The Life, Lies and Tragedies of Jack Shipsteel 7

Chapter: 1 | Chapter: 2 | Chapter: 3 | Chapter: 4 | Chapter: 5 | Chapter: 6 | Chapter: 7

The sun filtered in through the miniature crack in the roof, and managed to hit me right in the eyes. I tried to ignore it, but that was as futile as trying to stop water from being wet.

I rose so very slowly from the bed, and as I did so, forgot all about the previous events. But as quickly as I wondered about the past, it returned to me. After that little lapse of memory, I realized I was clothed differently than I had been. Instead of filthy, brown rags, I wore a dirty, intricately designed green silken shirt. It wasn't nessecarily brand new, but to me it looked like a Governer's everyday apparel.

I then jumped off the bed and onto the floor. I wobbled around a bit, before I fell like a rock to the floor.

Just as soon as I had fell, there was a sudden sharp noise downstairs followed by the clutter of feet pounding up the stairs. Lo and behold, Mr. Warsteel appeared in the doorway to the room.

He found me upon the floor and then examined the whole room, apparently looking for any sign of what happened. He then asked me, "What in the blazes happened?"

I managed to say, "Just thought I would be making it out of the bed and on my feet this morning, Mr. Warsteel."

He chuckled a laugh that filled the entire room. Still laughing, he said, "You're just going to have to take it slow at first. Here, let me help you up."

He stooped down to my level and offered me a hand, and then a shoulder to steady myself on, while he told me what had happened during my slumber.

"You've been asleep for a few days now. I think you had exhausted the little energy you had that night. Probably would've kept you bed ridden for a few more weeks, but Janet whipped up a remedy and gave it to you while you were semi-aware."

I had risen by that point, and Leon tipped to the side and let his shoulder rest on the walls while he said, "That woman.. quite extraordinary. Don't know what I would do without her. She helps everybody she meets, Janet..."

He looked off into the distance for a about 15 seconds, and I had to cough silently for him to recognize that I was still there.

"Right then," he began, "Well, I'm pretty sure that after 9 week of being force-fed gruel and tea, you must be famished!"

He led me downstairs, and I caught the first glimpse of the Warsteel's residence. The first floor was decorated with tables and counters, all second-hand but pretty nonetheless, and had a few bookshelves in the room I took to be the main room. The walls were painted a deep blue, like the seas. And what really caught my eye was the soup cooking in the fireplace.

Leon led me to the table in what I presumed to be the Dining Room and let me sit down in a chair that was slightly smaller than the rest.

As he checked the soup, Mr. Warsteel told me the whereabouts of his wife.

"Janet is at the Royal, the local tavern here. She serves as a waitress there. I, meanwhile, work at the local blacksmith here at Port Royal. Some say I make the best weapons in the Caribe, but I find it all fabrications. Mine aren't but an average make. Here, take this. Chicken."

I took one sip of the newly placed bowl in front of me and became immediately famished. I finished the bowl and asked for seconds, and then later thirds. Mr. Warsteel just ate one small bowl.

After our breakfast was over, Mr. Warsteel told me the day's plans.

"I'll be taking you to the blacksmith with me for the morning and Janet will come around mid-afternoon and take you home. She works the morn' shift. The place is only a brisk walk from here. C'mon."

Together we walked through the doorway and into the bright, gleaming sun.

The town was astounding. I had grown up in the slums of Tortuga and hadn't seen two-story homes before, nor bridges, nor lamposts. Some of them still had the candles lit within them. I could see the whole town bustle in front of my eyes, and saw the entire working class of Port Royal, from the great bartender to the lowly dockworker. There wasn't a single urchin on the streets either. And I couldn't tear my gaze away from the giant fort on the hill that stood out from the rest of the town. The fort was made of stone and towered high over the town. Even from the great distance we were from the fort, I could hear musket fire.

I still was trying to take all of that in when Leon took me by the hand and said, "Let's go Jack. There will be plenty of sight-seeing later."

I tried to catch but a few second's more of the view, to no avail. However, my first impression of Port Royal told me of a truly noble city, all open to my viewing.