From Blood and Magic Read online

  “Do you know anything about boats?”

  “They float.”

  “Anything else?”

  “They smell like a toilet.”

  “They do, don’t they? Good point, but not what we are here for.” This wasn’t going as he had envisioned. Not at all. He had to try something else. He needed to know where to start. Or did he? What if he assumed Nails understood nothing about ships? Why not start there? He turned to the side and pointed at the bow of the ship. “The front part of the ship is called the bow. Say the word, bow.”

  “Bow.”

  “Good and what does bow mean?”

  “The pointy part of the ship at the front,” Nails said and then he squealed. “I got it didn’t I? I got it right.”

  “Take it easy, Nails. No one likes a show-off, but you are right, you did well. Do you think you can do another?”

  “I hope so. I got such a wonderful feeling last time. Will I feel that again, Brayson?”

  “Let’s see.” Brayson pointed at the stern. “The part at the back is called the stern. Say the word, stern.”

  “Stern,” Nails said quickly. Brayson noticed that his eyes were glassy and locked on Brayson’s every move.

  “Good and what does stern mean?”

  “The back of the ship!” Nails was bouncing up and down with excitement. “I got it again, didn’t I?”

  “You sure did.”

  Nails glowed with happiness and Brayson smiled back at him, thinking that he might be spared the whip. Nails appeared to be slow, but not impossible to teach. In fact, Brayson had never seen anyone so enthusiastic about learning. He spent the next two sailing days quizzing and teaching Nails whenever the oars were not needed to move the ship. The man was like a sponge, soaking up every word. Brayson could hardly believe how much information he lacked, especially considering his seemingly unlimited capacity to soak it up. It was like Nails was waking up from a long sleep. Every so often, he seemed to glow again when he got excited about learning a new term. After two days, Nails could name all the parts of the ship they could see and could explain what was expected of him.

  Bulger never came to see how Nails was progressing. He just watched his every action, like he watched all the slaves, looking for a reason to use his whip, but Nails followed his commands quickly and never faltered. The rower three benches forward from him wasn’t such a fast learner. The first day, when the oars were needed again, he had to flip his oar over because the blade was not at his feet and hit three other men as he did so. Bulger’s whip snapped out, and the rower yelped as a bloody slash appeared on his back. He spun around in a useless attempt to protect himself with the oar still in his hands and clipped the heads of two other rowers. Brayson managed to duck and it passed over his head, but Bulger was coiling his whip and failed to see the oar coming. It slammed into his side and brought forth a yowl which quickly changed into a curse.

  “Destroyer!” he barked. The whip lashed out four times before the captain roared out a command.

  “Bulger! Leave it now. We have a ship to move.” Bulger stomped forward and, grabbing the whimpering rower by his hair, pulled him down onto his bench. He reached over, picked the oar up from the deck, spun it expertly above his head and slammed it into the oarlock before he turned back to the others.

  “Portside ready, Captain.” The look he gave the unfortunate rower caused Brayson’s back to itch. “We will finish this later,” Brayson heard him say.

  That evening, he kept his promise by beating the man senseless. For the next three days, the man’s oar spent more time being dragged through the water than pushing against it, and Bulger’s whip lashed out repeatedly. Finally, on the third day, Bulger grabbed the man and threw him over the side of the ship. The short leg-iron chain stretched from the bench post to the man’s ankle, holding his leg just inside the boat, while his body hung down the outside. Bulger pulled out his short sword, lifted it high above his head and sliced it down on the leg. The man began to scream but was cut off as he hit the water. Bulger sheathed his sword and grabbed the foot that had fallen to the floor, then he pulled it from the leg iron and tossed it over the side. “What a useless piece of jetsam he was.”

  Chapter 4

  Nails could see the pirate ship at the stern. The cadence of their ship’s drum was frenzied, faster than he had ever heard it but slightly offbeat, as the drummer was missing the drumhead every time he twisted around, trying to see the other ship. Bulger was screaming to pull harder. He seemed to have forgotten his whip for the moment. Nails hoped he forgot it forever. A few days ago, as they entered the harbour at The Point, Brayson’s oar had hit on some jetsam in the water, and he had missed his beat. Bulger’s whip immediately slashed out and cut across Brayson’s hand. The cut was deep and Brayson said his hand kept cramping, so he was favoring it whenever possible.

  The pirate ship had appeared out of the channel between the islands of Maidensland and Swanrock, as they were headed back to Delvingford. They had already experienced a difficult crossing from The Point to the Three Sisters—the island chain that Delving Island, Maidensland and Swanrock made up. A storm raced across South Lake the afternoon they saw Maidensland Island on the horizon. Sails were useless, so the rowers had to fight to keep the ship from floundering. Luckily, the storm died out as quickly as it had arrived, but it left them exhausted. They had rested as the ship sailed on, but not for long. As soon as the pirate ship was sighted, the rowers were told to make ready.

  “Alternating oars,” the captain ordered. Brayson had taught Nails that command meant that every second bench of rowers would row for a turn before the other benches spelled them. Adding the power of oars to the wind in the sail should have allowed them to outrun the other ship, but Nails could see that it wasn’t enough. The pirates began to overtake them. “All oars,” the captain screamed. Nails saw Brayson grab the oar that lay across his legs and make ready to shove it out through the oarlock.

  “Get them out!” Bulger screamed.

  Brayson started to slide it out, but suddenly he lost control. The blade dropped into the water below, and the oar was ripped from his hands with the force, slamming the end into the rower in front of him. Brayson was trying to pull the wayward handle back in when Bulger appeared beside Nails bench.

  “You useless crossbreed,” he screamed as he raised his whip.

  Nails had just finished a stroke. His oar was out of the water as he swept it forward for another stroke. Without thinking, he yanked the oar in and drove the end into Bulger’s belly. Bulger buckled over, his face falling just inches from Nails’. As he straightened up, he looked directly at him with anger and fear blazing from his eyes.

  “I’ll slice you to pieces for that,” he snarled and threw his arm back. The whip lashed out and fell across Nails’ shoulders, who dropped his oar in shock. Ever since his first day as a rower, Nails had dreaded Bulger’s use of the whip on him, imagining how it would feel as it ripped through his skin, so the slight tickle he experienced surprised him. He looked down and realized that scales now covered all of the skin he could see. They had protected him from the whip’s punishment. Bulger moved to bring the whip down again, but Nails’ lack of reaction—or perhaps the fact that scales now covered his face and body—rattled him enough that he paused for a heartbeat. Taking his chance, Nails reached out and rammed his hand up between Bulger’s legs, then he stood, grabbed Bulger’s neck with his left hand, heaved, and tossed him over the side. Bulger hit two oars on his way to the water, and the boat swung starboard as the rhythm of the portside rowing was lost. The pirate ship slammed into them and ran along the port side snapping off the few oars that remained in the water. Grappling hooks flew onto the deck, gouging furrows across it until they found purchase, and men brandishing swords and screaming wildly sprang across the gap between ships. They ignored the slaves and charged into the sailors.

  The fighting lasted only a short time, and when the ship’s crew was dead, the pirates
turned their attention to stripping the ship of cargo and any valuables they could find. The sun was close to burning itself out in the waters of the lake before the pirates were finished. One pirate stood on the railing, waiting for all the rest to leave.

  “Hand me a torch,” he called out.

  “What about us?” Brayson called.

  “What about you?” the man answered with a sneer on his face.

  “Give us a chance,” Brayson replied. The sneer turned into a smile just as someone passed the man a torch. He stepped down off the railing and walked down the deck to stop by Brayson.

  “A chance, you say? I think I can do that. I’m going to fire the ship but, if you can get to our ship before we cast off, you can join us.” The man turned away with a laugh and held his torch to one of the ropes that secured the sail.

  “We should go with them,” Nails told Brayson.

  “Yes,” Brayson said, then with a shake of his head added, “if only Bulger had unlocked our irons before you threw him overboard.”

  Nails looked at how the leg iron was wrapped around the thick bench supports. He stood and stepped over his bench so that one leg was on either side, bent over, grabbed the bench with both hands and pulled. It held for a moment and then the top ripped away, leaving the shackle wrapped around the post with nothing to stop him from lifting it free. He stepped over Brayson’s bench and ripped his away. Brayson grabbed the bench top and passed it to the next rower.

  “Let’s see if we can pry the seat off,” he told him. Nails went to work on the next bench and the next and the next before he heard the command to cast off. He had managed to free all five of the rowers towards the stern. There were three benches forward, Brayson was working on the last of those. Nails looked across the deck to the starboard side. Fires were burning everywhere. Through the flames, he could hear the starboard side rowers screaming, but there was no way to reach them. He ran towards Brayson and helped to rip the last bench away then they hoisted the last rower between them and stepped up on the railing. The pirates were using oars to push the ships apart, but they managed to jump across the opening, landing in the rowing section on the opposite side. As they climbed to their feet, they were met with sword points.

  “Bring them over here,” Nails heard someone command. It was the fire starter. He was standing by a stairway leading to the stern of the ship. The other slaves were all sitting on the deck at his feet, guarded by three pirates with unsheathed swords. Nails, Brayson and the man they had just saved climbed out of the lower oarsman area and were prodded over to join the others. Firestarter ignored them as they sat down.

  “Try to keep your scales hidden,” Brayson whispered. Nails looked down and realized the skin on his arms was back to normal. He nodded his head to show he had heard and understood.

  As they sat waiting, Nails took the opportunity to look around at the ship. He noted differences; instead of having a flat deck from bow to stern it had a raised area in the stern, the rower’s benches were in a sunken area on both sides the same as the other ship, but it had five more benches per side for a total of thirty. The single mast looked to be the same as what he knew. There was an uncovered hatch close to where they sat, and he saw two more down the centre of the ship. He could hear sounds and voices from below, and eventually sailors started to climb out of the open hatch. A small man followed last and closed the hatch cover behind them. Where the sailors had been large and scruffy, this man was small, neat and clean. Nails doubted his hands had been involved in the work that lay below.

  “Let’s get underway, William,” he said to the fire starter.

  “Ay, Captain,” William called out some orders that Nails didn’t understand, although he recognized a few words like sail and anchor. Sailors started moving about with purpose.

  “What do we have here, William?” the captain asked as he stepped closer.

  “Some rowers who escaped the fire.”

  “That was a Delvingford smuggler, wasn’t it? They keep their rowers chained. Did you set them free?”

  William smiled. “Not bloody likely. They managed it themselves.” He pointed at Nails. “This big one ripped up the benches to free them.” The captain strolled over to where Nails was sitting.

  “Did you give them your usual, ‘free yourself and join our crew’ incentive?”

  “That I did, Captain.”

  “Are you men ready for a pirating life?” All nodded. “Well, up you get, let me take a look at you.” The men stood and the captain passed among them. Three could barely stand. The other seven were thin and dirty. “Not much to look at, are they? Did we lose anyone, William?”

  “Two men, Captain.”

  “Okay,” he said finally before pointing at the three newcomers who were in the worst shape. “You three aren’t ready to work, so go and sit by the bow. Have any of you been sailors?” he asked the rest. The men all mumbled a negative response. “William, get these men settled on the benches. I’ll take care of the other three.”

  “Ay, Captain. Follow me, men.” William led them to the starboard side benches, assigned four men there and then moved on to the port side. He placed two men at each oar, pairing one new oarsman with a current crew member. Nails listened to William’s instruction carefully so that he wouldn’t make a mistake. This was going to be his new life, and he wanted desperately to fit in. The ship got underway and eventually set sail. Nails thought to look for the three men who had been too worn down to row, but he couldn’t see them anywhere. He forgot about them as the demands of the new ship took over.

  Chapter 5

  “Look out, oaf.”

  “Sorry,” Nails said as he shifted sideways on the bench. His oar-mate, Peg, pushed past him and jumped up to the main deck, but before he could leave William called to him.

  “Peg, hold a bit. Captain wants the new rowers evaluated.” Peg waited while William crossed the deck towards them. “How did the new man work out?”

  “He rows all right, but I would prefer not to be his bench-mate.”

  “Why?”

  “He keeps askin’ stupid questions and won’t shut up. I think he’s got something wrong up here.” Peg pointed to his head. “I don’t want his stupid rubbing off on me.”

  “Too late for that,” Brayson said quietly from behind Nails.

  When the sails had been raised all the rowers pulled their oars in. The old hands had gotten up and climbed to the main deck. The new men stayed at their benches, except for Brayson who had made his way to Nails. Now he spoke up. “I will share a bench with him,” he told William. “We work well together.” William looked Nails and Brayson over while he considered the situation.

  “We’ll give it a go, but don’t try anything slick. If I see you slacking off—” He didn’t bother explaining what would happen. He turned to Peg. “We’re good, Peg. Go about your duties. New men gather around.” The other two rowers came together by Nails. “Stay here, men, while I get the other three .” William walked off towards the starboard side of the ship

  One of the men touched Nails on the shoulder. “Thanks for saving my life.”

  “Yes, thanks,” the other said. Nails felt embarrassed.

  “It was nothing,” he mumbled. William was walking back towards them with the other three in tow.

  “Everybody find a bench,” he said. He eased himself down on the edge of the deck with his legs hanging into the lower area and waited until everyone was seated. “You are all part of the Wave Splitter’s crew now,” he began.

  Nails felt the warmth of happiness flood through him. Part of a crew! A member of something! He remembered this feeling from when he had lived at the pleasure house with Susin. Her friendship had made him feel this way, and Brayson’s friendship did too, but then a thought spoiled the feeling. Being one of the crew didn’t mean that everything was good. He thought back to when he was living on Waysley Island with Magga. She scolded him all the time because he was stupid and never paid attent
ion even though he had been part of her family…well, sort of, he was at least part of her household. Being part of something wasn’t enough, you had to listen, learn, and follow orders for things to go well. He hoped he could do that. Learning was especially hard for him, although Brayson had helped him to learn the parts of the ship. Brayson was his friend, and he would probably help him to understand what he was supposed to do, but Nails knew he really should pay attention and try harder. He resolved to do that.

  “So that’s it, boys. Follow those rules and everything will be fine but break them and you answer to Captain Horn. I don’t recommend that. We are headed for home, should be there in a few turns of the glass. Relax on your benches until you are needed. Next trip, I will see if we can make sailors out of you.” William climbed to his feet and left. The starboard rowers followed, and the rest stretched out on the benches. Nails sat on the floor with his back against the side of the ship beside the bench he and Brayson would share.

  “Did William say anything about food?” he asked.

  “We have to wait until we reach port,” Brayson mumbled without opening his eyes. Then after a few moments, he turned to Nails.