BBOTSS Travel Logue - Part 7

Editor's note: Black Beard and Turceda have parted ways in this logue. Thanks to some careful financial overtures toward Missandei, she has agreed to allow Turceda to continue scribing their side of the tale. Part of our agreement is that neither she nor Black Beard will receive any summaries of what the other is submitting.

TURCEDA

When Missandei rode up to the camp, I could see that her blue eyes were tired. Her attendant's had arrived the day before to prepare her flame red pavilion for her arrival. Water was already heating in an iron kettle over a small campfire. I accompanied my mistress as she dismounted and entered her pavilion.

After wiping the dust from her face with a wet cloth, she said, "Turceda, tell me what Black Beard has been doing since leaving Valaria."

So, I told her of our journey to Bonoba, the death of Amuhl, the excessive smoke-fests, and the recent battle with the Southern Snow Monster. She listened very closely, her eyes narrowing as I continued my tale.

"So, Black Beard has taken a liking to the Bonoban sweet grass? And on top of that, he is drowning himself in grog," she murmured quietly. "Keeping him intoxicated should keep him well under my control. I'll need him to do as I ask without thinking on it. If he were ever to learn the true nature of our grievances with the Ruffians, he might not be so inclined to be fighting on our side. Have Allerosa and Willas arrived yet?"

"Allerosa arrived two days past. Naoma the Large has Willas's force pinned to the west of the Ungris River. He will not be able to join us in the attack from this side of the Stronghold. Our messengers are still able to break the line of scouts Naoma has posted on the Northern Side of the Bellvillis River by sailing into the Bay of Males Internationales. Willas also sends word of a force massing near the Thorny Forest."

Knowing that my master would be displeased with what I said next, I paused. "Willas insists that we hasten our attack on Naoma, so that his forces do not get caught in a stranglehold between Naoma's cohorts and the Ruffian army."

"Oh, Willas insists, does he?" she snarled with contempt. "It's not like the Charlottans would be that big a loss. I'm sure that plenty of those weavers have defected to Naomida already. The Naomidans can become weavers if apprenticed to them. I will not risk the advantages we've gained over the fate of slaves. We will attack Naoma when we are certain of victory, and not before. It will take time to deploy the regiments to their locations." Missandei's eyes were flashing, their blue oscillating from ice to midnight. "

"We can always breed new slaves," her rage subsiding now, "Has Black Beard been talking to the Naomidans?"

I could see that giving Missandei a false answer here would result in another session of having every other feather plucked from my secondary tail feathers. "Yes. We are lucky that the Charlottans and the Naomidans still see themselves as allies rather than slaves. The Bonobans of course are too high on their foliage to even contemplate that they will one day answer to Valaria. The Naomidans have been regaling the pirate with tales of Naoma's love for cannibalism. Like most, flesh eating repulses Black Beard. He seems more allied to our cause than ever."

"Yes, Naoma is a blight that should have been removed long ago. I'm relieved that the ruse of alliance is still holding with our fellow Lexapidites. Torturing that group of Ruffians into attacking their lands and then offering them aid has worked its magic. Soon there will be no question of legitimate authority or ownership on this island."

At this she giggled, her smile the self-satisfied sort of facial expression that can only come from the feeling of power over the fate of others. "It is getting late Turceda. Summon my hand servants to fill the tub and bring me my babies. The last few days have been too dry and cool for them. Davahoss has developed peeling scales, Ronnamoss is wheezing when he flames, and Chuknoross hasn't eaten more than a sheep's stomach in the last two days. The hot water will rejuvenate them and make the feeding go easier."

"How aged would you like their after-milk treat to be?"

"I saw a strapping 10 year old as I entered camp. He should provide enough meat to satisfy them after dinner. Just make sure this one stays alive until the feeding is over," Missandei warned.

"As you wish my lady," I whispered as I bowed and exited.

* * * * *

BLACK BEARD

Well, when I be seein' the dragon mother ridin' up, I be tellin' Turceda that I best be keepin' me own logue while she be here. Missandei will be needin' Turceda to be keepin' her accounts, and the pirates code be urgin' me to be takin' back over me logue. A captain should be keepin' a captain's logue, not a giant mutant turkey of sorts. "Ye be passin' the sweet grass me way if ye be wantin' to be stayin' outta me brig Long Ears," I said to Long Ears.

I be takin' the rest of the log as me own before I be continuin'...

Ah, much better. Ever since we arrived on Bonoba, the sweet grass has been gifting me with insight into many of the things going on around us on this adventure. While I am still a pirate and follow the code, at times its hard to put aside that distinction of being and be able to communicate some of my deeper thoughts and feelings in my logue. The sweet grass forces me to discard my image and become the pirate I truly should be. I can express myself without feeling the pressure to reduce my thoughts to the vocabulary of a pirate. To those around me, I must appear intoxicated, but the truth is that this herb is gifting me with an aptitude toward super intelligence. I realize intelligence is something many consider to be a barrior to successful piracy. This is where they are wrong.

Being a pirate means creating an image of awe and earned fear. It's much easier to pillage a village when the citizens are too afraid of you to resist. Of course this image can only be sustained by accomplishing heroic feats under the eyes of attentive witnesses. In order to voyage to new unspoiled territories and receive the same fearful welcome my crew expects, I have had to use my mind to make it happen. One of the best examples of this is allowing myself to be exploited by my manager/editor. Exploitation and shameless self-promotion are two very effective tools of PR. I doubt that anyone ever thinks about the fact that targets have to be chosen, strategies devised and implemented, fear mongered, and the crew and ship cared for in order to run a successful piracy. Also, projecting the image of being a pirate (and a fairly brutish one at that) helps to obtain information others might not think you can access.

Since our departure from Missandei, I have had time to assess the type of person she is through her servant Turceda. I can tell that they are withholding important pieces of information from me. The Bonobans are too stoned to be useful in probing this secret, but luckily the Naomidans arrived before Missandei. I have learned that the Naomidans and the Charlottans are more closely allied than Missandei knows. I also know that they fear she is somehow instigating this war with the Ruffians.

Until Missandei's father died and she assumed power, these people lived peacefully with the Ruffians. Allerosa tells me that Naoma has always been a concern, but she could be contained.

When the Ruffians descended on the western settlements, both the Charlottans and the Naomidans were shocked. After the first attack, a consortium of Ruffians begged a meeting under the banner of truce. At the meeting, the diplomats explained that the Ruffians had disappeared from the eastern bluffs several months before the attack. The one who managed to survive the battle and retreated told tales of starvation, torture and mutilation at the hands of the Valarians. Ruffian spies had also reported a large number of Ruffians missing from rural settlements close to Valaria.

Allerosa has just entered my tent. I turn to her and ask, "Allerosa, what exactly happened that broke the truce you granted the Ruffians?"

Allerosa's face fell from half-smiling to a grimace. "Naoma, the flesh eater, and her minions descended upon the Ruffians as they began to mount the western foothills. She had found a girl with a very similar appearance to mine own. In the dark, she commanded the girl to lead a party of her best warriors, dressed in the royal livery of Naoma, to attack the diplomats. They allowed one of them to escape on purpose to report the attack as being launched by me. Naoma then sent word to the Mad Goat that I was also mistreating her and she offered her Stronghold as a launch point for their attack and as a bridge of alliance between her cannibals and the Goatmen."

Tears shone in Allerosa's eyes. "Thanks to that fat wildebeest, many of my people have been sacrificed on her bloody plate and the Ruffians hate us." Now she began to weep softly. "She masticated my beloved in her unholy pile of rock. Willas's best advisor was devoured. She chewed him between her massive incisors and then proclaimed herself ruler of Naomida."

"I'm sorry, but I must attend to my scouts. I will return before Cancer crests the horizon." She turned and slipped out of the tent.

Reports of this nature and the bloodlust exuding from Missandei's eyes, makes me question what is really happening on this island. I think that my crew and I need to figure out what is really going on before we face the Ruffians. Everyone is in agreement that Naoma must be put down, so that fight will need to commence

The sweet grass be startin' to be wearin' off. I must send Long Ears in search of another log. Allerosa and me be discussin' many a reports later, and I be needin' the herb to be helpin' me to be sortin' fact from fiction.

Ye scurvy dogs will be hearin' the outcome of these reports soon enough.