Excerpt
from Pirates in Hell – Unholiest
Grail by Larry
Atchley, Jr.
Over the threshold and into
the shop strode a man with wavy shoulder-length brown hair and a
mustache turned up at the ends with styling wax. He wore a tailored
blue frock coat, tan trousers neatly pressed. He waded through
ankle-deep standing water in black leather knee-high boots. “Welcome
to Hellish Curiosities and Clothiers,” LaVey said. “Can I
interest you in anything in particular?”
“Hell-o to you as well, my
damned man,” the patron said in an oratorical voice. “My name is
Sir Henry Morgan. I have heard it said that your shop is the place
where the rarest items of special interest may be found.”
“So true. So true.”
Purring, LaVey stroked his black goatee. Finally, a viable customer.
“We specialize in unobtanium. What, precisely, are you looking for,
dear sir?”
“A product. A very special
product,” said Morgan. “I’ve heard rumors that a cup exists, a
special cup — a cup which, when filled with alcoholic libations or
possibly any liquid, allows the drinker to actually become
inebriated. As I’m sure you can imagine, such an item would be very
much in demand.”
“Your reputation does
precede you, Sir. And your predilection for strong drink is well
known.” LaVey said. “Do you know that, after your death topside,
an entire rum distillery company was named after you?”
“Heh, oh yes.” Morgan
grinned. “But they got my image all wrong on the labels. I’ve
never worn anything so gaudy as that outfit they portray.”
“If such a cup were in my
possession,” LaVey responded, “its purchase price would be quite
dear. Only a select few of the damned would be able to afford such an
item.”
“Naturally.” Morgan
shrugged. “I have considerable resources at my disposal. What would
you charge for such a wondrous unholy relic . . . If you possessed
it, that is.”
“If an unholy grail such as
you describe actually exists,” LaVey said carefully, “surely His
Satanic Majesty would never allow a mere sinner to possess it. His
rules forbid the pleasure of drunkenness to the damned, as you surely
know. To own such an item would mean risking the wrath of all the
lords of the latter-day hells.”
Morgan drew close to LaVey and
said archly, “Mister LaVey, let’s end this charade, shall we?
Everyone knows you deal in certain items of supposedly mystical, or
even reputedly mythical, powers. Scuttlebutt has it that most of what
you sell is counterfeit rubbish, that—”
“Rubbish!” LaVey
interrupted. “I’ve never been so insulted in all my—”
“Wait! Let me finish,”
Morgan ordered. “However, some souls whisper that not everything
you sell is a sham. A certain spear comes to mind.”
“Now see here, my good sir!
That whole business about a certain spear got me into a great deal of
trouble with His Satanic Majesty. I’d really rather not discuss the
topic further.”
“As you wish.” Morgan
licked his lips. “I shall merely point out that if someone in New
Hell knows where to find this unholy grail, you
are that someone. You claim to run the only place where such items
can be found. ‘Unobtanium’ you call it. It would be in your best
interest to actually have this item, the fabled ‘real deal’.
You’d be discreet about it, of course, so as not to rouse the
suspicions of the Devil’s Children. So naturally you couldn’t
advertise that you possess such a cup. Thus my question to you
remains: Do you in fact have it? And, if you do, what would it cost
me to buy it? Alternatively, if you don’t now have it, could you
get it upon for a qualified buyer? Name your price, and I will gladly
pay it.”
LaVey pensively rubbed his
Mephistophelian goatee, thinking what riches might be his, could he
find so important a relic for this inveterate privateer, once
lieutenant governor of Jamaica, whence he’d raided settlements far
and wide with such single-minded rapacity that he secured a license
to attack and seize Spanish vessels for the English Crown. “If I’m
going to risk His Satanic Majesty’s ire, my price will be
substantial.”
“A soul could name his own
price for an item that can make this hellish existence less vexing.”
Morgan grimaced. “Only from great risk comes great reward.”
“Yes, great indeed,” LaVey
said. But where in hell could it be, this grail which Morgan so
desired that he’d buy it rather than steal it? Returning from the
storeroom to the selling floor with a crystal sphere in her fingers,
Madam Blavatsky caught LaVey’s attention, casting furtive glances
toward the back room. “Excuse me, Captain Morgan,” said LaVey and
followed her into the back, which smelled disconcertingly of mildew.
Once out of Morgan’s sight,
Blavatsky sucked on the corners of her toothless mouth and whispered,
“For ‘great reward’, we may be able to assist him. This grail
has shown itself to me.”
LaVey lit up like a cannon
fuse. “You know where it is? Why haven’t you mentioned anything
about this before,” LaVey demanded of the infuriating,
self-proclaimed mystagogue and leading proponent of Theosophy.
“Because no one has asked
about it until now,” she replied. “Why must I have as my
assistant the greatest idiot savant of the modern age?”
“I’ve only now seen a
vision of it while you and the customer were bantering about its
price,” Blavatsky said, giving him a nasty sidelong glare.
La Vey took Madam Blavatsky’s
arm, and the two nonchalantly made their way to where Morgan stood,
staring through the storefront window, holding a pair of brass Carl
Zeiss Jena binoculars close to squinting eyes. “I don’t have it
right now, but we know where the cup may be found,” LaVey said to
Morgan. “One million diablos is my finder’s fee,” LaVey said.
“Whoa ho!” Morgan
exclaimed. “You’ve the soul of a buccaneer. A princely sum
indeed. Very well, Mister LaVey, you shall have your price—if
and when
you produce the cup. The real grail, the goblet of my desire, of
course, and not some simulacrum.”
“Of course, Sir Henry.”
LaVey rubbed his hands together, sensually anticipating the feel of
all those diablos under his sweating palms. “To deliver, I must
mount an expedition. Would you like to join us?”
“Join you? On an expedition?
I’ll lead any expedition my diablos fund. First I must needs muster
a crew—reavers who’ll take my orders, not yours. Even in hell, he
who has the gold makes the rules.” Morgan chuckled at his own
levity.
Questions/Answers
– Larry Atchley, Jr.
What
is something unique/quirky about you?
I
perform with a group called Seadog Slam, in which myself and the
other members dress in pirate garb and recite our original pirate and
adventure poetry at various events.
Tell
something about yourself, and how you became an author.
I
started writing stories and poetry when I was around 13 years old.
I’ve always had a vivid imagination, and entertained myself most of
the time, either reading, writing, or spending time in nature,
hiking, bicycling, or in boats on lakes. I started thinking about
trying to publish some of my work during my early 20s, but nothing
came of it at the time.
It wasn’t until my late 30s that I got more
serious about wanting to be a published author. I attended some
writing workshops to try to hone my skills and see if my writing
might have a chance of being publishable. My goal was to have a short
story published before I turned 40.
In the Fall of 2010, when I had
just turned 39, I happened to start corresponding with author and
editor Janet Morris online, through commenting on her posts regarding
her latest novel The
Sacred Band, which
she had written with her husband Chris Morris. I had been a big fan
of her Sacred Band of Stepsons characters from the Thieves’ World
shared world anthology series and the spin-off novels about them that
Janet wrote.
When she found out I was a writer of many years, though
unpublished, she told me that she and Chris were going to bring back
the Heroes in Hell
shared universe series, with the first book being an anthology of
short stories by several authors, and they were looking for more
writers to submit stories, and asked if I would write and submit a
story for consideration in the first book titled Lawyers
in Hell. She
accepted my story, my first-ever to be published, when the book was
released in the Summer of 2011, just about 3 months before my 40th
birthday.
Who
is your hero, and why?
My
Dad, Larry Atchley Sr. is my hero. He has always been there for me
when I needed him most, and he has always been a wonderful, loving
father. He has done a lot to help various members of our extended
family as well.
What
inspired you to write Unholiest
Grail?
When
I found out that there was going to be a Pirates
in Hell volume, I
knew I had to write a story for it. As I mentioned before, I am in a
pirate performance group, so Pirates and their history and stories
are something I have always been interested in. I knew right away
that I would choose Henry Morgan for my main pirate character, and my
story would deal with his legendary appetite for alcohol.
In Hell,
the damned cannot get drunk, and it would really chafe Morgan not to
be able to get inebriated, so I came up with the idea of a magical
chalice that would allow the damned to get drunk. Morgan would want
to find it before anyone else. I also felt that having had my own
share of trouble with alcohol on and off throughout my life that I
could lend some personal perspective to the story and that might
serve as a cathartic exercise.
Tell
us why your story is a must read.
Well
it has action, adventure, pirates, Vikings, the founder of the Church
of Satan, and a surprise twist ending. If that’s not enough to make
it extremely interesting, then I don’t know what is.
What
is your advice to new authors?
Keep
writing and improving your craft. Read a lot, and in a wide range of
subjects, but get to know the genre or subject you want to write for
especially well. It’s never too late and you’re never too old to
become published. Don’t listen to your inner demon critics, and
don’t let anyone cause you to feel like you aren’t good enough to
write and be published.
