Chronicles of the Dragon Pirate

by David Talon

  “To be sure...but what is not common knowledge is that these natives have been secretly meeting with Shadowmen.”

  Dark muttering swept the crew as Captain Hawkins said, “This is a serious charge. What proof do you have?”

  “The word of the headman himself,” Brother Tristan answered. “Unnatural creatures of the air have been seen by him and by others whose word I trust. They have flown from a weather beaten galleon anchored far off shore, whose crew have never been seen on the island, in shape a woman with claws for feet like the harpy from Greek mythology.” At once I thought of the merged Dragon Victoria as the monk went on. “Since then the natives have grown confident, and a fortnight ago demanded each of the villages along the shore provide a male slave no older than thirty for the headman of Big Bluff, a native Dragon who is not only their shaman but their leader as well. So far the other villages have refused, but...”

  “I see where this leads,” Captain Hawkins said, interrupting. He folded his arms across his chest. “But why should we give up our prisoner for their sake? Out of the kindness of our hearts?”

  “Because they’ve got wooden cannons,” Mr. Smith replied from his spot next to the other Africans, “all ready to be transmuted. Several months ago a merchant ship was attacked by an undermanned sloop of Shadowmen and successfully fought them off, leaving only a few survivors...including a journeyman wood-worker with his tools.”

  “Have you spoken to this wood-worker?”

  “I have,” Mr. Smith replied. “He’s deathly afraid of Shadowmen now, and will build us whatever weapons we want in exchange for passage. I asked him about joining the ship’s company, and he said while he’d never willingly join a pirate crew, if we pressed him into service he would do as we asked.”

  Captain Hawkins gave him a sardonic smile. “So if the Davy’s ever captured he won’t hang with the rest of us. I take it Isaac wants to play both sides: treat with the natives while preparing for war.” Mr. Smith nodded and the captain said, “How many cannon and what condition?”

  “Ten total, each solidly built from a hollowed out tree trunk instead of being several pieces needing to be fused together during the transmutation.”

  “They must be short,” Master Le’Vass remarked.

  “Short but accurate,” Mr. Smith replied. “They’ve been made with better care than any piece I’ve seen in a while. I asked him why he hadn’t been made master yet, and he replied ‘guild politics’, which seemed to me an honest answer.”

  From across the other side the tall Frenchman Claude spoke up. “Politics have been ze bane of many of us, oui? But if I may, I would like to see these cannon for myself.”

  “I was going to ask you,” Mr. Smith replied. “The deal Isaac proposed is this: we transmute the cannon and keep whatever five we want, while Haven keeps the rest.” He glanced at the captain. “I don’t know what he’ll offer for the prisoner, but I’m guessing I can wring a lot more provisions out of him than he’s provided thus far.”

  “Bide a moment,” Captain Hawkins said. “I agree this is tempting, but transmuting ten cannons will leave Jade drained, so if we are attacked all we will have to rely on are the young ones.”

  “Not completely drained,” Jade’s voice said from beside me. “I know how to transmute in a way that conserves my strength, and I believe I will still have enough of Tomas’s strength left to create an air-golem, should one be required. However, the young ones will have to be the ones to transmute any additional weapons, as well as the frozen quickfire needed.”

  “Then, gentlemen,” Mr. Smith said as he looked between the captain and the quartermaster, “are we agreed to give Terence to the headman in exchange for additional provisions?”

  Before anyone could respond, Terence threw himself to his knees in front of Mr. Smith. “Please, sir, this is all a great misunderstanding. Don’t send me to die among the heathens, I beg you, sir.”

  Mr. Smith looked down on Terence in contempt. “All this time aboard and you’ve yet to learn how to address me?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, I didn’t think...”

  Mr. Smith kicked him hard in the belly. Terence gasped and doubled over as Mr. Smith folded his massive arms over his tattooed chest. “No, thinking doesn’t seem to be something you’re very good at. But if you want to survive, you’d better start.”

  Mr. Smith looked at Master Le’Vass, who nodded, and then at the captain, who said, “I don’t want his blood defiling my sword. Let the headman give him to the natives of Big Bluff.”

  Terence broke down and began to sob as Ezekiel said, “My shoulder telling me de rain getting ready to stop, if you want to take him now.” I realized I wasn’t hearing the rain pounding down over our heads as it had been as Mr. Smith grabbed him by one arm while Claude stepped out to grab him by the other, and they marched him unresisting towards the stairs. I watched them go with mixed feelings, wondering if the captain and Master Le’Vass had made the right decision as I decided I was grateful it hadn’t been mine to make.

  Then Master Khan touched my arm and I followed him.

  Pepper’s potion, as we began to call it, was far more complex than anything I’d done before, but then I’d never seen an apothecary as well setup as Master Khan’s. He had an area to himself in the aft-most section on the starboard side, with his apothecary a small room built into the main hold itself. Within were devices I’d never knew existed, like a clear, long glass jar with another piece of glass inside, shaped in a coil that stretched from the top until it came out a spout set in the side, used to purify liquids by turning them into steam then cooling them again, until liquid came out the side. Then there were devices I’d heard of but thought to be a tale: a golem-grinder, basically a black box with teeth inside, which a dragon-ghost could animate to grind raw herbs into a fine powder, and a golem-stirrer, a manikin with a long spoon that it used to stir the mixture so the liquid kept a proper consistency while it heated.

  Every device in the room was used. Fire-rose was a quieter dragon-ghost than I was used to, grinding all the herbs we added to the box with a minimum of comment, but Star made up for her, chattering away as she stirred the mixture when we needed her to do so, and making the manikin dance to the violin music drifting in from the crew’s hold when we didn’t. Jade contented herself to making occasional comments and gently keeping Tiger from making a mess of everything while we worked.

  Master Khan and I worked in companionable silence. He’d spent some time explaining to me how the mixture was put together, though when I asked him exactly how it worked he was at a loss. “The recipe has come down to us from ancient times, when men had more knowledge than they possess now, yes? So we must follow it carefully lest we do Pepper harm.” I’d nodded gravely and had worked to memorize every step as we’d gone along. Fortune smiled, for the mixture could only be made in small batches, giving me more practice, and as we began the last batch Master Khan stood back and let me work alone with the dragon-ghosts. When I’d finished, with the last of the white liquid flowing out drop by drop out of the side of the glass flask, I knew I’d done it correctly by the smile I could see underneath his deep cowl.

  Jade had gone quiet and I suddenly understood why as Pepper’s voice spoke behind me. “Kyrie Eleyson, is all this just for me?”

  “Not all for you,” Master Khan replied, “but also for Tomas to learn how to craft your potion, so he can make it if I am not here.” Pepper gave him a sharp look and under his hood I saw him smile. “Dear child, I am old, and even though time seems to have slowed for us, I will likely die before you do...years from now, if I can help you live.”

  Pepper hugged him like a girl would her Gran-Pere, Master Khan patting her shoulder with a wrinkled, age-spotted hand, before she came over to where the white liquid was flowing, drop by drop by drop, into another glass jar. She put her nose close to the opening and made a face. “I have to drink that?”

  “Every day with
out fail,” Master Khan said sternly. “One spoonful if you have kept your shape as it is now, and two if you have let it flow into the shape of another.” He stabbed a finger at her as Pepper’s face became petulant. “You have no choice in this matter.”

  “Master Khan said you can mix it with rum if you want.” Pepper made another face and I said, “You don’t like rum?”

  “No, I like it fine, but it’s just...” Pepper stopped and took a deep breath. “Before I was born my mother was a terrible drinker. But the night she went into heat and conceived me with whoever my father was, she never touched it again like she had. I have a memory of us sitting together the night before she left, Mam with a cup of rum and me with my milk. She’d finished her cup, but when a skinny, redheaded man tried to refill it she flipped it over. ‘One cup only’, she’d told him as mam looked me in the eye. ‘My daughter’s not a drunkard and neither am I’.” As I tried to figure out why that story had any bearing on her taking the mixture with rum, Pepper patted my hand. “Worry not: I know men and women comport themselves differently, and with Jeremiah as your... truest friend, I’m sure I’ll be helping you to bed after a night drinking on more than one occasion.”

  “More like Tomas will be helping me,” Jeremiah’s voice said from behind Pepper. She whirled around as I shared a grin with my friend, his smile turning sardonic as he looked at her. “Several sailors at St. Augustine tried to get him drunk once, but all he did was get two days tipsy, though don’t ask me why.”

  Pepper gave me a sharp look but all I could do was shrug. Alcohol never made me drunk the way it did other people, but on the other side of the coin I didn’t sober up like they did, remaining slightly drunk far longer than I should’ve. At least I’d never had the need for Gran-Pere’s hangover cure. Pepper’s look turned thoughtful as she said to Jeremiah, “So why are you here?”

  Jeremiah hooked a thumb at me. “The captain wants him on deck. Claude says the cannons are in good shape, and he wants them transmuted so he can begin running the villagers through firing drills.” Jeremiah shook his head. “Me, I’d let the people of Haven figure them out on their own, but Claude’s a stickler for doing things the correct way, so the captain wants us to take a little excursion into Haven and get it done, since Jade won’t transmute them without him.”

  Master Khan said, “Pray tell the honorable captain that Tomas will be along in a moment, yes? I have need for his help in one more matter.”

  “I’ll tell him, but he’s likely to show up here and take Tomas by the ear...bloody bones!” Jeremiah’s gaze seemed caught by what remained of the Black Strangler vine spread out on the opposite worktable. “It’s not black at all.”

  I glanced down at the wooden worktable to my right. After I’d cut away the white tendrils tinged with black on their ends, Master Khan had asked me to strip away the outer black skin of the vine and I had, revealing white flesh underneath. “The part nearest the head was easiest to work with, but the farther away I got the more fibrous it became.” What remained of the vine on its bed of black skin looked more plant-like than the front part had, its mass a tangle of cords instead of solid flesh, as it had been near the head. “It kept clogging the grinder so Master Khan bade me stop, since we’ve now got enough to last Pepper for a year.” Both Pepper and Jeremiah gave me a surprised look as I motioned towards a small brandy cask sitting on a shelf close to hand. “We got a lot out of the first third of the vine since it was so fresh.”

  “Brother Tristan will pay gold for the rest and so enrich the crew, yes?” Master Khan shooed Jeremiah out, making sure he had departed and no one else was close to hand before he pulled out a sea chest I hadn’t noticed sitting in a corner and opened it up, Pepper and I both peering around him like children looking for a treat on Twelve Night . He reached into the chest and pulled out a coat of grey plates held together by grey rings like chainmail. I knew by the sound it wasn’t metal, making more of a clattering sound as he held it up for us to see.

  I reached out to touch one of the plates...and knew at once what it was. “The armor’s transmuted bone,” I breathed, putting my hand on Pepper’s shoulder a moment when she gasped. “It’s alright: the Timucua and the other tribes make armor out of animal bone, mostly chest pieces since it’s hard to transmute. There’s a ritual involved in getting them, since it has to be the bone of the warrior’s totem animal.”

  Pepper gave me a puzzled look. “Totem animal?”

  “All warriors have a totem animal. It’s a sacred creature that guides and protects them, and as I understand it, the animal’s spirit sends the shaman a dream about the warrior, telling the shaman that the warrior deserves the totem animal’s protection. So the shaman stuffs his dragon-ghosts full of his strength and goes with the warrior, who hunts down and kills his sacred animal, and then the shaman carves and shapes the bone so the dragon-ghosts can transmute it. But he can’t wait too long, because bone’s not like wood where you wait for it to dry first. Bone has to be worked within twelve hours and all the flesh removed before it’s transmuted.”

  “Have you ever done it?”

  “Once,” I answered, “when Jeremiah and I were hunting rabbits getting into the garden and digging up our herbs. One of the shaman had just taught me about transmuting bone, and Smoke wanted to try, so Jeremiah and I cleaned up one of the skulls and Smoke transmuted it.” I gave her a wry smile. “I let Smoke stuff herself first but it still took every bit of strength she had, and we both decided it wasn’t worth the effort, even though bone’s harder and won’t shatter like transmuted wood eventually does.”

  “What happened to the skull?”

  “I gave it to Jeremiah, who gave it to his sister, Rebekah. She took it with her when she got married, so it’s probably on a shelf somewhere in Master Valencia’s shoppe in Campeche.”

  Pepper reached out a slender hand to the armor and began running her fingers over the grey rings. “Obviously Hob was the one who transmuted this, so what animal did he use?”

  Master Khan cleared his throat. “Animal bone cannot be used. The bones used...came from a woman.”

  My eyes widened in horror while Pepper snatched her hand away as if she’d been burned. “Master Khan, you cannot be serious.” She backed away a pace. “Olde Bone Woman of the Yucatan sacrifices men and uses their bones to make golems for her dragon-ghosts to animate, since she knows men fear them. She doesn’t make bone armor but it doesn’t matter: what she does is evil, and I’m not committing a mortal sin by using a dead woman’s bones.”

  Master Khan turned and placed the armor back in the chest as Pepper came over to stand at my side. He closed the lid then straightened and turned to face us. “When a mortal becomes one person with a dragon-ghost, as you wish to do, the person can absorb an animal’s skin and claws, becoming that animal, but the bone and fur cannot be transmuted, yes? The only transmuted substance the person can absorb is the transmuted bone of another Dragon. So, unless you begin wearing armor, which I know you will not do, this is the only way I can protect you.”

  Pepper’s face took on a stubborn look and Master Khan sighed. “Once you have merged with Smoke you will become a warrior, since Smoke is a fighter, yes? So, you must do this.” He raised an age-spotted hand as Pepper began to argue. “The armor is very light, much lighter than normal bone. It will become part of you the first time you change your shape into something else, and settle deep within you when you change your shape back to looking mortal again, protecting you even though you appear human.”

  “What do you mean,” Pepper said with a quaver in her voice, “appear human?”

  The voice of Master Khan became gentle. “Child, if you do this you will no longer be human, no matter how you appear, yes? Men will never look at you the same way they do now, once they have seen you change into something else.” He sighed again. “I had a lover once, long ago, who became the bodyguard of the king of my people. The first time I saw her change into a monster to
defend him...well, let us just say we remained lovers no longer. I did not understand things the same way I do now.”

  Pepper turned to me with a fearful look, and instinctively I grasped her hand with my own. “It won’t matter.”

  “Tomas...”

  “It won’t; I’d be biting back my words right now if it wasn’t true. Besides,” I added with a smile, “people keep telling me I’m not entirely human myself, so we’ll be well matched.”

  The fear left Pepper’s face as she smiled. “As long as I know you’re alright with this, the rest of the world can go dance the hempen jig.” But the smile left her face as she turned to Master Khan. “I won’t wear the bones of a dead woman, Dragon or naught.”

  “If the bones were given by their owner as a free gift, you might change your mind, yes?” Pepper shrugged and Master Khan said, “The armor was made from the transmuted bone of the White Lady, Long-Mu.”

  Pepper and I both gasped. “But...she’s dead,” I blurted out.

  “In truth she is not, although it is difficult to explain...”

  “Forget it, Khan,” Hob’s reedy voice said from above us. I looked up. His grey, spindly body was sitting in the space between a grey-wood brace and the deck above us. “You don’t truly understand her state yourself, nor do any of you have the frame of reference I’d need to explain it.”

  Pepper looked up with her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what our physical frames have to do with understanding, but none of us are mummer’s fools.”

  “A mummer’s fool is always the wisest one in a play,” Hob shot back, “but as you will.” He leaped down onto the worktable, shaking it, and Star in the little manikin body caught the glass jar with the coil inside before it toppled off the table. Hob ignored what he’d almost done as he turned his attention on Pepper. “Long-Mu isn’t dead, but neither can she become as she was and take on a physical form, or she would’ve done so already. She’s in an in-between state, conscious of what’s going on with the matrix of her body now part of the ship.” Pepper gave me a puzzled look but I just shook my head as Hob went on. “Bones are always the easiest to recast when the matrix is broken down, and when Long-Mu heard of your betrothal, she asked me to make you a gift of this armor.” Hob gave her a grin of sharp, pointed teeth. “Not exactly traditional, but then Long-Mu always favored practicality over tradition.”