Tracking Down a Bloodline: Part Two
“The heir... He did vanish years ago, but recently I’ve found out where he is. He’s alive and well,” Glint said. Garin and Jacques glanced at one another.
“And?” Garin still felt unsatisfied. Glint looked at Garin. There was a long, awkward silence. Glint’s eyes went misty.
“I suppose you should know,” he said quietly. He took a deep breath. “Rebecca died, giving birth to King’s son. I was there when she...” Glint sighed. “I knew the child deserved a good home, which I could not give to him. So, that same night, I had heard about a young couple in a nearby village whose newborn son had died. So I took the child that same, cold, rainy night to the village, and luckily the couple had left the window to the dead infant’s room open, and his crib was right under the window. I reached in, took out the dead child, and replaced it with Rebecca’s son. I waited until the father came in, and when he found the child alive... Let’s just say I’d never seen anyone happier. He and his wife never even noticed the switch, so with that, I left, and buried the dead infant with Rebecca.”
“That’s it?” Jacques asked.
“No, Jacques. There’s far more to it than you could ever imagine.”
I knew it, Garin thought.
“I never again went to see Rebecca’s son after that, but one thing I do know about the boy is that he is alive and well. And last I heard about him, he had a wife and family of his own. Their boy should be... Oh, about your age now. But one thing I’ll never forget about him... his eyes. They were piercing, just like his father’s. King’s piercing gaze is the only thing I could ever recognize him by again, and I’ve never seen anyone with that gaze ever since... until tonight. Though not through King’s son... Through his GRANDSON.”
Glint made eye contact with Garin. “King’s eyes were crystal blue, just like yours. And you look just like him.” Garin’s eyes widened.
Garin’s dagger clattered to the floor. His eyes were wide with shock.
“No... Tha-That can’t be right...” he stammered.
“It is,” Glint said, standing up. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who’s had eyes like King's. And despite your father being raised as he was, you’re more like King himself than I ever imagined you to be. You plan in split seconds, you’re agile and are not afraid of your enemies. Just like King...”
Garin shook his head in disbelief. Jacques stared at him. Was it really true?
“No. There... must be a mistake! My parents are simple fisherman, not pirates!” Garin took a small step back.
“Oh and how do you explain how you desired so much to be a pirate?” Glint said. “Can you even explain why your father lived on honesty, and you turned to a life of piracy? It’s because it’s in your blood, lad! King lives on in you instead of his son! The treasure is yours by right... because you ARE King’s grandson.”
Garin looked at Glint, tears of disbelief gathering in his eyes.
“No... That’s not...” Garin turned and ran out of the house and vanished into the forest.
“Garin!” Jacques started after him.
“Let him go, lad,” Glint said as he sat back down. “He needs some time to think.”
“But how can this be possible?” Jacques asked. “I’ve known Garin since we were small! I knew his folks! They can’t be-”
“Since you were small, eh?” Glint asked. “Well then tell me, does his father have brown eyes, but blond colored hair?”
“A-Aye... That’s right... But how did you know that?”
“Because even though Garin has King’s eyes,” said Glint. “I remember that their son had Rebecca’s eyes... which were brown.”
Garin ran out of the trees near the beach, stopped on the shore, and let out a scream, a scream of rage. He fell to his knees on the sandy ground and took a fistful in both hands. He breathed heavily in exhaustion and disbelief, tears streaming from his eyes. It wasn’t true! It wasn’t! Glint was lying... but what if it was true? Garin looked at the sky for an answer, only to receive none. Garin thought about what Glint said, and now, he didn’t know who he was anymore. He knew he was Garin, the captain of the Black Pawkeet, but he didn’t know if he was the grandson of a pair of fishermen, or the grandson of a bloodthirsty buccaneer. Garin slammed his fist into the ground.
Garin’s gaze fell downward to the ground. He looked at the reflection of the moon in the water. It seemed to be shivering and trembling as much as he was.
Garin relaxed his muscles. It didn’t matter who his parents or grandparents were, he was who HE was, and no one more. Garin stood up. His grandparents by blood might be the reason for his pirate-like ways, but the parents who raised him were the reason he did not have the black heart of other pirates. He, Jacques, and his crew had a sense of honor. And that was all that mattered. Garin smiled. He looked at the stars, and felt complete again.
“My, my. Being a little incautious, aren’t we?” mocked a voice. Garin whirled around. Scarblade and his crew had surrounded him. Garin bared his teeth. He reached for the hilt of his Maractite dagger, but found it was gone. He had dropped it at Glint’s house! Garin looked at Scarblade, who now stood in front of him, with his cutlass at his throat. Garin gulped.
“Garin, the grandson of the most famous pirate in the five seas... I can’t believe it,” Jacques said, staring into the flames.
“Aye. I thought I’d never live to see that boy, but it seems fate proved me wrong,” Glint said. “When he’s ready, I’ll take him to where King left the treasure for him.”
“Where?” asked Jacques. Glint gave a tricky smile.
“That’s for Garin to know,” he said. Jacques laughed. He looked at the window. Glint’s smile faded. “We better go look for him.”
“I thought you said he needed time.”
“Aye, that I did, but you’re forgetting one thing, Scarblade’s still out there.” Glint stood up. Jacques’ eyes widened.
“We have to find him before he does!” he exclaimed. “Let’s go!” Jacques started out the door.
“Wait a minute, Jacques,” Glint said. He opened up a cupboard door and pulled out two extra cutlasses. “Now we’re ready. Let’s just hope Garin’s alright.”
Jacques looked down.
“Glint... It just got worse.” Jacques bent over and picked up the Maractite dagger. “Garin’s unarmed!”
Glint blanched. “Oh no.”
“Where are you taking me, you slimy bilge rat?!” Garin demanded.
Scarblade just smirked. “Somewhere,” he said with a cruel chuckle.
Garin growled and tried relentlessly to free himself from his bonds, but a good prod from Benny the Blade’s knife, and he stopped. Garin bit his lip. Did they know he was the heir? Were they going to use him to open the treasure? Or worse, were they going to use him as bait?
“I HATE being prisoner,” Garin murmured. Scarblade snickered.
“Ye won’t be prisoner for long, me bucko,” he said. “You’re just going to witness my greatest triumph, then, you’ll be set free.” Something in Scarblade’s voice told Garin that ‘free’, meant he was as good as dead. But he still had one thing on his side; a secret.
“Scarblade still thinks he’s the heir,” Garin thought. “And as long as it stays that way, once we reach the location, when he finds out he’s NOT the heir, I can make him think I know who and where the real heir is. Which I do, but who says I can’t lie?” Garin smirked behind his archrival’s back. Things were going to go his way after all.
They came to an old cemetery. Garin looked around, pretend nervously, and then looked at Scarblade. He swallowed hard.
“I thought you said I would go free,” he said.
Scarblade looked at Garin over his shoulder. He smiled, but it was not a friendly smile.
“You will.” Scarblade kept walking forward. Benny gave Garin a prod in the back and urged him forward as well. Garin rolled his eyes.
“I get the point, Benny,” he grumbled.
They came to a large tomb, with a heart engraved above the door. Garin cocked his head. King’s symbol, perhaps? Scarblade’s two largest crewmembers, Brute the Tonu and Champ the Cybunny, broke down the stone door down, and it left behind a thick cloud of dust. Scarblade walked inside, his crew followed, Garin still behind them. Another very thick stone door lay in front of them. Garin gulped. Was the treasure right behind that door? Garin looked at the patterns around the doorframe. They looked like chess pieces. He shook his head.
“Will this craziness ever end?!” he thought.
“Glint, they took Garin inside!” Jacques whispered.
Glint bit his lip. “Drat!” he said. “Now chances of saving him are slimmer than ever!”
“What do we do?” asked Talak.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” Jacques said. They were hiding behind tombstones in the cemetery, which barely hid them. “We could try a sneak attack.”
“Well, King always loved a good ambush, and a nice game of chess, but...” Glint started.
“Chess? Wait a minute...” Jacques looked around the tomb, and noticed that the tombstones that lay around it on both sides looked similar to large chess pieces. Jacques gaped.
“That’s it! Glint, you’re a genius!” Jacques exclaimed. Glint stared.
“Yes! Look!” Jacques pointed to the tombstones. “Those tombstones are laid out exactly like chess pieces in the midst of a game! We can use them as cover to sneak over!”
“Oh, brilliant!” Glint grinned.
“Alright crew, half of you on this side of the tomb, and half of you on the other,” said Jacques. “C’mon move!” The crew obeyed. “The pieces are set. So let’s play.”
Scarblade stared. The door wasn’t opening! He didn’t understand. It should’ve opened by now. He had tried everything, but the doors, the cursed doors! He snarled.
“What is going on?!?” he shouted, hitting the door. He heard a chuckle behind him. Garin tried to stifle his laughter, but Scarblade, for once, looked like a complete idiot! Garin got serious again and looked Scarblade straight in his enraged eye.
“Haven’t you heard the stories, old man?” he asked. “Only King’s heir can open the doors.”
“I AM King’s heir!!!” Scarblade bellowed.
Garin grinned. “Oh really?” he asked.
Scarblade growled, his blood boiled.
“All right, if you’re so smart...” He grabbed Garin by the front of his shirt, cut his bonds and thrust him forward. “You open it!”
Garin blanched. The tide had just turned against him.
“Now what??” he thought desperately. Garin scanned the door, and took a deep breath.
To be continued...