turning to the crew, he yelled,
“Lads, who wishes to fight our spy?” A huge uproar ensued, with
nearly every crew member vying to be selected. The scar-faced man
looked from man to man and finally settled on one. “Mr. Harrison it
is!” he yelled to a round of cheers from the crew.
    Harrison was a tall, muscular man who
stepped in front of Jeff bearing a menacing smile and a sword as
the rest of the crew backed up, forming a large circle around them.
“Get the spy a means to defend himself!” ordered the scar-faced
man. With that, one of the crew pulled a mop from a bucket and
threw it head first into Jeff’s face, eliciting a burst of laughter
from the others.
    The dirty water stung Jeff’s eyes, but
his adrenaline was pumping and he quickly grasped the mop as a
fighting staff. “You call this a fair fight?!” he yelled, as
Harrison began making cuts in the air with his sword.
    “As fair as it gets for a spy!” the
scar-faced man shouted back. Jeff knew that pleading with them was
hopeless, and realized his best hope of survival was to use the
fighting skills he had developed in his several years of martial
arts training. He also knew that surprise would be his best ally,
so he decided to look as pitiful as possible wielding his mop and
hope that Harrison would be caught off-guard.
    Jeff held the mop head out in front of
him as Harrison advanced, slicing the air repeatedly with his sword
as he neared. As Jeff had hoped, Harrison’s first attack move was
to slice the head off of the mop handle, leaving a reasonably good
fighting staff. But Jeff had no illusions. Harrison’s blade was
razor-sharp and he was obviously an experienced swordsman. Jeff
moved his grip on the mop handle so that he could attempt to block
and parry with both the middle and ends of the staff.