Chapter Twenty-Eight–The Return to Tuwa, continued

Soon, two more ships came into view, all converging. The man in charge of their boat brought out a spyglass, and the ship they were heading for turned in its course.

“It’s the Scrivener, and that one farther out is the Duke’s Delight. Fleet’s coming together early, it looks like. Maybe we’re moving off today.”

Jon exchanged a worried glance with Kalani.

“Well, which we’re to dock with, I’m not sure,” one of the rowing men grumbled. “That henhouse the Serenade is moving off and here comes the Scrivener, and where are we to put everybody rightly?”

“We’ll finish sorting at the rendezvous. The important thing’s that we get on a ship, and quick. We don’t want to be left behind.”

Eventually Jon and the girls found themselves boarding the Scrivener, bullied up the ladders and onto deck with more threats of shooting if they tried dropping down into the ocean. The Scrivener was bigger than either the Land’s Wings or the pirate ship from the previous night. It had cannons, and was crowded with lashed-down barrels, crates, and tarps. A few well-dressed men stood around the deck, looking incongruous among the rough pirates, and an argument seemed to be going on between the two groups. Jon recognized the painter in the middle of it.

“My order has not been met and I demand a replacement of better quality,” he was saying.

“And how are we to make our orders with a full load missing?” a well-dressed man interrupted, waving papers in the face of a dangerously angry-looking pirate. “Four lambs for a Dr. Ash, my list said. He’s a discriminating gentleman with very particular standards, and now I’ve nothing whatever from which to select. There are ten Firaus guineas depending on that transaction alone.”

“Well, look, here’s a part solution for both of the gentlemen,” a nearby pirate pointed out. “Here’s a fresh load in, with at least one fine lamb, and some new birds as well. Maybe one will suit for you, sir.”

The chief pirate glared at him. “We’re not guaranteeing no one’s merchandise outside their contracts. And those have to be sorted with Vasca. I’m not giving away new merchandise before it’s appraised. This lot has yet to be sorted.” He glared at the pirates who had come aboard with Jon and the girls. “And where are the rest of the birds we were promised?”

“This is all they could lay hands on this morning,” one of the men from the rowboat replied. “There are more to be had, they say, but they have to retrieve them.”

“They’d best do that quickly, then. We’re leaving for Maribelle at first light tomorrow.  Trimela’s going up in flames today, they reckon, and the fighting will spread over every other rock in the archipelago by the end of tomorrow. The rendezvous is tonight.”

Jon felt panic. Tam would find them, of course, but would it be soon enough?   What could Tam and the Professor do, after all, with one ship against all the pirates?  They could be blown up, or captured, with terrible fates for everyone. And if Trimela was indeed burning, what had become of the others? Kalani seemed to have some of the same worries, but she wasn’t looking like she’d cry any longer. She looked tall and cold and furious. Meanwhile, the well-dressed men and the painter were looking over at them like they were festival prizes to be won. Jon tried glaring at them, too, but he was worried that the tears spoilt it. He couldn’t feel cold, or angry, just frightened.

“I’ll remind you, I’m leaving the rendezvous directly, with the houseboat I have paid for,” the painter said, gaining steam again. “I’ve paid for my little flock too, and I do not have what I was promised.”

“Get the ship underway,” the chief pirate grumbled. “Rac, Jemmy, take the boat back ashore and tell them the last of the birds are to be brought straight to the rendezvous. And try not to shoot any. Our numbers are lower than we’d like.”

The boat men went back over the rail and away.

The painter took this opportunity to resume his complaint. “Look here, since your men lost me one of my flock, I demand a more suitable replacement!”

The chief pirate sighed. “If you can’t keep control of your merchandise, and they go over the rails, what do you expect us to do?”

“Should you also destroy my hat in such a way, should it fall overboard?”

“Again, sir, you are responsible for your own possessions until and unless you make new terms with Vasca.”

“My possessions only become mine once I have possession of them. The merchandise in question was still in transit to my care when the ugly incident occurred.”

“When she saw his diseased face.” One of pirates prodded another, who chuckled.

“I shall make a personal complaint to Vasca about this matter unless it is settled before we meet. And let me remind you, he will not be unwilling to hear me. He stands to lose valuable connections without me, and I will see that he understands you are responsible.”

“Fine!” the pirate roared. “Just pick yourself a new hen, or chick, or whatever you like from the new batch, and I will not hear another word about this.”

The painter looked over at the huddled girls with new interest.

“And what about my concerns?” the other well-dressed man said.

“I can’t get you lambs that don’t exist. There’s the one, and you can be grateful for that.”

“But what if he’s not healthy?  They must be in good health, and unmarred, and there must be four.”

“Perhaps we’ll catch the missing ship, or hit another on the way. I’m making no promises. Inspect the one, if you like.”

“I say,” said the painter, looking at Jon for the first time, “I’ve a son your age.” He looked startled, staring down. “He has eyes your color.”

“And you ruin girls his age. How very charming you are, to be sure,” Kalani said, pulling Jon back amongst the girls. “No wonder girls prefer going over the rails.”

“What a tongue,” the painter said, staring now at Kalani. “I say, you have a fire in you like none of the others.”

“You really have no idea,” Kalani said. “Stay away from my girls.”

“Give any cheek, and no one will hesitate to slap you,” a pirate warned.

“You are quite unique,” the painter said. “I wish you would model for me.”

“You should like to capture me, you mean.” Kalani glared.

“Really though, you seem special,” the painter said, gaze oddly careful now, and clear. “One can’t help but feel, that to possess you, would be to possess the beauty and soul of these islands.”

“Try to do to me what’s been done to my islands, and you’ll find yourself clubbed in the head,” Kalani said.

“A bit of learning’s a dangerous thing in a girl, innit,” one of the pirates laughed. “Don’t know why the missionaries keep insisting on trying to spoil them with it.”

“I don’t know,” the painter frowned. “I’ve had no good, intelligent conversation lately.”

“That’s what happens when you pluck your brides from the nursery,” Kalani said.

One of the pirates slapped her then, and the girls surged forward, trying to protect her.

“Enough of this,” the pirate chief said. “Take them all below and secure them in the hold. No time for anything but getting this vessel to the rendezvous. If you want to pick a hellcat, sir, I’ll ask you leave her caged until you can secure safe transit for her under your own liability later.”

“I shall consider it,” the painter said, eyes still lingering on Kalani. “I will make a selection by this evening.”

The other well-dressed man grabbed Jon’s arm briefly as they were all being herded below decks. “Do you have all your teeth, lad?”

“Ash is an evil name,” Jon told him, seriously.

The man paused. “That’s the rumor,” he said. “For my records, what nationality or mix are you?”

“I’m Shandorian. And under the protection of the Blackfeathers.”

“Are you now? And what are they?”

“Pray, sir, to whatever you believe in, that you don’t find out,” Jon said stiffly, and pulled away to cluster with the others, down the stairs. He was learning how to be angry now. “We have to stop the pirates and rescue everyone,” he told Kalani in a whisper, as they were locked all together in a big hold below decks.

“Have you any ideas how?”

“No, but I believe that Tam and the Professor and the others will. They’ll never leave us, no matter what’s in the way. They’ll cross oceans, even.”

Kalani squeezed his hand, but said nothing.