Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates (3 page)

His eyes narrowed in irritation as
his gaze flicked around the godawful town in question.  “Bastards.”  He pointed
at her.  “What kind of uncivilized kingdom doesn’t have cupcakes?  It’s no
wonder its people are so deceitful.”  He held up a finger.  “First rule of
piracy, Dove:
never
trust a country that doesn’t have cupcakes.”

“This whole enterprise is going
sideways, Uriah.”  She turned so that he could see her face. 

“I couldn’t possibly agree more.” 
He shrugged.  “But I’m sure they must have
some kind
of dessert which…”

“
Forget about your fucking
cupcakes
.”  She snapped, cutting him off.  “We
still
have no ship. 
We’re
still
broke.  And your potential client is still nowhere to be
found.”

“Oh, we’ve been in worst shape than
this before.”  He waved a dismissive hand again as he caught up with her on the
road.  “You just always like to pretend that every little setback is the end of
the world.”  He rolled his eyes.  “You’re a catastrophist, Ransom, that’s what
you are.”

“It’s hard to be a pirate without a
ship, without a crew, and without something to steal.”  She reminded him.  “And
we have no other way of making a living.” 

“True, ‘Piratical Engineer: twenty
years ago to present’ doesn’t look too good on a resume.”  He conceded.  “But
on the other hand, I
do
interview very well.  I find that good people
skills are a more important asset than experience.  You have…”  He caught her
arm to stop her a moment.  “Oop, watch out for the severed head, Dove.”  He
casually kicked Stiller’s decapitated head to the side so that Ransom didn’t trip
over it, then returned to his thought.  “You have to really care about people,
you know?”

She pointed at her scarred face and
the blindfold which covered her ruined eyes.  “I’m not exactly an employer’s
first choice of new hires to begin with.”

He watched her silently for a
moment, then tenderly wiped a drop of her opponent’s blood from her cheek.  Her
skin was soft and warm and reminded him on the most basic of levels that he was
a
man
.

And that she represented everything
he had ever wanted… but could never have.

“You would be my first choice for anything
.”
 
His hand lingered on her face, seemingly of its own volition.  Like it was
incapable of tearing itself away from her.  “There will never be a time when I
pick someone or something over you.”  He swallowed.  “Ever.”

She opened her mouth to say
something, then stopped.  She turned away from him abruptly, clearing her
throat.  “Yeah… but you’re an idiot.  And it’s not like deciding to work with
you was the best business decision I ever made, anyway.”  She shook her head. 
“I need a job that actually
pays
.”

“Oh, come on!”  He called after her
playfully.  “We’re a team!”  He hurried after her.  “What’s money between
friends?”

Five Years Ago

“Keep your ‘friendship,’ all I want
is the gold.”  Uriah told the other captain bluntly.  “You can take the cargo
and whatever else you find.”

Captain Rowland considered that for
a moment.  “The prize is already in my hands, Uriah.”  He pointed at the ship
in question.  “I fail to see why you and your men deserve anything.”

At the moment, Uriah was standing
on the deck of his ship,
The Deceitful Whore
, watching as Rowland’s men
cleared the last of their quarry’s defenders away.

The battle had been going on for
quite some time now, and by the look of it, most of the soldiers on the enemy
craft were dead.

For her part,
The Deceitful
Whore
had played no real role in the chase or the taking of the ship, but
good manners dictated that Uriah and his men should get
something
for
their effort, even if they’d done little more than stumble upon the action
already in progress.

Or at least, that was Uriah’s take
on it anyway.  The actual procedure used by pirates in situations like this
really didn’t matter to him.

Uriah was a greedy man, generally
unconcerned with the feelings of others, especially when the “others” in
question happened to be his fellow pirates.  In his opinion, he was entitled to
whatever he could
take
.  And life had given him the ability to take
quite a bit.

“My men and I deserve a share
because we’re asking you
nicely,
Rowland.”  Uriah eyed the man seriously,
keeping his tone level.  “I hope you understand the difficulty I would have
explaining to my men that, yes, a valuable ship was taken, but they will have
nothing to show for it because
you
had already claimed it all.”  He
paused for a moment.  “That wouldn’t make them happy, Rowland.”  He slowly
turned his gaze to glance at Rowland’s ship, which was essentially a sitting
duck for the
Whore
’s
cannons, then back at the other captain. 
“Angry men are unpredictable.”

“That’s extortion, Uriah.”  Rowland
gasped.

Uriah held up a finger to make a
correction.  “I prefer to think of it as: ‘a compulsory gift.’”

“I have
other
ships.” 
Rowland gestured to the vessels joining him in his fight against the prize he’d
just taken.  “Ships which would open fire on
you
in return, should you
move against me.”  He countered.  “You’d be sunk.”

“Possibly.”  Uriah nodded, unable
to disagree on that point.  “But how would that help you not to be dead?”

Uriah had arrived on the scene,
full of smiles and well wishes for his fellow pirate.  But he had also
deliberately
placed the
Whore
precisely where she was, poised to rip the guts out of
Rowland’s flagship and blast the man himself straight to the afterlife.

Uriah was a thief… but he wasn’t
stupid.

Rowland was silent for a moment,
then burst out in laughter.  “You greedy little bastard!”  He slapped Uriah on
the back.  “I’ll give you 5%-- which considering this score, is enough to make
you rich-- as long as you promise to return the favor one day.”

“Absolutely.”  Uriah nodded
pleasantly in agreement.  “You have my word of honor.”

But Uriah had absolutely
no
intention
of ever returning the favor.  None. 

What he took, he kept.  He’d sink
it to the bottom of the sea before he ever shared it with
anyone
.

He was a greedy, selfish, and
possessive man.  He always had been.

But Rowland didn’t need to know
that.

The other captain clapped him on
the back again.  “Come, my boy.  Let’s go inspect the prize I’ve caught.”

Uriah tried to keep the distaste
from showing on his face.  He couldn’t stand Rowland.  Despite the man’s
apparent friendly disposition, he was a bottom-feeder.  Rowland was a slaver
who attacked unarmed civilian ships and sold their passengers into servitude,
but only after mistreating all the women and girls.  He took time off from that
charming little hobby to steal medical supplies from relief convoys and
generally profit any way he could off the suffering of others.

Uriah didn’t really believe in
that.  Which was probably why Rowland was making money hand over fist off this
war, while Uriah languished in obscurity.

But no matter.

Even 5% of
this
catch would
be enough to keep him in the good graces of his crew for the foreseeable
future.  He had no idea how even
Rowland
had managed to track and overpower
a ship that size though. 

The warship in question loomed over
the waves like a fortress, flying the Adithian flag. 

Uriah also wasn’t sure what a ship
from the Southern Isles was doing this far north, but luckily, none of that mattered.

Because either way, he was about to
get paid.

And Uriah
loved
getting
paid.

He found that gold had the most
wonderful
ability to quiet any lingering moral uncertainties about the circumstances of
the gold’s arrival into his life.  Gold was the most persuasive talker in the
world.

Rowland started back towards the
gangway which stretched between his ship and the
Whore
.  “Frankly, I’m
rather surprised that you got here so quickly.”  The man told him conversationally. 
“We didn’t even get word of this until the day before yesterday.”

“Word of what?”  Uriah asked, not
really caring but wanting to stay on the man’s good side so that Uriah wasn’t
forced to kill him.

That would be awkward.

Rowland pointed to their quarry. 
“Got word of her through the regular channel and tracked her down with the
greatest possible speed.”  He nodded in appreciation.  “It speaks well of you
that you almost beat us here though.”  He pursed his lips in thought.  “Did you
get the letter early or something?”

Uriah was silent for a beat as he
tried to decide his best course of action.  “Something like that.”  He agreed,
trying to be as cryptic as possible.

In actuality, he had stumbled upon
this battle through sheer happenstance.  Uriah had no idea what the other man
was talking about, but decided that it was best to pretend like he did.

“What did
your
letter say?” 
Uriah hedged, trying to see what fount of potential criminal schemes he was
missing out on and just how he could go about being added to this mysterious
benefactor’s mailing list.  “I’m curious what took
you
so long?  If we
are getting different letters and different information, I think that’s
something we both need to know, so that we don’t get played for fools by our…
mutual friend.”

Rowland laughed good-naturedly.  “
That’s
the right attitude.  Excellent point.”  The other captain commended.  “I
see great things in your future, boy.  You might just be starting out, but
stick with me and I’ll show you the ropes of this business.  Show you how it’s
done.”

Uriah’s hand fisted at his side and
he silently reminded himself that he couldn’t simply kill the man and be done
with him.

Uriah was by
no means
an
amateur at this.  True, he hadn’t been doing it as long as Rowland had, but he’d
been a pirate for quite some time.  Longer than most.  And he’d been fighting
and killing his entire life.  Certainly for more years than Rowland, when all
was said and done.

The only “rope” he wanted anywhere
near Rowland was a hangman’s noose.  He couldn’t
stand
the man.  Rowland
was a butcher and a bully.  He was everything wrong with piracy and the world
itself.

Uriah was a killer and a thief, but
that didn’t mean he had to be a jerk about it.

Rowland
got off
on being a
jerk about it.  That was his entire reason for going into piracy in the first
place.  He didn’t want to be rich or free; he simply liked having power over
weaker people.

Uriah was an asshole.  Rowland was
a monster.

Rowland was charming and he smiled
at all the right times, but the man was a monster all the same.  And he’d
helped school an entire generation of pirates to be just like him.  A beloved
mentor and treasured friend to half the psychopaths who worked in the industry,
sharing with them the cruelties and horrors which brightened his day and made
him rich.

Uriah didn’t believe in putting
people in chains.  He didn’t believe in killing the innocent.  Robbing them? 
Sure.  Holding them for ransom?  Absolutely.  But not killing them.  If Uriah
robbed you, it was because you could afford to be robbed.  If he killed you, it
was because you needed killing.

Rowland did the opposite.

Uriah thought Rowland took things
too far.  And generally speaking, if even someone from the Grizzwood thought
you were taking things too far, you were
incredibly
out of line.

Rowland approached the railing and
looked out over the water towards his new prize.  “Huh.”  He frowned.  “Looks
like the men aren’t quite done mopping up yet.”

Uriah joined him at the railing.

Rowland had at least a hundred men
in his private pirate armada, so the news that they hadn’t yet overpowered
resistance on the vessel was rather surprising.  They should have finished with
the fighting and been well on their way to emptying their prize’s cargo by now.

Uriah leaned against the familiar wooden
railing of his ship, trying to see what the problem was.

“I think,” Rowland strained his
eyes to see the action, “it’s just… that little bitch?”  It came out sounding
like a question, almost surprised by the sight.

Uriah nodded in agreement, spotting
a woman as she battled her way up the stairs to the quarter deck of the Adithian
craft.  “Yep.”

The female soldier was wielding a
bow and seemed to be giving her opponents a bit of trouble.  Much more than
Uriah would have expected, given the number and skills of Rowland’s crew

She stabbed a man in the face with
an arrow, then promptly fit it into her bow and shot another attacker with it. 
All of which was done in the time it took Uriah to blink twice.

“Huh.”  Uriah said again, unable to
think of anything else.  He was too amazed to think clearly at the moment.

“Just kill her already!”  Rowland
yelled at the men, apparently losing his patience.  “Kill the bitch and toss
her corpse in the hold for the trip back!  And do it quickly, dammit!  I want
my prize!”

Another wave of attackers surged
forward, straight into the woman’s line of fire.

She cut them down even faster than she
had the others, her hand a whirl of motion as it flashed from quiver to string,
quiver to string, effortlessly hitting Rowland’s men like stationary targets on
the archery range.

“Send the rest!”  Rowland bellowed. 
“Send everyone, I don’t give a shit!”

His screams attracted the woman’s
attention though and she turned in one smooth motion to aim at them.

“That bitch is
dreamin’
if
she thinks she can hit us at this distance.”  Rowland scoffed.  “And with this
crosswind?”  He made a dismissive sound.  “
Pft
.”

Uriah’s eyes locked with the
woman’s.

His life had given him the ability
to immediately size up an opponent and understand what they were capable of. 
It was really the only way to stay alive in the violent hellhole which was his
homeland.

And in that moment… he knew.

Not only
could
she hit him,
she was
going to.

She let loose the arrow and Uriah
dove to the side, dodging it by inches.  The deadly projectile instead hit one
of Rowland’s men in the neck as he walked up behind Uriah.  The man then
toppled overboard, carrying a serving tray of tea with him.

Uriah frowned in irritation.

That had been
his
tea
kettle.

He crouched down behind one of the
cannons, trying to stay out of her line of fire.

Undaunted, the woman aimed her next
arrow high into the air so that it arched in from above him.  He swore again
and rolled to the side to avoid it, just in time to meet a third arrow the
woman had somehow managed to shoot through the narrow opening between the posts
of the deck rail.  The projectile glanced off the metal surface of the cannon,
changing direction so that it went directly into his back, just below the
shoulder blade.

He cursed, toppling onto the wooden
deck, trying desperately to pull the arrow free, but finding that she had
placed it in the perfect spot so that he couldn’t reach it.

That shot was
impossible.

Uriah had been around warriors his
entire life and there was
no one
who could have hit him from that distance
and angle.

“Holy shit!”  He gasped in utter
amazement, the grievous wound almost forgotten.  “
She made that shot!
” 
He pointed at the woman.  “Ha!”  He put his head back, laughing in hysteria,
amazement, and considerable pain.  “
HA!
  Did you see that!?!”  He asked
rhetorically, not really caring if Rowland had actually survived the arrow
barrage or not, but feeling like someone else should bear witness to the
woman’s feat.  “Did you fucking
see that!?!
” 

“I see that she got you pretty
good, yeah.  You should get that seen to right now.  Looks bad.”  Rowland
agreed, not sounding
nearly
as amazed as he should have been by the
woman’s accomplishment.

But Uriah didn’t care.

This wasn’t about Rowland.

Fuck him if he couldn’t appreciate
an artist.

Uriah hauled himself to his feet,
stooping slightly in pain.  Rationally, he knew he should stay where he was,
but he felt honor bound to stand back up.  He removed his hat and held it out
to the woman in genuine respect.  The action caused the pain from the arrow in
his back to become even more
excruciating,
but Uriah didn’t care.  This
was a matter of professional pride.  He believed in giving credit where credit
was due, and the woman had effortlessly removed him from the fight.  She’d simply
beaten him.  Straight up.