The Saga of Sweetangel – Part 13

Hi folks, sorry for not posting yesterday!

There goes the commitment to posting every day!

In my defence, I was so full of cold that I could barely string a sentence together.

Anyway, here’s the penultimate episode of Sweetangel!


Dirtlings of all shapes and sizes,

Matching their name with dirt covered faces,

Laboured slowly by flickering light.

Each man, woman and child wore chains,

And worried lodeshells from their rocky beds,

Spurred on by the threat of the whip’s bite.


Turtle spotted Frog right away,

On a lower level with ten urchins,

And a guard from whose belt hung a key.

Dhrudj and his men were packing shells,

Into crates that bore ellingfant motifs,

To smuggle out as Hashmiri tea.


Poulter slipped down to the low ground,

And began sneaking up behind the guard,

With Turtle to help calm the children.

Longthorn crept to the older slaves,

Hoping that once freed they would join the fight,

But he was seen by Dhrudj’s brethren.


Two men came down upon Longthorn,

And he fought them hard with fist and razor,

But three more jailors came to their aid.

He felled two before they stopped him,

But the rest beat Longthorn with their cudgels,

And Dhrudj threatened him with a curved sword.


“Who are you?” the thug demanded,

“I spy a tattoo of the Pope’s Navy,”

“But you’re a long way from God my friend.”

“I lost my faith and left my post,”

“After Greywater Bay,” murmured Longthorn,

“But I’m not afraid to face my end.”


“Brothers, I know this man,” said Dhrudj,

“I captured him along with his crewmen,”

“When I sailed as a cannon for hire.”

“How and why did you find our mine?”

“Are there others who would threaten my work?”

Dhrudj used his scimitar to enquire.


by Bret

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