by Ben White
Sola held up his hand. "I understand," he said.
"Anything that I—that Clover Island can do ... that is ..." Tomas straightened. "Tonfa-Tonfa has the full support of Clover Island, and myself personally," he said.
"And of me," Miya added.
Sola nodded. "Thank you."
"Are you tired?" Miya asked. "Do you want to sit down or lie down? There's a cot in my cabin."
Sola thought a moment, then nodded again. "Please."
"It's this way. Make yourself at home!" said Miya, showing Sola to her cabin and opening the door for him. Sola nodded once more, then entered Miya's cabin, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. Miya closed the door behind him, then turned to her father. He was on the stern deck, leaning on the back rail and gazing out to sea. Miya chewed on her lip for a moment, then approached him.
"Dad?"
"Miya."
"Are you okay?"
"Not really."
"Is—"
"It's okay. I'm just thinking."
"What are you thinking?"
Tomas just shook his head. Miya looked at him for a moment, worried, then turned away.
"I'll get us back to port," she said.
What Tomas was mostly thinking was this: "Pirates. Here. Pirates, of all things."
What Miya was mostly thinking was this: "Pirates! Here! Pirates! Of all things!"
*
It was several hours later. Miya and Sola sat together in one of her house's lounges—the nice lounge—while their father broke the news to Lily.
"Would you like a biscuit?" Miya asked.
"No. Thank you," said Sola.
There was a silence for a few moments.
"Another cup of tea?"
Sola looked at the cup on the table in front of him, barely touched.
"No, thank you."
"No," said Miya. She looked at the door. "Um. I don't have any other brothers or sisters. Do you?"
"No."
"Oh."
Another slightly uncomfortable silence.
"Dad's taking a long time. I hope everything's okay."
"Yes." Sola thought for a moment. "I have several cousins. And many aunts and uncles. And a grandmother."
"Oh, really? That sounds nice ... it's just Mum and Dad and me here, pretty much. Well, I call Lars 'Uncle Lars' sometimes but he's not really my uncle, just Dad's old friend. I guess it's not quite the same."
"I don't know," said Sola.
"So apart from your aunts and uncles and cousins and grandmother, it's just you and your mum?"
Sola was silent for a moment before replying. "My mother died last year."
Miya spluttered on the sip of tea she was taking.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I didn't ... I didn't realise at all."
"It was shortly before she died that she told me who my father was."
"Before that you didn't know?" Miya asked. Sola shook his head.
"I knew he was not from my village. That is all."
"Wow."
"Yes."
There was another silence, this one somehow not so uncomfortable. Miya sipped at her tea. Sola stared at his. Miya began to say something then closed her mouth as she heard movement in the hallway outside. She and Sola looked at the door as her father entered. He looked tired.
"Hi kids," he said.
"Hi Dad," said Miya, as Sola inclined his head towards their father. "Uh, how's Mum?"
"She's ..." Tomas grinned. "She is a queen."
"She's okay?"
"Well ... once she understood the situation. Once I was able to tell her that Sola is seventeen now, and after she did a little simple mathematics. That part of things ... let's be honest, it's strange. I'm sure not least of all to you, Sola."
Sola nodded.
"But ... well ... how to put this ..." Tomas frowned as he tried to find the right words.
"The fact that I am your son is a personal matter," Sola said. "And the situation concerning Badger Pete is of more general importance, at this juncture."
"Well ... yes," said Tomas. He grinned at Sola. "Exactly."
"So are we going after him? Like right now?" asked Miya. She put her cup of tea down and stood up. "I'm ready. Let's go."
"I like your enthusiasm, Miya," said Tomas, "but this really isn't something that—"
"What! Are you kidding? I'm the princess of this island, my brother's people have been enslaved, there's a rogue pirate out there doing goodness knows what and you're standing there saying that this isn't something that concerns me?"
"No," said Tomas patiently, "what I was going to say was that this isn't something that you can just jump into. That's 'you' generally, not 'you' personally, just to be clear. Although to be even more clear, yes, it DOES apply to you personally as well. JDJ, Coconut. What I mean is that we can't just go rushing off without finding more information—how big Pete's gang is, where they're based, who would support us if we did decide to go after him—"
"We don't need support! You and me, Dad, let's take this sea rat down!"
Tomas laughed. "You're certainly my daughter, aren't you?"
"You're darn right I am!"
"But aside from anything—ah."
Lily stood at the entrance to the room. She looked at Sola and smiled.
"Hello, Sola. I'm Lily," she said.
"Hello," Sola replied, standing. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"And my absolute pleasure to meet you. I only wish it were in better circumstances."
Sola bowed a little, then hesitated.
"You can sit down again," Miya whispered. Sola did so, turning to smile and nod his thanks to her.
"Miya," Lily said. "Your party—"
"Doesn't matter. It really doesn't. It can be postponed. It's not important. I don't mind, honestly."
"Well," said Lily. "Well, how noble. Thank you, Miya."
Miya curtsied primly, privately thinking that perhaps her mother could have protested just a little more.
"Although," said Lily, "I don't believe we need to cancel everything."
Postpone, thought Miya, not cancel!
"I think we should still have the lunch. The food is being prepared in any case, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. However, the formal dance ... and the duelling contest," said Lily, her expression softening at the look of dismay on her daughter's face. "I know, sweetie, but—"
"It's fine," said Miya, her voice a little tight. "We'll have the lunch. Everyone will be there anyway, that's the important thing."
"And of course your presents," said Tomas. "Also very, very important."
"Of course," said Miya, forcing brightness into her voice.
"It's your birthday?" Sola asked.
"Yes."
"How old are you today?"
"Fourteen," said Miya. She felt a little flat.
"An adult, then," Sola said. "Perhaps not such good timing."
"What do you mean by that?" Tomas asked. Sola looked up at him.
"When it is a time of war, there are some who say it's better to be a boy than a man—or better to be a girl than a woman."
"Ah, yes, perhaps so," said Tomas.
"However, on this island we do not consider fourteen to be an adult," said Lily, just a little curtly.
"Also ... I think predicting war at this point may be a little ... premature," said Tomas.
Sola shook his head sadly.
"I hope so," he said.
*
Lunch had been a great success, with almost everyone in town and a number of people from elsewhere on the island attending, Blackport's town square filled with people and tables loaded with food—dainty sandwiches with the crusts cut off alongside great roasted pigs on spits, fresh fruit served on elegant plates alongside massive vats of custard. Miya had received a number of presents—mostly clothes, but also a tiny wooden horseshoe charm from Penny that she'd carved herself, and from the people of the island a fine new compass in a hard leather case. But now was
the time for her family to give her their presents—traditionally the part of her birthday that Miya loved the most, although recent events had dulled her enthusiasm more than a little.
"I would like to raise a toast," said Tomas, addressing the crowd and raising his glass. He looked down at his daughter, seated to his left, then at Sola beside her, and then around to Lilith, who was to his right. He looked back up at the crowd. "To my daughter, Princess Miya Black, fourteen years old today!"
"To Princess Miya!" the crowd replied, raising their glasses. Miya raised her own in response, rolling her eyes slightly and grinning a little grin. Tomas smiled at her, then looked at his wife. "Would you like to go first?" he asked.
Miya and her mother stood, Miya feeling very uncomfortable—receiving her presents each year had been a favourite tradition of hers, and it had always before seemed right to do it in front of the people of the island. Now, though, it felt oddly wrong, like they were putting on a show just to delay telling them about Badger Pete and the fate of Sola's village. Nevertheless, Miya put on a bright expression and smiled as her mother brought out a large, flat box.
"I know you're not one for this kind of thing," Lilith said, "but a mother always has hope. May I?"
Miya nodded, and watched as her mother opened the box and produced her present. A conflicted sequence of thoughts flashed through her mind as she looked at it.
First: Oh my goodness that's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen in all my life.
Second: Wait a minute, I hate dresses!
Third: But the colour and the cut and the way it kind of shimmers and oh my goodness the COLOUR!
Fourth: I can never wear that in public. I have a reputation to uphold: Miya Black, Hater of Dresses. I will never wear that in public.
Fifth: Unless it looks really, really good on me.
Sixth: Wait, Sola's village! Badger Pete! This is no time to be getting conflicted about dresses! No matter how gorgeous they are!
Seventh: But the COLOUR!
Eighth: Oh, the crowd. Smile! Look pleased! Be a princess!
Miya smiled at her mother and hugged her. "Thank you, Mum. I ... I don't entirely hate it?"
Lily smiled at her daughter and returned the hug, then Queen Lilith carefully folded the dress and put it back in the box.
"Next, your father has something for you," she said, stepping back as Tomas stepped forward.
"I didn't wrap it," he said, smiling at his daughter. "It didn't seem right, somehow. Well, anyway ... happy birthday, Miya."
He paused a moment, then undid his sword belt and handed it to his daughter. "I hope you never have to use it, but if you do ... well, it's served me well over the years. Especially in my younger days. I think you're just tall enough for it now, so ... wear it proudly, Miya."
Miya stared at her father, then shook her head. "I ... I can't, it's your sword. Your sword."
"Your sword now. Don't worry, I have others. And you ... well, you know."
Miya nodded, her eyes bright. She hugged her father tightly, then took the belt from him. She wasn't wearing her own sword belt, this being a formal occasion and thus more of a 'princess' than a 'pirate' event, so she buckled it on then and there.
"It's, um, a little big," she said, laughing. It just fit her on the tightest loop, a long length of belt poking through the buckle. Despite this it felt right, the weight at her side reassuring. She drew the sword to show it off—it was, as her father never missed an opportunity to point out, a royal Amician straight sabre, slightly old-fashioned and plain but in excellent condition, the blade straight and untarnished, its edge fine and sharp. The sword's grip was black sharkskin, and the guard was narrow and elegantly curved. On the front of this guard was the sword's only decoration; a small engraving of a three-leaf clover.
"I think Uncle Lars is next," said Tomas, as Miya gazed at the sword. "Lars?"
"Yes," said Lars, walking to the Black family table and standing before Miya as she somewhat reluctantly sheathed her sword. "I asked to myself, what is the princess going to do when her grip fails her and she is left without weapon? And so I answered to myself, make sure she has another weapon. It's a knife. A bloody sharp one, too."
"Language," said Miya, smiling as she accepted the gift. She pulled the knife from the sheath and inspected it, testing it lightly with her thumb. "Wow, it is sharp."
"Perhaps you could use it to trim that belt a little," said Lars. Miya shook her head.
"I already got used to it," she said. "I kind of like it, even. Thank you for the present, Uncle Lars."
Lars grinned and gave Miya a short, slightly awkward hug, then shuffled away from the family table and back to his seat.
"I can't say I entirely approve, Lars. At least the sword has some decorative value," said Queen Lilith, drawing some laughter. "Well, perhaps we could present our joint present now. Tomas?"
"Yes. Miya, this is from your mother and I."
Miya took the long black leather case from her parents and opened it, her eyes widening as she looked inside.
"A spyglass?" she said, taking it out. "It's beautiful."
It was made of black leather and polished brass, the lens clear and sparkling in the afternoon light. Miya extended it carefully, put it to her eye, and gasped.
"It's so clear! How far away am I seeing? It seems like miles!"
Her mother and father exchanged looks, both smiling. "We thought you'd like it," said Tomas. "It's a new type, much more effective than the ones we're all stuck using."
"It's amazing, I can see so far—this'll be great when I'm out on the Swan, thanks Mum, Dad," Miya said, lowering the spyglass and embracing them.
"Well," said Lilith. "I think that's all the presents—"
"If I could?"
All eyes turned to Sola as he stood and spoke.
"I would ... if it would not cause offence, I would also like to give my ... to give Miya a gift," he said.
"Of course," said Queen Lilith. "Go ahead, Sola."
Sola bowed to the crowd a little awkwardly, then turned to Miya.
"It's something of my home," he said, then he knelt, slapped his chest, and held his hand out, palm up, upon it a small shell, about an inch long, coloured a shimmering blue and green.
"Oh, pretty," said Miya, then she remembered herself. "Thank you for the gift, Sola," she said, taking the shell. She noticed it had a small hole at one end.
"For a necklace or bracelet," explained Sola.
"Thank you," said Miya. "I ... thank you."
"This seems as good a time as any to explain Sola's presence here," said Queen Lilith. Miya sat down. She'd almost forgotten about the reason for Sola being there, but her mother's words brought her back to reality. "You know that Sola is a guest of our island, but the reason he came here is, unfortunately, not pleasant. Ten days ago Sola's village was destroyed by a vile pirate who calls himself Badger Pete. As far as we know, the rest of his tribe has been enslaved."
There were murmurs and raised voices in the crowd, which Queen Lilith silenced by raising her hand.
"We have pledged our support to Tonfa-Tonfa. We have a duty to our neighbours, I think you will agree." Queen Lilith looked at Sola, then back at the crowd. "However. The safety of Clover Island must come first. We do not know what Badger Pete's intentions are, but rest assured that our home will be protected."
Miya looked sharply up at her mother. "Mum," she said, her voice low.
"We have not yet decided how we will respond to Badger Pete's attack. But Clover Island will never go unprotected. We will help our neighbours. But not at the cost of our own safety."
As Queen Lilith continued talking Miya looked to her father, who shook his head just slightly, his expression one of forced calm. Although at times Miya found her father difficult to read, this time she had no trouble at all.
He was furious.
*
"—bigger than one island, Lilith, and the longer we let this go on—"
"We have a responsi
bility to our people, above all else—"
"Our responsibility here is to help those who need it. For goodness sake, we've got the only decent-sized navy in the archipelago, most of these islands have never even considered defence against the sea, this part of the world wasn't touched by the war—"
"But we were. We know—"
"Exactly! So how—"
"I will do what is necessary to protect this island and the people upon it."
"But these people ... they need our help, Lee. Who else will, if we don't?"
"And who will help us, if we need it? Who is there to come to our rescue, should our navy be destroyed?"
Miya couldn't stand to hear any more. Blinking back tears, she crept away from the door to her parent's bedroom and went quietly downstairs, out the back door, into the night. The moon shone full and bright above, lighting her way as she walked through her mother's vegetable garden and her father's flower garden. She walked to the cliff that overlooked Blackport and looked down, at the quiet, pretty little town that had been there her whole life, that had grown alongside her. When she was born there were barely a hundred people living on Clover Island, now there were over a thousand. It had become a symbol, of sorts, in its short existence. Clover Island was a place for second chances, for fresh starts, where your past was your own, to share as you saw fit. Where you could see the results of your own hard work, and live freely so long as you did no harm to others. The people of the island were kind and generous, open to new ideas and new people. Miya sniffed, trying to imagine what it would be like to lose the island, to lose the town below, the people she'd grown up with and lived with.
"I'd do anything," she said to herself, her voice quiet but fierce. "I'd do anything to stop that. I'd fight anyone. I'd sail anywhere. I'd ... I'd attend any ball."
Miya looked up at the moon.
"What do I do?" she asked. "What on earth can I do?"
A small sound suddenly caught Miya's attention, and she drew her sword—her new sword, her father's sword. She looked around, searching the darkness, scanning the shadows cast by moonlight, looking for anything out of place.