Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns (21 page)

"Having trouble?" he asked, dripping blood onto the deck from his injured hand. Miya flicked her sword to clean it of his blood, then resumed her fighting stance.

"Come at me," she said. "If you have the heart."

Badtooth growled and advanced on Miya, cutlass at the ready.

"You're losing blood," said Miya, slashing at Badtooth's sword hand, forcing him to block. "Sure you can keep going?"

"This?" Badtooth held up his wounded hand. "More strength than weakness."

To demonstrate he flung his bloody hand out, splattering Miya's face. As she recoiled he lunged forward, slashing hard. Miya tried to dodge but she wasn't quick enough, Badtooth's cutlass opening a gash in her right shoulder.

"AH!" Miya cried out, icy pain shooting through her as she staggered back.

"Sharper than she looks, ain't she? Ready to yield, lass?"

Miya stood clutching at her wound, breathing hard, pain showing clear on her face.

"Ye have the look of a cove that's never been cut," said Badtooth. "Hurtin'?"

Miya gulped down a breath, then straightened and wiped her hand on her shirt, leaving a long bloody streak.

"My turn," she growled, throwing her sword from right hand to left as she leapt towards Badtooth, spinning and striking as hard as she could.

"Have to do better than that, lass," Badtooth laughed, as Miya missed, stumbled, and overbalanced. She spun and launched herself at him again, slashing at his legs, but he stepped aside and punched Miya hard on her wounded shoulder, forcing another cry of pain out of her as she staggered away. She whipped her head around to see Badtooth coming at her again and brought her sword awkwardly up to block his savage overhead strike, the force of the blow making her stagger back as their swords locked. Miya gritted her teeth together, grunting as she pushed back against Badtooth's sword with all her strength, her shoulder burning with pain.

"GAH!" Miya cried out as Badtooth forced her to her knees.

"Yield, lass," he hissed, his face red behind his beard. "There ain't no shame in givin' up if'n ye know ye're beaten."

"I do NOT give up," Miya growled, pushing back as hard as she could—then her eyes widened as she saw movement behind Badtooth.

"Stop!" she yelled.

Sola had stepped forward, his hand on his spear, ready to jump in to help. He stopped at Miya's yell as Badtooth's crew raised their weapons.

"Miya—"

"THERE! ARE! RULES!" Miya yelled, summoning all the strength in her small body and pushing Badtooth back, just enough to break the lock and roll to the side.

"Aye!" Badtooth shouted, as Miya regained her footing. "Unready those weapons! This be a duel between captains!"

Miya was breathing hard now, tired and in pain, warm, sticky blood seeping down her arm, her white shirt stained crimson. Sweat glistened on her face, her bandanna damp with it. Badtooth didn't seem to be in much better shape—although he didn't show any signs of being in pain he was breathing hard, his face was red, and his movements had slowed considerably.

"I see it," whispered Miya. She took a good gulp of air, and blinked the sweat from her eyes. "I see it."

She launched another attack, not as fierce as before, testing Badtooth's defences. His parry was strong, but not as arm-jarringly overwhelming as those previous. Miya pressed the attack, striking again and again, Badtooth parrying each blow easily, the ringing of their swords loud and regular. Miya tried a feint, but Badtooth saw it coming and countered, bringing his sword down hard in an overhead strike that Miya just barely deflected. She leapt to the side as Badtooth's cutlass bit deep into the deck, ripping a gouge of wood out as he tugged it free with a growl.

"Not used to fightin' someone so bouncy," he muttered, turning to face Miya where she now stood—on top of a crate, piles of rope stacked sloppily around her. She watched Badtooth carefully as he stepped towards her.

"Tryin' to make up for yer lack o' height?" he asked, grinning. Miya said nothing. Badtooth lunged, the same move he'd used to cut Miya's shoulder, but she was ready for it this time. With a smooth, graceful motion, she hooked her foot around a nearby rope and leapt down from the crate, tightening the rope between Badtooth's legs and tripping him—Miya slipped her foot out of the rope and spun to plant her foot firmly on Badtooth's rear as he stumbled forward, sending him crashing to the deck, his cutlass clattering away.

"Yield," said Miya, standing on his wrist, her sword pointing at his neck. "Lest you'd like—wah!"

Badtooth had pushed up with a mighty roar, sending Miya tumbling. As she struggled to her feet Badtooth scrambled for his cutlass, grabbing it and turning to face Miya as she regained her footing.

Both combatants glared at each other a moment, then they charged, Badtooth roaring, Miya growling, their swords meeting with a hard clash, Miya's slim blade ridiculously frail compared to Badtooth's massive great cutlass.

"Ye've not the strength to beat me, girl," Badtooth growled.

"Ye've not the brains," Miya spat.

They broke off the lock and stepped back, then both swung again, another screeching of steel-on-steel ringing out across the deck, Miya's sword bending against Badtooth's dirty cutlass.

"Face it, lass, ye're done! I've duelled tougher scraps of steak than ye!" Badtooth roared.

"It's a sorry sight to see a man lose to his dinner," hissed Miya.

They broke off the lock, glared at each other, then once more meshed blades. However, this time the noise that rang out across the deck was not the solid clash of steel-on-steel.

It was the horrible sound of a sword shattering.

Badtooth snarled at Miya. Miya stared back, her face flushed.

There was the clatter of a useless, bladeless hilt falling to the deck, and after that a silence stretching over several seconds.

"This is a royal Amician straight sabre," Miya whispered, breaking the silence. "My father gave it to me on my fourteenth birthday. It would not fail me."

Badtooth swallowed hard as Miya put the edge of her sword to his neck.

"Yield," she said, softly.

Badtooth's yellowed eyes darted left and right.

"Lads ..."

Sola stepped forward, his spear at the ready.

"There are rules," he said.

Badtooth closed his mouth.

"Yield," Miya repeated. Badtooth looked at her, then nodded, very carefully.

"Aye, I yield," he said. "Can't very well duel without a blade, can I?"

Miya smiled as gracefully as she could.

"Miya, your arm," said Sola. "Are you okay?"

"So long as I don't get an infection from that filthy cutlass," she said, making her voice loud, drawing some scattered laughter from the crew. "It's a wonder it lasted as long as it did. When's the last time you cleaned it?"

"Never," said Badtooth, with a rotten grin. "Mebbe I should have."

"Perhaps so," said Miya. She winced a little at a sudden pain from her arm, the edge of her sword brushing Badtooth's neck.

"I don't mean to be rude," he said, wincing a little himself, "but could ye see ye way clear to mebbe moving yer blade away from me neck? I won't pull no dirty tricks on ye."

"Huh. You better not," said Miya, lowering her weapon but keeping it ready. "Duel's a duel, right?"

"There be rules," said Captain Badtooth. He grinned. "Haven't been beaten in a good long while, where'd ye learn to fight like that?"

"My dad taught me," said Miya, proudly. "And I train with Lars Bako."

"Huh. Old Knives been spending his days teaching young girls to fight like dervishes? Brave new world," muttered Badtooth. "So. Ye've bested me, fair and square. I may not be yer kind of pirate but I knows the rules. Ye be wanting the ol' Gull?"

"What? No! I don't want your ship!" said Miya. "What would I do with it? Besides, this thing is filthy and messy and just ... kind of gross. I want to know about your boss."

"Me boss?"

"Badger Pete, of course."

"Never heard of the cove," said Badtooth. "We be new to this part o' the world, he some kind of big shot 'round here?"

"Oh," said Miya. "Well then," she said, hardening her tone again, "I want supplies. Food and water."

"Just for the two of ye? Aye, should be able to spare it."

"And you're to free any slaves aboard," said Miya, narrowing her eyes.

"Haven't any."

"What?"

"No slaves aboard this ship. We may not have one of yer fancy-pants 'codes of conduct' but there's nary a man aboard the Gull that ain't want ta be here."

"Oh," said Miya. "Huh."

Badtooth took out his pipe, then pointed it at Miya's shoulder.

"You want to do something about that wound of yorn?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, this. I don't think it's too bad. I'm just not used to getting cut."

"Not been in many a fight, then?" Badtooth asked. "Or are ye just that good?"

"I'm just that good," Miya replied, instantly. The crew laughed, and Badtooth glared around at them.

"What're ye lot standing around for? Get the lass some supplies, food and water." He watched his crew get to work, then turned his attention back to Miya. "Ye be wantin' for some rum? Got a goodly amount stored."

"Ugh, no." Miya made a face.

"Bumboo, then?"

"No, no," she said, waving her hand. "Just water and food. Dried meat, dried fruit, lemons, limes, that kind of stuff."

Badtooth nodded. "I'll have me men take it to yer ship."

"And no tricks."

"Aye, ye've bested me, mebbe I don't live up to yer idea of what a pirate should be but I'd die before dishonouring the conventions of duelling. Besides," he said, his voice lowering, "this lot'd string me up if I broke that kind of rule."

"Hm," said Miya. "You probably should have a code of conduct, though."

"Aye, so ye say."

"Division of booty, compensation for injuries, rules of the ship—honestly, this is really basic stuff," said Miya. She pouted a bit. "Codes of conduct are really important."

"Mebbe so."

"And no pulling this distressed ship routine again, okay? It's really underhanded. Don't pull any tricks that rely on exploiting the kindness of others. Right?"

"Aye, right enough."

"And, I mean, if you're going to pull that kind of dirty trick then at least do it PROPERLY. I can't believe you don't know what the Jolly Roger is."

Badtooth raised his eyebrow and looked up, scowled at what he saw.

"Ah, that bleedin' eejit, SMITHY! YE'VE MUCKED UP THE FLAG AGAIN!"

*

The supplies had been safely stowed in the Black Swan's hold, and Miya waved back at the Bloody Gull as they sailed away.

"I think that went really well!" she said to Sola. "Don't you? And that guy Badtooth, he isn't so bad. I think he could become a real pirate, given some time."

"I should look at your arm," said Sola.

"Oh yeah. I kind of forgot about it. Oh, ow ... now you reminded me about it it's hurting again. There's a medicine chest in my cabin, could you get it?"

While Sola went to fetch the medicine chest, Miya gingerly peeled her shirt away from the wound, wincing. For a few seconds she considered how best to remove her shirt, then took a good grip and tore the sleeve off at the shoulder, exposing the cut. It wasn't too bad, just a slightly jagged gash, a few inches long and not too deep. After Sola returned with the chest he poured alcohol over the wound to clean it, carefully padded it dry, then bandaged it tightly.

"I wonder if we should have sewn it up," said Miya, as she poked at the bandages. "But then it's not SO big, it's not like half my shoulder is missing or anything, right? I mean, as long as I keep it clean it should be okay. And not sewing it up means I'll get a bigger scar."

Sola shook his head, the slightest of smiles at the corners of his mouth.

"What? Scars are so pirate-y!"

"You are your own girl, Miya Black."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Miya asked, flexing her arm and testing the tightness of the bandage.

"It means that I must simply accept what you do and say or I will be forever confused and upset while in your company."

"That's very, um, philosophical of you. Or something," said Miya, slightly confused herself. "Good bandaging, anyway. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"And we've easily got enough supplies to get to the Diamond Isles AND Bloodclot Reef now, right? Right?"

"Yes."

"So everything worked out great, really," said Miya. She prodded her wounded shoulder, wincing. "Ow. I hope this doesn't slow me down too much."

"I think it must take a lot more than a wounded shoulder to slow you down."

"Thanks! You've got our next course plotted, right?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go! Take the wheel, First Mate Sola! Hm ... that's kind of weak. Lieutenant Sola? No, that just sounds odd. Sub-Captain Sola? No ..."

"Just Sola is fine," said Sola. "Really."

"Well, okay then. I'm gonna think of a good title for you sometime, though."

Miya climbed the rigging, just a little slower than usual, and began trimming the sails as they left the Bloody Gull behind and headed east, their course set for the Diamond Isles.

"You know," said Miya, "I've got the feeling it's gonna be easy from now on. We've got plenty of supplies, a solid course, a fantastic ship and, of course, a great captain. All that's left is clear sailing to find my grandfather."

*

"Holy monkeys, how many ships are there?"

"Two more, to the north."

"What? Alter course, then!"

"To which direction?"

"Um ... south-east?"

Sola shook his head.

"North-east?"

Sola shook his head.

"Regular east?"

Sola shook his head.

"Gosh, I'm running out of directions here. No more 'east's, anyway."

"The only clear direction is west," said Sola, "where we came from."

"Well that'd just be going backwards."

Miya rested her elbows on the railing, and cradled her chin in her hands.

"Are they moving?" she asked, after a moment.