Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns Page 12

  It was Miya who got the first hit in, kicking hard at the pirate with a defiant yell, catching him in the stomach. He grunted and swung his fist at Miya, but she swiftly leant back to dodge it.

  "Bendy little wench," he growled as he pulled a knife out—which Miya promptly kicked out of his hand. His focus went to the flying weapon, allowing Miya to plant the heel of her boot squarely and solidly in his knee, sending him crashing to the deck howling in pain. She pushed past him, avoiding the grab he made for her leg and giving him a kick in the head for his pains, then charged through the door leading to the main deck.

  These were Miya Black's thoughts immediately following this:

  First: Wow, I just took down that guy in like three seconds without him even touching me.

  Second: You idiot, don't think about the guy you just beat, focus on the guy you have to beat NEXT.

  Third: What guy?

  Fourth: Well, you can maybe take your pick from the dozen or so coming out of that door over there.

  Fifth: Rats.

  Miya drew her sword and gripped it tightly, looking around quickly as the massed pirates advanced on her. She figured she had three seconds, maybe four before they were on her, so she turned and ran up the stairs to the forecastle deck, which would at least mean they'd only be able to come at her two or three at a time. Ahead of her, at the prow, there was a direct, sharp drop to the ocean below, but even in the light of dawn it looked very cold and very uninviting. Miya looked back, saw that the pirates were at the base of the stairs now, looked down at the ocean again, sheathed her sword, then ran and jumped.

  Shouts of surprise and anger rang out as Miya landed on the main deck, rolling with the impact, her scabbard poking into her ribs quite painfully. She forced herself onto her feet as quickly as she could, side aching, her head light. The pirates were behind her now but already coming at her again so she ran, stumbling just a little, leaping for the mast and scrabbling up, making it to the first crossbeam within seconds and pulling herself onto it, straightening and keeping her balance easily.

  Miya took a breath.

  Below the pirates were still coming at her, shouting and jeering. She noticed a few northern islanders at the back, weapons ready but obviously not eager to fight. For a moment Miya reconsidered aborting her mission—maybe I can't blow the keg but I can at least rescue some islanders!—but then her survival instincts kicked her in the head with an emphatic "What are you thinking, you fool, just worry about getting YOURSELF out of here!".

  A couple of the pirates were climbing the mast now, but Miya politely discouraged them with a few well-aimed kicks. Not for the first time she silently thanked her father for her boots; they were steel-capped, and the heels were also lined with the metal, giving them that extra bit of weight that she physically lacked. However, as good as her boots were, Miya didn't think they'd be any help in getting out of her current situation; in effect she'd trapped herself, as climbing up here had given the pirates below time to surround her. She couldn't climb down and climbing up higher just meant further to jump down from. Even at this height she wasn't certain about landing without spraining something, or worse.

  Well, anyway, no sense wasting an opportunity, she thought, as she kicked another climbing pirate in the head. She drew her knife and quickly cut a few nearby ropes, paused to discourage another pirate from climbing up with a kick to the cheek, then dragged the knife through a furled sail, putting a long tear in it. She was looking around for something else to wreck when a clear, strong voice called out:

  "Just what do you think you're doing to my ship?"

  The jeering and shouting from the pirates below stopped, all eyes turning to the owner of the voice, Miya no exception. It was a girl, maybe a little older than Miya, certainly taller, wearing black silk trousers and a white silk shirt, over which was a black sleeveless vest. She had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and wore a wide-brimmed black hat with a white feather stuck in it. At her side was an ornate cutlass scabbard, bejewelled and glittering in the early dawn light. She was, and Miya could barely force herself to admit this even within her own head, fairly beautiful. (Although if you were being very strictly critical you might say that her nose was a little—and just a little—on the large side.)

  "Coming aboard without an invitation is hardly proper behaviour, but this savagery? One might believe you to be some manner of beast, rather than ... well, whatever you normally call yourself."

  "I'm Miya Black of Clover Island," said Miya, drawing herself up proudly. "Princess Miya Black, actually."

  "Oh, a PRINCESS! That's funny, I thought you had to have a kingdom to be a princess—these modern times, it's so difficult to keep up, don't you find?" The girl addressed the question to a big, bald, ridiculously scarred pirate nearby, who grunted in agreement. "You see? Devon agrees, and he's Algernian. You can't argue with an Algernian when it comes to fashions and trends. Of course, you do tend to find a lot of girls these days calling themselves 'princess' without any claim to that title at all, rather sad really."

  "Clover Island IS a kingdom! My father is King Tomas Black, and my mother is Queen Lilith Black! You should remember those names well, because we're the ones that are going to beat you and your boss!"

  "My 'boss'? And who would that be?"

  "Badger Pete!" yelled Miya, drawing some laughter from the pirates below. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

  "You said, what was it? 'King' Tomas? That would be your father?" the girl asked.

  "Of course!"

  "And he is your boss?"

  "Of course not, no one's the boss of me!"

  "Is that so? Well, no one's the boss of me, either," said the girl. "Oh, how rude, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Grace Morgon." She bowed elegantly. "You seem to know my father already, or of him at least, although I've been trying to get him to drop this ridiculous 'Badger Pete' moniker for some time. His real name is Peter Morgon."

  "You're his daughter? He has a daughter?"

  "Goodness, don't you catch on fast?" said Grace. She cocked her head to one side. "Clover Island, you said?"

  "What of it?"

  "Oh, nothing. It just has a nice ring, 'Clover Island'. Once all this is over, I may get Daddy to give it to me. Does it have any beaches?"

  Miya remained silent, quietly fuming.

  "Well, anyway, I must ask, what is royalty such as yourself doing all the way out here?" Grace's patronising tone took on a sharper edge: "How did you get aboard? Where's your ship?"

  "No sign of anything out to sea," said one of the pirates, holding a spyglass to his eye. Miya smiled; thanks Mum, thanks Dad, great present.

  "She must have anchored on the other side of the island and rowed around in a dinghy. Quite resourceful for a pretend princess from a no-name island in the middle of nowhere." Grace looked up at Miya a moment, her expression amused, then she smiled. "Why don't you come down?"

  "Hah! Not bloody likely!"

  "Perhaps I won't hurt you. Perhaps I'll invite you to tea."

  "Perhaps you'll trip and fall upon your sword, and do the world a favour," said Miya. Grace's expression didn't change.

  "I was just thinking," she said, that sharp edge from before returning to her voice, "that we have a lot in common, perhaps a lot to talk about. You know, in a way, I'm a princess as well. My father is a pirate king, after all. Well," said Grace, with a little laugh that set Miya's teeth on edge, "I suppose you could call me a 'pirate princess'."

  "Girl," said Miya, forcing all the contempt she could muster into her words, "you don't even know what a princess is. My mother would chew you up and spit you out, and she'd do it so nicely you probably wouldn't even realise what a fool she'd made of you."

  "Oh your mother. Your mother would deal with me. Well, little lost no-name princess, out here in the real world we don't go crying to our mothers. We deal with things ourselves."

  "Believe me," said Miya, "I would love to deal with you myself."

  Grace and Miya glare
d at each other for a long moment, then Grace laughed again.

  "Oh, but let's not be silly," she said. "After all, you're my guest! This is MY ship, after all. Quite nice, isn't she? Would you like to know her name?"

  "Would you like to know what my boot tastes like?"

  "The Boundaries None. Quite poetic, no?"

  "The Boundaries None," Miya repeated. "Does that refer to ... to your lack of boundaries regarding ... uh ..."

  "Should we all go away, come back once you've thought of some suitably biting repartee?" Grace asked, drawing laughter from her crew. Miya scowled at her. What made it worse is that privately, very privately, she thought it was a good name for a ship.

  "And the name of YOUR ship? Assuming, of course, that you have one."

  "The Black Swan," said Miya proudly.

  "Oh, the Black Swan, how ... nice. Did you name it yourself? Or did your mother help you think of that?"

  Grace laughed once more—Miya couldn't quite put her finger on it, it seemed like it should be a pretty laugh, a pleasant laugh, the kind of laugh you hear and think "That must be a lovely girl, to have such a nice laugh", but every time Miya heard it her palms itched and she longed to slug Grace's smug little smile right off her face. Miya watched as one of Grace's crew approached her, telling her something in a low voice. Grace frowned.

  "Well now THIS is interesting," she said. "I've just been told that you came aboard with the intention of sinking my ship. Something about blowing the powder keg? Well, I'm not sure what passes for civilised behaviour in the odd little backwater you come from, but in the circles I frequent we would consider that something of a faux pas."

  "I wasn't going to blow the powder keg," said Miya.

  "Weren't you? Then why come aboard? Simply to gaze upon the most beautiful and splendid captain in these waters? One couldn't blame you, after all I have many admirers and you're at such an impressionable age—"

  "Oh, my first intentions were to sink this ship. But you have northern islanders, captured slaves amongst your crew, and likely their families secured somewhere on board too."

  "Ah, and so you decided, no, I cannot sink this ship, I would not have the blood of innocents on my hands. For myself and my crew, of course, you spared not a thought."

  "I did so! Of course I wouldn't want ... shut up!"

  "Oh, so you WERE concerned about myself and my fellow pirates? Goodness, how noble of you. I assume that the wretched little dinghy we found clinging to the side of my beautiful ship like a sea louse is yours? No need to answer, after all, who else could it belong to?"

  Grace looked up at Miya, amused, as Miya scowled down at her.

  "I'm a great believer in fairness," Grace said, after a moment. "Fairness, and balance—two rather important concepts, don't you agree?"

  Miya was silent, glaring down at Grace, who smiled sweetly back at her.

  "And I think it would be both fair and balanced that since your intention was to sink MY ship, that I should sink yours."

  Grace nodded to one of her crew, who gave a signal to someone Miya couldn't see. Miya ran along the crossbeam to see two of Grace's crew standing on the stern deck, hacking at her dinghy with axes, quickly tearing a large hole in the bottom. Miya gritted her teeth and tried to stop the tears from coming to her eyes, but she felt her cheeks become wet as Grace's crew tossed the boat she'd learned to row in into the ocean, watched them laugh as it spun madly in the water, like final pathetic death throes before it sank beneath the surface and disappeared from sight.

  "Oh my ... oh, this is too good. Are you crying? Are you actually crying, my poor lost little princess? Over a wretched, worn-out dinghy?" Grace laughed again, this time not prettily at all, a long, deep, mean laugh, her crew joining in. Miya stared at her, watched her laughing, wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and sniffed, just once.

  "Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon."

  Grace stopped laughing and looked up sharply, as Miya repeated her name flatly:

  "Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon."

  "What are you doing?" Grace demanded, her voice low, almost a growl.

  "Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon."

  Grace glared up at Miya, who gazed impassively back.

  "Grace Morgon. Grace Morgon."

  Miya paused for just a moment. Then, "Grace—"

  "Stop that!"

  Miya smiled, a small, thin, entirely humourless smile.

  "Just making sure I remember your name, Grace Morgon."

  Grace drew her cutlass, slowly, making the blade scrape against the scabbard as she did so, the loud, ugly noise this produced cutting through the stillness of dawn.

  "Get her down here," she growled.

  Miya gripped her knife tightly as several of Grace's crew begin clambering up the mast. She took a step towards them, kicked the first pirate in the head, then turned and sheathed her knife in one movement, running along the crossbeam, focusing on the end, counting her steps; judged, breathed, and then leapt.

  Time seemed to slow as Miya launched herself through the air, arms and legs flailing, flashes of the deck below, angry faces, the ocean coming up to meet her fast, too fast, and then a sharp, painful impact as she hit the surface at a bad angle, and then weightlessness, the grey-green of water all around her, that instant of panicked disorientation, then Miya breathed out and followed the bubbles up, breaking the surface of the water and gulping in a lungful of air as time began to flow normally once more, a dull roar in Miya's ears almost drowning out the shouts and jeers and yelled commands from the ship above. She didn't wait around to see what Grace's response to her action would be, instead dived back underwater and swam for as long as she could, away from the ship, breaking the surface only for air, her boots slowing her down but she was a good swimmer, a great swimmer, and then for a while there was nothing but swimming and the ocean around her and remembering to come up for air, and then she broke the surface and Sola's voice pierced the roaring in her head, even if she couldn't make out any actual words, and she bobbed there for a moment, looking for him, shouting "Move, Sola, so I can see you!", then strong hands had her and she was being lifted, dripping and cold, teeth chattering, onto the deck of her beloved ship, and a thick blanket was being placed around her shoulders which she clutched at gratefully, and she said, quite clearly, "I think I may be in shock, my Dad told me about this but it's never happened to me before," and then, for a little while at least, there was nothing.

  *

  Miya's mother was trying to wake her. It must be a book lesson day, Miya thought. But it's still too early!

  "What are you doing," she murmured, turning over in her bed, pulling the blanket in tighter. "It's too early for books."

  "Miya, I don't understand the rigging."

  "You don't study rigging in books," muttered Miya.

  "We're not going fast enough, the other ship will catch us."

  "Whose? Dad's?"

  "The other ship! Miya, wake!"

  All of a sudden Miya realised that she wasn't lying in her bed, in her bedroom, on Clover Island, and that her mother wasn't here, and that she was very cold and quite wet, and her boots were filled with water (which she hated), and Sola was saying something about another ship chasing them.

  "We have to get away!" Miya shouted, staggering to her feet and then losing her balance, Sola catching her and putting her upright again before she could fall.

  "Thanks," she said. "Phew. Wow. Gosh, that water was cold!"

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yes. Well, no, I'm cold and wet and kind of dizzy—"

  "Can you set the sails?"

  "Of course, I could sail the Black Swan in my sleep. Just point me towards the right mast," said Miya.

  "There's only one."

  "I knew that," she snapped. "Okay. Let's try to focus or something here."

  Miya rubbed her forehead, then cried out in protest as Sola picked her up and put her on his shoulder, turned towards the pursuing ship.
<
br />   "Hey! Don't just—wow, that's really close," said Miya. "Is this what it's like to be tall? Dad used to put me on his shoulder when I was littler but I haven't—wait, isn't that Grace Morgon's ship?"

  "It's the ship you just escaped from," said Sola, his usually calm voice just a little strained.

  "That's Grace Morgon's ship! The Boundaries None!" Miya cried. She jumped down from Sola's shoulder and turned to face him. "Sola, we have to get away, why aren't we getting away? That fat old frigate shouldn't be able to catch us!"

  "The rigging on this ship is complicated, it's not like the book said—"

  "Of course it's not!" yelled Miya, heading for the mast and starting to climb. "It's MY ship! No one can sail her but ME! Man the wheel, Sola, and look sharp!"

  Miya tied ropes and adjusted sails, let some out and pulled others in, climbing quickly amidst the rigging, calling out to Sola as she did so.

  "Hard to port! HARD! Hard as you can! Now straighten her out a bit, don't let her list!"

  She glared at the pursuing ship. "Trying to catch me with that fat pig of a frigate? I don't think so. See you later, Grace Morgon."

  Miya untied a rope and let it loose, feeling a thrill as the main sail filled with wind.

  "Sola, let go of the wheel a moment, let her find the way! Now hold, hold it tight, tight as you can!"

  Sola gripped the wheel and held it steady, his strong hands not letting it move an inch.

  "Good! Let's see that phoney little madam catch us now! Hah!"

  Miya climbed further up the mast, into the little crow's nest, shouting and shaking her fist at the pursuing vessel:

  "You'll never catch me! I'm Miya Black of Clover Island, and there's not a ship built that can outsail the Swan!"

  The bow of the Black Swan began to lift from the water as it picked up speed, the sails full, Miya dancing in the crow's nest as they began outrunning the Boundaries None.

  "Sola, adjust to starboard, just a little! We're away now, oh, we're SO away now! Haha!"

  Miya grabbed a rope and swung down from the crow's nest, letting go of the rope to grab at the netting on the mast, then climbing quickly down to the deck. She jumped on Sola at the wheel and hugged him, grinning wildly.