Hope and Red (16 page)

14

H
ey, Red.” Sadie's voice was dry and muted. “Tell me about when we was pirates.”

Red gazed down at her. She looked shriveled up as a raisin as she lay on the filthy straw mat, clutching a wool blanket. Her hair was like dry corn silk, and her skin was stretched painfully thin across her bones. She hadn't left this room in weeks. She would probably die here. Very soon.

But there was no hint of that in Red's expression as he knelt beside her. He raked his fingers through his hair and smiled, his ruby eyes gleaming from the light of the small oil lamp he had brought with him.

“The tale of Sadie the Pirate Queen,” he said quietly. “That's one of my favorites. Where should I begin?”

Sadie's gnarled, bent hands groped for his and when he gave it to her, she squeezed it. Her wrinkled lips worked silently for a moment. “From…from when I lose my ear.”

“Temporarily,” said Red.

She gave a toothless grin. “Temporarily.”

“So.” His voice became intense, theatrical. “Sadie had just had her ear torn off by Bracers Madge. It now lived in a pickling jar behind the bar of the Drowned Rat, along with a great many others. More than the pain of losing that ear was the shame of being turned out from the hall where thieves conspired, murderers were hired, and a dangerous girl with an unhealthy reputation could make a good living. But how could Sadie do that now? She was like to starve if she didn't do something bold. Fortunately…” He paused and looked down at her expectantly.

“Fortunately,” said Sadie, who had heard him tell this tale many times. “She was twice as bold as any other wag in Paradise Circle, Silverback, or Hammer Point.”

“Right you are,” said Red. “She conceived of a daring new business venture: piracy! She still had the commandeered ship, the
Savage Wind
. So she and her trusty first mate, Red, set about turning it into a proper pirate vessel, with a proper pirate crew. And it wasn't long before the
Savage Wind
could be seen cruising up and down the coast, its fierce captain pacing the bridge in a broad, feathered hat and long boots, looking for her next unlucky victim. Indeed, the docks of New Laven lived in constant fear of her sudden appearance. They said she gave no quarter, that if you were unlucky enough to be taken alive, she'd make you walk the plank over the reefs so that you'd fall and break yourself on them, spending hours half-submerged and bleeding out on the sharp coral before the cold waters of the deep finally claimed you. They said she once overtook and boarded a spice trader bound for the private docks of the emperor himself. When the captain rudely informed her that she would swing for it, she laughed, then had her crew pin him to the deck while she pissed all over him.”

Sadie laughed at that, a deep wet sound that ended in a spastic hacking cough that left blood on her lips.

“She became one of the most famous pirates who ever sailed,” continued Red, “second only to Dire Bane, scourge of the empire. Other pirates kept clear of New Laven completely, leaving Captain Sadie free to terrorize the coasts of the city with impunity. Oh, to be sure, the emperor's ships tried to catch her. But she knew secret ways and hidden inlets. Their dreary military methods were no match for her wily cunning.

“But all streaks must end, and so it was with the glorious reign of Captain Sadie the Pirate Queen. It was the poor honest peasants who finally banded together one night. As she made port to pillage a small coastal village, they appeared out of nowhere and launched burning pitch onto her ship from makeshift catapults. Within minutes, the
Savage Wind
was ablaze, and within the hour, Sadie was left once again with nothing but the clothes on her back.”

Red paused to look down at her. He brushed a few stray white hairs out of her face. “But was she ready to give up on this rotten old life?” he asked in a more subdued tone.

“No…,” whispered Sadie.

“Of course not!” he said, returning to his previous intensity. “She marched right back to Paradise Circle, faithful Red still in tow, walked into the Drowned Rat, and threw herself at the mercy of Bracers Madge. Sadie owned that she had been in the wrong to try and kill Backus in Madge's establishment, that it had been disrespectful and unprofessional, and she was forever sorry she'd done it. And Bracers Madge, it was said, was so moved by Sadie's declaration and humility, that she gave Sadie the jar that contained her long-lost ear, the first and only time Madge ever returned one of her prize souvenirs. From that night on, Sadie wore the small jar on a leather strap around her neck, and she was welcomed back to the neighborhood with open arms. Because that's how it is in the Circle.”

“That's how it is in the Circle…,” echoed Sadie. Her withered hand drifted to her throat, where the small jar rested on her boney chest.

“Where it's dismal and wet,” said Red.

“And the sun never gets,” responded Sadie.

“But still it's my home, bless the Circle,” finished Red.

Sadie smiled peacefully, and her eyes slowly closed. A moment later, she began to snore.

Red laid a gentle hand on her forehead and whispered, “Sleep well, you old goat.” Then he stretched his long legs and brushed the dirt from his pants.

“Is that how it really was?” asked a satiny female voice.

Red turned toward the doorway and saw Nettles leaning against the frame, her arms crossed, her long dark hair falling across her face in a dramatic way that Red knew was entirely on purpose.

“What, the story of Sadie the Pirate Queen?” He shrugged on his brown leather longcoat. “Close enough. Maybe I took a few harmless liberties. She never threw anybody onto a bed of coral. She did piss on that gaf, though. Funniest thing I've ever seen, him wailing and cursing the whole time.”

Nettles smirked. She'd taken to painting her full lips a dark mulberry lately. Red had to admit that it suited her well.

“How long was it really?” she asked. “The time you two plundered the coasts?”

“Only about three months.” Red picked up the small lantern he'd brought down with him. The light cast shadows across his lean face as he grinned. “But it was a sunny three months.”

He paused at the doorway and looked back into the room. Dirt floor, no windows. He hated leaving her here, alone. Still, underground hole or not, it was better than her dying in the street like a dog or a broken-legged horse.

“She's lucky to have you,” said Nettles.

“Hm,” said Red.

“We should all have some handsome young scoundrel to care for us in our final days.”

“Who said these are her final days?” Red asked sharply, although of course he knew they were.

“Sorry. Nobody.” Nettles was a good friend like that, usually.

Red looked at her then, the lantern playing off her smooth forehead and high cheekbones, her dark eyes sparkling with mystery. He wondered, not for the first time, why it hadn't worked out between them a couple of years back.

Then she squinted and plucked at his leather longcoat. “What in piss'ell are you
wearing
? Looks like a mole rat climbed onto your back and died.”

Oh yeah. Now he remembered why.

“It happens to be deer leather, finely tanned and cured, soft as velvet,” Red replied loftily. “You'll never find better.”

“Who'd you steal it from?”

“I won it in a game of stones.”

“That's what I just said.”

Red sighed. “What are you doing here, Nettie?”

“I was coming to the hall to take care of some personal matters, and Filler asked me to pop down and tell you it's on for tonight.”

“He got a horse?” Red's ruby eyes shone eagerly in the lantern light.

“I don't know what he does or doesn't got,” said Nettles. “I only know the message and that's
all
I want to know. You boys been getting too serious lately.”

“Like you don't know trouble.”

“Trouble, I know. But what you wags are doing?” She shook her head. “It's only a matter of time before you swing. Or worse.”

“It's not
that
bad,” said Red. “We just—”

“Like I said, that's all I want to know!”

Sadie groaned in her sleep.

“Come on, we're making too much noise,” said Red.

Nettles nodded and the two left the room, their boots tracking softly in the dirt as they passed other doorways, some quiet, some full of moans or cries, and some stinking of death. At the end of the hallway, they climbed the narrow wooden ladder up to the ground level of Gunpowder Hall.

As Red and Nettles picked their way through the crowds, a voice called, “Red! Hey, Red!”

A thin, pouchy-faced old man was making his way over to them.

“Backus.” Red met him halfway and clasped his hand. “How are things?”

“Things are as they are,” said the old man. “But thought I should tell you, I'm out of Sadie's medicine. I been bringing it to her regular, like you said, and it's all used up.”

“Oh,” said Red.

“You…uh…think that'll do?” asked Backus. “I mean…Red, it don't seem to be doing nothing, and I know however you get it, it ain't cheap.”

Red shook his head. “No.”

“Sadie wouldn't want you spending all your money on her. You know that.”

“Well, she'll just have to get well enough to tell me that herself,” said Red.

Backus looked at him a moment, his sagging face unreadable. Finally, his mouth worked up into a half smile. “She raised you a proper man of the Circle. Alright, you get me that medicine, I'll keep giving it to her.”

Red put his hand on Backus's boney shoulder. “Thank you.”

Backus shrugged. “It's the only thing to do. You'll understand someday. If you're lucky enough to be one of the few that makes it into old age, the folks of your youth, be they friend or foe, become the ones you treasure most.”

Red watched as Backus made his way back to the corner of the hall where the old wrinks congregated.

“I can't believe he's not scamming you somehow,” said Nettles. “Selling off that medicine or something.”

“I know,” said Red. “But I asked around, and everybody says he gives her the meds every day like clock. Old people are funny like that.”

“Soft is what it is,” said Nettles. “Hope I die first.”

Red grinned at her. “Nettie, you haven't got an ounce of romance in you.”

“And a good thing, too. Romance is for ponces and halfwits.”

And that, thought Red, was the other reason things hadn't worked out between them.

“Well.” He pulled on his thick leather fingerless gloves. “I best see if Filler has really come through.”

Nettles eyed his gloves. “Going to work, then?”

“There is a city out there with wealth in desperate need of redistribution,” he said, smiling.

She roughly clasped his hand. “You better come back alive, is all. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I will get a necromancer and pissing summon you, just so I can kick you in your ghostly balls.”

He bowed mockingly to her and left Gunpowder Hall, wondering if maybe she did have an ounce or so of romance after all.

“And you're
sure
about this, Red?” asked Filler, scratching his scruffy short beard as he eyed the horse. Although he'd been the one to score the big animal, he didn't seem to like being around it.

“Of course.” Red patted the horse's large pink-and-white nose with his gloved hand. The two stood with the horse in a narrow alley off Central Street.

“And to steer, all I have to do is move these reins to the right or to the left?” Filler squinted skeptically.

“Filler, my best wag,” said Red. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were scared of this dumb animal.”

“Not scared,” said Filler.

“Of course not,” agreed Red.

“Only…my cousin, Brig. He got his head kicked in by a horse, and now all he does is sing nursery songs and shit his pants.”

“Ah,” said Red, nodding seriously. He reached up to put his arm around Filler's shoulders. “So, it's like this, old pot. One of us needs to ride the horse, and one of us needs to pick the lock. Now, tell me. Are you any good at picking locks?”

Filler shook his head.

“Well then,
I
need to be doing that bit, don't I?”

“I suppose.”

“And if I'm picking the lock, I can't very well ride the horse, too, can I? So the only other option would be to bring in a third party to this venture. Someone who isn't haunted by the memories of horse-kicked cousins. Who doesn't mind riding a fine steed such as this one. Someone like, oh, I dunno, Handsome Henny, maybe. Or perhaps Nettles, seeing as how you practically invited her on the job anyway.”

“I swear, Red, I didn't tell her nothing about it.”