The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen by Christopher Newman Page B

your sadistic master, I know how to wield one.”
    “State yer terms, pirate!” the sergeant muttered.
    “I want my crew and ship! If I sense even the slightest whiff of treachery on your parts, I will snuff out the life of this dandy as quickly as you can say ahoy. Have we an accord, my fine fellows?”
    “Nay! I will not bargain with the likes of you!”
    “We dare not provoke her, Sergeant—that’s Milady Vixen! She’ll do what she says,” a trembling private uttered.
    “He has the right of it,” she sneered. “My course is locked and my fate fixed. I care not to die, but to take a coward such as this with me would make dying sweet indeed.”
    “All right, all right, you sea-harlot—we have an agreement!”
    Vixen grinned with absolute delight.
    I cannot possibly do justice to the parade that wound its way from the keep to the docks of Purdy-on-the-Sea. Suffice it to say the population of the harbor city were astonished and struck dumb, for at the head of it was a proud, naked brown woman holding a pistol to the forehead of the royal who watched over them. Equally disconcerting was the way he shuffled along, his hands clenching his loins, giving them all pause to wonder what had happened. Rumors ran like stray barking dogs for many a week. Most reviled Milady Vixen for possibly depriving Duke Popinjay of the ability to sire heirs, while others suggested the female pirate had all but twisted off the royal’s manhood with a snap of her thick thighs. In hushed whispers in many a darkened tavern this tale was told. However, the duke had three strapping boys and one dull-eyed daughter after his meeting with Vixen. Most of the Effingham gentry did well not to delve too deeply into their heritage.
    The right of it is this; Vixen did emasculate yon duke, but by use of her bare feet. His line came to a halting, sudden stop. How do I know? Unlike those ale-soaked gossipers, I went to the source, which is why you know the truth. I pray you keep it a secret, for the heirs of Popinjay would have you whipped for spreading the tale. Don’t worry about me—I am well versed in escaping those who seek to silence me. I have evaded the noose too many a time to mention. Fear not for my old hide; I see all their plots and plans despite only possessing one eye.

Raising Tankards, Sails and Hell
    Pirate’s Cove was aptly named. Hidden in the mist-shrouded islands off the coast of the Free Nation of Balzac, it was a known haven for buccaneers, scalawags and filibusters of all races and creeds. The knife-like harbor cut into the isle, permitting only one ship at a time to enter or exit. High mountains ranged the other sides, making it almost impossible to invade. A rough and rowdy town grew up in this port, and it was a safe place for pirates of all sorts to dock, refit and re-arm. Additionally, a lucrative black market of stolen goods sprang up.
    In this town, known as Last Chance, there was an inn of dark repute named The Seasick Parrot. I believe I’ve mentioned it in passing before. As our tale continues, The Parrot was currently enjoying a docking of many buccaneer vessels, one of those being the Sea Fox.
    The pub’s occupants were in a rollicking, carefree mood. Upon the stage a pipe, organ and drum filled the smoky inn with a merry tune. Vixen and Ginger Tom sat at their table, both with their backs to the wall. Laughing, they listened to the song recounting Vixen’s latest exploits. Tapping her foot to the sailor’s jig, she found herself smiling wider at each refrain.
    There was a pirate lass, Milady Vixen was her name.
    Bold and daring, fierce of heart was her claim to fame.
    Sword in hand she did her best, plunderin’ the briny deep.
    Many a sailor she did send to Davy Jones to sleep.
    Vixen! Vixen! Her heart ever true!
    Vixen! Vixen! Sailed upon the blue!
    Now Effingham did hate this lass, and many ships did sail.
    Captured her and her brave crew, to send beyond the pale.
    But Vixen feared not, she was made of