Grace and the Pirates of the World

Grace sat on her horse and looked out across the swamplands before them. The horse’s steam puffed in clouds of white fog as it walked forward, sustaining its own warmth.

“This is where they say the pirates are hiding?” Grace turned to look at the group that followed behind her.

Behind her was her husband, Callum, who held their son in his arms.

“Aye, lass.” Callum laughed and nudged his horse forward so that he was next to Grace. “We heard it from a merchant. He said he saw a crew of pirates way up there, far off into the distance.” Callum pointed up towards a rocky cliff face that rose from the swamp and disappeared into an overcast sky.

“I don’t see anything up there. Maybe we missed them?” Grace frowned and looked around at the boggy surroundings of the swamp. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and shivered as a cold gust of wind blew across her face.

Callum laughed again and reached over to squeeze Grace’s hand with his big, warm one. “Who knows, love? But if we get a chance to fight some pirates, I think you might be glad we made this trip. You know how much you like fighting pirates! And if you get a chance to cast that spell you were talking about…” Callum winked conspiratorially at his wife and she smiled back at him.

They had been traveling for months now, slowly making their way through each country in turn as they moved in search of a place to settle down for good. The idea had always been for them to find a place that was peaceful and pleasant enough for Grace to work magic without fear of being attacked or destroyed by those who feared what she could do with just a flick of her fingers or a whisper of an incantation in another language no-one understood; but they hadn’t yet found such a place - not since they left their home country of Norway far behind them many weeks ago - so they kept moving further away, and further still, past Denmark and Germany and Italy until now they found themselves here in France in search of somewhere quiet enough for Grace to practice her art without fear of persecution by those who worshipped so many different gods that it was hard for anyone to know who should be worshipped above all others - though these days most people claimed only one god - The One True God - but this was hard for Grace to understand anyway, because she had never seen or heard or read about this One True God, but instead had learned from her mother how all gods were real in their own ways: how every man and woman was their own god or goddess whose job it was to create miracles using whatever tools or talent each person had for doing so; how each person had their own special spellbook filled with things they could do with their hands when accompanied by words that took on physical form; how everyone could learn how to wield power over other people with just the right words spoken at just the right time when working together toward something good - because if you wanted something bad enough then nothing would stop your words from manifesting into reality; if you wanted someone dead then all you had to do was speak an incantation into existence while picturing yourself holding their heart between your hands after you ripped it out of their chest while laughing maniacally until your cheeks were red and your eyes were wild with bloodlust; if you wanted someone dead but didn’t want yourself dead too then you would have to practice uttering those very same words over and over until finally you knew that death would come for them but not you; live by its rules long enough, memorize its patterns until you knew precisely which way it would bend its rules in order for you to stay alive; eventually live longer than death itself because you know what death doesn’t want you to know: that it is just another man or woman dressed up like death but really isn’t death at all - death is just another person like any other person pretending they can hold power over others while secretly knowing deep down inside that no one has more power than another person when working together toward something good! Because where did power come from if not from everyone working together toward something good?! If everyone shared everything? If everyone listened well when someone else spoke? If everyone acted kindly toward one another? If everyone lived simply? If everyone loved everyone else? If everyone gave freely? If everyone shared equally? Then there would be no need for war! No need for inequality! Instead we would all share everything equally! Live in peace! Live happily ever after! In love! In joy! In harmony! In peace! Peace everywhere! Peace forevermore! Amen! Amen! Blessed be our merciful Mother Goddess great is Her name let us praise Her name let us praise Her name let us praise Her name…