The Irish TreeThe sky above Shells town was clear and blue. There wasn't a cloud visible in any border of the horizon, because everyone of them was evaporated by the harsh sun beating down on the on the world below. The day was so bright even looking at the calm waters causes eyes to water and sun spots to coat a man's vision.
One such man, a tall old marine with a barrel chest, chestnut hair, and eyes like the grey scales of a dead fish winced after making the mistake, again of looking down at the ocean. "This blasted sea." He muttered. His face was gray, and his stomach was empty. Its contents were a few meters back, being fought over by a school of fish. "This blasted sea." He shook his head, trying to reign in what was coming, but failed. He dry heaved and kept on at it until he managed to dehydrate himself further. "How much longer?" The marine moaned, burying his face into his massive hands, hands that were too big for his form.
"A few more minutes sir." A tiny lieutenant standing by his side said. "You could see the island getting quiet large on the other side of the boat."
At that the marine's face went paler, but it couldn't be seen because of the hands in the way. He frantically shook his head. "Oh!" He moaned. "No. No. No. No. At the front its even worst." He shuddered. "Don't even remind me we've got a front to this thing."
"Yes sir." The tiny man sighed. His dark curly hair bobbed whenever he was annoyed.
"And what about our prisoner?" The man asked. He put a hand to his stomach, hoping the action would do something to relieve the storm but it didn't work and the motion just brought more bile to the back of his throat.
"Lillian!" The short man said, spitting the word out as if he bit something bitter with thorns he'd somehow managed to miss. "She's fine. Great spirits that one. You can't step inside her cell without getting a barrage of insults. It's like a firing squad that's only going to cause you pain but nothing else."
At that the ship's captain smiled. "Good. Let's see if that spirit stays with her at the gallows." The smile quickly disappeared as the man put his head over the ship's railing and heaved again.
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Deep in the ship's bowels a woman stood, her long red hair shook from the soft, but steady breeze that poured in through the a tiny hole in the wood. It was refreshing enough to help ease the tension that had built within her shoulders for the last couple of days. Getting caught had been a terrible turn of events, but at least she didn't have to run at the moment. Her legs could rest. Once lady luck showed her the cards she'd take it and be fresh for a sprint.
There was a knock at the door. "WE're coming in. Make a move and we'll get you down." Then the doorknob turned and pushed inward.
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The docks were welcoming. That wasn't a surprise. The island was controlled by the old marines after all. Three men were waiting when the ship's captain and first mate stepped off, followed closely by a couple marines, the ones that never stood out wherever they were, dragging the prisoner along.
"Captain Ruckus?" A tall dark skinned man with a belly like a bath tub raised his hand to the captain. "I'm Effen, Motha Effen. I'm in command here." Ruckus took his hand and gave it a quick shake. "And these are my personal guards Cross Alex" he pointed to the paler of the two who had what looked like a large boomerang taped to his back. "And Miss Lisa Star" he said pointing to a woman with a jaw that could crack stone and arms like pythons after eating a deer.
Ruckus nodded at the two without a word before turning his attention Motha. "Are you marines ready?"
"Sir?" Effen said, suddenly full of panic.
The captain gave a short sigh. "For the execution display! Do you have guards set up? Is the executioner and his block ready? What about the word? Did you put out the word that everyone in the town is to be there?"
At that Motha nodded most vigorously. "Yes sir! Of course. And is this here the prisoner?"
"That's me!" Abbigaill raised her head to look at the man. Her smiled reached from ear to ear. "I'll be the entertainer and decorator for this evening. I'll leave them all gasping and paint the place red." She faked a frown. "And I'm not even getting paid. How is that for a better world."
"Shut up!" ONe of the marines shouted as he slammed the butt of his gun against the back of the woman's head. The impact was enough to bring the redhead to her knees.
Ruckus turned at the woman with the red hair. She was smiling again, despite the blood that was running down the side of her face. "Yeah, that's her." Without a word he turned and started walking towards the center of town. "This is a small island and I need to get my land legs back. That should give you enough time to get everything in order."
"Sir" Effen snapped a salute and turned to Star. "You heard the man, see to it the word goes out. Shout in the streets!" He turned to the other man. "And you! Go find out whose job it is to put the show in order and get it done!" Both guards gave a figorous nod before turning and rushing into the city proper.
"Stress. Stress. Stress." Effen moaned. "I can already feel a headache coming on!"
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In the streets marines ran left and right, shouting about the mandatory public display the marines were hosting at the center of town. Failure to attend would be seen as an act of treason.
One such man, a tall old marine with a barrel chest, chestnut hair, and eyes like the grey scales of a dead fish winced after making the mistake, again of looking down at the ocean. "This blasted sea." He muttered. His face was gray, and his stomach was empty. Its contents were a few meters back, being fought over by a school of fish. "This blasted sea." He shook his head, trying to reign in what was coming, but failed. He dry heaved and kept on at it until he managed to dehydrate himself further. "How much longer?" The marine moaned, burying his face into his massive hands, hands that were too big for his form.
"A few more minutes sir." A tiny lieutenant standing by his side said. "You could see the island getting quiet large on the other side of the boat."
At that the marine's face went paler, but it couldn't be seen because of the hands in the way. He frantically shook his head. "Oh!" He moaned. "No. No. No. No. At the front its even worst." He shuddered. "Don't even remind me we've got a front to this thing."
"Yes sir." The tiny man sighed. His dark curly hair bobbed whenever he was annoyed.
"And what about our prisoner?" The man asked. He put a hand to his stomach, hoping the action would do something to relieve the storm but it didn't work and the motion just brought more bile to the back of his throat.
"Lillian!" The short man said, spitting the word out as if he bit something bitter with thorns he'd somehow managed to miss. "She's fine. Great spirits that one. You can't step inside her cell without getting a barrage of insults. It's like a firing squad that's only going to cause you pain but nothing else."
At that the ship's captain smiled. "Good. Let's see if that spirit stays with her at the gallows." The smile quickly disappeared as the man put his head over the ship's railing and heaved again.
--------------------------
Deep in the ship's bowels a woman stood, her long red hair shook from the soft, but steady breeze that poured in through the a tiny hole in the wood. It was refreshing enough to help ease the tension that had built within her shoulders for the last couple of days. Getting caught had been a terrible turn of events, but at least she didn't have to run at the moment. Her legs could rest. Once lady luck showed her the cards she'd take it and be fresh for a sprint.
There was a knock at the door. "WE're coming in. Make a move and we'll get you down." Then the doorknob turned and pushed inward.
-------------------------
The docks were welcoming. That wasn't a surprise. The island was controlled by the old marines after all. Three men were waiting when the ship's captain and first mate stepped off, followed closely by a couple marines, the ones that never stood out wherever they were, dragging the prisoner along.
"Captain Ruckus?" A tall dark skinned man with a belly like a bath tub raised his hand to the captain. "I'm Effen, Motha Effen. I'm in command here." Ruckus took his hand and gave it a quick shake. "And these are my personal guards Cross Alex" he pointed to the paler of the two who had what looked like a large boomerang taped to his back. "And Miss Lisa Star" he said pointing to a woman with a jaw that could crack stone and arms like pythons after eating a deer.
Ruckus nodded at the two without a word before turning his attention Motha. "Are you marines ready?"
"Sir?" Effen said, suddenly full of panic.
The captain gave a short sigh. "For the execution display! Do you have guards set up? Is the executioner and his block ready? What about the word? Did you put out the word that everyone in the town is to be there?"
At that Motha nodded most vigorously. "Yes sir! Of course. And is this here the prisoner?"
"That's me!" Abbigaill raised her head to look at the man. Her smiled reached from ear to ear. "I'll be the entertainer and decorator for this evening. I'll leave them all gasping and paint the place red." She faked a frown. "And I'm not even getting paid. How is that for a better world."
"Shut up!" ONe of the marines shouted as he slammed the butt of his gun against the back of the woman's head. The impact was enough to bring the redhead to her knees.
Ruckus turned at the woman with the red hair. She was smiling again, despite the blood that was running down the side of her face. "Yeah, that's her." Without a word he turned and started walking towards the center of town. "This is a small island and I need to get my land legs back. That should give you enough time to get everything in order."
"Sir" Effen snapped a salute and turned to Star. "You heard the man, see to it the word goes out. Shout in the streets!" He turned to the other man. "And you! Go find out whose job it is to put the show in order and get it done!" Both guards gave a figorous nod before turning and rushing into the city proper.
"Stress. Stress. Stress." Effen moaned. "I can already feel a headache coming on!"
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In the streets marines ran left and right, shouting about the mandatory public display the marines were hosting at the center of town. Failure to attend would be seen as an act of treason.