The Widow’s Saloon (Part 4 of 7)
Last Time, in Part 3: A wake formed, Alistair cut his thumb, and Death played the trumpet.
Chapter 6
One day, a few weeks after the saloon’s grand opening, pirates were spotted approaching Harbor Side by a guard in the town’s watchtower. The guard rang the alarm bell to warn the community that danger was near.
At the Dotted Ox, Vlorance looked up from the stacks of paper bills she was counting when she heard the bell. She listened to the pattern of its ringing and, realizing what was happening, rapidly shoved the previous week’s take into a black iron safe. She locked it and spun the combination dial. Vlorance shuffled to the saloon’s front window, wiping her glasses with her floral apron. She settled them on her nose and looked out at the ocean.
The Ox was several streets inland, uphill, closer to the jungle than the dock. Normally, the location was a nuisance for vendors and patrons who wanted to navigate Harbor Side’s bumpy dirt roads as little as possible. Now, as Vlorance looked out at the bay over the skeletal frames and foundations of structures still under construction, she felt grateful to be positioned away from the waterfront.
She was not sure if it was her imagination, but she thought she saw a single ship floating in the harbor, halfway between the town’s docks and the passage leading to the open sea. She hoped it was a trick of the light, but from where she stood, the ship appeared to have large black sails.
The saloon doors burst open, making Vlorance jump in surprise.
In strode Captain Marces, skipper of the Delta Comet. He was building a reputation as one of the few captains capable of outmaneuvering the pirate fleets that criss-crossed the waters of Ocean Bay. The captain looked resplendent in a long red coat adorned with gold epaulets and a double row of gleaming silver buttons. He wore the garment draped over his shoulders like a silk-lined cape, leaving his arms free to unroll a stack of currency. He peeled a high-denomination bill from the top of the roll even as he walked.
His nearly knee-high boots glinted in the sunlight as he surveyed the saloon. Not noticing that he had walked directly past Vlorance, he leaned back and bellowed, whipping his black tri-corner hat from his head to reveal short, sandy-blonde hair.
“I require alcohol!”
Vlorance’s voice was small by comparison, but she spoke with a quiet dignity that gave her words weight. “You have no need to shout, Captain. I’m right here.”
Marces turned and, seeing that Vlorance was in the room with him, began to apologize. “Ah, forgive me Mrs. Kallowary. I did not see—”
Vlorance held up her hand to stop him. “What happened to your face?”
Her tone was that of a disapproving caregiver; Captain Marces had a large, jagged piece of wood sticking out of the side of his face. Before he could answer, the doors banged open again, startling them both. Dr. Geovini charged into the Ox. Seeing Marces, the doctor stopped and placed his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Marces put a hand on the man’s back.
“Ah, doctor, you caught up to—”
Geovini raised a finger in silent objection, lifting his face so he could glare at Marces, cutting him off. “You are a scoundrel, sir!”
“Hey, I told you I am not pulling this out of my face without a drink first.”
The doctor slammed his bag down on a table next to the captain. “It got into your face without a drink, did it not?”
“Yes,” the captain said, turning his head away as the doctor pulled out a pair of forceps, “but I did not know that was going to happen.”
Vlorance placed a small glass of pungent, deep amber liquid on the table across from the doctor’s bag. “Drink,” she commanded. “On the house.”
“My dear lady.” The captain bowed his head. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
He finished the drink in a single gulp, placing the glass back on the table with more force than Vlorance preferred. He smacked his lips in satisfaction. He closed his eyes and let out a relaxed sigh. Dr. Geovini took advantage of the unguarded moment. He reached over with his forceps and yanked the large splinter from the captain’s cheek. The sigh turned into a sharp yelp.
“Oh, shut it!” Dr. Geovini slapped a square of gauze over the wound as it spurted blood. “Hold that there.”
Captain Marces scowled but obeyed, sinking into a chair. Vlorance poured him another drink. “Here,” she said. “Not on the house.”
Marces raised the glass and said, “Aye,” then tossed the drink back and placed the glass on the table, upside down.
Bang! The doors slammed open once more, and all three of them shouted in protest.
“Hey!”
“Come on!”
“For goodness sake!”
Robert Elmsly had barged in. He gave Marces and Geovini a quizzical look as he walked toward Vlorance. He lifted her hand gently with his own. “I rushed down when I heard the bells. Pirates?”
Marces answered for her. “Aye.”
Elmsly looked at the doctor. “Are they in town yet?”
The doctor shook his head. “Still anchored in the harbor last I heard.”
Elmsly nodded, considering the situation. He made a decision, then lovingly patted the paper-thin skin on the back of Vlorance’s frail, fine fingers. “Stay here with them. I’ll be right back.”
Elmsly walked away, releasing her. He clapped a hand each on the shoulders of the doctor and the captain. “Take care of her,” he told them. “I won’t be gone long.”
Geovini asked Robert where he was going.
“To see if I can help.”
Chapter 7
The pirate ship fired upon Harbor Side an hour before sunset. Three distant booms were followed quickly by the crash of splintering wood nearby as cannonballs ripped apart a covered pier. Vlorance could see smoke heading skyward, dark gray against a canvas of orange, pink, and blue.
Harbor Side possessed a small naval outpost, along with a guard tower equipped with a small cannon and a brazier of coals for a signal fire. The cadet manning the tower performed their duty well. Great puffs of white smoke emanated from the custom-built chimney of the guard tower in a rhythmic pattern. The signal for help could be seen from a great distance in all directions.
Two naval vessels situated just beyond the mouth of the harbor were within a few hours of sailing; they knew to respond the moment the signal was sent.
Next Time, Part 5: The pirates attack, the Dotted Ox becomes a field hospital, and Captain Marces gets infuriating news about his first mate.
