Dockside

"What's you're process Jack?"
"What do you mean?"
"How do you write?"

That depends...sometimes I start with a world. Looking down on it from a birds eye view and then ask myself  "What kind of story can we tell in it?"
Other times,  I hear snatches of conversation.  Real or imagined and then when I focus in on those voices the world begins unfolding around them. 
Other times I look at an old story and say "How can I tell it my way?"


~~~~

"Ring-di-diddle-i-didi-o
Ring-di-diddle-i-o"

~~~~~


The curfew bells rang as night fell. 

"Does he have no shame?" D'artangion said to the other two as they tossed cards back and forth in a game he didn't recognize. 

"None what so ever" Aramis says without looking up. 

The Young man watched as the Pirate traded clothes with a giggling woman.  Two other women filled wine skins with air and pushed them up under the blouse giving the impression of large breasts.

"It's not polite to stare" Artemis says without looking up.

The young man's head turns to look at the two in a mixture of disgust and confusion.  Then turns back as Porthos slipped behind the bar and out a back door. 
 He jumps to his feet. 
"Going to join him for his nightly swim?"  Artemis asks of D'artagnion's back.  
The chuckles of the tavern follow him into the night. 

The young swordsman follows, curiosity bristling more than his pride at this point.
Porthos winds threw ally's until arriving at a a tree overlooking the docks.  The Pirate performs the sign of the cross, kissing a fist and pointing up at the sky.  D'artagnion's sharp eyes notice a blue ribbon fluttering within the leaves of the tree above but gives it no thought as his attention is pulled by the sound of a splash.  He runs to the waters edge and watches the bubbles.
  They go on for what seems like an impossibly long time.  
"The fool is meant to die by my blade, not cowardice!" D'artagnion curses into the night while shedding his sword and boots before diving into the water.  The Young man looks around in the water, dips his head under and swims down. 
Only to have bubbles blown into his face as Porthos returns to the surface.
Sputtering and angry D'artangion pulls himself out of the water.  Porthos walks around behind him picking up the sword, examining it's hilt and nods to himself before handing it to the Young Man. 

"A ceremonial blade, certain to snap in a real fight." Porthos' voice says from behind. 
D'artagnion spins in surprise to find the woman in Porthos' clothes adorned a comically large moustache. 
"Come boy" She says in a near perfect imitation of the slovenly Pirate.  "Let's get you off of the street before the guard comes collecting strays."  

Porthos, the real Porthos, shuffles by.  Back bent as if in age, wine skins swaying and clinking in the night.  "See you in the morning" he says in the croak of an elderly woman.

The Pirate takes D'artagnion's arm in hers and steers him from the water front into a clump of buildings heavy with perfumes and sounds unfamiliar to the little traveled youth. 
They dip into a smithy. 
D'artagnions hand goes immediately to his hilt but fails to draw before a blade touches his neck. 
"Settle down there lad, this will only take a minute." Says the Pirate disarming him. 
D'artagnion tries not to swallow against the blade at his throat as a wizened man, appearing a Spaniard to his eyes but with an accent he couldn't place. 
The Pirate passes the blade to the old man in a very deferential manor.  With steady and practiced hands of the old man takes the sword and sniffs in derision.  "Why put such terrible blades into such fine craftsmanship?" He says dismantling it all and throwing the blade into a pile of scraps. 
D'artagnion bristles and a second blade extends from the shadows to press his ribs.
"Keep your head lad if ye want to keep yer appointment come dawn." 
The old man reaches under a work bench covered dust and detritus of abandoned projects to pull out an oil cloth.  He lays it on the counter and reverently unwraps a fighting blade.  Thicker and slightly shorter than the discarded metal. 
 With the same deft and practiced movements the Craftsman mounts it to the basket and grip of D'artagnions father. 
"Now maybe your blade will not snap when you face a true swordsman" The craftsman says in his accent.  He bows his head and holds the blade as he would an offering. 
The blade at D'artagnion's throat and ribs retract.
"Say Thank You."  The Pirate says nudging the Boy forward.
D'artangion steps forward, dumb struck, seemingly unaware of the hands removing the ornate hanger from his shoulders and replacing it with a simple and sturdy one. D'artagnion takes the blade carefully. 
"Thank you." 
It's heavier, but the familiarity of the grip in his hand feels right, the balance perfect.
The old man nods in satisfaction as D'artagnion sheaths the blade in a practiced motion.  
The craftsman wraps the old hanger in the oil cloth. 
"When your quest is finished return here for this and it will fit the blade you carry." 
"Quest...?"
For D'artagnion, the world goes dark.

~~~

Cold water splashes over D'artagnion in his bed of straw.  
Athos and Aramis stand over him with wide grins on their face. 
"Come now",  Aramis says offering his hand,  "You've your morning appointment to catch. 
"And if you survive we have our tea time."  Athos says offering his hand.
D'Artagnion takes the offered hands and is hauled to his feet.  "Don't think I've forgotten about lunch." He says trying to hide trepidation he hadn't felt yesterday.
The two chuckle as they brush the hay and dirt from D'artagnion's clothes and walk him down to the docks.  They bustled in the pre dawn light.  Ships with bows pointed to sea being loaded with supplies and sailors.  At the end of the decking of an empty dock stood Porthos, back to the water but D'artagnion wasn't paying attention to him.
   A hundred or more women of different ages stood nude around the waters edge, and as he approached they dove in.  
"What...?"
"Don't gawk boy, you've an audience with the King." 

"Halt in the name of the law!" Came bouncing down the streets behind them.

D'artagnion was about to turn at the call but was instead distracted by the bow of a ship rising from the water like a great leviathan. Porthos snagged the bow line in one hand, and stepped onto the bowsprit as it continued to rise, laughing maniacally the whole way up and riding it down as it dipped. 
 The ships emergence sending a wave of water up and over the dock. 
"Show off." Aramis said

As the ship settled three ropes lowered.  
Aramis and Athos stepped into the loops of one each and where hauled up to the deck. 
"Come now!" Athos called down. "You chose the time, we choose the location."
D'artangion takes a steadying breath and then steps into the loop to be hauled aboard.

Standing at midship Porthos draws his sword and motions the young man forward.  
Hesitantly D'artangion steps forward drawing his blade.  
They trade blows, neither finding a way through the others defense. 

Ropes tied to the ship in various positions snake up out of the water being hauled by dock workers on both sides of the shore from the ship.   The ship twists in place, as if in on a potters wheel.
Nude women run up and down the decks readying lines and securing sails. 
As the ship moves D'artagnions balance faulters and Porthos slaps him across his backside with the flat of  the blade. 
The ship stops, bow facing to the sea. 
Regaining his balance the young swordsman see's an opening and goes for it.  
"Hoist Sails!" Comes from the wheel of the ship.
Porthos locks blades laughing like a madman and pulls D'artagnion to the side to avoid a swinging boom arm. They part, D'artanginion regaining his feet and focus. The two clash, while around them, from the other ships supplies are tossed aboard and secured. 
Powder, food, water, clothes, muskets, and blades. 
Porthos faulters slightly at a loss of breath.
D'artagnion bats the older mans blade to the side forcing the pirate to stumble over a barrel, his sword sent spinning. 
D'artagnion places his blade to the Pirates throat.  "I do not need your blood for my honor to be satisfied. Do you yield?"
"Aye.   I yield."
Athos and Aramis politely applaud from the side as D'artagnion sheaths his blade and helps Porthos to his feet. 
It is then that the his surroundings fully sink in.  Nude Sailors, women to a one, worked quickly and profesionally as the ship set sail.  
"Who...?"
"His wives.  The Widows." Aramis says quietly
"Til Death do they part."  Athos says with respect.

Porthos chuckles. "The cardinal and his like will tell you of the pleasures of heaven and virgin flesh in glory of his honor.  Personally I think earth is heaven and I prefer my flesh seasoned and consensual." He says while slapping the impossibly muscled backside of a sailor.  
Without loosing their knot the sailor smacks his cheek with a thunderous clap, rocking the pirate to the side. "Spicy" He says rubbing his jaw.
Another sailor passes the four of them as they head towards the stern.  Hefting a cask she growls and gnashes her teeth at Porthos.  He gnashes his teeth back in response and they wiggle their fingers at each other without breaking stride. "Not in front of the boy" the Pirate says spinning to watch her pass then winks at D'artagnion. "Sweet." 
The young man stops dead in his tracks as a dark shadow passes across the Porthos face, his joviality suddenly becoming haggard, showing his age.   The old Musketeer plucks a blanket from a bundle before it's handed below decks and stops a gray haired women, nude as the rest, Pothos takes the cask she's carrying.  He points, handing her the blanket.. She nods.
 Da'rtagnion follows their gaze to a young woman looking back at the buildings, tears streaming down her face.  "Fresh from market..." Porthos says quietly to himself before continuing aft. 
"What...?" 
"You were lucky farm boy." Aramis says to the confused young man. "These are the wives, mothers,  and daughters of the men the cardinal slew as 'Traitors to the Church.'"  The usually soft spoken man said with an edge of anger in his voice." Thinking that by taking the men and boys he'd quell any sense of rebellion." 

Athos pats the boy on the shoulder.  "Don't be dour,  it's nearly tea time."
"Then lunch." Aramis says with a glint in his eye.

Looking somewhat overwhelmed by it all D'artagnion asks; "Wait...Where are we going?" 
"Castle d'Winter." Porthos says taking the wheel while the helmsman dresses. 

As the ship passed out into open water D'artagnion heard from the crows nest "All for one!" 
From the shore and the streets of the city Thunder answers in response. "One for All!"