Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns (44 page)

"Do ye think ye're doin' right here, boy? Think ye're on some grand bloody quest o' righteousness? Ye do, don't ye. Well take it from me, boy, ye're a damned sight distant from anywhere near right. I've done some bad bloody stuff in my time, but enslavement? Hostages? Usin' threats o' harm 'gainst a lad's family to get him to fight for ye? That's low as a damn snake and ye know it. Duel, boy. You and me. Right now."

Pete looked at Heartless Jon a moment, then a smile made its way onto his face. Without a word he drew his cutlass, a long, beautiful, elegantly curved weapon, Jon following suit with his own cutlass, which was decidedly unbeautiful—slightly tarnished, obviously old, its edge pitted with the mark of many duels.

Both men stepped towards each other and assumed fighting stances.

"You think me an easy mark," said Badger Pete. Miya examined his stance but could find no flaw, no weakness; the way he stood and held his sword spoke of a master swordsman, supremely confident in his own ability. "But you don't survive as a pirate for nigh-on twenty years without knowing how to fight."

"Ye've crossed me wife before," said Heartless Jon, his own stance, Miya noted nervously, more than a little sloppy—he held his sword too loosely and too low, his feet seemed to be too close together. "So ye know she's a great one for fancy footwork and flashy swordsmanship and all that kind of goings on. Finesse, that's the word. The lady's got bucketloads of finesse. Me, I can stab and slash all right, but I've only really got what ye'd call one 'move'."

Before Miya could even really register what had happened, Pete's cutlass was clattering to the deck and the edge of Heartless Jon's sword was at his throat.

"Aye, just one move," said Jon. "But ye've got to admit, it's a bloody good one. Son, go see to yer wife."

"Stop." Badger Pete's expression was calm, his tone confident. "You won't do anything to me. You're as prideful as I am."

Heartless Jon stepped forward, the blade of his sword pushing hard against Pete's throat.

"No I ain't," he said, grinning. Pete hesitated a moment, then waved his hand. Steel immediately released Lilith, and Tomas ran forward to her side. He and Steel exchanged glances as he cut the ropes binding Lilith's hands, then husband and wife were moving back to Miya and Sola, Miya embracing her mother quickly before setting her expression once more, watching Jon and Pete.

"Now," said Heartless Jon. "Maybe ye could see fit to—"

"GRANDAD!"

Jon brought his sword away from Pete's throat to parry an attack from Steel, then he scowled as Darkeye's sword bit deep into his right hand, his sword falling to the deck.

"Where the hell did ye come from, ye quick wee devil?" he growled at Darkeye, backing away from the two lieutenants, hand dripping blood. Steel raised her sword warningly, and Heartless Jon sighed.

"All right, all right, can't fight without a bloody weapon. I yi—"

"Grandad!" Miya's voice was shocked. Heartless Jon glanced around at her.

"Give me some credit, love, what am I supposed to do?"

"Kick the sword from Steel's hand, catch it, and then disarm Darkeye, OF COURSE!"

"With this?" Heartless Jon held up his hand. The wound was obviously deep.

"Use your off hand!"

"What? I can't fight with me left hand, are ye daft?"

"Why not?
I
can!"

"Well aren't ye a clever little thing."

Miya thought for a moment, then let out a short, irritated breath.

"I guess you can yield, then," she said.

"Oh, how gracious of ye," said Heartless Jon. He shrugged at the two lieutenants in front of him. "Ye heard the lass. I yield."

Steel and Darkeye looked at him a moment, then Darkeye nodded and returned to Pete's side, while Steel simply lowered her weapon and remained where she was standing.

"A shame you don't have more than the one move, really," said Pete. Heartless Jon grinned as he pulled off his bandanna and wrapped it around his hand. Pete looked back suspiciously.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked, his tone careful.

"Because it's been an age since I got cut and I forgot how alive it makes ye feel, because ye're standing there swallowing hard, thinking how close ye just came to kicking the bucket, but mostly, and I don't know if you kids noticed this," said Heartless Jon, turning to wink at his grandchildren, "because ye've got a lot less crew standing around now than when we first came aboard."

Miya's eyes widened as she realised this was true; she couldn't see a single member of Pete's crew—and, for that matter, all of Sola's villagers that had been behind Pete's group had disappeared, too. How on earth did I miss that, she thought.

"What's this treachery?" Pete demanded, turning and glaring around the deck. "Deserters! Cowardly deserters!"

"Nah, shouldn't think they've deserted," said Heartless Jon, still grinning.

"Then what?" Pete turned on him. "What's happened here?"

"I happened."

Captain Jean Scarlet appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the forecastle deck, blood red sabre in her hand.

"Hello, granddaughter," she said, looking at Miya. "Came to see how you were doing."

"G-grandmother," whispered Miya, unbelieving. Jean looked at her a moment, face as stern as ever, then she turned her gaze to the other members of Miya's family.

"Hello, you," she said, looking at Tomas. He looked back at his mother, his face grim, and nodded, once, curtly. Jean studied his face for a moment, then her eyes went to Lilith.

"I don't know if it was any concern of mine," she said, addressing the queen of Clover Island, "but there were a bunch of thugs on that island nearby, seemed to be holding some innocents hostage."

Lily looked back at Jean, her expression as neutral as her mother-in-law's.

"As I said," Jean continued, "I don't know if it was my concern, but I've never held with taking hostages. Bad way of doing business if you ask me."

Lilith smiled thinly.

"And," Jean said, her voice hard, "I reckon that about makes us even."

Lilith's smile faded. She looked at Jean for a moment then inclined her head, just slightly. Jean held her gaze a moment longer, then turned to look at Heartless Jon.

"And you, you big fool. What happened to your hand?"

"Ah, these two blades came at me at once, ye know how these things occur."

"And you found yourself cut? I suppose that's what retirement does to you," said Jean. "These two here?"

Jean looked at the two lieutenants, at the way they stood, the fight in their eyes.

"I know you, don't I?" she said to Steel. "Steel. Steel O'Toole. You were working with Northern Algernon for a while there."

Steel shrugged. "Government changed."

"Aye, that it did. Good pay with this fellow?" Jean asked, nodding towards Pete. Steel shrugged again.

"Decent enough."

"Good enough to die for?"

Steel looked at Jean for a long moment, then sheathed her sword. She turned to Pete, shrugged one last time, and then walked away.

"Where are you going? What, you're scared of this old woman? She's nothing! She's—"

"I remember you too, Peter," said Jean, walking down the steps towards him. "I remember when you were just starting out. You had some ideas then. Not good ones, either."

"That was a long time ago," Pete growled. "I've learnt a lot since then."

"Maybe you have," said Jean. "You've not grown a brain, though. Lower your sword, boy," she said to Darkeye as he approached her, "less'n you've got a death wish."

"You are Jean Black," said Darkeye. He smiled. "Duel."

"You daft, boy?"

"Duel," Darkeye repeated. Jean looked at him a moment, then shrugged. In an instant their swords were locked, Jean pushing against Darkeye's blade, his confident smile slowly fading as she forced his arm back. He tried to break the lock, to step back, but Jean grabbed his sword hand, forced him to stay locked with her.

"No," she said. "You wanted this."

"Y-yield!" he gasped, as Jean forced his sword to within an inch of his neck. She held it there a moment, then released him, put her boot to his chest and pushed, sending him sprawling.

"Now run," said Jean. Darkeye struggled to his feet, looked at her, then ran.

"Useless," growled Pete as his lieutenant fled. "You just can't buy loyalty these days."

He turned his attention to Jean, raising his sword. "I remember your little tricks, Scarlet, and I'm not the scrap you fought back then."

Jean looked at Badger Pete a moment. Then she laughed, a short, sharp, cheerless bark of a laugh, and turned her back on him. She sheathed her sword as she walked past Miya, and took up a place a distance behind the rest of the family, arms folded.

"Go on then," she said. "As you were."

Miya turned to look at her grandmother. Jean looked back.

"This ain't my fight," she said.

"But—"

"Sort it out yourself. I'm just here to watch."

Heartless Jon chuckled.

"You're a hard woman, Jean," he said. "A hard bloody woman."

Jean's only response to that was a thin smile.

"What a ridiculous family."

All eyes went to Grace, who until this point had been standing with her arms crossed, glaring out to sea, sulking. Now she stepped forward.

"You want to fight but you can't," Grace said to Heartless Jon, who shrugged and grinned. "You can fight but you won't," this time her remark directed at Jean, who raised her eyebrows just slightly. "Ridiculous."

Heartless Jon nudged Miya in the shoulder. "Here's yer chance, kid. Step up and defend the family honour."

Miya shrugged. "No point, really."

"What was that?" Grace stepped forward, glaring at Miya.

"I said that there's no point in fighting you," said Miya, raising her voice. "You've already lost, half your fleet's gone, we saw two corvettes sailing away on the way to this 'parley' and at least two more have left just while we've been here. The Highland's lost faith in you and thanks to my grandmother you have nothing to bargain with. But more than any of that," Miya said, stepping forward, her face serious, "is the fact that I've already beaten you."

Grace's hand was on the hilt of her sword. "That doesn't count. You cheated," she hissed. Miya laughed.

"Give it up, Grace, or I'll give you another scar to remember me by."

"I can wear a headscarf, or tilt my hat forward to hide the piddling cut you left me," said Grace, her tone superior. "But you can't very well walk around with your mouth covered, can you? It looks pathetic, your mouth all sewn up like that—if we're talking about our last fight, I'd say you're the one that came out worse off."

Miya cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms.

"Is that really how you see things?" she asked. "I'm proud of this wound. Do you know what I'll think of, every time I see it in the mirror, every time I notice someone looking at it? I'll be thinking of the time I defeated a coward in battle, how I avoided your surprise attack and walked away with nothing more than this. But you? Try to hide that scar all you like, every time you catch a glimpse of it in the mirror you'll be forced to think of the time you attacked me without warning ..."

Miya smiled.

"And still lost."

With a savage cry Grace hurled herself at Miya, who uncrossed her arms as she stepped nimbly aside, her sword in her hand in an instant.

"Miya—" Lilith began, before Tomas laid his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at her husband, then turned back to watch her daughter, concern in her eyes.

"You were lucky last time," spat Grace, as she and Miya circled each other. "I'm clearly your superior."

"Is that why you sent the traitor to kill me?" asked Miya. "Yeah, that was so superior."

Grace hissed and lunged forward, Miya's sword rising to meet the attack. For a moment they were locked together, then Miya kicked out, forcing Grace to jump back, stumbling a little.

"What's the matter, 'Grace'? Not quite living up to your name?"

Miya stepped forward, sword flashing as Grace tried to attack; every slash turned aside, every thrust dodged.

"Yield now," said Miya. "Or I'll give you something to really cry about."

"I'd
never
yield to the likes of you," growled Grace. "Pancake the weed princess, SO appropriate."

Miya narrowed her eyes and slashed at Grace's hand before she could react, opening a small cut.

"Yield," she said.

"
Never
."

Miya's sword flashed and another cut was opened, this time on Grace's arm.

"YIELD."

"I NEVER WILL!"

Grace swung her cutlass hard at Miya's face, forced her to block, then brought up her other hand forcefully. Suddenly Miya couldn't see, found herself blinded by a faceful of dust.

"YARRR!" Miya cried out, slashing wildly in front of herself. Her aim was only to keep Grace back until she could recover, so she was surprised to feel her blade bite and hear a cry of pain. Stepping back, wiping at her eyes, Miya saw Grace holding her face, blood dripping from between her fingers.

"My face!" she sobbed. "My nose!"

Miya stood a moment, shocked, still blinking the dust from her eyes, when she felt herself pushed roughly to the side.

"Watch yerself, girl," hissed Heartless Jon, standing between her and Badger Pete, his sword held in his left hand.

"Wha—" was all Miya got out before her grandfather pushed her back again, bringing his sword up to block Pete's strike.

"Bloody hell ye've got an arm on ye," Heartless Jon grunted, staggering back from the parry.

"Out of the way, old man," growled Pete. "It's the little wench's blood I'm after."

"Careful, boy, that's me granddaughter ye're talking about," said Heartless Jon, his voice gaining a dangerous edge. Pete swung again but Jon stepped to the side, slashed back as he saw an opening but missed completely.

"How the hell do ye fight with yer off hand?" he called to Miya.

"Practice!" she called back, blinking the last of the dust from her eyes.

"Practice, she says, can you believe the girl?" Heartless Jon asked no one in particular, dodging another slash from Pete.