At the top of the first small hill, the sand of the beach met the grass in stark opposition to one another. The sand appeared to be clawing its way forward as the grass and earth fought to stay aloft, causing the grass to curl down and almost touch the sand beneath an overhang. The grass clung to its former solid ground like a climber on the edge of a precipice. One slip and it would crash away, and it too would become the sand.
Across the small beach, Anne could see many such scenes of the eroding coast, exposing years of compacted earth and stone to the air. The soil here was unstable near the beach, and if it held true across the island, then they were unlikely to have any ports aside from the town that Silver Eyes occupied: one major town for trade, which the other villages supplied.
Once at the top of the hill, Anne was able to get a better view of the island, or at least what she could see of it. The rolling hills obstructed much from view, but she noticed the top of a few buildings to the north, one being a large bell tower, as well as a well-travelled dirt road nearby.
William and the other crewmates crested the hills to join Anne, and she directed their attention to the village nearby. "We'll head there first. Stick to the road and keep your weapons hidden as well as you can manage for now. We don't want to alarm the villagers and have them sending scouts to warn Silver Eyes."
Anne looked over her shoulder, and the crewmates who were watching her nodded their understanding while some took in their surroundings. They each had cloaks covering down to their ankles, and each of them adjusted the weapons on them to remain concealed under the heavy fabric.
"Hubert, Lucas, head to that hill over there and keep watch." Anne was pointing to a rather tall hill just west of the town. "You should be able to see the town and the ship from there. If you see anyone leaving town or any ships approaching, find us." The two crewmates gave an "Aye, Captain," before leaving for the hill.
Anne led the others down the dusty dirt road towards town. As they approached, the hills tapered off and turned into fields filled with rows upon rows of farmland. Anne could see wheat prominently, with some just ripening for harvest, as well as large fields of corn, and smaller fields of potatoes, tomatoes, varieties of lettuce, and other greens Anne couldn't distinguish.
Going from the salty air of the sea to the hot sand and earth on the coast, to the freshly tilled soil, manure, and vegetables felt like stepping into another world. Most of the places that Anne had been to, not just while with the Queen Anne's Revenge, had been towns of considerable size, large bustling machines composed of men and women working at a pace set to a particular rhythm, the rhythm of people trying to stay alive and make a living in a harsh world. Stepping into this village, which couldn't house more than fifty residents, was like stepping through the gates to a new world. A smaller world, a slower world, one removed from the harsh realities of life on the sea, or life led by the whims and fancies of others.
As they walked into the village, they passed by farmers, old grizzled men with their sons at their side, working the fields. Using hoes, they delicately removed weeds from the budding vegetables or crushed bugs threatening the harvest between rough, dirty, but skilled fingers. They waved and called pleasant hellos to Anne and her company, broad smiles on their faces as though they had no care in the world and were welcoming to any and all visitors.
The joviality forced the knot back into Anne's gut.
This was not the attitude of a village of oppressed men and women under the thumb of a tyrannical pirate regime. It wasn't even reminiscent of a remote village visited by eight strangers who, even with weapons hidden, had the appearance of fighters. No one sounded an alarm, none rushed to tell the other villagers of their arrival, and not a single person gave them a wary look of concern.
Peculiar. Anne could describe it no better than peculiar in her mind. If they hadn't been in the heart of enemy territory, it would have been a simple thing, an oddity she could whisk away with the thought that they were a strange group of people. Here, though, it set her mind to a razor's edge.
Without thought she settled a hand on the golden cutlass at her hip. She only came back to her senses when she felt the tip of the metal, guarded in a sheathe, pressing against the fabric of her cloak. She adjusted her weapon and forced her hands to her sides.
When they reached the village proper, where the farmland turned into houses and a few small businesses, she had to force herself to keep her hands still.
There were men working wagons, repairing wheels and feeding horses, women gossiping near the local general store while a pair of men played a game of chess on the deck near its entrance, and some just walking to another part of the village on an errand. Anne could hear the slow, methodical clang of metal striking metal in a nearby smithy, though she couldn't place the building among those she could see.
In the centre of the hamlet, Anne was able to better see the tall bell tower, and it was by far the most arresting architecture around them. The other buildings looked well worn, old, and humble. The bell tower had all the same trappings, but the bell itself glinted against the late afternoon sun with a brilliance no
