Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns (45 page)

"Where's your 'one move' now, old man?" Badger Pete growled.

"Been askin' meself that for the last minute."

Badger Pete eyed Jon for a moment, then leapt forward—Jon brought his sword up to block the attack, then grunted painfully as the heel of Badger Pete's boot crunched squarely into his knee.

"Arr, ye jammy bugger," grunted Heartless Jon. He struggled to remain standing, then fell to one knee, his cutlass clattering to the deck as he clutched at his leg.

"Sorry, Granddaughter," he managed, his voice pained, holding his knee. "Body's packing in on me."

"Grandad—"

"Don't worry yerself about me, get on and fight girl!"

Badger Pete stepped past Jon, ignoring him now as no threat, continuing his advance on Miya. She raised her sword, her face determined.

Miya cried out as Pete's cutlass crashed against her guard, was almost driven to her knees by the power of it. She dodged the next blow by ducking to the left, then turned to defend against his next strike, couldn't help but cry out again as she parried—the force of Pete's attacks was so strong that it hurt just to block them.

"Miya!" Her mother's voice.

"I'm—" Miya couldn't get out more than that, was forced to stop talking to focus on Pete's attacks—she threw herself to the side as he brought his cutlass down at her, just barely dodging in time. Pete stepped forward and kicked out, but Miya slipped aside, countering with a slash at his legs, her expression hardening as she felt her blade bite, blood splattering against the deck as Pete hissed his pain. Miya realised she'd left herself open and twisted to the side but too late, too late to stop Pete's cutlass from gouging into her arm, deep.

"AHH!" Miya cried, stumbling back, clutching at her right arm, blood welling from between her fingers. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the pain, wiped her left hand on her shirt then threw her sword into it before dodging back from a sudden attack, then spun to the side, stepping back again as Pete pushed forward. He slashed at her three times in a quick combo—the first two she managed to dodge but she was forced to block the third, once more crying out as the sheer power of the blow pushed her back. She glanced over to make sure Grace wasn't trying anything, but her rival was on her knees, cradling her face, her sword forgotten on the deck beside her. That glance cost Miya, as Pete's fist slammed into the side of her face, dazing her, before his boot crashed into her shoulder, sending her off her feet and onto the deck, coughing.

"No!" she called out, suddenly noticing her father as he swung at Pete. Tomas's blade bit into the back of Pete's shoulder but seemed to do little more than make him angry—Badger Pete turned and slashed at Tomas, who dodged back before crying out in anguish as he collapsed, clutching at his side.

"Dad!"

"FIGHT!" Tomas yelled, the pain clear in his voice.

Pete spat onto the deck in contempt, then turned away from the wounded man, focusing once more on Miya.

"Dad ..." she whispered, before glaring up at Pete, small face set.

"He brought that on himself, girl," said Pete. "Man's got to know his limits."

Miya focused her stance and forced her breath to become measured as she prepared to attack Pete once more, but before she could move Sola stepped past her, wooden spear in hand.

"Sola, no! He's too ..."

Miya trailed off, aware of the uselessness of words as Sola growled and swung at Pete's legs, forcing him back, then reversed his grip on the spear and thrust forward, grazing Pete's side. Without pausing Sola spun, bringing the spear around in a wide arc towards Pete's head. There was a loud, solid thump as Pete caught the spear in his off hand.

"You'll need more than this little stick, boy," Pete growled, as he tugged at the spear. Sola resisted for a moment then grunted, let the spear go and launched himself at Pete, charging into him in a hard tackle. Pete dropped the spear and staggered back but held firm, smashing his fist into Sola's face twice before the big Tonfa-Tonfa'an released him and stumbled back, dazed. Pete pushed the advantage, kicking at Sola's midsection, but Sola brought his hands up and caught Pete's boot, twisted hard and sent him crashing to the deck. However, before Sola could act further Pete's leg lashed out, catching him in the calf and tripping him, sending Sola down just as hard.

"Don't get up if you know what's good for you," Pete muttered, as he quickly recovered his footing and turned his attention to Miya once more. "Now," he growled. "Time to pay for what ye did to me daughter."

Miya saw an opening and charged at Pete, but his cutlass was there to meet her sword as she swung, the hard parry almost wrenching the blade from her grip.

"Come on,
girl
, is that all you've got?"

Miya scowled and spun, slashing at Pete's arm. He jerked his hand out of the way, just barely avoiding Miya's attack. She'd expected the blow to land and so was slightly overbalanced, but recovered by pushing herself even further forward, twirling herself around to face Pete once more.

"Energetic little wretch," Pete spat, before reading something in Miya's face. He grunted as he turned to block Sola's attack from behind, his cutlass biting into the wooden spear.

"I said stay down," he growled, pushing back at the spear. Sola held firm, then jumped back as Pete kicked at him. Miya managed to land another shallow slash against Pete's arm before he roared and turned on her, bringing his cutlass down and very nearly taking her hand off. It was only Sola's sudden strike that saved her; the side of his spear crashed into Pete's side and threw his balance off.

"Sola!" Miya called out, suddenly noticing Grace behind him, sword raised, her face covered in blood. Miya dodged around Pete and leapt, her boot smashing into Grace's face just as she began to bring her sword down. Grace screamed in pain and fell back, the cutlass dropping from her hand as she hit her head hard against the deck and lay still. Miya heard Pete roar again behind her, and she turned, bringing her sword up to block a blow that wasn't coming—it wasn't her that Badger Pete had attacked.

"NO!"

Pete's cutlass had gone through Sola's arm, the wide blade sticking through clear to the other side. Sola's spear fell from now-useless fingers, and he weakly tried to grasp for Pete's hand. With another roar, Pete placed his foot on Sola's chest and kicked him away, releasing his grip on the sword as he did so. Sola collapsed to the deck with a deep groan, the cutlass still stuck through his arm.

"Sola!"

"I'll ... live," he called, voice choked with pain. Miya saw him take a breath, as deep as he could, and then he roared, the power of it almost frightening: "FIGHT, SISTER!"

Miya growled and charged at Pete, but as she lunged at him he grabbed her sword by the blade, pulling hard and sending her staggering forward a few steps before she could recover. By the time she'd turned, Pete had picked up Grace's cutlass and was facing Miya once more.

"Running out of family, eh?" he said, blood dripping from his hand as he stepped towards Miya, his pace measured.

Miya raised her sword again, mind racing. How to fight him? How to fight him?

Pete swung his daughter's cutlass fast and hard at Miya's face, but she deflected it with only a ringing in her arms. Grace's cutlass is lighter than his was, she thought, he can't swing it as hard. Go with the direction of his strike. Don't resist, redirect. If I can goad him into—

Miya's thoughts were interrupted as Pete lunged suddenly. She tried to dodge as the cutlass came at her but it was too fast, too hard, and she caught it in her side, just a graze but a wide one along her ribs. She cried out and twisted away, slashing as she went, her sword swinging wide as Pete turned, brought his sword down again. This time Miya blocked, taking the full force of his blow in her arm, a sharp pain suddenly exploding in her shoulder.

"AH!"

"Cry out, wench."

Blinded by pain, Miya didn't see the blow coming, just felt an intense impact in the side of her face as Pete punched her. She staggered and coughed, tried to recover but too slow, too slow to see Pete raise his foot, too slow to jump back or to the side, too slow to do anything but take the full force of the kick directly in her chest.

Miya fell back, her sword slipping from her hand as she hit the wooden deck hard, sliding a few feet before stopping. She tried to force her body to get up, to roll to the side, something, but it felt as though her bones had turned to jelly, she had no strength, could only gasp out as she felt an immense weight on her chest. She coughed and looked up to see Pete standing over her.

"AHHH!" Miya couldn't help but cry out in anguish as Pete pushed down with his boot. The pressure was unbearable, the pain intense and crushing.

"Nose for a nose," growled Badger Pete, before slashing hard at Miya's face.

There was a cry, but it wasn't from Miya. Pete's sword hadn't cut her. She looked up, wide-eyed, to see a blood red sabre blocking the shining cutlass, just inches away from her face.

"You?" Pete laughed. Miya turned her head to see her mother, standing with Jean's sword in her hand, pain showing clear in her eyes. "What do you think you can do against me?"

Lilith stood firm, sword in hand, glowering at Pete.

"Get the
hell
away from my daughter," she growled.

"I'm not one of your subjects, 'your highness'. Royal commands won't work on me."

To illustrate his words, Pete pushed down on Miya's chest once more. She tried with everything she had not to make a sound, but the pain was too much and a kind of whimper escaped her mouth.

Lilith made a low, almost animal noise as she attacked, red sabre flashing—Pete hissed at the unexpected speed of the strike, bringing his cutlass up to just barely deflect it away from his neck, recoiling as Lilith opened a cut on his face, over his left eye. He growled and struck back, slashing at Lilith, who parried hard, forced back by the blow. He paused a moment, then took his foot off Miya's chest and moved towards Lilith, slashing out at her. She managed to dodge this, but left herself open to Pete's next attack, a savage kick to her knee. Miya gasped as she heard the awful crunching sound and saw her mother go sprawling, Jean's sabre clattering onto the deck.

"Ye need more than pretty words in a fight, 'Queen'," Pete growled, before turning back to Miya. While her mother had distracted Pete, Miya had managed to scramble over to her sword, gripping it tightly in her left hand as she struggled to her feet, head swimming, her left eye swollen, her left shoulder aching horribly, her right arm still bleeding, fingers in that hand slightly numb, breathing hard as she faced down the man who had pushed through every member of her family to get to her—but no, that wasn't right—

"JEAN." Miya's voice was flat and hard. She glared at her grandmother, who stood still, arms crossed, the only difference from before the absence of her sword.

"What do you want from me?" Jean asked, as Pete began towards Miya, cutlass at the ready. "You're the one with everything to fight for."

Miya scowled and struck at Pete, the sudden ferocity of the swing almost forcing him back, but he recovered in an instant and countered, forcing Miya to jump aside or be cut.

"YOUR home," said Jean, as Miya dodged another powerful swing.

"YOUR family," said Jean, as her granddaughter tried to counter, found her efforts thwarted.

"YOUR fight," said Jean, as Miya staggered back from parrying another of Pete's impossibly strong blows.

Jean Scarlet uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips.

"Show me your worth," she said.

Miya screamed her defiance as she launched herself at Pete, meeting his sword with her own and twisting, forcing it down, kicking up with her foot to catch him in the face. She followed this with another slash as she found her footing once more, pushing him back, attacking too fast for him to do anything but guard, until her sword bit into his arm and she slowed for an instant—that was all Pete needed, his boot lashing out, slamming into her leg and sending her stumbling.

"MIYA! SHOW HIM WHAT A PIRATE REALLY IS!"

Miya recovered and pushed forward, young face serious, ducking under Pete's blow and slashing at his side as she ran past him.

"Miya. Show him what a princess will do for her kingdom."

Miya spun and ran at Pete again, jumping over his swing and slamming her fist into his jaw before spinning away, elegantly leaping to avoid the wild blow he attempted to counter with.

And then suddenly he'd caught her, somehow had his hand around her boot. Miya kicked out with her other foot and caught him a glancing blow in the wrist, then drew her foot back and drove it into his gut, scrambling away as he lost his grip. But as he lost his grip so too did Miya lose something; her concentration was broken, her rhythm of attack lost. The pain in her arm and chest and face returned, the fatigue of the battle came rushing back, her sword was heavy in her hand, and she just wanted to sit down and give up.

"I DON'T GIVE UP!" she cried, raising her sword once more, Pete a few metres away.

"What's the matter, girl?" he asked, his breathing heavy. "Run out of family members to throw at me?"

He swung at her and she jumped back, her legs protesting as she did.

"Not got some magical cousin about to leap out of a box somewhere?"

Miya's attack was brushed aside with ease, Pete's counter heavy and brutal, almost catching Miya in the stomach.

"Or you're gonna tell me that your aunt's Scar Gillian, is that it?"

Pete kicked at Miya as she tried to attack, hitting her in the side of her shoulder and sending her stumbling for a few steps before she could recover.

"Face it girl," said Pete, as Miya stood panting, trying to regain her breath. "You've thrown everything ye've got at me. Your father's down, he can barely move. Same goes for yer bloody nuisance of a grandfather, lying there clutching his knee like an old man, which is all he is. Your brother's got a sword through his arm, don't think he'll be getting up in a hurry. Your mother proved she's got a lot of heart but nothing but that. Your grandmother there? She ain't gonna help you. That was clear from the start. Your pathetic, insignificant little island? Your precious 'subjects'? Don't see any of them coming to your rescue. Honestly, really, what've ye got left?"