Don't get me wrong. The words are a little hard to listen to. But this is the best way to end the week of Lord of the Rings...
About Me
- JT
- Corrandion, Corridane
- I am JT, Ringer, nutjob, and archer, in that order. I like animated films, epic films, book films, movie music, folk music, and the occasional random other thing. I make friends by accident and like it that way...
29 September 2010
26 September 2010
Music & Clips From The Movies
Unfortunately, no-one has ever uploaded the clip of The King Of The Golden Hall scene, so this was the best I could do. BY THE WAY, THE MUSIC IS INSANELY AWESOME!
One of THE MOST AWESOME TRACKS EVER!
By the way, go ahead, bawl me out for posting battles! But I couldn't resist posting such awesome scenes!
How did I forget this one!?
I'm done now...
One of THE MOST AWESOME TRACKS EVER!
By the way, go ahead, bawl me out for posting battles! But I couldn't resist posting such awesome scenes!
How did I forget this one!?
I'm done now...
24 September 2010
Some Thoughts on The Two Towers & Memorable Quotes from my Travels
Now, first off, The Two Towers. I read the book again recently, and finished watching the movie again this morning. As twisted as anyone may think the movie is, it is changed in the name of more drama, and definitely could not have been filmed the way it was written. The worst changes were, of course, Gimli becoming comic relief, and Gimli replacing Eomer in the battle of Helm's Deep, causing Theoden to say some of his lines. Also, the omission of the Huorns, which were replaced by Eomer and his men.
Now, second, some quotes.
Now, second, some quotes.
"Evidently, we look so much alike that your wish to make an incurable dent in my hat must be excused."- to Gimli, on his similarity to Saruman
"The battle for Helm's Deep is over. The battle for Middle-Earth is about to begin."
23 September 2010
Strange Lists From The Vaults #1
Ten reasons why the Fellowship of the Ring would not fit in the U.S Congress
10. Chain mail and leather (or velvet in Legolas’ case) is not considered the proper attire in Congress.
9. Frodo would look constantly bewildered, every now and then trying to bring up the situation concerning the One Ring.
8. Aragorn would have to be reminded that there is no monarchy in the USA.
7. Sam would brandish his frying pan threateningly if anyone tried to debate anything with Frodo.
6. Boromir would repeatedly rise, crying, “Gondor will see it done!”
5. After many attempts to declare that Gollum had escaped Mirkwood, and that he was most definitely the prettiest, Legolas would get flustered and shoot the Speaker of the House.
4. Congress podiums are not as resilient to Dwarf ax blows as the One Ring.
3. During a heated debate, Gandalf would stand and start bellowing the speech of Mordor.
2. Merry and Pippin would ask many times if a filibuster was a type of ‘shroom’.
1. The Fellowship of the Ring might actually get something done!
10. Chain mail and leather (or velvet in Legolas’ case) is not considered the proper attire in Congress.
9. Frodo would look constantly bewildered, every now and then trying to bring up the situation concerning the One Ring.
8. Aragorn would have to be reminded that there is no monarchy in the USA.
7. Sam would brandish his frying pan threateningly if anyone tried to debate anything with Frodo.
6. Boromir would repeatedly rise, crying, “Gondor will see it done!”
5. After many attempts to declare that Gollum had escaped Mirkwood, and that he was most definitely the prettiest, Legolas would get flustered and shoot the Speaker of the House.
4. Congress podiums are not as resilient to Dwarf ax blows as the One Ring.
3. During a heated debate, Gandalf would stand and start bellowing the speech of Mordor.
2. Merry and Pippin would ask many times if a filibuster was a type of ‘shroom’.
1. The Fellowship of the Ring might actually get something done!
Rest assured, I am not witty enough to think of these. I discovered them in the vaults of Minas Tirith, where I get all my information.
22 September 2010
From the Vaults of Minas Tirith
Quick facts: Of the members of the party making the journey in The Hobbit, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Gloin, Dori, Ori, Nori,Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Thorin Oakinshield, and even Gandalf, are names borrowed from an ancient (Norse) saga. The only one missing is Balin.
According to the reckoning of our world, Bilbo is 720 years old today and Frodo is 642.
The World Cup has invaded Middle-Earth!
According to the reckoning of our world, Bilbo is 720 years old today and Frodo is 642.
The World Cup has invaded Middle-Earth!
17 September 2010
Fun with my Dog
I've found them! These are the rest of the pics of my dog that I began posting last month.
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| Dog: Ah! where's the ball! (he caught it) |
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| "Give me the ball." "No! Never!" |
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| The ball bounced off his nose a second before this shot. he caught it afterwards. |
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| Relaxing with his favorite toy. |
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| "chill out, man!" (not photoshopped, he shook the hat off as soon as I had the pic) |
may you reign long and well,
15 September 2010
Pics from the Vacation
Since I could not find the pics of my dog, which I will post if they ever turn up, I've decided instead to post some of my pics of my vacation in August.
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| My brothers' actual reaction: "They live there?!" |
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| "One for five and five for- wait, what?" |
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| "I am the Phantom and I have an ax! Fear me!" |
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| The Phantom: There's strange writing on this- TSP: The nerd must die! |
08 September 2010
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter XXIV
On returning to Matt and Mark, they can be found to be walking down an isolated road alone. David and Gabriel had caught up with them earlier, but they had dropped back to follow the trail after Mark had shouted at them over what he considered Dameon’s apparent mistrust of his ability to get home.
The men could hear the twins speaking together from their position a few yards back, but could not make out anything of great importance. In fact, this was partly because they were speaking between themselves. “My, the old pal sure did raise a firebrand in that boy, you notice?”
“How could I not, being in front of you?”
“How much do you want to bet on Mark becoming a politician?”
“Stop pulling my leg. Joseph never liked politicians. Doubtless the boys are like that too.”
“Then what will they do?”
“You mean you don’t know? They’ll rise so high that before we leave this Earth we’ll hear them proclaimed the most ingenious navy captains ever to sail the waters.”
“Oh, stow it, now you’re pulling my leg. Mark will, but Matt would surprise me.”
“Surprise you, eh? Well, watch out to be sure that shot doesn’t come back to hit you, because in a few years their attitudes will be the same also.”
The pair terminated their conversation and focused on the trail the two boys were leaving behind them. They could also pick up snatches of the boys’ conversation now.
“The side is beginning to ache. Do you reckon they’re still following us?” The Mellinos noticed that Matt stared back at them as he answered “They’re still there, but they’re keeping their distance. They don’t want you exploding again, but they’ve been charged to keep us alive, and I’m sure they’ll do it.”
After Matt’s remark, all four remained silent for some time, before Mark finally called out “There’s no need to follow us any farther for a while now, Sirs. We’re resting for the night! And I am not going to go off again!” This was obviously meant to be an apology, so the two men sped up until they were even with the boys. Then all four had a cheerful, joke-filled conversation until they were swallowed up by the darkness.
The following morning was hazy, with a light rain. The said rain woke up the group, which was sleeping under the trees. The rain already mentioned also made Mark very irritable immediately. “Bother this rain!” he shouted “Just when everything was beginning to improve, too! Go home!” he concluded, as if the rain were an animal which had come at call, and he now wished to be rid of.
As an experienced campaigner, David soon raised his voice in defense of the weather. “You don’t want to understand, do you? What if enemies have found our trail?! This weather will throw them off miles behind us! Now, tell me, without it, where would we be?”
“In prison, if things had gone the way they were meant to.” said a Spaniard who had just stepped on to the road. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. We knew where you had gone, and were hard on your trail early the next day, thanks to my little helper here and his friend.” It was only then that the Americans took any notice of the silent dog sitting at the man’s side.
“Bloodhounds!” They all shouted “We were warned about your practices!”
“That may be, but you forgot them entirely, at the cost of your freedom. You also seem, if you are a veteran fighter, to have forgotten one of the simplest rules there is. If you are in a foreign country, NEVER raise your voice if you are on a journey and most especially if you are escaping. The second thing is this: Your enemies know the land; you do not. For your information, it would take you more than a week to reach the nearest port on foot from this spot. The third is that you shall NEVER, under any circumstances whatever, attempt to escape from the Coinhara clan, for their vengeance is terrible. This message has been delivered from Cristobol Coinhara to his captives by his brother, Miguel.” When it was evident that Coinhara had finished, several more men stepped out of the trees, surrounding their American captives.
When the hopelessness of the situation became evident, the Americans finally gave up the idea of fighting their way through and escaping. As they were returning their weapons to their places, however, Coinhara cut in. “No! You shall have no arms! I know what will occur if I let you keep them!” Upon his order, ten men stepped forward and confiscated all the weapons the captives were carrying.
At this measure, Mark the hothead returned in full force and grew futilely indignant. “Oh, exactly! You’re afraid of us, so you have to detail twice our number to take our weapons when we’re already surrounded! It makes me wonder exactly who’s in your family tree! But I can tell you a couple of things you might like to know! Your father didn’t defeat us, so of course you won’t either! In fact, don’t be surprised if we escape and humiliate you along the way, like I did to your brother!”
Coinhara reached over and slapped Mark to silence him. “You will learn the hard way, and without much time either, for you shall be hanged immediately upon return. Get out of that, and then you may talk.”
As they were being marched away, with their hands tied behind their backs, Mark managed a whisper to his brother. “I’ve done it again. We’re about to be killed again. I must say, I believed I had died in that sea battle with this man’s father, and so I’m not afraid of dying again, if we didn’t have a family to return to. As things stand, though, we must escape.”
Later that evening, when the march was halted, the prisoners were grouped together in the center of the camp, with no shelter and little food allotted to them. As dusk fell, the Spaniards ignited a large fire in a more open area of the camp, but refused to let any of the prisoners near it. To celebrate their capture of some of the government’s most wanted enemies, the Spaniards soon brought out a barrel of ale they had sent behind them for precisely this purpose. As they began to drink more heavily, David remarked “I hope someone stays sober enough to watch the fire. Anyone could have told them that lighting such a large fire is against the laws of sensibility, no mater where you are; We could have told them that, but of course they wouldn’t listen to us.”
As was sure to happen, though, all of the captors drank so deeply that they were soon nodding off. When the last one had fallen to the ground, David continued “All right, without the use of our hands, we won’t be able to do anything against it if this fire escapes. But be ready to jump and run. For now, just watch it.’
Everyone rolled off of their heels and sat watching the fire intently. Suddenly, about thirty minutes after the captors had fallen asleep, and the fire was just beginning to die out, a spark leaped out and caught on a branch which was hanging over the clearing. In the space of one minute, the whole branch was engulfed in flames. “That tree is gone!” David exclaimed “and soon so is this whole clearing! We have to run for our lives now!”
On returning to Matt and Mark, they can be found to be walking down an isolated road alone. David and Gabriel had caught up with them earlier, but they had dropped back to follow the trail after Mark had shouted at them over what he considered Dameon’s apparent mistrust of his ability to get home.
The men could hear the twins speaking together from their position a few yards back, but could not make out anything of great importance. In fact, this was partly because they were speaking between themselves. “My, the old pal sure did raise a firebrand in that boy, you notice?”
“How could I not, being in front of you?”
“How much do you want to bet on Mark becoming a politician?”
“Stop pulling my leg. Joseph never liked politicians. Doubtless the boys are like that too.”
“Then what will they do?”
“You mean you don’t know? They’ll rise so high that before we leave this Earth we’ll hear them proclaimed the most ingenious navy captains ever to sail the waters.”
“Oh, stow it, now you’re pulling my leg. Mark will, but Matt would surprise me.”
“Surprise you, eh? Well, watch out to be sure that shot doesn’t come back to hit you, because in a few years their attitudes will be the same also.”
The pair terminated their conversation and focused on the trail the two boys were leaving behind them. They could also pick up snatches of the boys’ conversation now.
“The side is beginning to ache. Do you reckon they’re still following us?” The Mellinos noticed that Matt stared back at them as he answered “They’re still there, but they’re keeping their distance. They don’t want you exploding again, but they’ve been charged to keep us alive, and I’m sure they’ll do it.”
After Matt’s remark, all four remained silent for some time, before Mark finally called out “There’s no need to follow us any farther for a while now, Sirs. We’re resting for the night! And I am not going to go off again!” This was obviously meant to be an apology, so the two men sped up until they were even with the boys. Then all four had a cheerful, joke-filled conversation until they were swallowed up by the darkness.
The following morning was hazy, with a light rain. The said rain woke up the group, which was sleeping under the trees. The rain already mentioned also made Mark very irritable immediately. “Bother this rain!” he shouted “Just when everything was beginning to improve, too! Go home!” he concluded, as if the rain were an animal which had come at call, and he now wished to be rid of.
As an experienced campaigner, David soon raised his voice in defense of the weather. “You don’t want to understand, do you? What if enemies have found our trail?! This weather will throw them off miles behind us! Now, tell me, without it, where would we be?”
“In prison, if things had gone the way they were meant to.” said a Spaniard who had just stepped on to the road. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. We knew where you had gone, and were hard on your trail early the next day, thanks to my little helper here and his friend.” It was only then that the Americans took any notice of the silent dog sitting at the man’s side.
“Bloodhounds!” They all shouted “We were warned about your practices!”
“That may be, but you forgot them entirely, at the cost of your freedom. You also seem, if you are a veteran fighter, to have forgotten one of the simplest rules there is. If you are in a foreign country, NEVER raise your voice if you are on a journey and most especially if you are escaping. The second thing is this: Your enemies know the land; you do not. For your information, it would take you more than a week to reach the nearest port on foot from this spot. The third is that you shall NEVER, under any circumstances whatever, attempt to escape from the Coinhara clan, for their vengeance is terrible. This message has been delivered from Cristobol Coinhara to his captives by his brother, Miguel.” When it was evident that Coinhara had finished, several more men stepped out of the trees, surrounding their American captives.
When the hopelessness of the situation became evident, the Americans finally gave up the idea of fighting their way through and escaping. As they were returning their weapons to their places, however, Coinhara cut in. “No! You shall have no arms! I know what will occur if I let you keep them!” Upon his order, ten men stepped forward and confiscated all the weapons the captives were carrying.
At this measure, Mark the hothead returned in full force and grew futilely indignant. “Oh, exactly! You’re afraid of us, so you have to detail twice our number to take our weapons when we’re already surrounded! It makes me wonder exactly who’s in your family tree! But I can tell you a couple of things you might like to know! Your father didn’t defeat us, so of course you won’t either! In fact, don’t be surprised if we escape and humiliate you along the way, like I did to your brother!”
Coinhara reached over and slapped Mark to silence him. “You will learn the hard way, and without much time either, for you shall be hanged immediately upon return. Get out of that, and then you may talk.”
As they were being marched away, with their hands tied behind their backs, Mark managed a whisper to his brother. “I’ve done it again. We’re about to be killed again. I must say, I believed I had died in that sea battle with this man’s father, and so I’m not afraid of dying again, if we didn’t have a family to return to. As things stand, though, we must escape.”
Later that evening, when the march was halted, the prisoners were grouped together in the center of the camp, with no shelter and little food allotted to them. As dusk fell, the Spaniards ignited a large fire in a more open area of the camp, but refused to let any of the prisoners near it. To celebrate their capture of some of the government’s most wanted enemies, the Spaniards soon brought out a barrel of ale they had sent behind them for precisely this purpose. As they began to drink more heavily, David remarked “I hope someone stays sober enough to watch the fire. Anyone could have told them that lighting such a large fire is against the laws of sensibility, no mater where you are; We could have told them that, but of course they wouldn’t listen to us.”
As was sure to happen, though, all of the captors drank so deeply that they were soon nodding off. When the last one had fallen to the ground, David continued “All right, without the use of our hands, we won’t be able to do anything against it if this fire escapes. But be ready to jump and run. For now, just watch it.’
Everyone rolled off of their heels and sat watching the fire intently. Suddenly, about thirty minutes after the captors had fallen asleep, and the fire was just beginning to die out, a spark leaped out and caught on a branch which was hanging over the clearing. In the space of one minute, the whole branch was engulfed in flames. “That tree is gone!” David exclaimed “and soon so is this whole clearing! We have to run for our lives now!”
06 September 2010
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter XXIII
While the various adventures of the other wide- spread heroes continued, Michael was still stuck at the back of a slave ship heading for London. He had now succeeded in retrieving both of his weapons, the lack of which, fortunately, the slave-master never seemed to notice.
It had only been a couple of weeks since Michael had been captured, and already the ship had reached its destination. It was currently poling up the Thames River in London itself. After a lengthy interval of monotonous poling, a halt was called and the slaves rested. A minute later, Scarface and another man, who was evidently the “captain’ of the ship, emerged from the cabin, went over the side, and disappeared into the busy London traffic.
The two slavers made their way to the residence of the “Lord Dampish” they had mentioned in Africa. Upon reaching the highly polished front door, the captain roughly seized the ornate door knocker and swung it hard against the door several times.
Presently, a servant appeared at the door, peeking through the small hole. “My master does not desire acquaintance with uncouth creatures such as you. Good day.” The servant turned to walk away.
“Oh, shut up!” the slave traders answered “he knows us already, and we’ve got urgent business with him today. Let us in before someone notices!”
“Very well, how shall I announce you?”
“As his brothers.”
With a rather scared look on his face, the butler opened the door immediately, allowing the ragged sailors to push him roughly out of the way as they entered the richly furnished house.
The owner of the house evidently had extremely expensive tastes, as was shown by the fine Persian carpet on the floor, the exquisite (and purely ornamental) gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, several rich oriental tapestries hanging on the walls, and one or two stained-glass windows.
The three men strode down the long hall for a few minutes, reaching an elaborately carved door. They paused in front of the door while the butler announced their presence.
“My Lord, there are two men outside who desire to speak with you about business matters.”
“Send them in” said a weak voice on the other side of the door.
The butler threw open the double doors and the ragged slavers strode in and immediately seated themselves in the two oversized stuffed armchairs on their side of the desk.
The man who had called them in was wearing, in the fashion of the times, an elaborate powdered wig, a long scarlet overcoat, pristine white knee breeches with gold buttons down the sides, white silk stockings, and leather shoes with gold buckles.
He had his back turned to them as they entered. He was rifling through some documents in his hands, while endeavoring to block any sight of the contents of the safe in front of him as he did so. He was not successful. The two men in the chairs caught a fleeting glimpse of a large pile of gold as the other man, hastily shoving the documents back into the safe, shut and locked it.
He turned swiftly and stared at his visitors, nearly collapsing into the chair behind him.
“Nigel? And Saul?” he gasped “You survived?”
“Aye,” Nigel, the bald one, answered “You thought you had left us for dead when you marooned us in Africa three years back, but, seeing as we’re forgiving fellows, we’ve come to sell you the best of the stock. We have a surprisingly fit specimen to sell you that could probably prove very handy at anything you put him to. What will you pay for him?”
“I can’t do this anymore!” the wigged one shrieked, tearing off his wig, (revealing a large mop of dirty brown hair), and slamming it on the floor, leaping up and down upon the wig as he continued berating the others. “I can not stand to be a fence for your inhumane activities!’
Nigel and Saul watched this sudden burst of emotion without giving any sign that they cared what the other said. When he was done, they casually repeated their offer.
“We tell you, he’s the best of the stock, so what will you pay for him?”
“You don’t understand!” Samuel shouted “I’m in dept! If I don’t have another one hundred pounds by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll have nothing at all! I’ve been selling everything I own!”
“Notwithstanding, you’ll take him anyway, because I know what you’re like” Saul answered. He and Nigel got up and walked out of the room, leaving their de-wigged brother behind to ponder the situation.
Sure enough, before they had gotten very far away from the house, Saul and Nigel turned and saw Samuel running after them, wig in hand.
When he had caught up, Samuel spoke, saying “I’ve got a hundred pounds; that is my limit.”
“That will be ample.” The others answered.
“Tell me” Samuel continued “what does this lad look like?”
“Quite dashing, I can tell you,” Nigel responded “or at least he thought he was: hair all slashed off randomly, ripped and torn clothes, muscles you could see through his shirt, and nice dark skin, but he’s white underneath; oh, and one other thing: he was carrying this handsome little pair of knives. He tried to act as if they belonged to him, but I took them anyway. I’ve got them right here in my belt to show you.”
“What knives? I don’t see any knives.” said Samuel, looking back.
“What? No knives?” Nigel exclaimed, feeling the back of his belt. “Why, that dirty little sneak must have slipped them back out when I wasn’t watching! I’ll get him for that.”
The three men broke and charged back to the boat. By the time they had arrived, Michael had released himself and the rest of the prisoners, by the use of the knives he had taken back from Nigel.
Once he had released himself, and all the other prisoners in the ship, he set about attempting to make them understand what he meant to do.
By the time the three slavers had returned to the ship, Michael was so excited at the prospect of what he would do that he had been shouting at the Africans for the past several minutes. The last thing they heard him saying before they hurried aboard was “we will prevail!” The men stared at each other for a moment, wondering “we will prevail? The prisoners!” The men clambered up the nearest available ropes, readying their weapons on the way. When they reached the top, they were met by Michael, ready to throw, and backed by every prisoner from every deck, all unshackled.
“Treacherous dogs! Come to my aid, my crew!” Saul yelled, raising his sword and preparing to charge.
Without moving a muscle, Michael said, in a low tone everyone could hear “You’ll die if I want you to, because the crew can’t help you now. I can finish you off easily from this distance.”
“You’ve killed my crew!”
“The crew hasn’t got what they deserve, yet, but they will, soon after you three.” At a few words from Michael’s interpreter, the Africans surrounded Saul, Nigel, and Samuel and disarmed them.
“This is mutiny!” Saul screamed.
In the same low tone, Michael answered “There is no mutiny on a slave ship. There is only liberation. Do you consent to become my prisoners, or do you want to walk free? I know the answer you cowards will choose. Jump for it.” There was a slight pause as the three were led to the edge of the stern. Then Samuel gave in.
“I will stay under your guard.” He said “please. I can not swim, and dare not show my face in the city again anyhow.”
“Very well,” his brothers said with smirks on their faces “you can go into hiding with this boy, while we will be toasted by our underworld brethren.”
Suddenly becoming solemn and resolute, Samuel retorted “Very well to you too. You are not my brothers anymore. I will see you hang if it takes my last breath.” He tore off his wig and dropped it in the river. “I have drowned to my creditors. My name is John Crane.”
“You’ll never catch us alive, you’ll see.” With this last mean remark, Saul and Nigel leaped into the river and swam back to shore.
Michael turned and shouted “Release the crew! They shall row for us!” He turned to John Crane and said “I applaud you, sir. You are one of the bravest men I have ever met, even though you did not look that way at first.”
While the various adventures of the other wide- spread heroes continued, Michael was still stuck at the back of a slave ship heading for London. He had now succeeded in retrieving both of his weapons, the lack of which, fortunately, the slave-master never seemed to notice.
It had only been a couple of weeks since Michael had been captured, and already the ship had reached its destination. It was currently poling up the Thames River in London itself. After a lengthy interval of monotonous poling, a halt was called and the slaves rested. A minute later, Scarface and another man, who was evidently the “captain’ of the ship, emerged from the cabin, went over the side, and disappeared into the busy London traffic.
The two slavers made their way to the residence of the “Lord Dampish” they had mentioned in Africa. Upon reaching the highly polished front door, the captain roughly seized the ornate door knocker and swung it hard against the door several times.
Presently, a servant appeared at the door, peeking through the small hole. “My master does not desire acquaintance with uncouth creatures such as you. Good day.” The servant turned to walk away.
“Oh, shut up!” the slave traders answered “he knows us already, and we’ve got urgent business with him today. Let us in before someone notices!”
“Very well, how shall I announce you?”
“As his brothers.”
With a rather scared look on his face, the butler opened the door immediately, allowing the ragged sailors to push him roughly out of the way as they entered the richly furnished house.
The owner of the house evidently had extremely expensive tastes, as was shown by the fine Persian carpet on the floor, the exquisite (and purely ornamental) gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, several rich oriental tapestries hanging on the walls, and one or two stained-glass windows.
The three men strode down the long hall for a few minutes, reaching an elaborately carved door. They paused in front of the door while the butler announced their presence.
“My Lord, there are two men outside who desire to speak with you about business matters.”
“Send them in” said a weak voice on the other side of the door.
The butler threw open the double doors and the ragged slavers strode in and immediately seated themselves in the two oversized stuffed armchairs on their side of the desk.
The man who had called them in was wearing, in the fashion of the times, an elaborate powdered wig, a long scarlet overcoat, pristine white knee breeches with gold buttons down the sides, white silk stockings, and leather shoes with gold buckles.
He had his back turned to them as they entered. He was rifling through some documents in his hands, while endeavoring to block any sight of the contents of the safe in front of him as he did so. He was not successful. The two men in the chairs caught a fleeting glimpse of a large pile of gold as the other man, hastily shoving the documents back into the safe, shut and locked it.
He turned swiftly and stared at his visitors, nearly collapsing into the chair behind him.
“Nigel? And Saul?” he gasped “You survived?”
“Aye,” Nigel, the bald one, answered “You thought you had left us for dead when you marooned us in Africa three years back, but, seeing as we’re forgiving fellows, we’ve come to sell you the best of the stock. We have a surprisingly fit specimen to sell you that could probably prove very handy at anything you put him to. What will you pay for him?”
“I can’t do this anymore!” the wigged one shrieked, tearing off his wig, (revealing a large mop of dirty brown hair), and slamming it on the floor, leaping up and down upon the wig as he continued berating the others. “I can not stand to be a fence for your inhumane activities!’
Nigel and Saul watched this sudden burst of emotion without giving any sign that they cared what the other said. When he was done, they casually repeated their offer.
“We tell you, he’s the best of the stock, so what will you pay for him?”
“You don’t understand!” Samuel shouted “I’m in dept! If I don’t have another one hundred pounds by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll have nothing at all! I’ve been selling everything I own!”
“Notwithstanding, you’ll take him anyway, because I know what you’re like” Saul answered. He and Nigel got up and walked out of the room, leaving their de-wigged brother behind to ponder the situation.
Sure enough, before they had gotten very far away from the house, Saul and Nigel turned and saw Samuel running after them, wig in hand.
When he had caught up, Samuel spoke, saying “I’ve got a hundred pounds; that is my limit.”
“That will be ample.” The others answered.
“Tell me” Samuel continued “what does this lad look like?”
“Quite dashing, I can tell you,” Nigel responded “or at least he thought he was: hair all slashed off randomly, ripped and torn clothes, muscles you could see through his shirt, and nice dark skin, but he’s white underneath; oh, and one other thing: he was carrying this handsome little pair of knives. He tried to act as if they belonged to him, but I took them anyway. I’ve got them right here in my belt to show you.”
“What knives? I don’t see any knives.” said Samuel, looking back.
“What? No knives?” Nigel exclaimed, feeling the back of his belt. “Why, that dirty little sneak must have slipped them back out when I wasn’t watching! I’ll get him for that.”
The three men broke and charged back to the boat. By the time they had arrived, Michael had released himself and the rest of the prisoners, by the use of the knives he had taken back from Nigel.
Once he had released himself, and all the other prisoners in the ship, he set about attempting to make them understand what he meant to do.
By the time the three slavers had returned to the ship, Michael was so excited at the prospect of what he would do that he had been shouting at the Africans for the past several minutes. The last thing they heard him saying before they hurried aboard was “we will prevail!” The men stared at each other for a moment, wondering “we will prevail? The prisoners!” The men clambered up the nearest available ropes, readying their weapons on the way. When they reached the top, they were met by Michael, ready to throw, and backed by every prisoner from every deck, all unshackled.
“Treacherous dogs! Come to my aid, my crew!” Saul yelled, raising his sword and preparing to charge.
Without moving a muscle, Michael said, in a low tone everyone could hear “You’ll die if I want you to, because the crew can’t help you now. I can finish you off easily from this distance.”
“You’ve killed my crew!”
“The crew hasn’t got what they deserve, yet, but they will, soon after you three.” At a few words from Michael’s interpreter, the Africans surrounded Saul, Nigel, and Samuel and disarmed them.
“This is mutiny!” Saul screamed.
In the same low tone, Michael answered “There is no mutiny on a slave ship. There is only liberation. Do you consent to become my prisoners, or do you want to walk free? I know the answer you cowards will choose. Jump for it.” There was a slight pause as the three were led to the edge of the stern. Then Samuel gave in.
“I will stay under your guard.” He said “please. I can not swim, and dare not show my face in the city again anyhow.”
“Very well,” his brothers said with smirks on their faces “you can go into hiding with this boy, while we will be toasted by our underworld brethren.”
Suddenly becoming solemn and resolute, Samuel retorted “Very well to you too. You are not my brothers anymore. I will see you hang if it takes my last breath.” He tore off his wig and dropped it in the river. “I have drowned to my creditors. My name is John Crane.”
“You’ll never catch us alive, you’ll see.” With this last mean remark, Saul and Nigel leaped into the river and swam back to shore.
Michael turned and shouted “Release the crew! They shall row for us!” He turned to John Crane and said “I applaud you, sir. You are one of the bravest men I have ever met, even though you did not look that way at first.”
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