A tavern brawl in a dockside bar isn't like a fight in more ordinary surroundings, I quickly found, especially when the bar's clientele largely consists of pirates. For one thing, the patrons are armed, and when one person goes for a weapon, everyone else's fingers get itchy for one as well. No one wants to be the person who comes unarmed to a swordfight.
Unfortunately, this time that person was me. As the hostage of Hell Mel's crew, I was not permitted to carry arms, not even a ladylike little jeweled dagger as I'd worn while traveling. They were pirates, after all, not idiots.
I would, however, have given a great deal of money just then for a nice long sword and the skill to use it.
What was all the worse is that unlike ordinary soldiers, sailors are used to fighting in the close confines of a ship's deck. The tavern was much the same, only with walls and a roof. What broke out even before the masked men reached us was not so much a true brawl but a brutal melee between drunken, armed men skilled in the art of killing at close quarters.
The masked men were not dressed like the locals; they wore close-fitting garb of pale gray with cloth tied across their lower faces and over their heads. The ones with crossbows carried small one-handed models useless at long range, and their swords were straight-bladed, though no longer than the sabers and cutlasses of the seamen. They were focused intently on us, leaping over or darting around all obstacles to reach our table. Another one fired at Morgan, but the pirate ducked and the bolt only took his fancy hat off.
"Backs ter backs, mateys!" Mel bellowed, leaping to his feet. He'd left his giant axe on board ship and was instead wielding two smaller hatchets, one in each hand. These I soon saw were just as lethal as their larger cousin, as he smashed a masked man's guard aside with one swing and the second split the killer's skull.
"Who are these guys?" Morgan protested, engaging another of the killers.
One of the attackers found that he couldn't get free of his tablemates, so he struck one of his obstacles in the belly and face with a lightning-quick combination of elbow and backfist that sent the pirate flying into someone from the next table over. While the masked man sprang towards us, the pirates at that third table began to fight amongst themselves, angered at the newcomer for flying into them.
Like I said, a drunken melee.
Our part of the fight, though, was one of deadly serious intent. The attackers clearly had murder on their minds, and were just as clearly focused only on Hell Mel and his crew. There were no shouted threats or other macho bravado, just an immediate murderous attack.
The last one with a loaded crossbow put a bolt into Patch's shoulder, then hacked at the burly pirate and cleaved open a nasty wound on his chest. Ace lunged in to interrupt him from going after Mel's back, but this left me defenseless against another of the attackers. For a moment I was utterly paralyzed with fear, and he used the chance to drop his crossbow and grab my forearm. The man's touch galvanized me into action, and I snatched up a tankard from the table and threw it full into the masked man's face.
"Aarrgh!" he cursed, trying to wipe his eyes clear with the back of his sword-arm. "We're here to save you, you stupid girl!"
Oh.
Unfortunately, I'd managed to foil any chance of rescue with my hasty action (which I still maintain was not my fault--how was I to know the assassins were a rescue party?). While the masked man was struggling to clear his eyes, someone shoved a dagger into his back. I saw the point burst from his chest, slick with blood, and was promptly sick.
I think it was sometime around then that someone smashed one of the lamps, spilling flame and oil. Dry wood and spilled alcohol only accelerated the blaze, and soon the fire was licking along two walls. A body went flying by me, alive or dead I couldn't say, and I tried to see if I could make it to the door, but there were too many men and too many blades in the way. Then someone grabbed my dress at the back of my neck.
"Oh, no, Miss de Alkirk. It won't be that easy for you." I turned my head and saw Jack Hook, his namesake dripping with blood. My stomach lurched again.
"We've got to get out of here before the place burns down around our ears!" someone shouted, and Mel took dramatic action to clear a path. He chopped down another assassin who'd been carving up one of the crew, then stuck his axes back into his belt and picked the table clear off the floor! With a roar, he hurled it across the room into the crowd, knocking most of them flat and making a hole to escape by.
"Get going, ye swabs!" his voice boomed out, and we made a run for it, Jack keeping a firm grip on me. Morgan had apparently killed his man, for he was the next out, followed by Ace, a man I didn't know, and Scrope, who was bloody from a nasty cut down the side of his face and another on his arm.
"Althena's tears, where's the Captain?" Ace shouted, seeing that the next several escapees were from among the general public.
"If he's burned to death because of you, bitch..." Jack Hook hissed dangerously.
"I'm going back after him," Ace announced, and had actually taken the first couple of steps when an enormous silhouette appeared at the door and Mel staggered out, gasping and choking from the billowing smoke. He held the body of Patch in his arms, carrying the bloody form of the big crewman without apparent effort.
"Hawes and Dorey are gone," he coughed out as he reached us, "but Patch be still with us, if we can get him ta the Fortune and some healing herbs."
That was why he'd been late escaping. He'd stayed in the building while the fire built up around him to check on his fallen crew members and see if any could be saved.
Now, writing many years hence, I can say that it was then that the seed first took root within me. Not for Mel's acts of courage--bravery is highly valued by warriors and adventurers but in truth is more common than one might think. Most of us, in truth, have some measure of courage when the things we care for are in peril. It was that he cared which mattered to me, that the crew which served under him meant enough to risk his own life to save, with no possible monetary benefit to be gained.
"And the bastards who did it?" Jack swore.
"Dead, gone, and soon ta be burnt ta ash."
"An early taste of what's coming to them," Morgan opined. Under the circumstances I did not feel comfortable in contradicting him, for all that the men had been sent by my parents--or, more likely, by my parents' agent.
I repeated this opinion across the captain's table on board the Black Fortune an hour later. Once Patch had been seen to with a couple of doses of calm herb, Mel had called what amounted to a council of war. Immediate action was necessary, and all the ship's officers were present, not only Mel, Morgan, Jack Hook, and Ace, but also Edgars the quartermaster, Reade the sailing mistress, Black Ben, and Finn. The latter was the ship's magician, a hedge-wizard whom I understood to have trained at the Magic Guild of Vane but dropped out to use his skills for personal profit.
It was Black Ben who was the most fiercely critical of the captain. The boatswain, Ben was a tall, muscled man with tattooed arms and a mop of curly jet-black hair that gave him his nickname.
"You should never 'ave brought 'er on board, Cap'n. Them de Alkirks'll be nothing but trouble for us. I says we just cut our losses an' give the wench back."
I decided that I wasn't fond of Black Ben. Wench, indeed!
"If ye be too much a coward to face a little danger, Yellow Ben, mebbe ye'd best go ashore an' take up accountin'," mocked Reade. The buxom blonde was the only one of the Fortune's dozen or so female crew to hold officer's rank.
You go, girl! I thought.
"The question be, just what kind o' trouble are we looking at?" Mel quickly took charge of the discussion. "Are we going ta be seeing flotillas o' de Alkirk ships and men from here on out?"
"She's their daughter. Would they risk her getting hurt?" Morgan asked sensibly.
"They might, if rescue wasn't the main point of the attack."
"What do ya mean by that, Jack?" Mel asked.
"We attacked their private yacht and snatched their daughter. Maybe the de Alkirks want to make a point to the other Houses and the pirates alike: cross us and you're dead. If they can save Amelie, all the better, but the point would be to see us dead or scattered to the winds, regardless of the cost."
The candle-lantern hanging above the table gave his face an even more lean and dangerous look than he had in full daylight, the effect adding to the ominous weight of his words. I gasped in horror at his insinuations.
"That's not true! Mother and Father wouldn't do that!"
Jack sniffed and gave me an evil smile.
"And what do you know of how they do business, girl?"
"I think she's old enough to understand how House business works, and to know her own parents' minds," Ace offered in my defense. "No offense intended, Jack, but I think you're letting your hate for the Meribians color your judgment."
It was Black Ben who snorted in response.
"I figger 'Awes an' Dorey'd think different about that, Ace."
"The girl didn't expect the attack," Morgan pointed out, and was seconded by Mel.
"Aye, that she didn't, else she'd never have given one o' the rotters a faceful o' Pete's finest."
I flushed, not from embarrassment but from shame at how I'd managed to help spoil my own rescue attempt. It was generally misunderstood by the others, though.
"No need ta be embarrassed, lass," Mel said. "Ya should be proud, standing up fer yerself."
"Darned right," enthused Reade. "Fine lady or not, a girl's gotta show those men they can't take her for granted."
"The point is," Morgan said, "that Miss Amelie is telling the truth. She didn't think a rescue party would be coming, and she didn't recognize those assassins as House de Alkirk retainers."
"Probably they were mercenaries."
"Maybe so, Finn, but she'd have been expecting someone if she knew a rescue party was coming."
"That's assuming she knew what her family was up to," Jack snapped. "I'll agree Amelie was telling the truth so far as she knew it, but what would a pretty, pampered piece of marriage-bait know about the cold, hard side of how the merchant-lords do business?"
"Still, the assassins were there for her. Getting her out was a priority, not killing us," Ace offered his conclusions. "Say what you like, but that was a rescue party: attack by surprise, start a riot, snatch the girl, and get away in the confusion. It would have worked if Miss de Alkirk hadn't resisted, and it might still have worked if most of the best fighters on the ship hadn't been there with her."
"It might be local," Finn offered, stroking his drooping brown mustache thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?"
"House de Alkirk's local agent. Knowing that we'd be celebrating, he might have set up the rescue on his own. If it worked, he'd have been a big hero, both for saving Amelie and for saving the House the ransom money. That's the kind of thing that wins a merchant promotions and bonuses."
"What if the girl got killed in the fray?" Morgan wanted to know.
"Lie like blazes, blame us for it all, and hope that the de Alkirks never learn the truth."
"Jack, I never get tired of your endless faith in the goodness of human nature," Ace observed.
"He and Finn do be right, though," Mel decided. "Ahrr, it could be that way, easy. They're as slippery as eels, the merchants that work here in the Keys. Got ta be when dealing with the sorts o' people that sail these waters. One thing's fer sure; somebody ain't scared ta use more'n just talk ta get Miss de Alkirk back."
"An' now we 'ave to face the consequences of it," Ben snarled. "D'you think they'll stop at just one try?"
"Mebbe yes, mebbe no," said Edgars. The Black Fortune's quartermaster, he didn't say much, and it tended to be on point. "Going ter be hard t'negotiate a ransom if we're dodgin' goons an' sneaks th' whole way."
"We could fort up on the Fortune," Morgan suggested. "It's the most defensible place we have."
"Still risking a standoff that way. I'm thinking o' doing something ta keep the moneygrubbers honest."
"What's that, Captain?"
"We take the lass away from here, so's they don't know where ta go looking for her. Meanwhile, we leave the Fortune in port ta strike a deal about the ransom. When that's settled, we bring the lass back. If they don't know where ta look, they ain't going ta be able ta send anyone after her, especially if it do be the local man who's at the bottom o' the shady dealing and not them high and mighty merchant-lords with their tame magicians and such."
The pirates looked at one another, thinking things through. I did too, and I had to admit that it sounded like a good plan to keep me out of the way of any searchers. The problem was that I wanted to be rescued! Or then again, maybe I didn't. What I really wanted was to return home safe and unharmed. People were being killed around me, even because of me! I didn't want any more of that, either, even if it meant letting the pirates get away with their crime. Hell Mel's crew may have robbed and kidnapped, but it was the overzealousness of my own family that had led directly to death, injury, and the destruction of the tavern. It was lucky for Blue Dragon Key that the fire had been stopped before it spread to nearby buildings, or else there might have been a catastrophe!
"So, where do you intend to take her?" Morgan asked.
"I think ya know that already, Morgan. I'm suggesting that we take Mr. Teach up on his offer ta show us where the Cape Matapan treasure lies."
"The Cape Matapan?" Black Ben said incredulously. "What, we're to go chasing fish stories besides?"
"Why not?" Ace said. "If even we don't know where we're going, the de Alkirks certainly can't."
"An', if it really be there, we kin give th' girl back if we have ter," Edgars pointed out. "The Cape 'ad more on 'er than a dozen ransoms."
"Presuming that we're actually looking for treasure and not just following a crazy man," Jack said. "Teach isn't exactly the most reliable source, though he spun a plausible tale."
"The point is ta get away while the ransom is collected and they finally agree ta pay it over. If we fetch back a passel o' loot, well, all the better. The way I figure it, we can take the Fancy. She's a shallow-draft schooner, perfect fer avoiding rocks and such."
"Stede won't like you commandeering his ship."
"T'were ours ta begin with. I gave it ta him, and I can take it back, regardless o' any black ingratitude that he may be hiding behind."
"Then that's your plan."
"That it do be, Jack Hook, although o' course I'll be putting it ta the crew fer voting."
My curiosity got the better of me again.
"Excuse me," I spoke up, "but what do you mean by, 'put it to the crew for voting'? I thought that you were the captain?"
I do not like being laughed at, and I blushed with mortification, going red all the way to the ears, when the entire table burst into hilarity except for Jack, who merely glanced at me with a combination of pity and disgust that I found almost worse than the laughter. My temper flared up at once.
"Isn't it enough that you've snatched me up like a sack of meal and dragged me here and there like I was some valuable object rather than a human being? Must I be mocked and laughed at for merely asking a simple question? Far be it for me to expect chivalry or courtesy, but at least common decency shouldn't be inevitably out of bounds."
"The girl," noted Ace, "has bite to her."
"Where was your common decency when your paid thugs were trying to gut us like caught fish?"
"They weren't my thugs, Jack Hook, and well you know it! You're merely being offensive."
"Aye," Reade said, nodding sagely. "Bite, fer certain." Which, of course, only gave rise to more laughter.
It was Mel, taking in breath with great gasping whoops, who finally got around to giving me an answer.
"We're sorry, lass, truly, but have ya no idea o' how a pirate vessel be run? Not after all the time ya've been with us?"
"I've been a prisoner, Mel," I shot back, still distinctly cross with him. "My observation has been that I do whatever I'm told by whomever is yelling at me the loudest or shoving me the hardest. It doesn't leave much room for the technical analysis of subtle points of ship's etiquette."
"Well, I admit ya do be a little low on the chain o' command, lass. Even so, a pirate captain rules by favor, not by right."
"I still don't understand."
"Har, on the Black Fortune we be free men and women o' adventure. On a trader, naval vessel, or other ship, the law o' the sea rules. The captain's word be as good as Althena's own by that law. If ya go against him, ya get clapped in irons or lashed before the mast or whatever else he thinks up, and it's all legal. If ya mutiny, it be death fer sure."
I nodded. This point I did understand, for I'd been taught about the powers of the captain before my very first sea voyage.
"Well, as ya might have noticed, we pirates ain't too fond o' the law o' the sea, or any other law, come ta mention it. Many o' us turned pirate ta get away from the hardships o' serving on a legal ship, where low pay and brutal treatment can be the rule. We be free now, and no self-respecting pirate would let some captain say what he or she can do. The crew votes on all matters o' moment, including who gets ta be the captain, and I'll stay captain only fer so long as they wants me ta be."
I didn't really understand. Elections were one thing, but I didn't see how a sea captain could lead when his every decision had to be voted on.
"So what does it mean, then, to be captain?"
"It battle, it's life and death, fer sure. Ya can only have one general in an army, and that general is me. When the Fortune goes into action, what I say goes, just like fer any ordinary captain. As fer the rest, it's strictly me own charm and the crew's trust in me judgment that counts."
"So you lead, but only because your followers trust you to lead? If they want to vote you out, they can, and in the case of important decisions, you put it to a vote of the crew?"
"That's it exactly, lass."
Something clicked into place, and I spun towards the hook-handed officer.
"That's what you meant about hanging Van Dierken, isn't it, Jack? He treated his crew almost as badly as the worst of martinets, and you wanted to know why they tolerated it?"
"Precisely."
"So this democracy isn't just how you run the Black Fortune, but how all pirates operate?"
"I'm sure there are a few who don't," Finn said, "but as a general rule the custom is near-universal, at least among the pirates of the Meribian Sea."
"Thank you for explaining," I said. "It seems a very logical way to do things, when the crew is not made up of employees but volunteers."
"I'm so glad you approve."
"Down, Jack," Ace said with a laugh.
"Just observing that Miss de Alkirk is the one person here who doesn't get a vote."
"Why, Jack, that was almost a joke. I do believe you're starting to like me after all," I riposted.
"Now that'd be Althena's own miracle," Reade laughed, and general levity followed, excepting only Jack, myself, and to my very great surprise, Mel. Instead, he merely regarded me with the most curious expression on his face. I wished I knew just what it was he looked to be so thoughtful about, and whether it boded well or ill for me.