“What? But … but …” Miya’s eyes filled with tears. “But he’s not just a king! He’s a famous pirate! And my grandfather really is Heartless Jon!”
“Of course he is, darling,” said the trader, as Miya sniffed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Now I said before we don’t want to hurt ye and that’s true. We’ll take real good care of ye, wouldn’t want your father to get all vengeful and such, right? Just want a nice clean transaction, cash for daughter.”
Miya looked at the men surrounding her, the two thugs behind her, knives in hand, the trader in front of her leaning almost casually on a water barrel. She sniffed again.
“You … you don’t want to hurt me?”
“Nah, we ain’t that way.”
“Good,” said Miya, as she turned and swung her leg hard, driving a booted foot up between one of the thug’s legs. She plucked the knife from his hand as he doubled over then spun to slash up at the second thug, opening a shallow gouge in his nose. Blood splattered over her as she turned to face the trader, who hadn’t moved, shocked into inaction.
“How’s this for playing pirates,” she said, driving the knife down hard into his hand and pinning him to the barrel. He screamed in pain as Miya turned and ran, burst out of the shop and onto the street, straight into a group of drunken men.
“Oh, entertainment’s here!” slurred the one she’d landed on. “Girls falling outta the sky into me lap! They don’t call me Lucky John for nothing! Come here, love, give us a wee kiss.”
Miya punched the drunk in the nose and leapt to her feet, stumbling in the first few steps as she ran down the road then finding her stride, short legs working hard. She turned to glance behind as she heard a shout, saw the trader staggering into the street, clutching his wounded hand.
“FIVE SILVER FOR THE MAN BRINGS ME THAT GIRL!” he yelled. Miya didn’t have to look around to know what kind of interest that sort of offer would bring, just focused on running hard, as hard as she could, ducking and dodging through the crowds. She leapt over a drunkard and turned sideways to avoid another, one hand on her sword as she ran, keeping the scabbard from bumping against her legs or tripping her, ready to draw in a moment if she needed to fight. She could hear the pursuit behind her but didn’t dare turn her head to see how close they were; the streets were too packed to take her attention off what was directly ahead of her. Several times she almost tripped over a drunk she hadn’t noticed, or nearly ran into someone suddenly walking in front of her. Unsure where the docks were, she turned corners randomly, trusting her instincts to take her where she had to go. As she darted down an alleyway she heard a shout from a window high above—
“You run, girl! Run like the wind! Dunno who’s chasing you but you must have done some right mischief! Good on ya, girl!”
Miya grinned, pushed against the ground harder, turned another corner and looked up to see the long bright torches of the docks ahead. She leapt down onto the pier and dashed along it, realising after a few seconds that this wasn’t the pier her ship was on; she’d come out of the town too far over. She skidded to a stop and was about to run back when she heard shouts and saw a couple of remarkably large men jump down onto the docks. Miya looked around and saw a pile of crates, squeezed through a gap between two stacks and crouched there, panting for a moment before she forced her breathing under control, trying to keep as quiet as possible. The shouts of pursuit became the shouts of searching—she heard a clear “She’s on the docks somewhere” and hunkered down further.
“You getting a good cut from Jacobs?”
“Nah. Greasy bugger’s too damn greedy by half.”
There were a couple of men talking, near to where Miya was hiding. She couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“Yeah, that’s the word I’ve been hearing. Hardly worth doing, for what he pays. You doing all right on the other thing though?”
“Other thing’s good.”
“You’ve been through Outlook, right? Easy port?”
“Dead easy, no questions, no nosy watchmen, and the man doesn’t care what happens so long as you pay your ‘tax’.”
“High?”
“Higher than some, worth it though.”
Smugglers! thought Miya. They must be talking about smuggling through Outlook Island! And ‘the man’, that’s Governor Henry! I NEVER liked him, big ugly sneering creep! Oh my goodness, Dad’ll love this. He’ll be so impressed when I tell him. But, Miya suddenly thought, he’d be MORE impressed if I could tell him how I actually STOPPED some smuggling! These crates must be their cargo—gosh, I hope they’re not planning on loading up any time soon. Well, anyway, what could I do? Alert the local authority! Wait … I don’t think there IS a local authority here. Does Dad know how bad this place is? I mean, yes, it’s a dirty exciting pirate port, but still. If he did know then he should have told me. He just always said it’s where a lot of ships from outside the archipelago came. Talk about understatement! Anyway, back to the smugglers. I could … I could toss these crates into the ocean! No, wait, crates usually float … they’d just pull them out again. All that would do is annoy them slightly.
No, Miya decided, remembering her main mission, the best thing I can do is get to my grandfather as quickly as possible. Don’t get sidetracked! Then after we sort out Badger Pete maybe we can deal to these smugglers.
With that thought in mind, Miya stood up and squeezed out through the crates, heading back to her ship.
“THERE SHE IS!”
Oh yeah, I was hiding, Miya thought, looking towards the direction of the shout and seeing half a dozen thugs and the trader running towards her. She turned and ran up the pier, the sound of pursuit behind her, shouts and harsh laughter and boots against wood.
“Oops,” said Miya, as she ran out of pier, looking around for some way out, a ship to jump onto or something, but there wasn’t anything around except a single empty crate.
“Slippery little devil, ain’t ya?” said the trader, as he and his thugs advanced on Miya, trapping her at the end of the pier. They laughed as she drew her sword.
“Put that thing away, girl. I’ll give ye credit for craftiness with that little crying routine back there, but I’ve got five stout lads and one stout ladette with me here, ye can’t fight off all of us. Luck and surprise were on yer side last time, here and now it’s math so basic Lug ‘ere could do it.”
Miya glanced back, at the dark ocean behind her.
“Ooh, wouldn’t think of doing that, Princess,” said the trader. “You’re a fresh wee fish so you probably don’t know, water ’round here’s lousy with needle lamprey. Ugly little buggers. About yay long,” he said, holding his hands up, around a foot apart. “Be dozens under the pier here, hundreds maybe. Get the slightest whiff of blood—for example, that red stuff ye’ve got splattered all over yer pretty wee face—and they go crazy. Sometimes there ain’t even bones left once they’re done.”
“You’re bluffing,” said Miya. “I’ve never heard of needle lamprey.”
“Oh?” The trader raised the hand Miya had stabbed through, hastily bandaged but still dripping with blood, then flicked it towards the water. A few red drops hit the surface, and then suddenly the water was a mass of small, slippery, glistening black eels. Miya’s eyes widened at the sight. She’d never liked eels, not even the generally benign river eels on Clover Island.
“I don’t often bluff,” said the trader. “So believe me when I say ye’ve got me dander up something fierce. Come along now, and nice and quiet-like, or I’m gonna make meself a liar and do something bad to ye.”
Miya looked at the trader, then raised her wrist to her mouth and blew, hard. The shrill, piercing sound this produced was shockingly loud, startling the trader and his thugs for a moment—but only a moment.
“Heh. Trying to scare us?” said the trader. “Some kind of royal whistle, was that? Summon the guards to save ye? You’re a long way from home, Princess. No palace guards to hear that wee cry for help, loud as it was. We know you’re all alone, you said as much yourself. So come on, make this easy for all of us.”
Miya stood her ground, her sword held at the ready, her stance unwavering.
“C’mon, Princess—”
“I’m not just a princess,” said Miya, trying to make her voice strong. “I told you before. My father is Black Boots. My grandfather is Heartless Jon and my grandmother is Scarlet Jean Black. I’m more pirate than any of you … you thugs.”
They laughed, but Miya stood firm.
“You think this blade is just for show?” she said. “I’ve practiced fighting every day since I could hold a sword. Do you want to know the name of my sparring partner?”
“G’wan and tell us, suppose you’re gonna say it’s ol’ Three Blades Roger? Or Scar Gillian, she was a good’un.”
“Keep guessing,” said Miya.
“Enough games,” snarled the trader, “just go—”
“Lars Bako,” said Miya, loudly. The thugs, who had been preparing to move forward, hesitated.
“I’ve heard that name,” said one.
“Knives Bako! Ye know Hookless? Knives be the one took his hands,” said another.
“Nah … she just heard his name somewhere, she’s bluffing, she don’t really know ‘im,” said a third.
“He favours his right hand,” said Miya. “But that’s a feint, of a sort. He often says that there is no such thing as an ‘off hand’, consequently he can fight equally well with either hand.”
She tossed her sword from her right hand to her left as the thugs watched, then smiled.
“As can I.”
Miya paced to the left, one foot after the other, her balance perfect, her stance impeccable.
“He’s strong,” she said, as she paced, “and he’s quick, but his real strength is in his flexibility … he can adapt to any attack, any technique, exploit any weakness.”
“She’s bluffing, grab her, just go grab her!” the trader yelled. The thugs didn’t move, continued to watch Miya as she stopped, paused a moment, then started pacing right.
“But you want to know the really interesting thing about Lars Bako?”
Miya stopped pacing, stood still in the centre of the pier.
“I can beat him,” she said.
“It’s a lie, she’s a lying little priss, JUST GO GRAB HER!”
“You go grab her,” muttered one of the thugs.
“Yeah, you grab her if you think she’s bluffing.”
Miya stood firm, although actually her arm was starting to get just a little tired from holding her sword so straight and steady for so long.
“Yes, come and get me,” she said. “Test your steel against mine. After all, I’m just one girl.”
“Hardly fair, me being a wounded man and all,” said the trader, his voice mocking, holding his bandaged hand up. Miya stared at him a long moment, then slowly put her right hand behind her back.
“Go on, Scrapper,” said one of the thugs. “She’s giving you a fighting chance.”
The other thugs laughed at this, the trader—Scrapper—scowling around at them.
“Yes, come on, Scrapper,” said Miya.
“You shut your mouth,” Scrapper growled at her. “And you lot,” addressing the thugs, “what am I paying you for? Not to stand scared of a wee girl like this with a clever mouth.”
“Clever arm, too, you can see she’s quick, way she changed hands.”
“Quick enough to take down seven armed men afore they can get her?”
“Hey,” said one of the thugs.
“All right, all right, six armed men and one armed woman? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t think so either,” said Miya. Scrapper eyed her a moment, his expression both wary and weary.
“I probably couldn’t take down all seven of you alone,” Miya continued. “But you need me alive to get that ransom, and I’d take down two … maybe three of you before you could disarm me. My partner, who’s standing behind you right now, would take care of the rest.”
Scrapper eyed her a moment, then he laughed, the thugs joining in.
“Nah. Sorry, sweetheart. You had us all going there for a bit, spun a pretty little tale, but you pushed it too far. See, a lie’ll only stretch so far before it snaps, ye get to know that kind of thing in the business I’m in. And that old ‘me partner’s standing just behind ye’ gag’s older than dirt. So put down that sword, Princess, it’s far too big for you anyhow. In the end, ye’re just a girl alone, waving a sword around like you know how to use it. C’mon lads—ladette. Rush her. Seven of us oughta be able to take one lying little girl.”
“Five of you, you mean,” said Miya.
“Count again, love.”
“Maybe I’m not the one that needs to be counting.”
Scrapper turned just in time to see the butt of Sola’s spear precisely catch one of the thugs in the side of the neck, joining the two already downed in this fashion.
“YARR!” Miya yelled, as she leapt forward and slashed at the sword hand of the nearest thug, making her cry out in pain and drop her cutlass. Spinning, Miya drove the hilt of her sword into the nose of another thug with a deep crunch, catching his sword as it dropped from his hand and then kicking him in the groin as hard as she could. She turned and neatly kicked the first thug under her chin, making her mouth snap shut with a loud and somewhat disturbing ‘click’ and sending her staggering backwards, then stood hard on the hand of the second thug as he tried to get up. Miya glanced back at the first thug, who was nursing her jaw and didn’t seem in any condition to continue fighting, then turned to gaze levelly at Scrapper, both swords pointed at him.
“Two,” she said. “Maybe three.”
Scrapper stared at Miya for a moment, then he turned and fled, Sola stepping aside to let him pass. Miya dropped her ‘borrowed’ sword onto the thug she’d taken it from, then stepped over him and the other downed thugs to join her brother. She looked up at him as he looked down at her.
Then they both turned and ran.
“Well,” said Miya, as they sailed away from Biscuit Cove as quickly as they could. “That was a pleasant little stop.”
“Was it?” Sola asked, his tone holding a note of irritation.
“I was being sarcastic,” said Miya.
“Perhaps you weren’t,” said Sola. “Do you enjoy creating these situations?”
“What? I didn’t create that situation! I was trying to buy food, I didn’t ask for the guy to try to kidnap me!”
“But you did somehow reveal that you are a princess and thus worth kidnapping and ransoming,” said Sola.
Miya tugged on a rope, scowling.
“Well, at least I didn’t just hide on the ship,” she snapped, angrily letting out a side sail. “I mean, maybe if you’d come with me—”
“If I had come with you I think the ship would have been stolen,” said Sola. “That was not a good place.”
Miya shivered a little.
“No,” she said quietly, the anger gone from her voice. “It definitely wasn’t.”
“I’m glad you’re safe. When I heard the shell, I feared the worst.”
“Um, thanks. For coming, I mean.”
“Thank you for being safe,” said Sola.
“Aww, you really care about me!”
“I was more thinking that I couldn’t sail this ship without you.”
Miya cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Was that a joke? Are you funny now?”
“Desperate situations can sometimes bring out hidden qualities in people,” said Sola, smiling. Miya couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well, I really am grateful that you’re with me,” she said. “Aside from anything, sailing this ship on my own can get kind of tiring—you know, leaping around the mast getting the sails sorted out while jumping down to adjust the wheel every minute, it gets old pretty fast. Plus, wow, you’re kind of deadly with that spear of yours, right? I didn’t get to watch you take out that guy you were fighting, the one you didn’t just smack in the neck I mean, but he looked pretty bruised after you were finished.”
“I didn’t enjoy that,” said Sola.
“Why not? I had a great time!” said Miya. “Aside from the whole nearly-getting-kidnapped thing. Did you see me smash that guy in the face then catch his sword when he dropped it? That was pretty cool, even if I say so myself. And, heh, the look on that trader’s face when I had him at sword’s point, I think he might have had an accident.”
Sola shook his head and turned away.
“What? So I’m not allowed to have a little brag after a good fight? We did really well, Sola! You and me, we’re a great team!”
“We hurt some people because they would have hurt you if we hadn’t,” said Sola. “Don’t make it romantic.”
“I’m not being romantic, what’s romantic about beating up a bunch of dirty goons?”
“Nothing,” said Sola. “We did what we had to.”
“But—”
“Don’t make it more than it was,” he said, his voice hard. “We fought for survival against a group of relatively unskilled thugs. I am very thankful that we were not forced to do more than that.”
“Sola—”
“And I do not wish to talk any further about it.”
Miya looked at Sola, confused. She started to say something, then closed her mouth, focusing on the rigging.
“We’re nearly out of the cove,” she said, after a minute. “Do you have our next course plotted?”
“Not yet. We sail due east for now.”
“Okay. Um, can I take the wheel for a bit? I’ve trimmed the sails as good as they’ll get, they can’t get any more trimmed.”
Sola stepped away from the wheel and went and leaned on the rear railing, looking up at the night sky. Miya chewed her lip a bit as she looked at him, then she took the wheel.
“One good thing came out of it at least,” she said, after a couple of minutes. “I found out some information about the smuggling that’s been going on around here. Dad’ll be happy to hear that. Once we get back, I mean.”
Sola was silent. Miya glanced back at him, then looked forward again.
“Well, I thought catching that guy’s sword was cool,” she muttered to herself. “Spin-smash-grab, hah!”
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