Setting Off

Declan woke up the next morning having had a restless sleep. Dreams of captaining a pirate ship had come into his mind, but the thought of being captured by the British had followed it up and had scared him. 

Declan knew the whole thing was ridiculous. Becoming a pirate would mean he’d be a outlaw, being chased by the authorities all over. Risking his life. And Declan knew the common theme of pirates being romantic thieves was the truth being stretched as well. They were bloodthirsty and criminals. Declan just hoped he wouldn’t have to stoop to those levels.

Declan yawned and stretched in his bed. It was uncomfortable but Declan had grown used to it, although it did hurt his back at times. He rose groggily from it and dressed himself in the usual clothes. A scruffy loose-fitting shirt that was ripped at the top, trousers which were short on him and his prized leather boots which he had won in a game of cards in the local pub. Finally he wrapped a belt around him. It had been given to him by Sally, the jolly worker who worked in the shop. She had always been fond of Declan and had taken pity on him when he was given little for Christmas by giving him the belt, a present which she hadn’t liked for herself. 

Declan looked at the blurry reflection of himself in the small window. He was fairly tall for his age, with messy brown hair that just wouldn’t go straight. Under it lay a pair of piercing blue eyes. He was broad-shouldered, with quite a few toned muscles due to all the times he had sailed in The Irish Rose. 

Declan slid his new sword in his scabbard and stepped out the room, rushing downstairs and being as quiet as possible. To his surprise, Anne was sitting behind the counter, already fully dressed and sipping a cup of water. She looked worn-out and looked up as she sensed Declan’s presence.

“Are you off to that training of yours then?” she croaked. 

Declan nodded. Anne looked down. Declan could just sense her disappointment. But he had gone over the point already. He decided to ignore it and rushed out of the shop without a word to her. 

Declan shivered as he stepped outside. The sun was out but the air was chilly. But he was ready and prepared for training and he knew - to his immense excitement - that they were about to start the sword fighting. 

Declan heard a angry shout from the right and turned to see a redhead girl his age named Angela storming over to him. Declan grinned as he walked to her. 

“Angie!” he exclaimed. “How’s it going, darling?”

“Where have you been?” she demanded, looking annoyed. “You haven’t talked to me for ages!”

“Oh, about that,” Declan said, trying to play cool. “I really wanted to, but I just wasn’t thinking about you.”

Angela opened her mouth in horror. After a moment, Declan realised he had made a mistake and quickly tried to rectify his error. 

“I mean, I had more important things to think about.”

Angela’s face was contorted with rage. Declan backed off cautiously, realising he had messed up his words once again. 

“I m- I mean!” Declan stammered but it was too late. Angela slapped him hard round the face, sending Declan sprawling backwards. 

Angela stormed off, leaving Declan rubbing his slapped face vigorously. He knew it would’ve gone bright red and he was slightly annoyed with the way he had dealt with the situation. He sighed.

“One down then, I guess,” he muttered. 

*

Declan arrived at the harbour a few minutes later. This time, Giovanni was waiting for him, looking slightly annoyed.

“You’re late,” he said coldly. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Declan replied casually. “I had some business to take care of. Anyway, I’m not as late as you were yesterday.”

Giovanni didn’t reply but Declan knew he was annoyed. 

“Untie the boat,” Giovanni commanded. “Get her up south.”

Declan frowned. “I thought we were sword fighting today. I’ve been looking forward to it all night.”

“We swordfight on the sea,” Giovanni replied bluntly. “First, get the boat out there. I doubt you’ll be fighting on land.”

Declan rolled his eyes and untied The Irish Rose. Soon it was in the water with Declan at the wheel again. He smiled softly to himself as he imagined The Irish Rose was his pirate ship and he was leading his crew into another day of mischief. It hadn’t occurred to him how he would get a pirate ship on his own. 

Once they were on open water, Giovanni gave Declan the order to drop anchor and the boat lay there, floating. 

“Right,” Giovanni said, looking prepared. “Now draw your sword, or should I say, my sword.”

Declan did as he was told. His heart began to pound with excitement as he held the sword up in front of his eyes. Giovanni must have seen his look because his eyes sharpened and he suddenly looked different. Sterner.

“Do not think this is a toy,” he told Declan. “It is not something you play with. It is an instrument of death, a killing machine. Do not underestimate its power.”

“Well aren’t you a little ray of sunshine,” said Declan sarcastically. 

Giovanni frowned but once again, said nothing to counter Declan’s comment. He took out his own sword - identical to the one he had given to Declan - and suddenly parried against Declan. Giovanni gave him a cold smile. 

“You must always be aware,” he said. “Always on guard. Your opponent may attack at any moment and you could be killed in a instance.”

The locked swords were released and Declan faced Giovanni, the sword prepared for any attack. Giovanni seemed to be waiting for him to attack however, and Declan duly obliged. He lunged forward and attacked Giovanni with a mixture of pace and skill. Giovanni was forced back as he endured Declan’s torrent of attacks. The moves could’ve been  rehearsed - the two of them were parrying each other at perfect times. Then Declan suddenly forced enough power to knock Giovanni’s sword out of his hands and Declan grinned, turning his back on Giovanni.

It was a mistake. Giovanni quickly gathered his sword and knocked Declan over with the hilt. Then he held the tip of the blade to Declan’s throat. Declan was no longer grinning.

“Okay, okay!” he cried. “You win.”

Giovanni flipped the sword away from Declan and glared at his young apprentice as he rose to his feet unsteadily. 

“I told you to always stay aware,” Giovanni snapped, obviously frustrated. “You obviously chose to ignore every thing I said.”

Declan sighed. “Alright, I’m sorry. But you’ve got to admit, I’m great at swordfights.”

Giovanni shook his head, exasperated. Then he sighed, conceding defeat. “You are naturally talented with a sword. But sheer force alone will not win you battles. That will not save your life. You must learn to be agile and smart to go with that force.”

Declan shrugged. “I thought I was pretty agile. But whatever you say.”

Giovanni nodded. “Glad we got that straight.”

For the next three hours, Giovanni and Declan worked vigorously on the sword fighting, perfecting the timing of their attacks constantly. Declan found himself even more confident than before and was grinning at the end of the lesson, exhausted but exhilarated.

“That was great!” he exclaimed as they jumped off The Irish Rose and tied it up. “Same time tomorrow?”

Giovanni had duly agreed and Declan had set off home. Over the next few weeks the two practiced day in, day out and Declan had become exceptionally skilled. On a especially sunny and hot day, Declan disarmed Giovanni with minimal fuss and this time, didn’t turn his back on him, instead pointing the tip of his sword at Giovanni’s chest. For once, Giovanni smiled properly. Declan knew he was pleased, for once. 

“You have listened well,” Giovanni told him, getting to his feet as Declan slipped his sword into his scabbard. “And you have perfected your sword skills. I have to say, you are truly William Murphy’s son.”

Declan didn’t know whether to be proud or nervous. He just smiled politely. He had grown to respect Giovanni over the past few weeks, accepting his strange nature and irregular behaviour. He had taught Declan how to be a pirate captain and Declan would forever be thankful for that. 

“Are we carrying on this tomorrow morning, then?” Declan asked.

Giovanni paused. “No. No we won’t.”

“What, we’re starting something different?”

“No.” Giovanni shook his head. “We won’t be doing anything. You’re ready to become a pirate. Your training is complete.”

Giovanni stopped and smiled as he saw Declan’s stunned face. “Don’t be so surprised. You’ve become stronger than I could’ve ever expected. You’ll make a superb pirate captain.”

Declan grinned wider than Giovanni had ever seen him grin before. He yelled out and punched the air in joy before doing a little dance around the boat. Then he stopped, a serious look back on his face.

“When should I leave?” Declan asked him.

“I would say as soon as possible,” Giovanni said. “You don’t want to be delaying it. I would go now if I was you.”

“Now?” Declan looked unsure. He hadn’t been prepared for this and the thought of leaving home to go on this, frankly hopeless mission, was terrifying. But he had to. He needed to meet his father.

“Alright.” Declan nodded. 

He moved forward to go past Giovanni but the old man stopped him, looking at him with a knowing stare.

“My sword, please,” he said. 

Declan scowled and handed him the sword that had become his weapon over the past few weeks. “How are I going to look after myself on my own without a weapon?”

Giovanni’s eyes sharpened. “This was never your weapon. I told you that from the beginning. You will find your own weapon and you will feel a connection to it that you will never find with this sword. You will find out what I mean eventually.”

Declan sighed, a section in his brain telling him Giovanni was right. He took a deep breath. “Thank you, Giovanni. You’ve been a great teacher to me.”

Giovanni smiled warmly. “As have you been a great student to me. I do not need to give you any instructions. You’ll know where to go once the tide tells you. Follow your instincts and you will become a great pirate. Good luck, Declan Murphy.”

Declan smiled and nodded before turning round and began to walk down the street back to the corner shop. He knew Giovanni had gone. He was mysterious in that way. He didn’t bother to turn round. 

Declan pushed the door of the corner shop open and walked in. Sally was sitting behind the counter, looking bored but her face brightened when she saw Declan.

“How are you?” she asked with a look of concern. “I haven’t seen you much recently and when I do you always seem very tired.”

“I’m fine.” Declan smiled at her. “Is Mother upstairs?”

“Yes.” Sally was frowning. “She’s been in a bad mood for weeks. What have you done to her?”

“Just leave it, Sal,” Declan snapped, moving past her and up the stairs.

He found Anne in her bedroom, curled up in her bed. She looked ill and Declan felt the familiar pang of guilt as he saw her condition. 

“How are you?” he asked her. 

Anne gave him a perplexed look. “You actually care, do you?”

“Of course I do,” replied Declan, getting a little frustrated with Anne’s negative attitude. He took a deep breath. “I have something important to tell you.”

He met Anne’s eyes in understanding. She already knew. “You’re leaving. Now.”

Declan nodded, slightly nervous. Anne looked down. “I suppose you better pack.”

She couldn’t look at him. Declan knew it. He felt sick. He quickly rushed out of the room and into his own. He opened the small cupboard in the corner of his room and began to spill its contents into a small bag he had prepared for this moment. There wasn’t much in there. Just a few clothes.

Finally he was finally and he zipped up the bag, flinging it over his shoulder. After one last look around the bedroom that had been his for years, he walked out and shut the door. 

Then he was back downstairs. Anne was out of bed and talking to Sally. They both turned to look at him as he came down.

“Your mother tells me you’re leaving,” Sally said sincerely. 

Declan nodded, feeling guilty that he hadn’t told her himself. “Just a sailing trip. I won’t be coming back for a while.”

Sally stepped forward and gave Declan a hug. When she released him, Declan realised she had pressed a diary into his hand. He looked at it and smiled at Sally.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I won’t forget you.”

“You better take care,” Sally told him sternly. “And make sure you visit home once in a while.”

Declan turned to Anne and tried to smile at her. She couldn’t smile back. He heard a sniff and Sally left the room, presumably having burst into tears. 

“I won’t come back empty-handed, Mother,” Declan told her, and he meant it. “When I come back, we’ll be rich, and we can leave here to go somewhere better. I promise.”

Anne smiled sadly and patted Declan on the head. “Don’t worry about me, darling. You go and sail the seas, and enjoy yourself. I’ll always be proud of you.”

Declan hugged her and then walked out of the room, determined not to look back. He ran over to The Irish Rose and quickly untied it before jumping in and setting off in the water. 

As he sailed further away from Port Royal, Declan stumbled around in his small cabin and found a black flag with white skull and bones on it. He smiled. Giovanni had left his mark. Declan walked back onto deck and hoisted the pirates’ flag into the sky, stamping his territory. 

It was time to become a pirate.