Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns

by Ben White

  The barkeep shrugged. "Can't say I have."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Name doesn't ring a bell. What does he look like?"

  "I ... I'm not sure, he'd be about sixty now, I guess, so really old, and he has a hideous black scar on his chest ... are you sure you've never heard of him? He's a legendary pirate, you know. He sailed these waters some ... sometime recently."

  The barkeep shrugged again. "Sorry I can't help," he said.

  Miya left the pub confused and disappointed, although with her determination unwavering.

  "That barkeep must be new to the area," she said to Sola. "Or maybe he's just really unobservant. Let's try another pub, I'm sure there must be another one somewhere near."

  After visiting two more pubs, a tavern and a café, all with much the same result, Miya's determination, although unwavering, was beginning to be outweighed by her impatience and frustration.

  "Why hasn't anyone heard of him? Do these people have no interest in the world around them? Not to have even heard the name, I don't get it, he's a legend! A pirate legend! There are dozens of stories about him, don't these people even read?"

  "Miya, there is a bookshop across the street."

  "I'm surprised it's still open, with the lack of literary knowledge on display around here! It must be the quietest bookshop in the Necessary Ocean!"

  "Miya."

  Miya turned to look at her brother, her scowl fading as she noticed the hopeful look on his face.

  "Oh. Oh, right. Well, I guess I can handle asking about my grandfather on my own. You go off and play, and let's meet back here in about an hour."

  "Perhaps longer?" said Sola.

  "Well ... all right, I guess you deserve a break. Let's just meet back here once the sun starts going down, that should give you a few decent hours. Oh, here, take this, too."

  Miya took out her purple coin purse, fished a couple of coins from it, then handed the purse to Sola.

  "If they look like they're going to kick you out, just buy something. Books are usually pretty expensive, but there should be enough in there to get one or two."

  Sola hesitated, the purse in his hand.

  "Are you sure?" he asked.

  "Think of it like, I don't know, a thank you present for coming along with me and helping out. Have fun," said Miya, smiling.

  Sola nodded, then almost ran across the street to the bookshop. Miya watched him duck under the low door frame and enter, then resumed walking, soon spotting another pub.

  "The Talkative Parrot! Now THAT'S a likely-sounding name!"

  Miya ran up the street, sword bouncing against her leg.

  This did not go unnoticed.

  *

  It was around an hour before sunset, and Miya Black was tired, angry, and confused.

  She was tired because she'd been walking all over the town of New Haven for hours, asking at every pub, tavern, bar, café, restaurant and, as she began to run out of the more traditional information-gathering locations, grocer, butcher and fishmonger she could find, with absolutely no luck whatsoever. The closest she'd come to any sign of her grandfather was when the fishmonger had said, "Heartless Jon? Yes, of course I—oh, no, wait, that was Legless Jon. Sorry."

  She was angry and confused because he was supposed to be a pirate legend, damn it! That he hadn't been here, that she could accept. But that no one had even heard of him? Deep within Miya's heart, in a place she didn't even like to admit existed, there was the tiniest whisper of doubt. It said, "What if he isn't the legend you thought he was? What if Necessary Tales is exactly that—just a bunch of made-up stories with no basis in reality at all? What if the reason your father didn't want you to go off chasing your grandparents was because he knew?".

  "No," Miya said to herself, as she walked along. "That's no way to think at all. Dad wouldn't lie to me like that, not about this. There must be another reason. There must be. Whoops."

  She'd said 'whoops' because she hadn't been paying attention as she walked and talked to herself, and had accidentally walked down a wide alleyway with a dead end. She turned and started walking back, smiling at herself for getting so distracted.

  Then her smile disappeared.

  "Hello, Pancake."

  At the entrance to the alleyway stood a dozen pirates, all carrying weapons. In front of them stood Grace Morgon. Despite her fatigue, Miya's sword was in her hand in an instant.

  "So quick to rely on force!" said Grace. She drew her own sword, a bright, elegant cutlass. "Although in this situation, that reaction may be rather appropriate. Futile, but appropriate."

  "Why are you here?" Miya said, glancing around the alley. The buildings surrounding it were two-storey with flat white plaster walls, with no convenient low roofs to climb onto.

  "It's a free ocean, last I checked," said Grace. "What's it to you where I choose to travel?"

  If she had time, Miya felt she'd probably be able to hoist herself onto a nearby window ledge and from there possibly further up—but not before Grace's crew could grab her legs and pull her down.

  "You followed me," said Miya, looking away from the ledge and focusing on Grace. Her eyes narrowed. "How did you get here so quickly?"

  "Well, you know, while SOME people are too cowardly to brave a tiny little storm, others see it simply as a test of their seamanship," said Grace. "To be honest, Pancake—"

  "Don't call me that," growled Miya.

  "Oh, what? Pancake? Anne and Margaret told me how much you loved the little nickname they thought up for you, I was just trying to put you at your ease. I couldn't quite decide how they'd come up with it, though—is it because of your flat little face, or because of your flat little—"

  "Duel," hissed Miya. "Here and now. Duel."

  Grace looked at Miya for a long moment. "I don't think so," she said, finally. "And it's not that I think you could beat me, because, really, you couldn't. It's more a matter of time. You see, we really must be heading back to that quaint little archipelago of yours very soon, we've wasted quite enough time chasing you here. My father has a schedule to keep and we're already a little behind. I must admit, that ridiculous-looking ship of yours is fast. Perfect for a coward like you—someone who'd rather run than fight."

  "I'm not running now," Miya growled.

  "Only because there's nowhere to run to," laughed Grace. "You know, while we were following you here I kept wondering to myself, what is this girl doing? Where is she going? At first I thought you must be running away, like the scared little girl you are, but then I heard something very interesting."

  Miya glared at Grace and the pirates behind her, trying to figure out some kind of order of attack that might give her a fighting chance.

  "I heard that you were searching for a man," said Grace. "Heartless Jon? Jonny Black Heart? Jonathan Black?"

  Miya tensed.

  "Really, Miya, you are SUCH a child! As if a story could save your pathetic little island."

  "My grandfather is NOT just a story," said Miya.

  "Your grandfather," said Grace, smiling. "So the name isn't just a coincidence."

  Rats, thought Miya.

  "So let me get your, let's face it, pathetic little story straight," said Grace, happily. "You hear about my father's noble attempts to unite those insignificant little islands. Your response to this is not to stay and fight, but rather to run away in some delusional attempt to find your imaginary grandfather, who's supposed to be some kind of pirate legend? You poor little Pancake. What is in your head?"

  "He's not imaginary," said Miya, her voice low and dangerous. "He exists. And once I find him—"

  "Oh come now, Miya, give it up. Even if this so-called 'Heartless Jon Black' did once exist, I'm sure he's long dead by now."

  Suddenly a tall, dark figure dropped down between Miya and Grace, a cutlass in each hand.

  "Ye might be surprised, girl."

  12

  Perhaps The Past

  I wish, Miya thought, that there was some way to capture
the expression on a person's face.

  Unfortunately, Grace recovered quickly.

  "You'll have to do better than that, Pancake." Grace turned her head, addressing her crew. "It's just an old man and a little girl. Take them."

  Grace's crew didn't move, except to glance at one another, unsure.

  "What are you afraid of? It's not really him!" said Grace, not a trace of uncertainty in her voice. "It's some sort of trick, a decrepit old man she's hired to pretend to be her grandfather, Heartless Jon is just a legend."

  "Funny how legends work, ain't it?" said the dark figure. He glanced back at Miya and winked. "Hold this, darlin'," he said, tossing one of his cutlasses to Miya, who managed to catch it with her off hand (which was good, because if she hadn't she would have died of shame). He turned back to Grace and her crew and, with his hand now free, took hold of the front of his shirt and tore it open to reveal a large, jagged, black scar on his chest.

  "Now," said Heartless Jon, advancing slowly on the crew, grinning a terrible grin. "Start running."

  Miya just barely managed to stop herself from cheering wildly as Grace's crew broke and ran, leaving Grace standing alone.

  "COWARDS! GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT!" she screamed after them. She turned to glare at Heartless Jon, who shrugged.

  "Smart lads," he said.

  "Superstitious idiots," said Grace. She raised her cutlass, then froze as high-pitched whistles sounded nearby.

  "Port guard," said Heartless Jon. "Convenient, eh?"

  Grace shot Miya a venomous look, then turned and ran.

  "Shouldn't we be running too?" asked Miya, after a moment.

  "From what? Ourselves?"

  Heartless Jon turned to look at Miya. A black patch covered his left eye but the right was a deep hazel, just like her father's, bright and alert. His nose was large and hooked, and he had a stubbly white beard. His clothing was completely black, from the black boots on his feet to the black bandanna covering his head.

  "F-from the port guard," said Miya. Heartless Jon grinned.

  "Heh. Here, give us a hand, love, knackered me bloody knee jumping down from that roof."

  He held out his arm and Miya took it, a little confused. Together they walked to the alley entrance, the whistles getting closer. When a couple of port guards came running around a corner, Heartless Jon gave them a little wave then pointed in the direction Grace and her crew had run off in. Miya watched, still not quite sure what was going on, as the port guards ran off down the street.

  "So anyways," said Heartless Jon, turning to look down at Miya, "I heard ye was looking for me."

  *

  Miya burst into the bookshop, looking around wildly.

  "Sola! Sola I found him! I found my grandfather! Well technically he found me but he's here he's just outside gosh it's dark in here Sola move so I can see you!"

  Sola looked up from the book he'd been reading.

  "Pardon?" he said.

  "Heartless Jon! I found him! He found me! He's just outside!"

  "One moment, please," said Sola. He walked over to the shopkeeper, who'd been watching their exchange with an expression of mild amusement on his face, and took out Miya's purse.

  "Are you SERIOUSLY going to pay for your book when the ENTIRE PURPOSE OF OUR ADVENTURE is RIGHT OUTSIDE?"

  "I can't leave without paying for it," said Sola. "That would be illegal and rude. Thank you," he said to the shopkeeper, as he accepted his change.

  "Come ON!"

  Miya dragged Sola outside, then looked up and down the street.

  Heartless Jon was nowhere to be seen.

  "What? No! He was here! He was just here! Grace and her goons cornered me in an alleyway and then he was just THERE and her goons ran and then Grace ran and then the port guard ignored us, and then we came over here and he said he'd wait! He said he'd wait, Sola!"

  "Aye, I just can't resist a good gag."

  Heartless Jon stepped forward from behind a wooden support, grinning. Miya stared at him, shocked into silence (a state of being for her that was almost without precedent).

  "You must be my grandson," said Heartless Jon to Sola. "Rainbow islander, eh? Na'alofa'an?"

  "Tonfa-Tonfa'an," said Sola. Heartless Jon nodded.

  "Had a few island lads on my crew over the years. Damned decent sailors if ye've the patience to teach 'em the ropes. Bloody good navigators for some reason."

  "J-Jon ... I mean, Heartless Jon ... I mean ... well ... Grandad, I guess—"

  "Yeah? Spit it out, lass."

  Miya looked up at her grandfather, caught somewhere between relief and outrage. The emotion she was most comfortable with won through.

  "How dare you let me think you'd run away!" she said. "That was an incredibly mean trick to pull—do you have any idea what I've gone through to find you? How long I've been searching? Why are you grinning at me like that?"

  "Ye just remind me o' someone. Here, come on back to me shack—actually, hang on a sec. Oi, you lad!"

  Jon called out to a port guardsman, who jogged over to them.

  "Sir?"

  "Need ye to keep an eye on a ship for me. What's her name, lass?"

  "My ship? The Black Swan," said Miya. Heartless Jon raised an eyebrow.

  "Good name," he said. He turned back to the guardsman. "Ye heard the girl, lad. The Black Swan. Make sure nothin' happens to her. Here, wait up a moment," he said, as the guardsman went to leave. "Any word on that other thing?"

  "Haven't heard, sir, but I don't think we got any of them."

  "Ah well. Bit of exercise'll do 'em good, sure'n they'll be thankful for the excitement. Off ye go, lad."

  The guardsman left. Miya looked up at her grandfather, suspicion in her eyes.

  "You haven't become some sort of watchman, have you?"

  "Hah! That'd be the day. Nah, just respected in these parts, ye know how it is. Come on. Me shack is up this way."

  *

  Heartless Jon had remained silent on the way to his 'shack', which turned out to be a large, rather beautiful wooden house overlooking the ocean. It was partially hidden, low on a hill with trees above, and the path leading down to it was inconspicuous enough that if you didn't know it was there you wouldn't notice it without searching the area very carefully.

  "Take a load off," said Heartless Jon as they entered, pulling his bandanna off and revealing his bald head beneath, before kicking his boots into a corner. "Excuse the mess."

  Every available surface inside the house had some trinket or valuable or weapon upon it, and every spare bit of wall space was taken up with a chart or painting or more weapons, or else stuffed fish, ship's wheels, lengths of rope or other items one might expect a legendary pirate to accumulate over the course of a lifetime. Several somewhat rickety-looking bookcases leaned against one wall, almost overflowing with books and map cases, and chests were stacked everywhere.

  "It's like the biggest greatest pirate ship in the world exploded in here!" Miya exclaimed, looking from one thing to another with bright eyes. She noticed that quite a few of the paintings were of a tall, stern-looking woman with long, dark red hair.

  "Is this my grandmother?" she asked, pointing. Heartless Jon grumbled and waved his hand dismissively.

  "Drink?" he asked. "Rum, bumboo?"

  "I'm fourteen," said Miya.

  "Aye?"

  "So I don't drink," she said.

  "Aye?"

  "And Sola doesn't either. His people don't believe in it."

  "Funny thing not to believe in," said Jon. He poured himself a large glass of rum. "Here it be, no faith required. Ye sure? Well, suit yerselves. Take a seat anyway, if'n ye can find a place."

  In fact there were a couple of old, overstuffed couches in the centre of the room. Jon let himself down into one, grunting.

  "Oof, me blasted knee," he growled, holding it as he sat. He took a quick quaff of rum. "Don't get old, lass, it's a right bugger."

  Miya sat opposite her grandfather, gazing at him with shining eyes
and a wide smile on her face.

  "What are ye lookin' at me like that for?"

  "I just can't believe I found you!" she said. "Well, I mean, I can believe it, I knew I would, but now that I have it's just, y'know, wow!"

  "Wow, right," grumbled Jon. "Are ye sitting down, lad?" he said, looking over at Sola, who had gravitated instantly to the bookshelves.

  "He'll be fine, he's just got kind of a thing for books," said Miya.

  "Ah? Me too. Bloody brilliant things. I didn't learn to read until I were past thirty, I tells ye I were kicking meself once I found out how useful it is. But I don't suppose ye came looking for me to discuss literature, am I right?"

  Miya nodded.

  "Put yer head up there, let me get a good look at ye. Eye ain't what it was," Heartless Jon said, leaning forward. He reached out and took hold of Miya's chin, turned her head this way and that as he examined her.

  "Ye've yer grandmother's jaw," he said, with a chuckle. "Good defiant jaw, I'd call that. Somethin' of her eyes, too. Got the Black family ears though, bless ye. What happened here?" he asked, tapping at her hair where it had singed.

  "We caught the edge of a fireshot broadside," said Miya. "My hair got a little burnt while I was putting out the rigging fires."

  "Oh, aye," said Jon, leaning back suddenly, as if he'd just remembered something. He sat and looked at Miya for several long moments.

  "So," he finally said. "Ye're the squirt that fool son of mine's so proud of."

  "What do you mean, 'fool son'? Dad's not—"

  "Ah, don't correct me," said Jon. "I know what I mean. Tell me, what makes ye so special?"

  "Huh? What do you mean?"

  "How many ports have ye sacked?"

  "What? None!"

  "How many ships have ye captured?"

  "I-I've snuck aboard one—"

  "How many men have ye killed?"

  "None, of course! I would never!"

  "Oh, aye? What about yer friend back in the alleyway, she didn't seem the type to shy from a fight. What if it were ye or her?"

  "I, I don't know, I'd figure something out, disarm her—"

  "Can't disarm her. She's too quick."