Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns (6 page)

He was furious.

*

"—bigger than one island, Lilith, and the longer we let this go on—"

"We have a responsibility to our people, above all else—"

"Our responsibility here is to help those who need it. For goodness sake, we've got the only decent-sized navy in the archipelago, most of these islands have never even considered defence against the sea, this part of the world wasn't touched by the war—"

"But we were. We know—"

"Exactly! So how—"

"I will do what is necessary to protect this island and the people upon it."

"But these people ... they need our help, Lee. Who else will, if we don't?"

"And who will help us, if we need it? Who is there to come to our rescue, should our navy be destroyed?"

Miya couldn't stand to hear any more. Blinking back tears, she crept away from the door to her parent's bedroom and went quietly downstairs, out the back door, into the night. The moon shone full and bright above, lighting her way as she walked through her mother's vegetable garden and her father's flower garden. She walked to the cliff that overlooked Blackport and looked down, at the quiet, pretty little town that had been there her whole life, that had grown alongside her. When she was born there were barely a hundred people living on Clover Island, now there were over a thousand. It had become a symbol, of sorts, in its short existence. Clover Island was a place for second chances, for fresh starts, where your past was your own, to share as you saw fit. Where you could see the results of your own hard work, and live freely so long as you did no harm to others. The people of the island were kind and generous, open to new ideas and new people. Miya sniffed, trying to imagine what it would be like to lose the island, to lose the town below, the people she'd grown up with and lived with.

"I'd do anything," she said to herself, her voice quiet but fierce. "I'd do anything to stop that. I'd fight anyone. I'd sail anywhere. I'd ... I'd attend any ball."

Miya looked up at the moon.

"What do I do?" she asked. "What on earth can I do?"

A small sound suddenly caught Miya's attention, and she drew her sword—her new sword, her father's sword. She looked around, searching the darkness, scanning the shadows cast by moonlight, looking for anything out of place.

"I'm sorry," a deep voice came from behind her. Miya gave a little yelp and spun around to see Sola, standing just a few metres away. She scowled at him.

"Don't sneak up on me," she snapped, sheathing her sword.

"I'm sorry," Sola repeated. "I didn't mean to startle you. You couldn't sleep?"

"No, I ... well, yes, I suppose so," said Miya.

"I thought that tonight I would sleep as I never slept before, but instead I find myself more awake than I have ever been," said Sola. Miya was silent. They both looked out at the town below and the ocean beyond that, and the bright moon and the thousands of stars in the clear night sky.

"Do you find it strange, having a brother suddenly?" Sola asked, after a minute of silence.

"Um, yeah, kind of. How about you? Having a sister suddenly, I mean."

"Yes. I have had time to accept who my father is, but to have a sister is unexpected."

Sola paused for a moment, thinking.

"How do brothers act towards their sisters here?" he asked.

Miya thought of Penny's little brother, Bradley, and the constant torment he subjected her to.

"Um," she said, after a moment. "Why do you ask?"

"I would like to be a good brother."

Miya couldn't help but smile at this.

"I'll try to be a good sister, too."

Sola nodded. "Thank you," he said, his voice gravely earnest.

"Are you always so serious?" Miya asked.

"These are serious times."

"I know," Miya said, with a sigh. "I wish I could do something."

"So do I," said Sola.

They looked out at the view for a few moments.

"Before you came out here I was trying to imagine what ... how I'd feel if, y'know, if something happened to Clover Island."

Sola nodded. Miya bit her lip, then looked at him.

"Sola ... we're going to get him. Badger Pete, I mean. I don't know how, or when, or ... or anything, but I know we're going to get him. And we'll rescue your people, and help rebuild your village. Uh, if you want help. You might have it set out how you like it and not want other people interfering, I know I prefer to decorate my own cabin."

Sola nodded again.

"Thank you," he said. Miya smiled at him, then looked up at the moon.

"We'll do something," she said.

It was the day after Miya's birthday. She'd woken early and, after washing and getting dressed, had gone in search of her father, finding him in the first place she looked; his study. He glanced up as she knocked on the open door.

"Come in Miya, you don't need to knock."

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Miya asked, as she walked over to his desk.

Her father grinned. "Not as much as I would have liked."

"What are you doing here? Reading?"

"About tactics, mostly." He patted the pile of books on his desk. "Naval battles, island defence ... it's been a while since I've had to think about these things."

"Huh? What about those practice battles we do every couple of months?"

Tomas shook his head.

"It's not the same. In a real battle, it's not just how quickly your crew can load the cannons or get the ship turned around. When the ship you're up against is firing more than just wooden dummy cannonballs at you ..." Tomas sighed. "It's not brute strength that wins a battle."

"Finesse," said Miya, smiling at her father. Then the smile vanished. "So ... so you think that guy'll come here? Attack here?"

Tomas squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead hard. "I don't know, Coconut. I hope not. But from what Sola has said, about Pete's movements—well, look here."

Miya stepped closer to her father's desk as he moved a stack of books, revealing a large piece of paper spread out underneath. On it he'd traced a map of the Rainbow Archipelago.

"Tonfa-Tonfa is up here, and Sola said he'd seen people from both Pala-Mala and Na'alofa on board Pete's ship. They're both north of Tonfa-Tonfa—here and here. It wouldn't really make sense for him to attack Na'alofa, then head to Pala-Mala, then go all the way back to Tonfa-Tonfa. So we can chart his progress down from Pala-Mala first—actually, likely Wo'osi up here first but that's just a guess—then down to Na'alofa, and then down to Tonfa-Tonfa. I'd say Pete was targeting merchants off Algernon's eastern coast before coming into the archipelago, probably using Sweissaresa or Stottburg as a safe port."

"So you think he IS a pirate?" Miya inquired. "Not just a sea bandit or raider, but an actual, genuine pirate?"

Tomas cleared his throat.

"There are a couple still around, I suppose," he said.

"Oh, that's interesting to hear," said Miya. "Maybe he came from a 'distant, savage land'?"

"Possibly," said Tomas. Miya looked at him a moment longer, eyes narrowed.

"Interesting," she said, slowly, before focusing on the map once more. "His next target would be To'ofa?"

Tomas smiled, just for a moment. "I think so. If he continues this pattern. He's padding his crews with northern islanders, but they're generally not good sailors—not in ships, anyway. But they're strong, good fighters ... and with their families at stake ..."

Tomas sighed and pushed the map aside. Miya picked it up and studied it.

"So ... so we know where he's heading next," she said. "I mean we know where he'll be—"

"Or was."

"But he's heading down the islands. Right?"

"A day or two's sailing between each, give or take, a day to conquer, maybe a day recovering and securing any prisoners, then onto the next ... if he's heading here, I'd say we've only got a week or two to prepare. Less if he decides he's got enough northern island slaves. He could be heading for Clover Island right now, if that's the case."

"You think he's going to attack us?" Miya asked, lowering the map.

"It's a possibility."

"Then we HAVE to attack him first! Not just for the sake of the northern islands but for Clover Island's safety! The longer we wait the more slaves he's going to capture, the more ... oh."

Tomas nodded. "I don't want to fight the northern islanders, and he'll almost certainly put them at the front of any attack he makes. They're our friends, our neighbours—their families are in danger, they have no choice. But we do."

"But ... but if they attack us here, we have to defend the island, right?"

"If our families are in danger, then we have no choice either," said Tomas. He sighed. "Such is war."

"Then we rescue the northern islanders!"

"If I was Badger Pete," said Tomas, grimacing slightly, "I'd keep the families on the same ships as the slaves—keep them close, always the reminder of what's at stake. That way, the slaves in the crew will give their all to keep the ship afloat."

"That's horrible," said Miya. "What an awful plan!"

"But a good one—an effective one."

"Then ... then what are we going to do?" asked Miya.

"If we do fight Pete on the sea, then we'll try to cripple his ships without sinking them, then board and take out the non-islander crew—hoping that the islanders realise what we're doing and join us in the fight."

Miya nodded enthusiastically. "Then we'd double our boarding forces!"

"But we can't count on them joining us. They're afraid for their families, and Badger Pete has almost certainly told them what will happen if they try to rebel in any way. They may be too afraid of that to join us, even then."

Miya sat heavily on a couch. "What a crappy situation," she said. Tomas looked at her, then went to sit down beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"We'll figure something out," he said. "Maybe we can get help from somewhere."

"Huh. Who would help? Everyone hates us."

"They don't hate us, they—well, the Highland does, but—"

"And Algernon doesn't even put us on their maps. Right?" Miya shrugged off her father's arm and stood up. "And the southern islands don't care about anything, and places like Outlook Island only have a few decent ships, and the northern islands are already falling, and everywhere else is too far away to even know we exist. No one's going to help. It's just us, as usual. One Island In All The World."

"Miya—"

"You should get some sleep," said Miya, and then she left.

*

Town was subdued, the usual bustle and noise of the town square replaced with stillness and hush; small groups talking quietly. Miya tried to hold herself proudly and present a strong example to her people, but most of them didn't even really look at her. She stopped at the well in the middle of the square and threw in a coin, making a fervent wish as she did, then made her way down towards the docks, through the largest residential area of Blackport. She tried to smile at the trees and flowers painted along Swan Street, then actually did smile when she passed a cart loaded with bags and crates. Even in these hard times, Miya thought, new people are coming to the island.

It wasn't until she was half a street away that realisation struck her. No, she thought, as she looked back at the cart. That's not someone new moving in; that's someone getting ready to leave—someone getting ready to run away. Miya glared at the cart for a moment before stomping back up the street to give whoever was moving a piece of her mind. Then she stopped. She looked at the cart again, at the bags, large and small—in particular at one small bag that had been decorated with ribbons.

Miya shook her head and turned away, her proud stride subdued as she continued down to the port. This was usually Miya's favourite part of town, but today the normal busy, energetic atmosphere was replaced by one of trepidation and wariness. Dock workers stood or sat around, smoking and talking, a few looking up as Miya passed, but none saying anything to her. She walked to the end of the longest pier and stood there a moment, hands on hips, looking out to sea, then she turned, looking back, at the town and the cliff behind it, and her own house atop that. She looked at the dock workers, who looked away in turn, and she looked at the ships in dock—those belonging to residents and visitors, and those belonging to the Black Navy. She frowned, then walked briskly back up the pier, scabbard bouncing against her leg.

"Look lively, you lot," she said, stopping in front of a group of dock workers. "Don't you have something to do?"

"Who, us?" the one nearest her asked. "Not many ships in, girl."

"Girl?"

"Princess," the dock worker corrected himself, then cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"I should think so. No ships, you say?"

"Been scarce for a few weeks now. Reckon it's something to do with this Badger Pete character stomping around up north, scaring everyone away. We've had a few from southern parts, but nothing much overall. Once word spreads we'll be seeing even less, too."

"Hm," said Miya. She looked up at each dock worker in turn. "Are you lot scared? Thinking of leaving?"

The lead dock worker glanced at his fellows. "Can't say it hasn't come up, in conversation like," he said. "But this is our home, ye know? Wouldn't be right to leave just when she needs us. Besides, where'd a bunch of scallywags like us go? Where'd have us?" he said, drawing a couple of low chuckles from his workmates. Miya looked at them and nodded.

"Good," she said. "Carry on."

"As you say, Princess."

Miya left the dock workers and walked back up into town, holding her head high and keeping her pace brisk.

"Oh, hi Miya! Why are you walking like that?"

Miya turned to see Penny coming out of a grocer, several bags held in her arms.

"Like what?" Miya asked, relaxing her posture just a little. "Do you want help carrying those?"

"Oh, yeah—if you don't mind," said Penny, offloading a couple of the bags onto Miya. "Thanks."

"No problem. I was planning on heading that way."