Greek Warriors

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Authors: Chris Blake
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thundercloud,
    He’s the high seas’ worst rapscallion,
    But he’ll help you pinch it from the crab,
    Within sight of the red cross galleon.”
    Isis sighed. “I haven’t got a clue what any of that means,” she said. “I never do.
    Explain, Professor Smartypants!”
    â€œWell, it mentions a Spaniard,” Tom said. “Most of the Caribbean islands were ruled by the Spanish. Not sure about the rest, but it sounds like we’ve got to look for a man with a hairy, scary face! Maybe the red cross means we’ll find him at a hospital.”
    Tom, Isis and Cleo set off walking towards the busy harbour.
    â€œWhat’s a ‘rapscallion’?” Isis asked.
    â€œMy grandad uses that word,” Tom said. “I think it means that we’re after a bad guy.”
    Before they’d gone far, they crossed paths with a young man. He was running so fast that he almost crashed right into them.
    â€œWatch it!” Tom said.
    The young man adjusted the red scarf that was tied around his long dark hair. He wore the same kind of breeches and shirt as Tom and Isis, except that his were covered in stains.
    â€œSorry!” he said, frowning. “What’s a pair of nippers doing in a dangerous hole like New Providence?”
    â€œIs that where we are?” Tom asked. He had heard about New Providence in his history books. It was a famous pirate port.
    The young man nodded. “Of course! You two need to get yourselves home sharpish, before you run into trouble.”
    â€œOh, we can’t,” Tom said, thinking fast. “We’ve been, er… shipwrecked. Our parents were lost at sea, but we clung to some wood and floated to this island.”
    Isis pulled a sad face and sniffed, adding, “We don’t have a home to go back to…”
    The young man held out his hand. “Salmagundi’s the name. Sal for short. I’m sorry to hear about your troubles.”
    Tom shook Sal’s hand. “I’m Tom, this is Isis, and her cat, Cleo.”
    â€œListen,” Sal said, leaning in. His tanned face made his green eyes look slightly wild. “Not everyone here on New Providence is nice. So stick by me, OK? I’ll take you to the Jolly Barnacle Inn. I do the cooking there. But one day I’m going to be a pirate.”
    Tom and Isis exchanged excited glances.
    He straightened up and peered at the sun. “But we’d better hurry, because if I don’t get a move on, I’ll be getting fifty of the owner’s best.”
    â€œBest what?” Isis asked.
    â€œFifty lashes. With a whip!”
    â€œOuch!” said Isis, wincing.
    As Tom, Isis and Cleo followed Sal into the port, Tom saw that the row of shops wasn’t very pretty close-up. There was broken glass in the window frames and rotten vegetables all over the ground.
    â€œYuck!” he said to Isis. “What a pong.”
    Isis nodded, holding her shirt over her nose.
    They arrived at the Jolly Barnacle Inn, with its sign hung crookedly over the door. As soon as they stepped inside, a finely dressed pirate with the most rotten teeth Tom had ever seen hurled a bar stool at another mean-looking, muscly man.
    â€œAre you sayin’ I look like a girl?” the elegant pirate said. He cocked his pistol and fired it at the ceiling, so that plaster showered down.
    The muscly pirate laughed heartily. “You look so much like a woman, they won’t let you back on your own ship with the real men!” He smacked the pistol out of the first pirate’s hand.
    â€œI’ll slit your gizzard for that!” the first pirate cried, drawing his cutlass.
    Crumbs
, Tom thought.
Talk about overreacting
.
    Tom, Isis, Cleo and Sal edged past the fighting pair.
    â€œNever insult a pirate if you value your life,” Sal advised them.
    He led them to an empty table in the corner. “Sit here, and try to stay out of everyone’s way,” he said.

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