The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales

by Robert E. Howard

  “Stupid halfbreed,” said the captain, advancing toward her with both hands once more upon the hilt of his greatsword. “Your paltry magic has no effect upon a skilled nereus!”

  Vekki quailed; but if she fled, her mother died or fell into the horrors of rape and slavery. So, as the captain drew close enough to strike, she flung herself upon him. And though the seventeen-year-old was slow with her muscular, fat-sleek body that was ill adapted to land, she was not so slow as the nereus, who looked two decades older.

  Though he was larger and more muscular, the captain staggered at the impact of Vekki’s body against his. Then he shouted with surprise and pain as her toenails dug into his belly and her fingernails sank into his throat. Her action had put her far too close to cut or stab with his greatsword; so he raised it up in his hands and smashed her with the pommel.

  Vekki grunted as agony flared across her back like the fire of the sun-god’s chariot; but the blow served only to drive her claws more deeply, and to make her limbs jerk spasmodically. The captain howled at the worsening pain; and Vekki felt the movements of his torso muscles and knew that he was readying another pommel-blow. She tightened her fingers on his throat and, like a cat, dragged her feet down his belly; and she put all her strength into piercing his layered fat and muscle.

  Blood washed hot over her feet and hands, and the captain toppled heavily backwards. The impact jarred through Vekki’s body, knocking her breath from her lungs and her nails from his flesh. But she scrambled to her feet and leaped back, red fingers raised against a renewal of the captain’s attack.

  He lay thrashing upon the deck, with no interest in her any more. All his attention was for his throat, which she had ripped open, and his belly, which she had disemboweled.

  “Good work, daughter,” came a stranger’s voice, a man’s, low and dark as ocean depths. “The half-nereus is finished.”

  “Perreo!” cried Vekki’s mother, her voice half-strangled.

  Vekki wheeled, her back arching as her battle-fury turned upon the newcomer who crouched on the rail of the caravel.

  “He’s finished no thanks to you, who abandoned his lover and babe almost before the babe was conceived,” she spat like a cat.

  “Your words are fair,” said her father, who was looking upon her with an intent and curious regard. “Yet they are not truth. May I come aboard?”

  Surprised that he would ask, Vekki nodded; and the nereus, Perreo, stepped down onto the deck. He was taller and broader than any land-man, and very handsome yet very strange, with the long bright blueness of his hair, the sea-blue hue of his skin, and the gills to either side of his neck. He was naked save for a breechclout of some scaled hide and a sharkskin belt and knife-sheath; and his ornaments were of gold and nacre and pearls. In one hand he held a trident of some hard-looking white substance that was not metal, and upon his brow he wore a simple gold circlet.

  “Not truth?” Vekki said to her father. “What excuse have you, then, for abandoning lover and babe?”

  “That I could not return, for my younger brother usurped my throne and bound me in fell enchantment,” Perreo replied. “I have but recently won free, and ere I could claim my woman and child, I had to reclaim the throne of the Northern Ocean. Once I had slain my brother, I made haste for the shore with my men, to seek for you and your mother. Then I felt your thoughts, and knew you were my daughter.”

  He looked over the rail, and gestured; and nerei appeared at the rail, man after man of them, tall and muscular, clawed and webbed, bearing tridents.

  Alarmed at the sight of them, Vekki cried, “They do not have permission to come aboard!”

  Vekki’s father never addressed nor looked at his nerei--he was looking instead upon Vekki’s mother, as intensely as she looked upon him--yet the warriors did not come over the rail. Had Perreo made some gesture of command that Vekki had missed?

  Perreo looked upon his daughter. “Will you let my warriors take this caravel to your village, and return the captives home?”

  “And have the Imperial war-ship patrolling our waters see the caravel in our cove and kill us all for pirates? No, nereus, you will leave the caravel and pirates at sea for the war-ship to find,” Vekki said. “Your warriors may come aboard this ship, but only to free my mother and the other villagers, so we may take to the boats and take ourselves to shore.”

  “Of course,” said Perreo, graciously. Then wonder came into his face. “I did not dare to hope you survived, daughter. I did not dare to hope you would be so fine and beautiful and brave.”

  At his words, a warm feeling sprang up in Vekki, a sensation she had known before only when her mother spoke kindly to her; it was a feeling she had never known what to do with. So she spoke roughly to her father: “Get your men aboard, so they may free the villagers.”

  Vekki’s father said nothing; but his web-footed warriors spread quietly across the deck, moving to the bound villagers and drawing single-edged white knives from sharkskin sheaths. Carefully, the nerei severed the ropes on wrists and ankles, freeing the captives more easily, Vekki thought, than if the curious white substance that formed their knives were steel.

  Our knives and tridents are made of porcelain, a sort of ceramic, and forged by magic to be sharper than steel, and stronger. Sometimes they snap, but they are stout weapons, and have made the nerei lords of the deep.

  Vekki stared at Perreo, horror warring with shock. “I heard your voice only in my head!” she exclaimed. Can you read my mind? she silently asked.

  A nereus can sometimes sense strong thoughts in another who is near, he answered. But the mind-speech is something else, that all sea peoples have, for speaking aloud does not work underwater. Daughter, will you share with me your name?

  Vekki, she told him at last, warily.

  Thank you, he replied. Vekki, I would ask a favor of you.

  Vekki regarded her father narrowly, and said, “What is it?”

  “I would go to your mother’s side,” he said aloud, his vivid blue eyes turning to Vekki’s mother.

  And seeing the longing on her mother’s face, Vekki lowered her gaze and gestured with an open hand; and her father surged to her mother’s side. He cut her bonds with his knife. Then it fell to the deck, sticking upright in the wood, as he swept his long-lost lover up in his arms; and they embraced with such joy that Vekki, looking to them, looked away again, knowing that this was a moment for them alone.

  Her father’s warriors moved across the deck, freeing all the captives, and using the severed ropes to bind the pirates’ wrists and ankles. The villagers rubbed the circulation back into their hands, and stamped their feet, all the while looking warily upon the nerei. In turn, the nerei moved back from the villagers, gathering in the center of the deck so that none might interpose himself between the villagers and the ship’s boats that hung at the rails. The villagers took the weapons from the bound pirates, and such ornaments and gems and coin-pouches as the pirates had. Then, murmuring among themselves, the villagers went to the boats, and began lowering them to the sea.

  They did not look upon Vekki or her mother, or the sea-king. They did not call to Vekki or her mother to join them.

  The sea-king spoke into Vekki’s head. Your mother has agreed to come away with me, to my kingdom, and see if she would care to stay. For, though the King of the Northern Ocean may not wed a land-woman nor name their child as heir, his land-woman may live in honor and splendor--

  “If she does not drown!” Vekki exclaimed furiously.

  There are spells and amulets that will let her breathe in the water, Perreo answered, regarding Vekki gravely. And my kingdom has islands. If she chooses, your mother may dwell in a castle above the sea. And, if you choose, Vekki, you may live with her in air or under sea.

  “What if I choose not to let you take her away, sea-man?” Vekki demanded.

  “You have no say in this,” said her mother softly. “Only I can decide if I will stay with your father, or no. But you can come with us, and see whet
her you would prefer to live in your father’s kingdom, or your mother’s village.” Her eyes grew damp, looking upon Vekki. “Come with us, daughter, please.”

  You have these in your blood, Vekki, said Perreo, stroking his fingertips along one side of his throat, tracking the curve of the gills there. Vekki’s mother glanced at him, and Vekki wondered if she heard his mind-speech, as well. Because you are half nereus, they are in your blood, and so I may grow them in your neck by magic, if you choose.

  Would you make of me an even greater freak? Vekki demanded, so pained by the idea that she could not speak it aloud.

  No, daughter, said the sea-king, a strange look suffusing his face. I sought only to make you more comfortable in the sea. And if you decided you did not like the gills, I would seal them away again.

  And can you make me wholly a land-girl? Vekki demanded.

  No, he said, with an unexpected sadness to his mind-tone. I wish to make you happy. I would do anything I could for you. But I cannot take away all that is nereus in you. I cannot eradicate half your body and soul.

  Vekki looked upon him and upon her mother, who seemed so happy by his side. Here, suddenly, Vekki had everything she had wanted: her father with them, her mother happy, her father wanting them both. And she had more than she had dared imagine: he was a king, offering them a far better place in the world than they had in the village, the shunned peasant harlot and her ugly, inhuman bastard.

  Perreo’s brow darkened, and Vekki realized he had sensed her thought. I should kill anyone who scorned my woman or my daughter, or made either of you think you are less than whole and beautiful and perfect.

  “But you will not kill them,” Vekki heard herself saying with surprise. “You will not kill them, if you would have any chance of your daughter visiting your kingdom.”

  The anger did not leave Perreo’s face; but he inclined his head. “As you will, Vekki. I will not harm the villagers, so long as they do no further harm to you or your mother.”

  Vekki stared at her father. She had not thought of the villagers’ treatment of her and her mother as harm. She was bastard; her mother was unwed, the abandoned leman of a sea-man, who slept with village men in trade for food and clothes, that her daughter might survive. Of course the villagers had behaved as they had.

  Yet they should not have, Vekki had always thought. Though she had not thought the villagers harmed her or her mother, she had ached for them to behave toward her mother and herself as they behaved toward each other.

  And her father expected that she and her mother should be treated well, and would enforce that treatment with death?

  Vekki could hardly speak for the feeling in her, that had grown so warm. Joy, she realized. It is joy.

  “Father,” Vekki said, “I will go with you and Mother to see your kingdom.”