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Buxacan Spicerunner

Page 18

by Goodwin, Warren;


  “Women, children and those who are afraid to take a chance at real freedom will be put ashore, close to a settled town. Here, in the Chains where you’ve got a reasonable chance of staying free. To those I say, Good luck. No one will be hurt. Obey my men.” Sako couldn’t think of anything else to say and climbed down.

  “Dason, have them brought over in small groups. You, me and Thard will vet them in my cabin. Women and children plus any husbands or fathers will transfer to the Sunrise. Kostek! Make sure they get as much food as they want before they are sent over.”

  “Yeah yeah.”

  “And see that those,” Sako indicated the sullen crew of the Tama, held separately by Olik. “Don’t get fed at all!”

  “They won’t.” Kostek left and Sako looked up.

  “Masthead!”

  Buck started; he’d been watching the slaves. “Yeah?”

  “See that you keep a good lookout.”

  “Yeah yeah, sir!” The sailor ostentatiously turned his eyes to the horizon.

  Satisfied, Sako turned back to the proceedings.

  What had caught Pall’s attention had his as well. At least five of the naked ex-slaves were women. Dirty and bruised, they were still an alluring sight. They could prove dangerous if his men vied too strenuously for their attention.

  Three sat together with their arms and legs tightly crossed. The fourth was a buxom redhead whose attempts at modesty were severely hindered by two squalling little girls.

  But it was the last one that got the most attention. She was tall, lean and blonde. She stood easily, hips tilted and arms at her sides. Instead of cringing and hiding, she boldly confronted onlookers with her eyes. Invariably, each man she made eye contact with looked away shame-faced.

  Afnir came out on deck of the Tama. His team had looted the crew area. As the others distributed blankets—covering the ladies first—Afnir crossed the rails bearing a small chest and a pair of books, which he delivered to Sako.

  One of the books was the ship’s log, the other contained the navigator’s charts and notes. The latter was well written and very detailed. The Clavvish coast was particularly well documented from Port Therma to Stafa. Sako retired to his cabin to study it.

  He became so engrossed that he didn’t even notice who brought him the bottle of wine and loaf of dark bread from the Tama’s stores, or Dason and Thard’s entrance.

  “Interesting reading, Captain?”

  Sako had to smile; Thard was all formality at sea. “Very. The navigator’s very skilled. His charts cover the entire coast, including some bays where they must have dealt directly with the natives for slaves. But I didn’t notice many Clavs out there.”

  “There’s about a dozen, I think,” said Dason. “And it’s past tense for the navigator—he was also the first mate. According to the Tamas, ‘that madman with the big sword did for him’. I wonder who he meant? But the rest are as you predicted; debtors and criminals from Taya, some from Agresia. That big breasted redhead with the two kids is from Encaster.”

  “I wonder how she ended on the block,” said Thard.

  “Cargo manifest says they had two hundred fifty ‘head’. One ninety-one still alive.”

  “Tirpa reported four more bodies in the hold.”

  “A hundred eighty-seven people,” said Sako.

  “Afnir’s outside with the first of them. The quicker we do this—”

  “Agreed. Send him in, Afnir.”

  Though tattered, the first man still managed to look intelligent and somewhat cultured. He glanced nervously around the cabin and its occupants.

  “I’m Sako Pizi. This is my first mate, Dason; my surgeon, Thard. I’m not real concerned with how you came to be a slave if you don’t want to talk about it. In fact, if you’d like to be put ashore, that’s all you need to tell me.”

  “My name is Gomeneg Wintet, sir. First I’d like to thank you for freeing me from that Stessaca’s hole. I’ve been thinking about your offer, and I’d like to join your crew.” He paused and took a deep breath. “But not as a pirate.” Sako just raised his eyebrows and looked to Dason.

  “As what then, Gomeneg?” the first mate asked.

  “I was the top graduate of Garundel’s School. Up until the Agresian Revolution, I was the head chef for Count Baggich. After the Revolution, I worked for a member of the High Council until a jealous competitor denounced me as loyal to the old regime.”

  “But you weren’t, of course. Didn’t miss that soft position in the Count’s castle?”

  Gomeneg bestowed an offended look on Dason. “Baggich was a scoundrel, sir!” He turned to Sako. “As for the old order, Captain…I simply don’t pay attention to who is in power. My world is fine meals and pastries; pots and pans, if you will. Politics do not matter to me, be they royal, revolutionary, Imperial or…piratical.”

  “Your ignorance has cost you, sir,’ Dason said regretfully. “Don’t you see? Everything comes down to politics. Last year the pampered employee of a count, last month cooking for a High Councilor, yesterday a slave. Today a sailor of enterprise? All due to politics.”

  “Not a pirate, sir. No offense.”

  “Yet you wish to join my Crew,” said Sako.

  “I’m not a fighting man, sir, nor a sailor. But the idea of being dumped in the screaming wilderness hardly appeals. I would cook for you.”

  “Those who wish to be put ashore will be dropped in Ressatta or Colada, near enough to a settled town to walk in easily, yet far enough that our ship won’t be seen by the residents,” Dason said. “Hardly the wilderness.”

  “Even so, who would use my services? I’ve not heard of much wealth there.”

  “You could open an inn—”

  “An innkeeper!” Gomeneg scoffed. “You’re not serious!”

  Sako’s lips went tight.

  “Careful,” Thard advised. “The captain’s parents are innkeepers.”

  “No disrespect intended, sir. It’s merely that I understand business as well as I understand politics. I would have been happy as a slave chef in some plantation owner’s manse, but fate has sent me to you. I trust there’s a kitchen aboard?”

  “Galley,” said Thard. “Aboard ship it’s called a galley.”

  “I see.” Gomeneg took another deep breath. “Am I hired, then?”

  “You are,” said Sako. “If you’re willing to stay on until death. If you wish to be released, you may only go to our secret homeport. Once you’ve been there and know where it is, you can never be free. You’re basically exchanging one form of slavery for another.”

  “But I will be compensated for my services, will I not?”

  “Absolutely. We can discuss your salary later.”

  “Then it’s not slavery. Thank you, sir! You won’t regret it.”

  Only a hundred eighty-six more people to talk to , Sako thought as his new cook left. “Next!”

  32

  Tama’s Cargo

  The interviews with the former slaves went quickly. Either they had no wish to join the Crew or they did. Some of the latter were even sailors. But some interviews went rather differently, and they stuck out in Sako’s mind. For instance, there were Stad and Sharkbite.

  They’d been pressed into the Imperial Navy, but had been convicted of causing a riot in a tavern several miles inland from Gateway. Sako thought the Empire would have been better served by re-pressing them, but they’d been sold at auction as criminals.

  “Yeah yeah, Captain,” Sharkbite said. “I’ll be joining your crew. Got no family left and nothing else to lose. I figure the world owes me a little silver, and I’m willing to take it.”

  Stad was aghast. “These two years we been friends…we’re parting ways here, mate!” He was about to spit, but thought better of it. “If I knew you was that kind—Ster and Stess didn’t make me for killin’ and thievin’ and rapin’!”

  “That’s enough.” Sako’s voice was deadly quiet. “I won’t force any man to join, that’s why youse were given a choice. By w
ay of gratitude for your freedom, you might consider not saying such things about me and my men in our hearing.”

  “Thank you for my freedom, sir.” White-faced, Stad turned and left.

  “He’s not a bad sort, Captain. Just a little holy now and then.”

  “What sort he is doesn’t matter; he’s off my ship and not my problem. Welcome aboard, Sharkbite.”

  Then there was Perndil Yellow, a cobbler of no mean skill who’d been driven into debt by deadbeat noble clients.

  “I’ve heard talk of a town,” Perndil said. He had thick gray hair and an even thicker moustache. “A town where there’s no taxes and a tradesman such as myself can make a fine living. A town where those in power don’t care for the nobility, and believe in paying their debts.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Town’s called Port Buxaca.” Perndil hesitated and swallowed. “Is it real?”

  The Smilers glanced at each other and let Sako answer. “It’s real. You wish transport?”

  “I can’t pay you for the passage, but I’ll have the finest boots I can make for you and your whole crew that rescued me the next time you come home.”

  “That’s nineteen pairs of boots,” said Dason. “Provided, of course that we all live so long.”

  “Nineteen pair…of the finest sandfish skin. They won’t shine, but they’ll be waterproof and won’t slip on wet wood, with soles thin enough to let you feel the deck and spars.”

  Thard perked up. Sandfish skin was expensive leather.

  “That’s very generous, Ster Yellow,” Sako said. “But I fear we’d be overcharging if we accepted.”

  Thard’s face fell but he kept his silence.

  “Plus we won’t be seeing our home port for quite some time,” Sako continued with a glance at his surgeon. “If you stay you’ll be sharing our dangers; why not join the Crew and share some of the profits as well? Seed money for your shop.”

  Perndil was already shaking his head. “Some men were made for roaming the seas and adventure. I was made for making shoes and boots. The boots I’m offering aren’t payment just for passage, sir. I feel my freedom’s worth new shoes for you and your men.”

  “All right Ster Yellow. We’ll take you with us as a paying passenger.”

  Next were ten healthy men in a row who would not join. The eleventh person wanted to join in the worst way.

  “Please, sir!” the boy begged with tears in his eyes. “I’ll be your cabin boy! I’ll be the best pirate ever! Please!”

  “How old are you?” Sako demanded, as Thard and Dason rolled their eyes at each other.

  “T-tuh-twelve, sir.” Sniffle. “Almost.”

  Sako sighed. “I’m sorry. You don’t have the option of joining. No one under sixteen, remember?”

  “But I’m strong! I can—”

  “Enough. You’re going ashore, I said!”

  The boy broke down into tears, and Dason had to physically escort him out. As they neared the door, the boy screamed, “I’ll remember you Sako Pizi! You’re my enemy!”

  “Stupid boy! I freed you from slavery and I won’t let you become a hunted criminal for the rest of your life—this makes me your enemy?” Sako laughed harshly. “Well, if you want to fight me, come find me after you’re old enough to shave!”

  Once there was silence in the cabin again, Sako realized he was tired of sitting in his chair. “How long have we been here?”

  “A little over two hours.”

  Sako winced. “How many are left?”

  Dason returned as Thard answered, “Twenty-three women, six children and—”

  “They’re not joining! See if they’ve got any complaints other than a desire for birthbane tea.”

  Thard nodded and stepped out.

  “There’s eighteen Clavs,” said Dason. “They’ve requested to be put ashore on the continent rather than on an island. Since it’s right there, Brog told them you’d do that.”

  “That’s fine. We can—”

  The tall blonde woman burst in, followed by an apologetic Thard. “I’m sorry Captain, but she insisted on speaking with you.”

  The woman was even more comely up close. Shoulder length blonde hair floated softly around a face that featured full lips, a pert nose, and a dusting of freckles. Angry blue eyes contrasted sharply with her black bruises.

  Definitely Clavvish, Sako thought. “What can I do for you, Stess?”

  In response, she whipped off the blanket and threw it to the deck. “This was the captain’s! I’ll never forget his smell. Two months I’ve worn nothing and your man gives me this blanket? I’d rather stay naked!” She put her hands on her hips and glared at Sako venomously. “Well? I’m tired of waiting. When does it start? Do you want me on my back on that bed or would you prefer to bend me over a barrel on deck so everyone can watch?”

  The Smilers admired her spirit while admiring her figure. She was lean and firm; standing erect and unbroken, like a forest goddess of western Clavland.

  Sako peeled his eyes away from her long enough to take a step to his bunk and opened the drawer beneath. Kacoma had kept cedar chips in there with his clothing, and Sako liked the smell. He fished out his only spare shirt and held it up in offering.

  “Perhaps my smell would be less offensive? This should be long enough…”

  Shocked, she accepted the shirt and slipped her arms into it. They watched almost regretfully as she closed the front and buttoned up. The front and rear tails reached mid-thigh and the sleeves were too long, but she was more modestly covered than she’d expected.

  As she absently rolled the cuffs, she took a deep breath and felt the soft cotton weave against her breasts and shoulders. It felt like silk after the coarse blanket. Her eyes filled and suddenly she was crying in Sako’s arms.

  “Let’s get both ships underway, course straight for the mainland,” he ordered over her head. “Afnir’s in charge of the Tama. Give him Brog and two more of ours, plus five of the new men and tell him to use the original crew as well. Make sure our sea virgins are paired with experienced hands. Women and children to stay aboard the Sunrise. We’re going to carry out Brog’s promise to his cousins.”

  “Yeah yeah.” Both men turned to go.

  “And leave my door open when you go; I’ll be out shortly.”

  When they were alone, the woman’s story poured out with her sobs. Her name was Freata.

  She was a music tutor and had taught the Earl of Gateway’s children for two years, and she’d had her own room in the servants’ quarters.

  One evening she’d been surprised by a knock on her door. It was the Earl, drunk and aroused. She’d refused him but his lady wife had seen him leaving her room. Cries of ‘whore’ and ‘temptress’ rang throughout the house, then all was quiet. Soon after, two of the Earl’s soldiers came for her. They took her to the Slavepens, where she was stripped, branded, given a coarse shift, and tossed in.

  In the morning she was sold along with a dozen other women. The captain of the Tama picked her for his personal woman for the voyage.

  “I bit his ear when he put his hands under my shift, so he dragged me out on deck and tied me over a barrel. Every sailor had me. I was still a virgin.”

  The words were flat, but Sako could feel her shoulders tense as she spoke them. None of the women had escaped abuse and some had died from the sailors’ attention. Others died from the confinement. As their number dwindled, the survivors were pulled up on deck more frequently.

  “Once they learned that Andrana had children aboard, she became more of a favorite,” Freata said. “She was required to do what none dared force on me. She’s a debtor—her husband was lost at sea.” She stepped away. “I’m sorry; I’ve just been holding it so long…what will you do with the sailors from that ship?”

  “They will be dealt with.”

  “They’re joining your crew!” she accused.

  “I won’t have them.” Sako could only think of Tara. “The shirt is yours. I’ll try and get you some trousers. You may stay he
re until you’ve regained your composure if you’d like. There’s bread and wine there, on the table.” Sako left the cabin.

  An hour later, both ships were anchored in two fathoms by the Clavvish coast. The Clavs were ferried ashore and disappeared into the trees. Sako tried to give them some food, but they would take nothing. The leader spoke to Brog.

  “He says thank you for freeing us, may you always have a good harvest and strong children.”

  Sako returned the sentiment through Brog and they were gone. The two ships set sail for Colada, the northernmost of the Chains.

  Word spread quickly on how the women had been treated aboard the slaverunner. Sako told Dason what he wanted to do first, but soon all of the old hands knew and approved.

  Freata and Andrana recovered faster than the other women, though Sako’s men treated all deferentially. Freata simply would not allow herself to be defeated and Andrana had more important things to think of.

  Her girls were playing with the other children quietly on deck amidships, except for Sako’s enemy, who stared out to sea. He was the only boy and had no interest in girls’ games. The women were dressed in whatever clothing could be spared or made, and kept to themselves. Andrana stood alone amidships.

  Someone had given her a pair of breeches that hugged every curve and ended at her knees. Andrana wore one of Finve’s vests, but only the bottom two buttons could be fastened. She had run twine through the upper buttonholes to keep it from flapping open. The result was far more eye-catching than anything worn in Jonos.

  Sako found himself spending quite a bit of time with her. She had bright green eyes and good, even teeth. She always had a smile for him.

  “The way you’re standing is very distracting to my men.”

  Andrana was looking out to sea. She’d rested her forearms on the rail, but had kept one knee straight. Not used to seeing women in breeches, the men could not resist ogling the turn of her hip and curve of her bottom.

 

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