My Treasure

My Treasure: Chapter 1

A girl with dark hair braided down her back and sharp grey eyes scans the crowded market place. She keeps the cowl of her black cloak high, concealing her face from prying eyes. The girl moves through the crowd, slowing heading to docks, her favorite part of the sea side Northern English city. The wind blew stiffly through the streets, threatening to unveil her face. She eyed the numerous taverns and pubs as she passed them in turn. Yet for all her longing, she had not a penny to spare on a hot meal. 

The girl made it to the docks. The water underneath the wooden planking was choppy and unruly. The sea flaunting its power over man. She loved this. The girl knew she had no power over the seas, yet that didn't stop her from loving those vast and cold waters. They say the sea runs in an Englishman's veins; or Englishwoman, in her case. The girls soft and supple black leather boots make not a sound as she moves across the docks. She spotted a load of goods being loaded onto a nearby ship. Her eyes gleamed hungrily. She slipped up to the food stuffs and snaked her hand into a crate. She pulled her hand out with a loaf of bread, now she had her dinner for the night. She was about to move inconspicuously away, when a man spotted her. 

"Hey you, get back here with that!" he yelled after her. The man began to chase her, yet the girl's graceful form sprinted away. 

The girl was heading to the bell tower in the center of town. She was only a few turns away from her little niche in the bell tower, when the man pursuing her slid out from an alley ten feet in front of her. The girl spun on her heel and ducked into a nearby alleyway. Using her superior knowledge of the back streets and alleys of the town she spent her life in, she managed to slip away to her tower retreat. 

She climbed the winding stairs to the level directly under the level the bell was located. She paced behind a screen and into the little area she called home. A cot, an old armchair, and a coffee table were the only items behind the screen. That, and a hardwood chest where she kept her valuable items. All these items most likely pillaged from varying locations. 

The girl knelled in front of her chest and deposited a few items from the small black leather satchel at her side. Suddenly, she hears the slight scuffle of heavy boots against wooden floorboards. She draws the two scimitars she has strapped to her black leather belt silently and moves around to the far side of her room as the man advances on the screen. The girl slides forward and is about to subdue the man with a blow to the back of the neck when she scuffs her own boot against the floor.  The man spins around with wide green eyes at gawks at the lithe girl ready to impale him upon one of her swords. Dispensing with all secretiveness, the girl lunges into a ferocious attack. The man proves his own by parrying her every strike and managing to return a few himself. Through the whirlwind of blades, the girl manages to nick the man's cheek and draw first blood. The blonde man looks shocked that the small girl has managed to draw a line of blood across his face. He steps back from the fight. The girl runs the edge of her bloodied scimitar along her tongue and tastes the metallic blood. She smiles wickedly and runs up the flight of steps to the open top floor of the bell tower, directly beneath the great bronze bell itself. 

She is pacing in circles as the man climbs the stairs to meet his formidable opponent. "Now, now, don't get winded before the real fighting begins." The girl taunts. They both attack with renewed ferocity, the girl with her graceful strikes and fluid motions and the man with his strong and quick stance with his light cutlass. The girl's dawn grey eyes gleam as she prepares for a cunning attack. Suddenly, she feints downwards with her swords. Then as her opponent swords are down, she springs in the air and deals a crushing blow with her foot across the man's face. The man reels backwards, stunned by the powerful blow. He lifts his hand from his bloodied and broken nose and gawks at the crimson blood smeared across his hand. The man lunges st the slight girl with furious attacks, but his blind furry cost him. Both their weapons clatter to the floor, far out of reach. The girl, instead of going for her swords, throws herself at the man and wrestles him to the ground. She has a dagger she pulled from her boot pressed against his neck. 

"Make one false move, and I'll slit your throat." She warns in a menacing growl. She presses the blade closer and draws a thin line of blood across his fair neck. 

"Now, my dear, don't be so rash." The man says as he feels his warm blood trickle down the side of his neck. "For I too, have you at my will." The girl pinning the man down looks puzzled. Then, she can feel a slight tickle at the base of her skull. The man holds the tip of a small dagger at the back of her neck. She narrows her eyes at the man's cleverness. "Now why don't we call it a truce?" The man asks in a confident tone. He removes the blade from the back of her neck.

The girl stands and stalks off to one side. She has never before been bested in a fight or had to call a truce. She always won. The girl wipes her swords and dagger clean against a black cloth she produced from her boot. The man stands and dusts himself off. He is wearing dark leather boots laced up to his knees, light brown britches and vest, a red sash around his waist, and a billowy white shirt unbuttoned a third of the way down his chest. Over this he has a red British naval officers coat. Yet the brown tri-corner hat with the white plume, the headscarf about his head, the earrings decorating his ears and the other jewelry, and the sword belt slung around his hips, and not to mention his jaunty manner, leading the girl to believe that he was a pirate under the service of the Queen. 

The light from the setting sun shines across the man's messy blonde hair and clear green eyes. The light not only shines across his face, but reveals who the bread thief was. In the gleaming light, the man can tell that the girl so adept with her scimitars is in reality a young woman, a very slight and lithe young woman. 

"Why did you steal the loaf of bread?" The man asks bluntly. "Because I have none and you have many, you wouldn't miss it." The young woman replies casually. The man is unnerved by this woman's skill and bold manner, she definitely has been living on the streets for most of her life. But yet, she speaks eloquently, and has a upper class accent. This woman was a mystery all her own. 

"Now you've asked me a question, and it's my turn to ask you one." She continues. "Who are you?" 

"I am Captain Arthur Kirkland. I serve the good Queen and have harbored in this town. I am captain of the Red Sprite, which, may I remind you, you stole from. But, I will forgive that offense if you join my crew, I could use a strong fighter like you. Now it's your turn to tell me who you are." Arthur now has an upper hand on this mysterious woman. 

The woman realizes this, and gives out very little information. "I'm Marietta Addams. Call me Mari. And I guess I have no other choice, but to join you and your crew. Besides, I could use some money. You will be paying me fair wage of course?"

"Yes of course. Alright Mari, gather your things. We'll head back to my ship right now and sign you on before we leave tomorrow morning." Arthur walks down the flight of stairs and into Mari's small alcove. 

Mari dashes down the stairs and hurriedly begins to pack her belongings into her hardwood chest. She keeps her valuables tucked away in a pouch strapped around her midsection underneath her shirt, but this pirate captain doesn't need to know that. She packed her necessities into the satchel at her side. Everything else besides the armchair, table and cot go into her trunk. I can get new ones latter. Mari thinks to herself. She hefts her trunk over her shoulders and follows Arthur to his ship.

Author: That's all for this chapter. Sorry if stuff isn't time period correct, I'm trying my best. I hope you guys enjoy~!