Pony Treasure Island

Chapters

At the Admiral Benbow
Black Crow Appears and Disappears
The Blind Mare

At the Admiral Benbow

"I was Celaeno's first mate that voyage. Three days east o' Griffon Stone in the Everfree Sea. Celaeno knew o' an island, that's where we buried the treasure. A lone island, it was, and clearly cursed which is why Celaeno chose it. Bits and blood, they were Celaeno’s trademarks. She’s leave both behind them that day. She took only a hooful of us to the island, secrecy and the like. They braved perils of the jungle, crossing hither and yon to find a suitable spot to bury the treasure. It ne'er took too long afore they found a place, but Celaeno, she couldn't leave the others with knowledge of the location of the treasure. It's like the sayin' goes, ya see. Dead Mares tell No Tales. Oh aye, fifteen creatures went ashore that day and only Celaeno, her own self, returned. Aye, then old Celaeny, up and died afore she could get back to the accursed island, and dig up the treasure," Boyle, the elderly parrot, said to the drunken patrons of the Admiral Benbow Inn.

"Now isn't that a story worth a' hearin'?" he asked, the patrons repeating in unison.

"It was the first dozen times we heard it," Lyra Heartstrings muttered.

"I'll drink to that!" Berry Punch, the perpetual drunk, slurred.

"But who has the map now, eh? Some black hearted, squid sucking buccaneer? Or maybe it's our very own Applebloom?! Eh, Bloomy?" Boyle called. Applebloom, a yellow filly with a red mane and bow, smiled as she wiped down a few tankards.

"If I had it my friends and I wouldn't be here serving ya cider, Mr. Boyle," she said.

"That's right! We'd be off searching for that treasure!" Sweetie Belle, a white unicorn filly said.

"Hah, not me. If I had that treasure map, I'd be trading it for a decent meal," Scootaloo, an orange pegasus filly, muttered. She approached a discarded plate of food near Boyle and smiled. "Hey, Sweetie, you think he's gonna eat this?" she asked, reaching for the food.

"AYE! Beware the three-legged mare. She's the one to fear," Boyle growled, causing Scootaloo to recoil

"Don't worry, Cap'n. We'll watch for her," Applebloom said.

"Even old Celaeny feared her. If she comes poking around here, you all run for me lickedy split!" Boyle said, as a snort went through the Inn. One of the patrons named Lickedy Split was a bit miffed. "Beggin' yer pardon, Miss. I meant no offense," Boyle said with a small smile.

"ALRIGHT EVERYCREATURE! IT'S CLOSING TIME! PAY YOUR BILLS AND THEN SHOVE OFF!" a voice called out! All the heads turned to the second floor where the current owner of the Admiral Benbow descended down the stairs. In a stained apron, and a scowl that could curdle milk, Starlight Glimmer entered the first floor dining room with a candle clutched by her magic. The patrons mumbled, as chairs scraping across the floor rang out. “Girls! Look at this place! How is it I always manage to find it so messy, huh?” Starlight asked her young charges.

“Here’s to you, girls. I’m away to me room!” Boyle announced, hobbling away from the table and up the stairs. Starlight was ushering the patrons out, enticing them with what’d be on the menu the next day, before closing the door with a scowl.

“Alright girls, when you’re finished in here, go clean in the kitchen. I left some table scraps in there for supper,” she said, snuffing out the candle in her magic. “Oh, and girls, one more thing. LAST NIGHT YOU FORGOT TO PUT OUT THE LANTERN! FORGET AGAIN, THERE’LL BE NO TABLE SCRAPS FOR A WEEK!!”

~~~~~~********~~~~~~

“I hate my life,” Applebloom grumbled.

“The feeling’s mutual, AB. I hate it too,” Sweetie Belle replied, struggling to snuff out the lantern with her magic. She was on Scootaloo’s shoulders, who in turn was being held up by Applebloom.

“If I had anything resembling a life, I’d agree with you both,” Scootaloo said. After a bit more effort, the lantern was put out. The three fillies brushed themselves off and looked out to the horizon. The waves licked at the shore, as the moon shone down.

“I’ve been thinking, ever since Mom got sick, I should run off to sea like she did,” Applebloom said, as the wind whipped at her mane. “She was my age when she sailed to Manehatten as a cabin filly, and wound up a first mate, to boot.

“Wait really? Run off to sea and just leave everypony?” Scootaloo asked.

“I mean, you two can come too. Imagine it, our lives being just like one of Captain Boyle’s adventures!” Applebloom said, pulling out the silver compass her mother had gifted her years ago. “Navigating Mom’s old compass to wherever the wind’ll take us!”

“That’d be great!” Scootaloo whooped.

“To the south west! Pirate galleons!” Applebloom announced.

“To the south east! Multi-limbed sharks and there exploding wings of death!” Sweetie Belle giggled.

“TO THE NORTH WEST! DIRTY DISHES!” the shrill voice of Starlight Glimmer echoed.

“Okay, how does she do that?” Scootaloo asked.

“Come on, girls. Might as well start. I’ll wash,” Applebloom said, heading back for the entrance.

“Yeah, I’ll dry,” Sweetie Belle replied.

“I’ll break,” Scootaloo added.

As the three fillies walked inside, a dark figure headed up the path to the Admiral Benbow. There eyes sparkled, as they saw the door close behind them. This was the last place they needed to check for their old shipmate. There cutlass swinging at their side, they set there brow, hoping they wouldn’t have to use it. Hoping they could convince there old shipmate to give them all what was owed. If not, then there’d be no choice. They would be granted a pirate’s death sentence, they and the unfortunate souls at the Admiral Benbow.

Black Crow Appears and Disappears

The morning sun shone high over the Admiral Benbow, as Applebloom descended down the stairs to begin the day. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo and Starlight were still asleep. Before her mother fell ill, she’d entrusted Applebloom to take care of the Inn, even without the aid of her friends. So, as the yellow filly wiped down the counter of the bar, the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a large crow. Dressed in black with a jaunty tri-corner hat on his head and a cutlass at his side, his black eyes darted here and there as he took in the sight of the quaint little Inn.

“Good mornin’, Sir. What can I get ya?” Applebloom greeted, not forgetting her manners even in the presence of this intimidating stranger. The crow chuckled, as he set his eyes on the filly.

“Cider, lassie. Cider’ll do fine,” he said, his voice gravelly and weathered. Applebloom nodded, pulling out the cider and pouring the crow a glass. He smiled, and downed it in one shot. “This be a quaint little grog house. Who’s the owner?”

“Well, Starlight Glimmer runs it, Sir, but it’s owned by my mother,” Applebloom said, as the crow threw a silver bit onto the counter.

“Ah. Where be your mother, lass?” the crow asked.

“Upstairs, Sir. She’s taken sick. Cockatrice,” the filly said sadly. The crow frowned, his face displaying remorse.

“Oh, what a pity. Many an honest sailor I know to have succumbed to the illness of a Cockatrice. It be a sorry plight.” Reaching into his large black coat, the crow extracted a satchel. Applebloom could see a flintlock pistol tucked into his belt, and she noticed two of his feathers were missing from his left wing. “Here. Give this to yer mother with ‘er bread and water tonight and she’ll be right as rain come mornin’. A gift for services rendered,” the crow said with a smile. Applebloom was a bit skeptical, but took the gift, which she saw to be a colored powder, anyway. The crow smiled as Applebloom refilled his glass. “Any other seafarin’ creatures come through here, my lass?”

“No, Sir. None get this far,” Applebloom said.

“Not even a parrot by the name of Boyle?” the crow inquired, downing the cider again.

“The Cap’n?” Applebloom asked, receiving a hearty laugh from the crow.

“Boyle would fix himself up as Cap’n,” he said under his breath. “Aye, me dear! The very same! Is the Cap’n here?”

“No, Sir. He’s out for a walk,” Applebloom said.

“Will he be back soon?” the crow asked.

“Most likely, Sir,” Applebloom replied.

“What be yer name, me dear?”

“Applebloom, Sir.”

“Applebloom, is it? A proper seafarin’ name, that is. Were yer mother a seafarin’ mare, lass?”

“Yes, Sir. Mother sailed to Manehatten as a cabin filly and came back first mate,” the yellow filly said proudly. The crow laughed again, deep and hearty.

“Ah! A fine tale, that be. Tell me, Applebloom, didst ya never imagine a life on the sea?” the crow asked.

Applebloom smiled. “I have imagined it, Sir, aye. I’ve always imagined signin’ on to the first ship I could find and livin’ a life of adventure.”

“And what a life ye’d have. Why, I can imagine it now. Ye’d be at the helm of a great ship, the crew scrambling to obey yer orders, as they call out yer name. ‘Captain Applebloom!’ Har har!” the crow cackled. Applebloom laughed with him as the door swung open and Boyle stood in the doorway.

“Ahoy, Cap’n,” Applebloom called.

“Boyle, me friend! Good ta see ya, you old buzzard!” the crow laughed.

“Black Crow,” Boyle growled, his cutlass coming out in an instant. Black Crow stood up, his wings up in peace, as the parrot slowly encroached.

“Ease your steel, Boyle. There be no need for violence. I’ve been merely sitting her getting to know this young filly who I’ve taken quite a shine to. Sheathe your blade and let us sit down as two old shipmates over a drink. Applebloom! Some cider for me and me mate, lass!” he said. Boyle looked from Black Crow to Applebloom, before sheathing his sword. Pulling up a chair, he nodded at Applebloom.

“Cider, Applebloom,” he said, in agreement with Black Crow. The bird in question sat at the table set up for Boyle in the dining room. Angled so that one eye was on his old shipmate and the other on the door, if he needed to beat a hasty retreat. Applebloom came over with the bottle of cider, pouring two glasses for the seabirds.

“Leave the bottle, lassie and give me and me old shipmate some time alone,” Black Crow said. Applebloom looked to Boyle, who nodded.

“Do as he says, Applebloom,” he grumbled, his eyes never leaving Black Crow. Applebloom nodded, leaving the bottle of cider on the table, before rushing upstairs to the room she shared with her two friends. The last thing she heard was Black Crow’s voice.

“A fine lass, she is, Boyle.”

~~~~~~********~~~~~~

“Girls! Girls, wake up!” Applebloom squealed to her friends. “Scoots! Sweetie! Come on, wake up! There’s a bird downstairs!” she said.

Scootaloo opened one eye and grumbled. “We know, Applebloom. We’ve all met him. It’s Captain Boyle,” the orange Pegasus mumbled.

“No, Scoot! It’s ANOTHER bird! They’re a shipmate of the Captain!”

Sitting up instantly, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo gasped. “Another seafaring bird?” they both asked in astonishment. Applebloom nodded, motioning her head to the door. The three fillies snuck to the top of the stairs, as the conversation between the two birds became heated.

“NO! NO, NO, NO, by thunder! It’s all owed to me, by rights and I’ll not share a bit! Not with you, certainly not with that blighted three-legged mare, no creature! Ya hear me?!” Boyle bellowed. Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked at each other. What was owed to the Captain? The ring of a sword being loosed from it’s sheathe came next, as Black Crow growled.

“By rights it be owed to all o’ us, Boyle!” Another ring of steel, as a second sword was drawn!

“Shove off, you scallawag, before I skewers you on me cutlass!” Boyle snarled. A roar from Black Crow came and the three fillies heard the clashing of steel as the two fought. A table broke, a bottle was broken, then more steel clashing. Finally, Black Crow let out a cry of pain as he rushed for the door. Applebloom could see a wound in his right wing, as he took off down the path, Boyle following him in a rage, his sword still drawn! The three fillies rushed downstairs, seeing the dining room in tatters, as the Captain hobbled back, slamming the door shut. The table Boyle would sit at was broken in two, the bottle of cider smashed to pieces and a few drops of blood was on the stone floor.

“Cap’n! Are you alright?” Applebloom asked! Boyle said nothing, merely thumping up the stairs to his room, growling and huffing and puffing. He took one glance into his room, at the old wooden sea-chest next to his bed, then he took a deep breath and looked to the three fillies.

“Applebloom, I’m giving you and your friends a task. If Black Crow is here, the three-legged mare ain’t far behind. I want the three of ye ta promise me that ye’ll keep yer weather eyes open for her. I know I’ve always told ya to look out for her before, but that was merely when it was a possibility. Now, it’s a certainty,” he said. Applebloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo gulped, but they nodded to the Captain. Boyle took one step, then collapsed, falling down the stairs.

“Cap’n!!” Applebloom screamed, as she and her two friends rushed to check on the parrot. “Sweetie, Scoot, get a chair for him. Cap’n, can you hear me?” she asked. Boyle grumbled in response, as Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo helped him into an intact chair.

“Cider, Applebloom. Give me cider,” Boyle mumbled. Applebloom frowned.

“Cap’n, you need a doctor! You’re hurt after whatever Black Crow did to ya.”

“Bah! Hang all doctors!” Boyle growled. “Cider!” Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo sighed.

“Applebloom, go get the doctor. We’ll handle the Captain,” they said. Applebloom nodded and, as fast as her legs could carry her, rushed to the doctor’s practice.

The Blind Mare

Later that night, after Applebloom had brought the doctor to the Captain, all was quiet at the Admiral Benbow. Boyle was at his table, finishing his dinner, while Applebloom was upstairs tending to her mother.

It turned out that Black Crow spoke true about the medicine. When Buttercup was served her bread and water, with the medicine mixed in, it took not but an hour for her to feel better than she had in a while. The Doctor was skeptical, but told the young filly that he’d be back in the morning to check on Buttercup’s condition. As Applebloom gathered up her mother’s dirty clothes, Buttercup attempted to throw the covers off for the third time. “MA! You heard Doctor Turner! You need to stay in bed till the morning! He needs to make sure you’re not gonna relapse,” Applebloom sighed, pushing her mother back down into the mattress. Buttercup smiled, kissing her daughter’s head.

“Oh, darlin’. I’m so happy how responsible you are, but I’m feeling more alive than I have in awhile! It’ll be alright! I know Doctor Turner means well, but he worries too much at times.”

“He needs to, Ma! When last he saw you, he was sure ya weren’t gonna make it. You making a full recovery only an hour after getting medicine from a scruffy pirate, he has a right to be worried.” Before Buttercup could make a rebuttal, Boyle called to the little yellow filly from downstairs, asking for his usual glass of cider. Applebloom sighed, as she tucked her mother back into bed. “I’ll go tend to the Cap’n, you get back to sleep, okay?”

“Now you’re acting like my mother, hon,” Buttercup chuckled. The filly rolled her eyes, as she blew out the flame in her mother’s lamp and closed the door, heading downstairs, where the Captain looked to be on the verge of a meltdown.

“CIDER!! I NEED CIDER, APPLEBLOOM!! I’VE GOT THE HORRORS!!” he bellowed, his cutlass leaving his scabbard and cutting down a tankard that rested on one of the other tables. “CIDER ‘TILL I FLOAT!!”

“Alright, alright, Cap’n. Just one small one, though, okay?” Applebloom said, sitting Boyle back in his chair as he sheathed his sword.

“DON’T BE GIVING HIM ANYMORE CIDER!” a voice from above called down. Boyle’s favs etched in confusion, mirrored by Applebloom’s. Starlight Glimmer frightened him at times.

“How does she bloody do that?” he murmured, before he heard it. The tap-tap-tapping of a wooden stick coming up the road, followed by a wizened voice.

“Hello? Won’t somepony or somecreature assist a helpless blind mare?” Applebloom and Boyle looked to each other, before the little filly slowly approached the door, gulping. Slowly opening it with a creak, Applebloom took a look at the blind mare. She didn’t look...intimidating. Dressed in simple, dusty clothes, with a black hooded cloak over her head and shrouding her body, and with a thick purple cloth over her eyes. Her fur was white and Applebloom could see a bit of her spiked blue mane poking out of the hood. Clutched in her hoof was a gnarled, wooden cane. The mare’s head perked up from the sound of the creaking door, and she smiled. “Is somepony there?”

“M-My name is Applebloom,” the filly said, her voice quavering. The mare might not look intimidating on the surface, but after Black Crow, she’d learnt appearances could be deceiving. The blind mare chuckled kindly, bowing her head.

“My dear Applebloom, would you assist this poor blind mare, who lost her sight in the service of Princess Celestia, bless her soul, by telling her where exactly she is?” Applebloom cocked her head, slowly approaching the mare. Perhaps she truly did need help?

“You’re at the Admiral Benbow, Miss,” the filly said. The mare nodded, slowly moving close to Applebloom, with a tip-tap of her cane.

“The Admiral Benbow, is it? An Inn, if I’m not mistaken, my dear? Why, I can smell the sea from here. Truly, this is be a great port for a sea mare to dock at,” the blind mare said. As she finished, both the mare and Applebloom heard a rumbling come from the former’s stomach.

“Oh, you sound hungry, Miss. Come inside, we have plenty of food still left,” Applebloom said, closing the distance between her and the mare and gripping her foreleg. The blind mare cooed, as she gripped Applebloom tightly, perhaps a bit too tight for the filly, and was lead into the Inn.

Boyle’s breath left him as he glimpsed the blind mare that Applebloom lead in. The mare in question, began to chuckle. But not the kind, slightly wizened chuckle from outside. This chuckle was cold, sinister, and strong of voice. Applebloom looked from the Captain to the mare, who opened her mouth.

“Now then, Applebloom, dear. Fetch me no more than an apple and a serving of cider for me and me mate, Boyle,” the blind mare ordered, with a slight bark to her voice.

“Vinyl,” Boyle whispered. Vinyl cackled, bowing with more finesse than one would think a blind pony would have.

“Vinyl as ever was, Boyle! Ye needn’t worry, though. I’ll not be here for long. I’ve merely come t’ deliver something to me old shipmate.” Reaching into the folds of her cloak, Vinyl extracted a folded up piece of paper, and with her cane tapping on the stone floor of the Admiral Benbow, she approached the Captain slowly. “Hold out yer wing,” she growled. Boyle hesitated, as Applebloom finished pouring the two cups of cider. “NOW!” Vinyl roared. Boyle grimaced, holding out his wing, as Applebloom approached with a cup of cider and the apple. Vinyl grinned, placing the folded up paper into Boyle’s wing and closing it, before swiping the cider from Applebloom. Downing it in one shot, the blind mare cackled, as she took a bite from the apple.

“Now, it’s done. Good evening, Boyle. Dear Applebloom.” Then, with a tap-tap-tapping of her cane again, Vinyl walked out the door and away from the Inn. Applebloom rushed to close the door, as Boyle unfolded the paper with shaking feathers. To the untrained eye, it looked to be nothing. But to a pirate, to Boyle, it was the harbinger of death.

“The Black Spot!” The scream that came from the parrot echoed through the Inn and out to the cliffs and even beyond the sea. He’d been warned. Black Crow was the warning. Vinyl had come to deliver the sentence. They were coming.