Art:AADM/Second round/A Shot Across The Ocean

The Short
= The Entry = There was no particular reason why the Mendoza was naked, at least no more than normal. Perhaps he enjoyed the sun on his bountiful chest hair, perhaps it was the feeling of the breeze wrapping around his ankles, or, more than likely, the effect it had on the morale of his prey. There is just something truly terrifying at the sight of a semi naked man wielding a cutlass with abandon. There was also something deeply philosophical about it, but Captain Mendoza didn't have the time to contemplate what it was. Instead he strode across the deck barking orders at his restless crew, each one obeying instantly in turn.

Most of his crew believed him to be demented. A few of them even thought him to be possessed by Davy Jones himself. All of them respected and feared him. In the end it didn't matter which they believed as long as they obeyed. It was the unquestioning obedience that had kept them all alive and for the most part well fed.

This realization pleased Mendoza as he turned his attention to scanning the sea, searching it for a target worthy of pursuit. It had not been easy to find a victim that would present both a challenge and a wealth of plunder. He would have to find a target soon or low morale would start to take its toll on his crew's efficiency, which none of them could really afford. Still, he was really a patient man, despite what most of the scurvy lot thought, and there was still time before morale truly became a critical issue.

It had now been more than fortnight since they'd sacked that military schooner. She had provided a modest enough sum of gold but her captain had turned out to be great disappointment. It had been all too easy to outmaneuver him and he had discovered that her captain was fresh out of the academy. The whole episode had left Mendoza feeling like a young bride who'd been left at the altar on her wedding day. It was a truly distasteful feeling and he scowled in disgust as he bark at a pair of unfortunate deck hands who hadn't been doing anything particularly wrong, but happened to be convenient in the moment he needed to vent.

Mendoza scowled again and was making his way back his cabin to ease his growing foul mood with a good stiff pint of the strongest rum he could find when the air was split by a ringing cry from aloft.

"Ship off the starboard bow, just on the horizon! Ship off the starboard bow!" the sailor from the crow's nest called as he pointed off into the distance."

There was a rush for the starboard rail as many of the ship's sailors hurried to catch a glimpse of the ship, in hopes it might be richly laden with gold. Mendoza slowly and deliberately made his way to the rail and held out is brawny hand. A sailor quickly handed him the ship's spyglass. Mendoza took it and scanned the horizon till he spied the vessel making her way northwest. She was a massive vessel with four masts and she was riding low in water. That meant she was likely a cargo vessel of some variety and was very heavily laden. From her direction, he figured she was probably carrying gold or silver bullion from the mines to the south toward a rich port along the coast some two hundred leagues off. Not exactly what he would call a challenge even though she out-classed his ship in size.

Mendoza closed the glass and handed it back to the sailor who'd given to him. A hush fell over the ship as the crew waited to see whether or not this vessel had caught their captain's fancy. For a long moment all that could be heard was the creaking of the rigging as the wind strained against the sails and the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the vessel. The spell was broken as Mendoza boomed, "Navigator, take a heading of north by northeast! Every hand look to your station and run up full sails!  Guns, be at the ready!"

Instantly the ship was an explosion of activity and noise as the crew set to work rigging her for full sails as they shifted to an intercept course. Satisfaction settled over Mendoza as he watched the crew work feverishly to get every ounce of speed out of the ship. He would have to remember to order an extra ration of rum be given to every sailor that night for the exceptional work.

Mendoza mounted the forecastle to watch as he closed in on his quarry, sweat and sea spray mixing to glisten on his massive tanned frame. He licked his lips tasting the tangy spray that was rapidly dampening his mane of a beard. He crossed his arms in deadly determination and took up the look of a barbarian king bent on destruction. It was an image he'd cultivated the past couple of years. He wanted to be sure that the crew of the other ship saw him defiantly standing forward as he bore down on their ship as if he were Davy Jones himself come to claim their souls.

As he watched, he realized that his prey had shifted direction slightly and was headed toward a bank of fog. Not unexpected but he thought a tad early for the ship's captain to truly realize the danger he faced. Still the ship must carry a store of wealth and her captain was taking no chances on these pirate-infested waters. At the rate they each were going the other ship would reach the fog when they were just out of cannon range.

Mendoza stared the bulky ship down as she slipped quietly in to the fog. "Good." Thought Mendoza, smiling to himself. "A nice little game of hide and seek on the ocean."

The crew fell silent as they, too, slipped easily into shrouded mist. Mendoza strained for the sounds of the other ship to determine her bearing, knowing that a good captain would alter his course to evade the barbarians who typically would not alter theirs. Unfortunately for them he wasn't some typically brainless barbarian. He signaled the crew to alter the course slightly on a heading that would bring them online with the nearest port.

The ocean and the swirling mist remained eerily silent as they continued. Its cold, damp tendrils wrapped itself around Mendoza's frame like a tender lover. Mendoza savored that sensation almost as much as the thrill of the hunt. Then slowly at first then more quickly the mist began to melt away as his ship began to escape the blindness of the fog. Soon she broke free and shot out into the open sea.

At first it appeared that the sea was empty. He searched quickly for where he expected his quarry to be but she wasn't there. Soon he spied her far off to port hugging the edges of the dissipating fog. "Well, well, well." Mendoza thought in surprise. "She has a clever captain to break from port and head toward open seas." Mendoza barked some more orders and the crew brought the ship around and resumed its intercept course once again.

For more than an hour Mendoza played cat and mouse with his opponent, each of them sliding in and out of the misty edge of the fog. First one ship disappearing momentarily then the other. Slowly and steadily Mendoza was gaining on the heavily laden ship. She was surprisingly fast for a ship her size but her cargo was slaking her speed noticeably. The stiff tailwind he was enjoying seemed to drive them at the other vessel as if anxious for the battle to begin.

Mendoza gave the order to hoist the colors. He knew that there was little to gain at this point in the chase by hiding it and much in the way of fear to gain. He watched as the sleek red flag with the large burly fist clutching a sword along the blade took to the sky and strained towards the ship ahead.

Once again the ship ahead disappeared into the fog and was gone from sight. Long minutes passed -first one, then five, then ten. The other captain was trying something. Mendoza signaled the crew to greatly reduce the ship's speed. Time was on his side so there was no reason to be overly eager. He could patiently catch up again if they burst from the fog far ahead. Long minutes continued to drag by.

Suddenly the large vessel erupted from the mist on nearly a perpendicular course to the one she had been following. She was close, much closer than Mendoza expected. The wily captain had laid his own trap and now had Mendoza's vessel lined up to be broadsided. From this distance Mendoza could see several guns aimed out the port side of the other ship and fortunately away from him. "So she wasn't as defenseless as she appeared she had a good size complement of long nines from the looks of things." He thought

Mendoza spat an order to come hard to port, thanking the sea spirits for his decision to be patient and slow his pursuit. If he hadn't, the other ship would have had a clear shot at the vulnerable rudder and the aft portion of the ship.

Time seamed to slip into slow motion as Mendoza continued to fire orders at his crew. There was a flurry of activity on the other ship as the crew scurried to move the guns back to starboard, apparently all of them moved to port in a gambit to catch Mendoza from behind. His crew strained to bring the ship around quickly and bring their guns to bear on the enemy vessel.

Time seemed to crawl ever more slowly as each crew worked feverishly to gain the upper hand. In that moment Mendoza saw on the forecastle of the other ship a fanciful figure dressed in finery of deep blood red with sparkling gold trim, a wide-brimmed hat with a large gold feather adorning his head. It was the captain of the opposing ship, his worthy opponent. Mendoza smirked with pleasure as he noted that his opponent, too, stood defiantly at the head of his ship.

Their eyes met and locked in a moment of mutual respect and understanding. Mendoza knew that this man, this enigmatic figure, was his equal and was not seeking escape, but was bent on the duel as much as he was. They were not predator and prey but more like a pair of wolves fighting for the leadership of the pack, predator versus predator.

Mendoza threw back his head, thrust his cutlass into the air, and bellowed his salute to his opponent - the muscles of his massive chest becoming taut and rigid, his skin glistening with sea spray in the afternoon sun. In reply the other man drew his rapier, brought it to his face and then dropped it down pointing at Mendoza.

The moment lingered as both ships eased into position. A stillness of epic proportions momentarily surrounded the ships as they squared off against each other. Then almost in tandem each man signaled his crew and the deafening roar of cannon fire shattered the silence. Mendoza felt the deck shake first from the firing of his cannons, then by the shots from the opposing ship as they tore through the wood of his ship. The smell of gunpowder, the sounds splintering wood and the heat of battle assaulted his senses.

The sea breeze quickly pushed the smoke away and Mendoza saw that neither ship was badly damaged. He ordered his sailors to try to come around aft of the other ship knowing that his opponent would counter it and wasn't disappointed. Just when it looked like the other ship would be able to broadside them again, Mendoza ordered another sweep to port. The cannons from the other ship boomed, leaving more smoke to hang in the air. Great jets of water spouted from the ocean very near to his ship. Mendoza smirked wryly as he completed the maneuver that had resulted in the enemy cannonballs just missing his ship.

His gambit had the additional benefit of bringing his own guns to bear on the opposing ship. At the moment when Mendoza calculated he could inflict the most damage on the larger ship he signaled his crew to fire. The ship reeled under the explosion of his ship's compliment of starboard long nines. As the smoke from the exchange cleared Mendoza saw that he'd missed just long. The opposing captain had executed an expert maneuver that had just brought his ship inside the arc of the shot.

"There was no doubt about it," Mendoza thought, "This captain knows what he is doing." Mendoza set about barking more maneuvering orders and took command of the navigation wheel himself.

On and on they battled until the sun started to wane, both ships circling each other in a slow waltz upon the ocean, each dancing vessel trying to take the lead over her partner, with neither ship being able to inflict anything more than superficial damage.

They continued to trade ineffective shots at each other until an inspiration came to Mendoza and he quickly formed a plan in his mind. He signaled his adversary his desire for a conference. He waited as he watched the other captain have a hurried conversation with a sailor whom he presumed to be his first mate. A moment later the other man signaled his acceptance. As a show of good faith each ship pointed her compliment of guns into the ocean depths and drew within easy earshot.

As they drew close Mendoza called to the other ship, "Ahoy! I be Cap'n Mendoza of the fine vessel 'Hordes' Wake'. This lil' dance of ours be getting us nowhere. We be doing nothing but wasting good cannonballs.  What I propose, Cap'n, is that you and I duel for the right to plunder the other's supplies.  The loser will give up a quarter of all gold and supplies to his better.  What say ye to that, me worthy friend?"

The opposing captain paused a moment in contemplation, then a wide grin split his face and he shouted back, "I am Captain Jellico of the good ship 'Brigand's Bane' I accept your challenge on the condition that we abide by the Buccaneers' Rules for dueling upon the plank. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" shot Mendoza, a wide grin of triumphant settling on his own broad face.

The two ships drew along side each other and a wide plank was placed to bridge the gap between the two ships. The decks of both ships quickly became crowded with sailors wishing to watch their captains duel. Many were exchanging their own wagers with sailors from the other crew.

Mendoza mounted the plank with his stout cutlass in his hand. The waning light of day glistened orange and gold off the skin of his massive frame. He allowed the muscles of his bear chest to contract and bulge for the benefit for of his opponent. This bit of showing off brought cheers of support from his own crew and some jeers from his opponent's crew. Mendoza grinned and bowed in acknowledgement and subtly signaled his first mate during his over done drama. He noticed with satisfaction that the man slipped away quietly below deck.

Mendoza watched as Jellico, not wishing to be outdone in even this bit of bravado likewise mounted the plank in a great show of flashy swordplay.

For a moment they paused in silence and stared at each other sizing up each other's skills. Mendoza could see by Jellico's wiry frame that he relied on speed and dexterity. He would have to be careful and allow his strength to offset Jellico's speed and keep him off balance.

Mendoza struck first sending a savage blow at Jellico's head. His opponent ducked and parried the blow but was forced back a few inches, but managed to send a whistling cut at Mendoza's chest. Mendoza threw his weight back avoiding the swipe by a hair. The fight was on.

Their swords sang and whistled as they parried and struck at each other. The plank creaked and groaned as they moved about across it, first toward Jellico's ship and then back to Mendoza's. Soon Mendoza was so absorbed in his own swordplay and that of his opponent that he no longer noticed the shouts and cheers of the sailors that surrounded them on both decks.

"How long had they been fighting?" Mendoza wondered in between parrying a well placed trust and sending his own leg sweep? Twenty minutes perhaps, maybe even longer. Had his second in command had enough time yet? One thing was for sure, this fight would end in a draw. If only he focused and drew blood he would be able to bring this contest to an end and allow them part with great respect for each other. He fought on waiting and watching for an opening.

When the moment came he sent a lightning stroke up at Jellico's face and backed away. To Mendoza's delight he saw a thin line of red appear on Jellico's left cheek. He grinned in triumph then noticed the small drop of blood clinging to the tip of Jellico's rapier. A quick check revealed that he had an almost identical cut just below his left collarbone.

"What say we call this a draw my friend?" Called Jellico from near his own deck. "We appear to be as equal with the blade as we are at command." Jellico grinned at him as he wiped his blade clean.

The air fell silent as all eyes turned toward Mendoza. He paused, grinned broadly and said. "Aye friend. That we should." They met each other in the middle of the plank and grasped arms in a show of solidarity and brotherhood. With this the sailors of both crews cheered wildly and made ready to part ways.

As they started to move away Jellico call out, "Maybe sometime we should work together to plunder these seas. I dare say we could bring in quite a haul you and I."

Mendoza looked over smiling and said, "Aye.  Pirates like us would do well together.  Until we meet again, fair winds, my friend."

"And to you as well." Said Jellico with a bow.

Mendoza watched as the ships slid away from each other, the wind once again moving across his bare body giving him a feeling of power and freedom.

As he watched his first mate approached. "How much were you able to sneak aboard during the duel?" Mendoza asked.

"It was a good haul Cap'n. I would guess about ten thousand in gold if I judge correctly and about another five in commodities." Answered the mate smartly.

"Excellent!" beamed the captain.

"But sir, there is something you should know." Offered the mate almost apologetically.

"Oh? Is there something amiss?" Mendoza asked cautiously.

"Aye." Replied his mate gravely. "As we were stowing the booty I noticed that several of our crates had been tampered with, so I checked and we are missing gold and supplies."

Mendoza whirled to look at Jellico's ship in the distance. "How much is missing?"

"Between gold and supplies," reported the mate, "I estimate we lost about fifteen thousand in total value."

Mendoza stared at disappearing ship for several minutes, his first mate standing warily nearby. When Mendoza finally couldn't stand the tension any longer he threw back his head and roared with laughter. "It would appear we fought to a draw in every area, my friend." Mendoza said between chuckles when he started to settle down. "Make sail and let's find a merchant ship to plunder."

The First mate turned to set the crew to work but Mendoza quickly added, "Have the gunners fire a single shot in their direction."

"Aye Cap'n." was the reply as the first mate hurried off to direct the crew. Soon a single shot rang out across the ocean. As it echoed across the waves Mendoza stood on the forecastle allowing the sea spray to drench his body as he watch his opponent slowly shrink into the horizon. He wondered when they would next meet again and whether or not it would be as friends or adversaries. As if to answer him, a single distant shot echoed back across the sea and then Jellico and his ship were gone.

Mendoza smiled and said softly to the wind, "Aye, my friend, I look forward to our next meeting as well." With that Mendoza turned to west and enjoyed the last rays of the sun as it caressed his bountiful chest.