Chronicles of the Dragon Pirate (17 page)

Redbeard had come back from whatever planning had been going on for boarding the Flyte, and now picked up the tale. “The next time we be seeing him, he be a changed man...along with being a wee bit paler than before, mind.”

“He calls himself ‘Black Pox Bill’, now,” Mr. Smith rumbled.

“And you’re saying Mr. Bierson will become the same way?”

Jeremiah put his hand on my shoulder. “I know that stubborn look. Tomas, Mr. Bierson was brave; bloody bones, we were all cheering him on at the end. But he chose his fate when he turned his back on the captain’s good faith offer of sanctuary.”

I sighed, recognizing the wisdom of my friend’s words but still feeling guilty over leaving a good man to suffer whatever it was they’d done to him. Then a thought struck me. “Not to give offense, but I always thought Olde Roger was a sailor’s tale, like real mermaids and the Bo.”

To my surprise the other three laughed. “Now I can nae show you a mermaid,” Redbeard said, the gleam returning to his eyes, “Though I can be telling you some true tales, if you’ve a mind to listen later when we be drinking. But have your girl conjure up six beasties for Mr. Smith, and I’ll be conjuring up a Bo before your very eyes.”

From the grins on their faces I figured I was going to be the butt of someone’s joke, but I was so glad to be off the Flyte I almost didn’t mind.

“Smoke,” I said to the air, “you take from the left arm, and the other six take from the right.” Smoke and six young girl’s voices told me aye, and a moment later they began to feed.

“Tomas, you’re beginning to sway,” Jeremiah said as I became lightheaded. “Here,” and he grabbed my shoulder, “sit down on the water barrel.” He guided me to a small, squat wooden barrel bound by copper bands, and the girls finished feeding.

When they’d withdrawn their fangs, Star asked, “Tomas, what’s a Bo?”

My face flushed red as the other men grinned at my discomfort. “They’re a sailor’s tale,” I said to the spot her voice was coming from. “They’re a race of women who live in trees and, ah, enjoy the physical comforts of men at all times, no matter what.” I went on in a firmer voice. “Smoke, if you would, create six more mermaids and you girls, I want you to obey Mr. Smith like you would me.”

The air just off the bow began to swirl as six little voices identified themselves to Mr. Smith. “You are to keep a little of Tomas’s strength in you at all times,” Mr. Smith said, his head turning as he looked at the spot each voice had come from. “I do not want you to accept any challenge from one of your wild sisters, and if you’re attacked physically in an effort to drain you, retreat at once and find Jade. This is extremely important, so I want to make sure you understand what I’m asking.”

He had each of them repeat it back, Star last, who then asked, “What are our duties, sir?”

“You will save your sirs for Captain Hawkins and just call me Mr. Smith. Your duties will be what I need done at the moment, but they will also include keeping the crew amused with the animation of small golems and the like.”

The dragon-ghosts all began chattering at once, each one telling Mr. Smith how she would be the one he could rely on. Suddenly Jade’s voice spoke from the air overhead, and all six went instantly silent. “Hoy, Captain Hawkins: the Black Narwhale is underway.”

I turned to look as the galleon passed the Flyte and headed for the open ocean. Her sails were tattered canvas rags flapping in the wind, yet she moved as if she were under full sail. As she went by us, I saw Shadowmen in dark clothes and hats on her decks, watching us intently with red eyes. Bronze cannons crusted over in green scum stuck out of the open gun ports, with more Shadowmen on station at each one, but they also did naught but watch us as they passed.

There were so many pieces of tattered canvas that it was hard to get a clear view of the main deck. Then suddenly a sail shifted and I saw the body of Master Gomez, hung by his feet from a rack with his arms hanging down, his arms red as if they were draining the blood from his body. Then the sail shifted again and he was lost to my sight. As the badly weathered galleon moved beyond us, I noticed the water churning behind her as a sea-fog began to grow around them. “Are my eyes playing tricks?”

“Nae be a trick,” Redbeard replied. “All the galleons of the Shadowmen be having the power to call a fog to surround them, which is how they be able to slip away like they do and move without the wind. Lucky for us, most of their ships be sloops, and nae one of them be having that ability.”

“But how do they do it?”

Redbeard shrugged. “Be a trick of Olde Roger’s. Back in the old days we be taking one of their galleons once, and when we cleaned out her hold we be finding an infernal device below deck under the stern, with tubes connected to it running bow to stern. How it be used no one could figure out, so we burned the ship and let the secret sink with her.” The mist rose up around the departing galleon and we watched it until the fog had swallowed it whole.

Then the big pirate grinned. “I be promising you a chance to see a Bo with your own eyes, and a Wallace nae ever goes back on his word.” Looking up at the mainmast, he bellowed, “Hoy Sally, bring your pretty self down here.” I looked up and saw at the very top a figure with golden hair shining in the sun, looking down at us as Redbeard put his hand on my shoulder. “This be the lad who saved Pepper’s life.”

At once the golden-haired figure began to move, not using the ratlines but instead moved across the rigging itself, using feet and hands to move from rope to rope in our direction, until her feet hit the deck directly in front of me. I stared at her in wonder. I knew at once she wasn’t human, for though she had a woman’s face she also had a mane of golden fur sweeping back in a long braid, and bands of golden fur around her wrists and ankles. Her feet were more like misshapen hands, and she walked towards us with a rolling gait. As she got close I saw her eyes were the same golden color as her hair.

But her skin was a beautiful nut brown color, covered by white trousers ending right above the fur on her ankles, and a band of yellow cloth covering her breasts, though nothing else. The face smiling at me was comelier than any tavern wench’s I’d ever seen. “You truly save Pepper?”

Her voice was husky but very female as I slid off the barrel, holding onto it with one hand for balance as I extended the other. “I did. My name’s Tomas Rios,” I added.

Ignoring my hand, she strode up in front of me and wrapped my body in a tight embrace. “Tomas make Sally happy; Sally love Pepper.”

Sally was shorter than I was, and as I instinctively put my own arms around her, I put my face next to her hair and inhaled. She had a spicy scent like the herbs from the Sweetwater mixed with a musky aroma I found intoxicating. Then she let me go just far enough to pull my head down and kiss me. The men laughed as my eyes widened with shock, but then closed as our tongues tasted each other and she pulled me in close again.

I could’ve stayed like that the rest of the morning, or so I felt, but Jeremiah broke us apart. “Enough,” he said, still laughing, “Tomas is ready to fall down at any moment as it is. Besides, Pepper will want to see you once Samuel’s finished pulling out the pistol ball.”

“Samuel removed it while the confrontation with Captain Thorne was occurring,” Jade’s voice said from a spot close by. “Fire-rose finished repairing her tissues, and now Pepper is resting in his bay.”

At once Sally let me go. “Then Sally go see Pepper,” she said and strode off with her rolling gait towards the hatch just behind the foremast. Pirates were coming up from below, but they moved for Sally to pass, who bantered with them the whole time as she went down to the hold below.

I shook my head as the crewmen resumed coming back up on deck. “This has been a day of wonders.” Thinking of Master Gomez, I added, “And horrors too.”

“The day isn’t over yet,” Jeremiah said cheerfully.

“Pray its sunset doesn’t match its dawn,” Mr. Smith rumbled. He stared at me for a long moment, though not unkindly, before speaking again. “In all of this, I think the greatest wonder is you. Any other Dragon not a warrior for ten years or more would be laid out on the deck in exhaustion after the amount of strength you expended on the Dutch Flyte. Yet not only are you still on your feet, but you gave us six more small air-golems.”

“I’m not sure how much longer Tomas can stay on his feet,” Jeremiah said.

“I agree...but it’s still a mystery.” Master Walters began bellowing for the crew to make ready to move as Mr. Smith added, “Which we’ll figure out soon enough. Jeremiah, let him rest in the shelter above the captain’s cabin for as long as he needs.” He turned to the six air-golem mermaids. “Ladies, attend me,” and he walked away. The six mermaids with nets in their hands floated along as they obediently followed him.

We walked past the forward or Crew’s hatch, as Jeremiah called it, and onto the center part of the ship, which was also the lowest, where the main hatch stood open and ready to receive cargo. Several pirates watched us as we skirted it on our way to the stern. “The captain’s cabin is the one on the right,” Jeremiah said as we walked towards the center stairs leading up. Both cabins were built into the stern instead of standing alone, the captain’s narrow, wooden door shut tight while the one on the left stood wide open. “Sally’s cabin is the one on the left, which I imagine you’ll see the inside of before too long, judging by the way she welcomed you.” Without explaining his cryptic remark Jeremiah led us up the stairs to the stern.

The first thing I noticed was the long tiller had been carved into the shape of the figurehead, the mermaid taking a drink of her Blackjack, though it was as grey as the rest of the ship was. Noticing where my gaze had fallen, Jeremiah remarked, “I carved that when the old tiller had cracked, and Hob transmuted it into grey-wood.”

“Hob?”

Jeremiah smiled as he pointed toward a small structure sitting above the captain’s cabin resembling a small cave, perhaps a yard high, and able to sleep no more than two at most. “You’ve had enough wonders for one day. Pepper sleeps in there sometimes, so there’s a blanket within.”

“But it’s open. I mean,” remembering sailor’s tales I’d heard about pirates, “haven’t there been...problems?”

Jeremiah snorted. “Terence, the man with the manacles on his legs tried to rape her six months ago. Her dragon-ghost Fire-rose set his hair on fire then branded Pepper’s name on the left cheek of his arse. Redbeard and most of the crew were for returning the favor with a red-hot poker before keelhauling him a couple times, but Pepper convinced the captain to make him the ship’s indentured servant instead, so he could work off his crime. Not that a lot of the crew doesn’t wish they could take her themselves, but Sally won’t play with any of us if Pepper’s hurt or feeling really bad, until Pepper feels better.”

I yawned despite myself. “Does it matter that much to the crew?”

“Wait until she turns her favors on you,” Jeremiah said with a knowing look. “The Bo have no shame whatsoever, and a seemingly insatiable lust.” My eyes widened and he smiled in response. “Now do you see why it matters so much to the crew? They know they have it good with Sally on board.”

“Why is Sally on board? I mean, I’ve heard the tales, but they always involve being on an island when the Bo find an ashore party, not one of them coming aboard a ship.”

“I don’t know,” Jeremiah said with a shrug. “I’m sure Captain Hawkins and Mr. Smith do, though. Going back to Pepper, since none of us can have her, she’s become the ship’s luck, in a sense. Our ship’s doctor, Samuel, is also teaching her the physician’s trade.”

“I can teach her what I know of apothecary,” I said, covering my mouth as I yawned again.

Jeremiah gently pushed me towards the shelter. “The only thing you’re going to do is get some rest, or you won’t be any good to anyone. Sleep yourself out; Jade told us about some large casks of brandy aboard the Dutch tub, and it’ll take us some time to move them off. I’ll come find you when we’re getting ready to set sail.”

My friend turned to leave and without thinking I blurted out, “Jeremiah, what’s going to happen to me?” He looked back as I said, “I’m not tough like you are: I’m just an apothecary.”

He looked at me like I’d just scattered my wits all over the deck. “An apothecary who just fought a press-gang of dead men before even having breakfast. You’ve proved yourself to the crew so stop worrying. Now, there’s cross-currents among the crew you’ll have to be wary of, but I’ll keep a weather eye out for you, so just listen sharp and you’ll be fine.” He gave me a shrewd look. “Smoke says she’s got a lot to tell me about when we have the chance.”

“She gossips like an old woman,” I grumped.

“Gossip or not,” Jeremiah said, “I think I’ll see if she’s in the hold with Pepper. So go lie down and dream good dreams.”

Why Smoke wasn’t with me like she usually was I didn’t know, but I was too tired to think about it as I ducked inside the shelter. It was dark and surprisingly comfortable inside, with a single pallet set up with a thin blanket, and without another single thought I laid down upon it and fell asleep to the gentle motion of the ship moving up beside the Queen Anne.

In time I dreamed. I was on the foredeck of the Dutch Flyte, fighting dead men with the wooden sword Alfonzo had given me to practice with back in St. Augustine. Alfonzo was there, along with Gran-Pere, Master Gomez, the guards from the town...and Belle-M’ere. All of them were just standing there, watching me fight, and none of them put up a struggle as pale men in dark clothes walked past me to carry them off. I yelled at them to fight back but they only stared at me with sad eyes, Belle-M’ere weeping black tears as Captain Thorn picked her up with one hand as easily as if she’d been a child. He touched the brim of his leather hat with his other hand as he carried her off to a ghost-galleon with tattered sails...and I was alone with the dead. I looked for a way out but they hemmed me in with outstretched hands, fear tightening around my throat like a hangman’s noose as they clawed at me.

But then the dream changed. The Blackjack Davy came sailing up to stop beside the ship, and both Jeremiah and Sally swung over on ropes, each of them grabbing an arm and lifting me into the air. We swung back over to the Davy and they put me at the bow as the ship sailed away. Somehow I lost my clothes, as happens in the way of dreams, but I didn’t care, for the ocean spray was warm as Pepper and Sally stood beside me, and for some reason I finally felt like I was home.