Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates (17 page)

She was quiet for a moment, trying
to decide if he was joking or not, then made a small sound somewhere between
laughter and a whimper of pain.  “Asshole.”

He grinned, overjoyed to see her do
something other than shake uncontrollably and cower from him.  “So, are you
going to let me try to close those wounds?”

“I’m fine.”  She insisted, made
horrifically ironic by the blood running down her face in rivers as she said
the words.  “And even if I’m not, I can do it myself.  I’m not helpless.”

“Needing help doesn’t make you
helpless.  It just means you need help.”

She didn’t respond to that and he
could tell that she’d let him try to sew up her face without a struggle.

“Thank you.”  He sat down beside
her.  “You’re really not going to regret letting me live, miss.”

“Too late.”

****

Four Months Later

She didn’t know what the sun looked
like when it was setting.

Strangely, she knew it
did
set,
and she could usually sense when it was day or night, but she had no memory of
actually watching it set.

She knew it was beautiful though.

At the moment, she was sitting
cross-legged on the beach, looking out over what was doubtlessly a beautiful
sunset.

It wasn’t that she really cared, it
was just… strange to realize that it was happening in front of her and she
couldn’t tell.

There were parts of the world she
would never really understand.  Everyone else was essentially living a
different kind of existence than she was.  A separate species, concerning
themselves with things utterly foreign to her.

Proud of their looks.

Jealous over the appearance of
things.

Living in a sighted world.

To her, her position on the beach
consisted entirely of the fresh sea breeze in her face, the feeling of the
fading sun on her skin, and the sand between her toes.  The rustle of the trees
behind her.  The sound of birds high above her.  The taste of salt in the air.

It was nice.  To her, it was far
more beautiful than seeing the sunset probably was.

The world was so much bigger than
what people saw.

Despite her idyllic surroundings
however, she was still marooned here.  And she still had no idea who she was.

But much like her blindness, she
found that was a surprisingly easy thing to come to terms with.  Sure, it was
odd and sometimes felt wrong, but it wasn’t something she was especially scared
about.

It was a small thing to forget who
you were, just so long as you understood who you are.

And she had an excellent sense of
self.

She found sitting on the beach and quietly
thinking to be surprisingly enjoyable.

Unfortunately, her fellow castaway
did not.  He was always puttering around, doing things with his typical manic enthusiasm,
but he just made her tired.

He’d spent months concocting an
elaborate means of escape from their island.  She didn’t really understand that
either.  She was perfectly happy here.

And at least three times a week, he
busied himself by setting up strange targets around the beach and then tried to
hack at them all as quickly as possible.  It was a strange ritual, which she
didn’t entirely understand and didn’t feel comfortable asking about.  He as
always fighting a battle he was destined to loose, it seemed.  Again and again.

She wasn’t scared of Uriah, by any
means, but his little pastime seemed to be a personal thing and she didn’t get
involved.

Whatever it was about, it usually
ended in screams of rage.  Or tears.  Sometimes both.

Today was no exception and the
man’s bellows of pure fury at once again failing his personal test, drowned out
the gentle sounds of the birds and waves.

“Goddammit!”  He screamed, slashing
at one of his mysterious wooden poles he’d set up.  “Every fucking time!”

She decided not to ask him what
that meant.

“I almost had it that time!”  He
violently broke the pole which had thwarted his effort, the sound of cracking
wood filling her ears.  “I can get the first ten of them, but it’s that fucking
one on the left that…  He’s always…”  He trailed off, his voice catching.  “I
need another sword.”  He decided suddenly, as if having an epiphany.  “If I had
two
swords, I could block him and attack the other man at the same
time.”  He whispered.  “Yes… yes.” 

She nodded and made a noncommittal
sound, afraid if she got too involved in his issues he’d start crying.  She had
no idea how to deal with that.  The man spent entirely too much time with his
internal obsession.  Whatever was going on… the guilt was eating him up.

She suspected it probably had
something to do with the reason for their arrival on this island… and her
blindness, but she didn’t want to talk about that.

He trudged over to her and stuck
the sword into the sand close to her, still worried that she’d worry about him
being armed around her. 

He was an idiot sometimes.

“I think it was that second wave
that did it.”  He decided analytically.  “If I could have stopped them, the
next would have fallen easily.  But I have to kill the man on the left within
the first thirty seconds or he’ll grab me every time.”

She ignored him, trying to listen
to the waves.

“Don’t you think?”  He asked her,
apparently seeking a genuine answer.

“I don’t remember.”  She reminded
him again.

He was silent for a moment, stewing
over that idea.  “Horse shit.”  He proclaimed.  “You know exactly what’s going
on here.  Don’t give me any of that ‘amnesia’ nonsense.  You just don’t want me
to recognize the fact that you’re worth a lot of money to someone.  Because let
me tell you, my little Ransom,
no one
lets someone who looks like you
out of their sight for long.”

“Asshole.”  She spat out.  She
wasn’t sure what her face looked like, but she didn’t like being called a
monster who people would fear to turn their backs on.

“Huh?”  He seemed confused by that
for some reason.  “No, no, the point is that ransoming you is going to make me
a whole lot of money.  I just need to wait around until someone shows up to
claim you.  And then?  I’m on easy street.”

“And if no one shows up?”  She
asked calmly.

“Someone will show up.”  He assured
her confidently.  “Trust me, someone will show for you.”

She had told him time and time again
that she couldn’t remember anything about herself, and it wasn’t that Uriah
thought she was lying, it was just that he… was bored.

They were both bored.

So, they spent most of their time
arguing about the huge reward he would be getting or accusing each other of
being part of some vast conspiracy which caused them to become castaways here.  

It was something to do to pass the
time.

It was actually kind of fun.

Usually.

Today however, she was feeling
rather upset.

He noticed her pensiveness and sat
down beside her.  “What’s wrong?”  He turned to face her, sounding concerned. 
“You seem like you’re quietly seething even more than usual today.”

“I’m… I’m afraid.”  She announced. 
“I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“With the boat?”  He turned to look
to where he’d docked the wrecked craft he’d been trying to restore for several
months.  He’d located it in pieces on the far side of the island and it had
taken a lot of work to get the small ship ready for the open seas again.  “I
assure you, although she might not look it, she’ll get us back to
civilization.”

“I can’t see the boat anyway,
Uriah.  It could be made of bricks and anvils, and I wouldn’t know it.”  She
let out a sigh.  “I just… I don’t know what’s going to happen.”  She gestured
to their surroundings.  “This is all I know.  All I can remember.  Every memory
I have… good and bad… happened here.  Everyone I’ve ever met.  Everything I’ve
ever done.  It’s all been here.  I’m… I’m scared.  This is the only home I
know.”

He obviously hadn’t considered that
before and didn’t reply.

They stared out over the sea in
silence, one enjoying the beautiful sunset and the other the feel of the sun on
her skin.

“Does that mean that you don’t want
to leave?”  He asked softly.  “Because the seasons are changing and I’m afraid
food might be an issue soon.  Right now, we have enough to stockpile it for a
journey, but that might not last.”

“Speaking of which,” she reached
down to a small pen made from sticks which were tied together, “I caught this
in one of the traps this morning.”

“I’ve never seen one of those.”  He
leaned closer to it.  “It’s weird.  And colorful.  What is it?”

She shrugged.  “Beats me.”

“Huh.”  He said appraisingly.  “It
looks like a clever little thing though.  What should be call it?”

“Dinner.”

“You can’t eat it!”  He protested,
trying to grab the cage from her.  “It’s just a little bird… monkey…
cat-looking thing!  And it could be the last of its kind!”

“This world is filled with things
that are the last of their kind, Uriah.  And I can eat this one.”

He made a disapproving sound. 

She groaned in annoyance, already
seeing that this was a losing argument for her.  “Please stop befriending our
food!”  She crossed her arms over her chest.  “I don’t want to starve because
you always feel the need to adopt our meals.”

“We’re not going to starve, because
we’re not going to be staying here for more than another night.”

“I guess.”  She agreed.  “But let’s
keep it in the cage, just in case.”

He made a face at her.  She could
tell somehow, just recognizing that he’d react that way. 

She flashed him a profane finger
gesture.

He chuckled, enjoying the game.

“You ready?”  She stood up and
started brushing the sand from her legs.

“I suppose.”  He sounded distracted
over something, taking an inordinate interest in what she was doing.  “You sure
you’re ready to go?”

“I guess.”  She was quiet for a
minute.  “What… what if no one comes for me, Uriah?”  She finally asked him.  “What
if I never get my memory back, even after we get off this island?”

It wasn’t that she cared… it was
just that here she had a place.  Here she had a reason.  Someone to talk to.  Once
back in civilization, she’d have nothing.

“Well,” he stood up so that he was
standing beside her, “then I guess we’ll have to think of something else to do,
won’t we, Ransom?”  He’d taken to calling her that several months ago, and she
hadn’t bothered to tell him to stop.  She actually rather liked it.  It seemed
fitting somehow.  “Because I see no reason why our partnership has to end
simply because we’re no longer marooned together.  I currently find myself
without a quartermaster.”

“What do they do?”

“Basically everything.”

“Good, because you’re an idiot.”

“Very true.”  He cleared his
throat.  “Listen, I don’t know what’s going to happen when we reach civilization
again.  And I don’t know if your memory will ever come back.  But I know I
won’t push you to remember if you don’t want to.  I won’t tell you who you are
and I won’t tell you who you were, because I honestly don’t know.  I won’t
treat you like you’re damaged simply because you’re blind.  Or like an idiot
because you have memory problems.  Or like you’re helpless, just because you
might need help sometimes.”  He shifted on his feet.  “I need a partner because
my last one tried to kill us.  So… I guess that’s what I’m offering, if you’ll
take it.  My people say that when you’ve bled with someone… when you’ve been
through hell together… you’re bonded to them.  You’re… together, from that
point on.  And yeah, sometimes they interpret that to mean ‘only one of you can
survive, so start trying to kill each other,’ but I think in this case it means
that…”  He trailed off, rephrasing the offer.  “I’ve never had a friend.  Not
in my whole life.  But I think I can be a good one.  And there will never a
moment in our partnership where you’re not calling the shots on what happens in
your life.”

She thought the matter over and
realized it was exactly what she’d been quietly hoping for.  Life on the island
had kept them together and she’d been terrified about her only window to the
world being lost.  Her only… friend.

She liked him.  He was funny.  And
capable.  And he made her feel…

And she didn’t want to lose that. 
Selfishly, she needed him to help her get through life… but he kinda needed her
too.  The man made
terrible
decisions, after all.

Plus, she just…
liked him
for some reason.  Being around him made her happy.

“Okay.”  She nodded.  “I can do
that.”

“No matter what happens, you will
always have a place with me, okay?”  He gently took her hand and led the way
back to their makeshift camp area.  This would be the last night here before
striking out onto the seas tomorrow morning.  He stopped in his tracks before
they got to their camp though, obviously stewing about something.  “I know you
don’t know who I am, Ransom.  But I’ll show you.”  He promised softly, making a
vow.  “One day… I’ll show you.”

Present Day

Uriah hated Adithia.  With the
exception of his partner, this island had produced nothing of any worth.  The
whole place was just… bad.  It was hot and crowded and the people were overly
proud and vainglorious assholes.  They were self-important and believed
everything they did was better than what anyone else had ever done or would
ever do.  Adithian music was grating, their politics classified as war
atrocities anywhere else, and their navy was the nemesis of every pirate who
had ever sailed.  They treated every conversation as a desperate scramble to
think well of themselves, anyone who disagreed with them on anything had just
made an enemy for life, and they had no sense of humor.  At all.

Their architecture was pretty, he’d
give them that, but even then, after a while all the buildings looked the
same.  Turrets, columns, and buildings all carved from the sandstone.  It was
pretentious and ostentatious, designed for the sole purpose of looking
expensive.  Rich people trying to show that they were richer and more cultured
than all the other rich people.  Everything had to be hand-painted and gilded,
or covered with sparkly silks.  They overcomplicated everything, simply because
they thought it somehow made them classier and showed everyone how amazing they
were.  They imported products from other kingdoms but strangely hated the
cultures which had produced them.  And even when they tried to be humble, it
was about being
more
humble than the other guy.  They had to make
sure
you knew how humble they were, going so far as to compete for awards on who was
the
most
humble.

The whole place was annoying.  He
was from a land where you were considered rich if you had shoes.

Adithia made him feel out of place.

Not that he was one to pay a lot of
attention to city planning or interior design, but he still always felt…
watched
on this island.  It wasn’t a place where you felt free or had any kind of fun,
especially if you were an ‘Outsider.’  Adithians
hated
Outsiders, even
before the war, particularly ones from kingdoms they saw as less civilized than
themselves… which was pretty much everywhere.  Strictly speaking, the only
place on the island you were likely to see an Outsider was in one of the
brothels, all of which were strictly controlled and regimented, ensuring that
everything was utterly joyless and that none of the captive foreign women
escaped into the general population.  But even the whores had a higher social
status than Uriah did in this city. 

If you weren’t Adithian, you
hurriedly went about your business here and got out as quickly as possible,
before your invitation got revoked and the “Gardeners” called in.

Adithia’s police force was well-known
in the world as being the worst of the worst, especially to pirates and
dissidents.  They were always looking to add new decorations to the palace
grounds.  Sometimes, he wondered if the kingdom would run out of citizens
first, or the silver to drown them in.

Uriah also lived in constant fear
that someone from this cursed place would one day appear and try to steal
Ransom away from him.  He had no idea why they would, but he was a paranoid
soul at heart.  Not only was she a pirate, but she was also an Adithian soldier,
absent without leave, and they didn’t really take too kindly to desertion. 
They killed you for that here.  In fact, they killed you for a lot of things
here.  As such, he avoided all contact with the Adithians or anyone else who
might be able to identify her as being a fugitive.

For her part, Ransom seemed equally
willing to forgo any interaction with her people.  He didn’t know her precise
reasoning behind her part of their mutual decision, but he suspected she was as
afraid as he was of what might happen.

He couldn’t lose her.

He simply couldn’t.

He needed her too much.

In the current situation though,
his choices were to either leave her on the ship or take her with him.  And
Uriah
always
wanted her beside him.  For one thing, the woman was a
remarkable asset to have in any kind of crisis, but more importantly, if the
Adithians
did
decide to try to reclaim their lost countrywoman or punish
her for her desertion, he wanted to be there to stop them.

Not that he really expected
anything bad to happen today with the Adithians, but generally he found it best
to prepare for your plan going to shit.  Because it usually did, particularly
when it was
his
plan.  If you came at everything in life from that
standpoint, you could only be pleasantly surprised.

And in Uriah’s world, Ransom being
taken away was literally the worst thing which could possibly happen.

They made their way down the street
and Uriah tried his best to both blend in and to watch every single person who
walked past them, just in case they suddenly attacked.

“You’re quiet.”  His partner
observed.  “Whenever you haven’t said something stupid for this long, I know
you’re saving up for something that’s
really
going to piss me off.”  She
was silent for a moment, apparently giving him an opportunity to speak.  “Come
on, out with it.”

“Just keep your head down, okay?” 
He kept his voice low, trying not to speak loudly enough for anyone to notice
his accent.  It was bad enough that everyone in this city could take one look
at him and instantly see he wasn’t from here, but he couldn’t really do
anything about that.  His voice though, he could try to disguise.  “If
something goes wrong, remember: you’re an Adithian.”  He cautioned, turning to
face her as they continued down the road.  “Just walk away.  Don’t run, don’t
fight,
don’t
wait for me.  Just calmly walk clear and blend into the
crowd.”  He stopped on the sidewalk.  “Understand?”

She snorted in dismissal.  “Now
you’re assuming that I’m not the one that turned you in for the reward myself.” 
She teased, a lopsided smile crossing her face.  “You gotta have a price on
your head here, right?  I mean, that little bureaucrat we ran into in Cormoran
sure wanted you bad.”

Technically, the woman had been far
more interested in Ransom than Uriah, but he didn’t feel the need to remind his
partner of that.

“Just… promise me.”  He swallowed. 
“If this goes bad… for whatever reason… you get clear.  I will deal with it
alone.”

She was silent for a moment, her
smile disappearing.  “I’m… I’m not useless, Uriah.”  She told him softly.

“I didn’t say you were useless, I
just want…”

 “Forget it.”  She snapped, cutting
him off.  She started down the street again.  “Let’s just pick up the old woman
and get out of here.”

“My sentiments exactly.”  He
agreed, hurrying to catch up with her.  “I believe that she lives right around
this next corner.”  He reached out to take her elbow and guide her along the
street.

She yanked away from him, obviously
upset over something.  “I can do it!”

“I know you can do it.”  He rolled
his eyes.  “I’ve never once said you couldn’t do anything!”  He defended, a
little too loudly. 

Several Adithain women were sitting
on a nearby bench and they looked up at him in disgust, recognizing his accent
and seeing that he didn’t belong in their proud city.  The women here were the
guardians of the strict Adithian code of conduct.  They looked prim, cold, and
restrained, but they were silently cataloging your every flaw and preparing a
list of charges to level against you when you were called before the Gardeners
to explain yourself.

He swore softly and tried to move
down the street quickly, before the women had a chance to summon someone to
investigate what an Outsider was doing in their otherwise “perfect” city.

“Sure sounded like it.”  Ransom countered.

“Is this going to be one of those
conversations where you deliberately misinterpret my words so that they conform
to your own preconceived notions of what
you
think I’m thinking? 
Because if it is, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to pass on that, thank you. 
You can just have a misunderstanding with
yourself
, because I’m not
interested.”  He shook his head.  “I’ve learned when you’re in one of these
moods, it’s best not to even try to make you see reason.”

“No, this is going to be one of
those conversations where you say something that’s really stupid and I call you
on it, and then you get upset because you realize that I’m right.”  She
corrected.

“You usually are.”  He nodded in
agreement.  “But not in this instance.”  He took her elbow again and this time
she didn’t pull away.  “We are
partners,
Dove.  Which means that you do
the lion’s share of the work and I take the credit for it.”

She paused to consider that, then
nodded.  “That’s about the shape of it, yeah.”

He gently tapped her shoulder with
the back of his hand.  “You’re always trying to create some kind of
disagreement or misunderstanding between us, but there simply isn’t one. 
That’s not who we are.”  He pressed a finger to his temple.  “We’re usually of
one mind on most issues.”

“And yet here we are.”  She
observed, gesturing to their surroundings.  “Which still makes no sense to me.”

“What’s to understand?”  He
frowned.  “We’re doing the job we were hired for.”

She arched an eyebrow.  “It seems
like we’re getting involved here.”  Her voice darkened.  “I hate getting
involved.”

He scoffed and gently guided her
around the corner, careful to hide her face from a passing merchant, just in
case the man might somehow recognize her.  “We’re not ‘getting involved,’ we’re
merely picking up our client’s wife’s mother and escorting her back to the
ship, that’s all.”

“How is that not getting involved?”

“We’re talking about one old woman
and a mile walk through one of the most beautiful cities in the world.”  He
laughed with what he hoped didn’t sound like a nervous chuckle.  “What could
possibly go wrong?”

“The last time you asked me that,
we were almost executed.”  She reminded him dryly.

“But we weren’t, were we?”  He
smiled broadly.  “Which means, big picture, nothing went wrong.” 

“Your idea of a ‘big picture’ isn’t
even just a ‘big’ picture anymore.  It’s a fucking
wall mural
.”

He put his arm around her shoulders,
ushering her towards the street they were looking for.  “You worry too much.  I
have this entirely under control.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are we finally there?”  Ryle
called tiredly from half a block behind them.  “Because I’m tired of walking. 
It’s just too damn hot here.”

Uriah winced.

He’d honestly forgotten all about
Ryle and the lad’s complaints were far too loud.  His accent and appearance didn’t
fit into this kingdom any better than Uriah’s did.

They had the wrong complexion, the
wrong accent, the wrong style of dress, and they spoke the wrong language.

And yelling about it so that the
entire block was alerted to that fact wasn’t helping matters.

Uriah spun around and made a
shushing noise.  “Shut up, Ryle!”  He whispered urgently.  “Or the next words
out of your mouth will be muffled by the molten silver poured down your
throat.”

A man wearing the ceremonial robes
of an Adithian banker stopped on the sidewalk and looked Uriah up and down
critically.

Uriah tipped his hat to him
cordially.  “Lovely day, isn’t it?”  He tried, trying to sound nonchalant and
friendly.

The banker frowned, looking unhappy
about seeing an Outsider loose on the streets of his pristine and homogeneous
capital.  One could argue that he was just staying vigilant since his country
was at war, but it actually had more to do with the fact that the Adithians
were generally xenophobic bastards.  If you weren’t
them
, you were
worthless.  Anything or anyone different than them was, by definition,
inferior.  They were in love with their own self-described excellence; drunk on
national pride.

The banker looked at Ransom,
recognizing her as one of his countrywomen.  “Is this Outsider scum bothering
you, sister?”  He asked in formal Adithian, his eyes flicking back to Uriah
again, obviously waiting for Uriah to suddenly grow tentacles and start
rampaging through the picturesque downtown area.  “I would be glad to stay with
you until the Gardeners arrive to haul this…
thing
away.”

Ransom kept walking, as if the man
wasn’t even worth her time.  “Oh, just fuck off.”  She bit out in Adithian,
sounding more bored than angry.  “It’s too hot.”

Uriah watched her go, then turned
to face the man again.  “Women.”  He shrugged.  “They’re a mystery in any
kingdom, am I right?”

The man’s eyes narrowed in fury and
he stormed off.

Uriah shook his head in disgust as
the man disappeared around the corner.  “And after I wished you a lovely day
too.”  He told the street at large, making a tsk-ing sound with his tongue. 
“What has happened to manners on this island?”

“Why?  What’d he say?”  Ryle asked
them, sounding interested.  “I don’t speak that language.”

“We’ll tell you when you’re
older.”  Uriah condescendingly patted him on his head.  “It’s not for a child’s
ears.”

Ryle swatted his hand away.  “Don’t
touch me, kidnapper.”  He pointed a finger at him.  “Just because we’re stuck
on arguably the world’s most uncomfortable island together, doesn’t mean that
I’ve forgotten that
you’re
the one who dragged me here in the first
place!”

“
Please
suffer in silence.” 
Uriah advised, catching up with his partner and putting his arm around her
shoulders again.  Ostensibly, the habitual action was to help his partner
navigate, but in reality, he just liked being close to her.  He genuinely liked
touching that woman, and it was one of the few opportunities available to him
without violating her personal space boundaries.