by Dave Skinner
“Did you understand what he told us?”
“No. Was it important?” Brayson stared at Nails for a few moments.
“Only if you want to live,” he said, “but not to worry, it was simple. They are going to teach us to be sailors and pirates. If we do what we’re told and work hard, we will be fine. The captain’s name is Horn. William is the first mate. Talk to William if you want something. Don’t bother the captain.”
“I thought the captain was nice. He took those rowers who were unable to work somewhere. I wonder where they went.”
“Over the side,” Brayson said. “The captain helped them along.”
***
“Where are we going?” Nails asked.
Brayson had been wondering the same thing. As far as Brayson could tell, they had sailed around Swanrock Island to the southeast side. Now, they were creeping closer to some towering limestone cliffs. He saw nowhere the ship could come to ground, nor a harbour of any type to protect the vessel from waves and winds. They seemed to be heading straight towards a wall of rock.
“Back to the oars, boys,” he heard William order. “Quickly now.” Other rowers came rushing across the deck to take their seats on the bench. “Make ready the oars,” William called.
Brayson tore his eyes from the cliffs ahead of the ship and turned his back to them, facing the stern. He heard the sail being lowered as he positioned his oar, and his body itched with the knowledge that they were headed towards rocks that could make kindling out of the ship at any moment. Up ahead, he could see the captain at the wheel looking relaxed, or was he? Sometimes, Brayson had the ability to see the heart of a person. It came to him out of nowhere at random times, like a mist drifting across his vision, but instead of obscuring what he saw, the mist enhanced it, allowing him to see a person’s true intentions and feelings. Many little-people, if not most, had the skill and could do it at any time. His mother tried to teach him to call upon it, without results.
“Maybe it will develop when you are older,” she had suggested. “It happens like that often.” He should have asked her when it happened, but he had been a child and his interests had been elsewhere. He berated himself often for his lack of skill, especially after he was tricked by those men at Lower Thesia and ended up as a slave chained to a bench.
The captain began to spin the wheel and the ship swung to starboard.
“Starboard oars pull backwards,” William ordered. “Port oars pull...pull...pull and both together now.” Off to the left, Brayson saw a wall of trees sliding into view. They seemed to be sailing through a narrow channel that had been hidden from sight. He felt the bow swing to the left and then straighten out. “All together,” William called. “Three good pulls boys and we’ll be home. On the beat. Pull, pull, and one more.” Brayson felt and heard the ships bottom grind onto sand as they came to a stop. “Oars in and secured,” William called.
“Look, Brayson,” Nails said from beside him. “It’s a small village.”
Brayson saw a number of neat-looking, round huts with thatched rooves and bamboo sides, a good distance from the shore. The ship was sitting on the wide, sandy beach of a smooth-surfaced cove, and the huts and what looked like a few traditional log cabins were situated in a grove of trees well up from the water. He could see women and children making their way through them towards the ship.
“Let’s get her unloaded,” William called. Brayson stood and stretched the kinks out of his back, noticing that Nails had a big smile on his face.
“This reminds me of our house on Waysley Island,” he told Brayson. “I liked it there. I think I’ll like it here.”
William organized the men into a chain stretching from the hatches to the starboard side of the ship. Brayson concluded that there was some kind of a wharf on that side because they lowered the ship’s cargo over it. From his position at the hatch, he could see people making a pile of plunder well up on the beach. When the holds were empty, they all disembarked. The plunder was then sorted into smaller piles under the watchful eye of Captain Horn and a large-bosomed woman who stood at his side. Most of the goods were carried to a log cabin situated in the centre of the village. The rest was passed out to the sailors and other villagers. It was almost dark by the time they finished. Then, William gathered all the new men together by the log cabin and took them inside.
“These goods belong to everyone,” he told them. “You men are to pick some clothes to replace those rags you are wearing and then take yourselves down to the water and bathe after our smithy removes your shackles. You can burn those rags when you come back. Then I’ll see about finding you places to sleep. Food should be ready soon.” As William left, everyone began searching through the pile of clothes, anxious to find something new to wear. Brayson found some blue cloth pants and a red, silky shirt which called to him. Nails picked out a white shirt and white pants.
“Let’s go swimming,” Nails said as soon as they had their leg chains removed. “I haven’t been swimming since I was shackled…I don’t even know how long that is.”
“I figure twelve moons passed while we were captives,” Brayson told him as they headed for the beach, but Nails wasn’t listening. He was bouncing back and forth with a big smile plastered on his face.
“I like swimming,” Nails told him.
“I can see that. You look like you’re going to burst.” For some reason, Nails’ excitement was spreading to Brayson. He could feel it in his chest. “Calm down, Nails,” he said. As he reached out to touch the big man’s shoulder, a spark jumped from Nails into Brayson’s hand.
“What was that?” Nails asked.
“Your excitement is causing sparks of energy,” Brayson answered. “I’ve never heard of that before.”
“Well water puts fires out, so a swim should stop the sparks,” Nails said as they reached the beach. Without stopping or removing his old clothes, he plunged into the water, frolicking in the waves. Brayson joined him. Then, they removed their rags and washed their bodies. After the swim, they dressed in their new clothes and headed back to the village.
“I think I like it here,” Nails said as they walked.
“But will you enjoy being a pirate?” Brayson asked.
“I hope so, but I don’t know anything about being a pirate, so your question will have to wait for an answer.”
***
After they broke their fast the next morning, William gathered all the new men together and led them to a small hut behind the stores cabin.
“Have any of you men used a sword before?” he asked when they came to a stop.
Two of the men said yes. Brayson could have answered yes also, but he was not a trusting person especially when it came to big-people. He had been tricked and enslaved by men before. He would keep his own counsel.
There was a crude padlock on the hut that William struggled to open with an oversized key. Brayson felt he could have picked the lock more quickly, but eventually the door swung open, and William led them inside to reveal a large store of weapons.
“Pick whichever weapons suit you, bring them outside and line up,” he told them.
Brayson sorted through the swords until he found one that felt balanced and weighted to his liking. He also found a good dagger. The two men who had claimed some weapons skills chose carefully while the others seemed to make their selections based on appearance. Brayson watched Nails paw through the collection. At first, he picked up some fancy swords with jewels embedded in them but returned them all to the table. Brayson was going to offer to help, but then he noticed that Nails’ hands started to glow as he picked through the swords. Initially, he thought a beam of sunlight was coming in through a crack in the roof or wall, but it soon became obvious that the glow was emanating from his hands. It was subtle. If they had been outside in the sunshine, he never would have noticed it, but here in the dim, windowless cabin, it was obvious. Eventually, Nails held up a long broadsword and smiled at Brayson.
�
�I like this one,” he said and then paused as he noticed Brayson’s expression. “Why are you staring at my hands?” he continued.
“Your hands are glowing.”
“Oh, that happens sometimes.” Nails shrugged. “It happened a lot when I was younger before we moved from Waysley.” Nails looked at his hands. “It must be starting again, but it doesn’t hurt.”
William stuck his head in the doorway. “Get on with it, you two. We’re waiting.”
Brayson and Nails joined the others while William assessed their weapons choices. He sent two men back in to get sheaths and one man back to make a different selection.
“That sword shouldn’t be in that collection. Its only value is in the gems encrusted in the hilt. Some of the crew would slit your throat for those jewels. Pick something else.” Brayson noticed William slide the sword in under his belt instead of taking it back.
When everyone had weapons, William gave them all a quick lesson on how to hold a sword before he called one man forward. The rest formed a circle around the two of them.
“Can you use a sword?” he asked.
“No.”
“Let me see you swing it around.” The man made two tentative, clumsy swings. “Now try to hit me,” William instructed. The man lifted the sword over his head and brought it down. William’s sword blocked the stroke easily, pushing it to the side. Without effort, William’s blade came around and slapped the man’s exposed side. “You’re dead.”
He went through lessons for five of the others before he finally came to Brayson and Nails. Brayson managed better than the others had and admitted to having had some experience with a sword. Then William called Nails out.
“Any experience?”
“None,” Nails said.
“Okay, try to hit me with your sword.”
“I don’t want to,” Nails said. “I might hurt you.” William, and almost everyone else, laughed.
“No worry of that happening. I fought in the Destroyer War and lived. Next to the captain, I’m the best swordsman in the crew, so come on, you’re wasting my time.”
Nails made a halfhearted swing. William deflected the sword and repeated the stroke he had used on the others to tap their sides, but Nails’ sword blocked it. William’s eyebrows went up.
“You lying to me, big man?” he asked.
“What?” Nails said.
“You’re lying about never handling a sword. I can tell because that block was perfect.”
“Honest, William, I’ve never handled a sword. When I helped in the kitchen at the pleasure house, Cook wouldn’t even let me touch a knife.” William considered this for a moment before launching into a blistering attack on Nails.
Brayson was impressed with William’s ability, but he was more impressed with Nails. When he lived in Crosstown, Brayson had seen Prince Fairchild in a practice session. He was acknowledged as the best swordsman among his people. Even the prince would have had a tough time defending against William’s blade, but Nails made it look easy. His sword was always where it should be to block the first mate’s strokes. William stopped after a few moments.
“Well, big man, you certainly have some natural ability. Let’s hope you can pick up pirating as easily.”
Chapter 6
As he rowed, Nails watched the village grow smaller until the ship turned into the channel between the quiet harbour and the waters of South Lake.
“Put your backs into it,” William ordered, not that it was necessary. All the men on this pirating venture were seasoned and experienced. When Nails and the others from the smuggler’s ship had first joined the pirate crew, it was different; they needed William’s orders. Now, after many moons of experience, Nails believed William’s instructions were issued only to keep them working at the same pace. Even with only one man per bench, the Wave Splitter was easy to handle in calm weather, and the clear skies above promised just that. Winter was over. More ships were taking to the lake now that the storms of the cold season were past.
This was his third spring as a pirate. He had come to accept that part of his life involved the capture and looting of merchant vessels. It certainly wasn’t his favourite part, but he supposed it was necessary to have both good and bad times in life. Nails preferred the good times, which for him was the time spent in the village. He and Brayson had a hut of their own that they had built during their second cold winter on the island.
Being a pirate was dangerous, Nails had learned. Each raiding season, Captain Horn took on some new men to replace those who had been killed when they boarded other ships. It was usually the newer men who were killed; in fact, all but four of the seven rowers that joined the crew with Brayson and him had gone to watery graves.
Wave Splitter turned to port once they were free of the currents around the shores of Swanrock Island.
“Chimney Islands,” Nails suggested to Brayson who rowed on the bench astern of his.
“Probably,” Brayson agreed.
He smiled. He liked it when he understood what was happening. Brayson had been teaching him ever since they became pirates, well, even before that, and it had served him well. While the thought was in his head, Nails asked Brayson why he was so patient with him.
“Because you are not stupid.”
“I think you’re wrong, Brayson. Everyone always said I was dumb. Except for Susin, she never called me dumb.”
“She was your girl, right?”
“Not my girl. She worked at the pleasure house. She took care of me. She used to read to me in bed after she finished with her customers. I liked that.”
Brayson was quiet for a long while before he started talking again. “I have never been in bed with a woman. Is it as nice as the men make it out to be?”
“It must be. Many men came to the pleasure house to be with the women.”
“How was it for you and Susin?”
“We didn’t do anything. She just read to me. She said my body kept her toasty warm.”
“Was Susin pretty?” Brayson asked.
“I thought she was.”
“Why did you not do it then?”
“I never thought about doing it.”
“Never thought about it! Why not?”
“I don’t know. There were many things I didn’t understand or think about back then. Why haven’t you done it?”
“I suppose I was too young before. I only started thinking about it last year, just after my thirteenth summer.”
“I was probably too young also,” Nails said.
“Too young? I doubt it. How old are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“When were you born?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, were you in the Demon War?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve heard the sailors talk about how bad the war was. I think I would remember something like that. I seem to remember that I was four when we left Waysley. Yes, that’s right. My uncle visited just before we moved. We had a special dinner to celebrate my fourth name day.”
“I remember you saying that you lived in your uncle’s house in Waysley. Do you remember why you left?” Brayson continued to question.
“My uncle was moving. Someone new was going to use the house.” Nails usually buried his memories of younger times when they came to him, but the old ones of his uncle back in Waysley were pleasant, so he let the memories flow. “My uncle is a wizard. I remember him.”
“How do you know he is a wizard?”
“When he came to visit, he would do magic for me.”
Brayson thought for a moment. “Was his name, Andoo Toran?”
“I think it was. I remember Magga calling him that.”
“Was Magga your mother?”
“No!” Nails barked with laughter at that suggestion. “She was the person who looked after me, but she often said if she had a son, she hoped he wasn’t as stupid as me.”
“Andoo Toran stopped being th
e Wizard of Waysley when I was five. That was the year before my mother took me to Crosstown to live. I remember because he came to see us just before we left on that trip. He had been elected as Master of the Wizard’s Council. I cannot understand how you can a year younger than I am.”
“I have been big for as long as I can remember. Big and dumb was what Magga always said.”
“The woman who looked after you called you dumb?”
“All the time.”
“Well, my friend, she was wrong. You are uneducated, not dumb.”
***
“Sail,” Brayson called. “Headed our way and moving fast.” He felt the ropes he was holding sway, as a climber came up from below. He moved aside as William joined him.
“Is that a pennant on the mast?” William asked, but before Brayson could answer William continued, excitement obvious in his voice. “It is! That means someone important is aboard, and that means riches. We could use some coin instead of just grain and cloth. Drop down and tell the captain we got a rich one, then get to your oar.”
Brayson hand-over-handed down a rope and reported to Captain Horn. Orders were given, and Brayson was soon at his bench like most of the crew. Captain Horn had the Wave Splitter positioned in a deep trench between two small islands. A rope trailed from each side of the ship to one of the islands, keeping them pointed straight towards the channel that would take them out of the archipelago. When the order was given, they would drop the rope ends from the ship and be moving faster than if they had sat at anchor. It was a move the captain used often with great success. The only time Brayson had seen it fail was with the new double sailed ships that were coming out of Gore. Those ships were too fast and maneuverable.
William dropped to the deck and took up his position. “Get set,” he called. “Oars out and ready. Pull!” The ship started forward as the ropes were dropped to the water. Brayson heard one of the starboard rowers curse the Destroyer. An oar must have not dug deep enough, lost purchase, and skipped across the water. It happened sometimes, even to the best sailors. On his previous ship, this accident would have been punished with Bulger’s whip, but then Bulger used his whip whenever he could. Brayson put the thought aside and concentrated on rowing. Facing towards the stern as they were, it was impossible to see the other ships until they were on them.