The Pirates of Fainting Goat Island

by Teresa McCullough

  “Do you think he guessed?” Roddy asked.

  “How could he? I don’t think it’s a magic that’s generally known. But I couldn’t have Controlled him. I know I helped him move his ship, but that shouldn’t pay him back for saving me.” There was a balance to Controlling. It didn’t have to be the same type of activity, but it had to be the same value on some godly scale. “Could I have saved his life with enhancing? That would balance. I thought your magic had more impact.”

  “It probably would have, we stayed out of the storm. I would have rained on their ship when it was close enough. I think I could reach further with my rain magic than you could with your enhancing.” Soaking wet sails and sailors would be at a disadvantage.

  “Perhaps he didn’t save me. Maybe I would have woken up in time.” If I woke up by myself, could I have saved my parents? I certainly would have gone there first, since it was only Merko’s determination to keep me from returning that made me run for Roddy. Maybe Merko kept me from saving them, which meant he did me no service.

  “Perhaps,” Roddy said.

  Another thought occurred to me. “I could just tell Merko we wanted to leave. We could get on his ship and go to the nearest port. If he’s Controlled, he would take us. I’m worried he wants me to defend this island using enhancing. I don’t want to defend pirates. I may already have killed people defending them.” I realized that was why it took me so long to realize Merko and his men were pirates. I didn’t want to accept what I might have been responsible for.

  “You might try it. With any luck, both of us will be able to leave. I think you want to wait a little while after he returns to put him more in your debt. You’re doing a lot of work for him.”

  “And he hasn’t paid me.”

  “Not yet. He still might,” Roddy said.

  “Why did you disappear?” I asked. I missed his presence.

  “I didn’t want them to put pressure on me to join them. I’m an experienced seaman, and I think most of them are better fighters than seamen. I didn’t come back right away when I realized they needed help here.” He indicated the field where he was working.

  “If I find a way off the island…” I didn’t complete the thought.

  “Let me know and I’ll join you. I don’t want to live here for the rest of my life. I once spent time as a slave and I don’t want to do it again.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “You were a slave?”

  “I told you, girl.”

  A vague memory stirred, and I asked, “When?” He didn’t respond, so I added, “How old was I?”

  He thought about it and said ruefully, “Young enough to sit on my lap.”

  “Tell me again,” I said. “Tell it to an adult.”

  “Let’s go sit down,” he said. “It’s a long story.”

  We sat in a grassy area at the edge of the field. “My family was poor, very poor. They sold me, so I wouldn’t starve. I was nine. Don’t get me wrong; it was the right decision. I was afraid, but I was told they would feed me. I looked forward to that.”

  “Were you sold for your magic?” I asked.

  “Yes. But they only needed it on those rare occasions when it didn’t rain. Two or three times a year, I would water the crops. It took me a couple of weeks to water my owner’s land, but that didn’t keep me very busy. There was a man who worked for him who walked with crutches. He was a scribe but tried to escape. They crippled him, so he couldn’t run away. A scribe doesn’t need to walk very far. I realized that could be me.”

  “How did you react?” I asked.

  “I made myself useful. I ran errands for anyone who wanted them run. I helped just about every craftsman there was. They taught me a bit of their craft in return. I resolved to wait until I was sure I could do it. Meanwhile, I became so valuable, they were annoyed when I was doing what I was bought to do, water the crops.”

  “How long were you there?”

  “Six years. Then I escaped. They trusted me because I never violated their trust until then. I did every task, never stole anything, and never complained. When the opportunity came, I escaped easily, because they trusted me. I made my way to the seashore and fell in love with the sea.”

  He gazed pensively out to sea. “I tried to make a living on shore. I may have known a bit about a dozen trades, but anyone who apprenticed to one trade for a year was better. I signed onto a ship to give them water but got angry when they expected a full day’s work out of me.” My face must have portrayed my surprise, because he explained, “I was free and thought I shouldn’t have to work. I think you did something similar when you were that age. I jumped ship. Then I met the Captain.”

  “I’ll bet he got work out of you,” I said, smiling.

  “He made me a deal. Every time I filled a barrel with water, I would get two hours off. I didn’t keep my end of the deal and was pleased with myself for putting one over on him. I spent three months being lazy. I was surprised the crew didn’t seem to resent me. They were amused at something, but never told me what it was.”

  He grimaced and said, “The Captain came to me and gave me an order. I was going to work hard every day and learn how to be the best sailor ever. I would do other sailors’ work when I finished my own. At first, I hated it and him and the sea. I thought I worked hard as a child, but that was nothing compared to this. But I learned. I also learned to like working hard. One day, I realized I could be lazy. I tried it for a few hours, but it wasn’t me anymore. I spent most of my young life working hard and three months of idleness wasn’t enough to change that habit.”

  “Did my father treat all sailors that way?” I asked.

  “No, but there were several more after me. It was my turn to be amused at their idleness, knowing it would change. Some left the ship when the Captain no longer Controlled them, but the better ones stayed on. We all helped each other and competed to see who would work the hardest. Your father ran a very profitable ship and shared his profits with the crew. It’s the nicest thing about Controlling. You can’t use it without helping people.”

  “Meaning I have to help Merko if we’re going to escape?”

  “That’s what it looks like,” Roddy said.

  I would have to help pirates to get away from them.

  CHAPTER 5

  Roddy returned about twice a week, but Vlid came almost every day with a small amount of food. I always fed him and chatted with him or, rather, at him. He level of attention suggested he understood what I said, but he never responded with more than an unintelligible mutter.

  It was safe to talk to him. He appeared to understand, but his inability to talk made it so that I could confide in him with confidence that my secrets would be kept, although possibly not understood. I told him about Geltor, and how he courted me, and how I loved him so much. But after a long time, I started putting together the things he said. He talked about how much easier working in the tavern was than fishing. He wondered how old my parents were, and how he could help them.

  “Geltor was too smart to ask all the questions at once,” I told Vlid. “But when I put it all together, I realized that he wanted to marry me and take over the tavern when my parents died. My mother was sixty-one and my father was sixty-seven. Geltor realized they couldn’t run the tavern many years longer. That would have been all right if he loved me.”

  Vlid’s mutter sounded like a question, but I couldn’t understand any words.

  “It’s the oldest story there is. I found out there was another woman, a widow who owned a fishing boat. He married her a month after I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. Marrying her made him captain, not crew, and he could give orders and earn a higher percent of the catch.” It felt good to tell someone. I felt terribly guilty about sleeping with Geltor. It was a betrayal of how I was raised. When it was over, I was too proud to talk to my parents, although I suspected they guessed.

  After I talked to Vlid, I realized I hardly ever thought about Geltor. I continually mourned my parents, but with
Geltor, I just regretted losing the illusion that I was loved by the man I loved. It is harder to mourn something I never existed.

  One day I brought The Wisdom of Ezant downstairs and curled up and read it in one of the comfortable chairs that were clustered in part of the main room. Lazily, I stayed in my seat when Vlid brought in food. I saw him put it away and wondered that a man intelligent enough to know where the food belonged didn’t talk. He came over and sat on a nearby chair.

  I felt guilty about my lack of religious services, but the Ezant bible helped me feel in touch with my god. I started reading out loud and Vlid honored me with his attention. The beauty of the words struck me, as they always did. Finally, tired of reading, I said, “I wish I had more to read, but I only own six books.”

  Vlid stood up and looked around the main room. No one was there. He gestured to me to follow him. We walked up to the third floor and down a corridor. He hesitated slightly but found a room. The room wasn’t a bedroom, as I expected, but a hodgepodge of items. There were boxes on the floor and piles of junk. I realized it wasn’t random junk. It was mainly things for children. There were three cradles, two different sized rocking horses, a ball, a hoop, and various small toys, including carved and stuffed animals. All were covered with dust. I never saw any children in the village near The Lodge except a few babies and toddlers in the cottages.

  Vlid opened a wooden box filled with books. I expected to find children’s books, but the first was a history book and the second was a novel, both intended for adults. I intended to take them both, but he raised an index finger.

  “Only one?”

  He raised the index finger of his other hand and then switched positions of his hands.

  “One at a time?”

  He pointed to my copy of The Wisdom of Ezant with one hand and the box of books with the other. He switched hands.

  “You want me to leave a book?”

  He nodded.

  “But this is my bible, the one my mother brought with her when she married.”

  He didn’t move, but I could see he wasn’t happy.

  “What if I leave another book from my room here, in exchange for one of these?”

  He smiled and nodded.

  I returned to my room and put my least valued book in the box. It was only after I made a second exchange that I realized the toys were covered with at least a year of dust, but the books were clearly handled more recently.

  Amapola finished making the men’s clothing and then started making some for herself. I wore clothing my mother made, which was easy to make and practical. Amapola’s clothing hugged her body with seams in places it never occurred to me they belonged. She also tastefully embroidered flowers and birds on them, with a few tiny beads in the center of a flower or as the eye of a bird. The results were stunning, and I admired everything she made, although her only response was a brief thanks. She talked to me in Ship Town. What was different here?

  Lina didn’t talk to me at all. When Lina finished repairing shutters, she started making shelves for some of the bedrooms. Once, when I was making noodles, she helped me. We made noodles but didn’t make friends.

  I hung them out to dry all over The Lodge and was starting to pick them up when Vlid appeared. He looked at the noodles in innocent wonder, and I explained what they were as I took them down. Roddy came in as I was picking up the last of them, so I decided to use them to make a dish for all five of us.

  I suspect Roddy’s presence caused the two women to join us at the meal. Amapola tried to flirt with Roddy, and he responded by flirting with Lina. Amapola became annoyed and sulked. Roddy succeeded in getting Lina to say more to him than she said to me in a week.

  “Roddy,” I said when the meal was almost over. “I have a favor to ask. I would like to do the Ezant twig ceremony, but it’s a little hard with one person. There are no twigs nearby, but splinters from split wood would work. We could each hold two twigs.” There were only a few small trees on the island. They were grown in clumps behind a fence. I suspected they were fruit trees, and the fence was to protect them from the goats. Grass was plentiful, but gardens were watered from barrels that collected rainwater from roofs.

  “Of course,” Roddy said. “We have two other gods that should also be recognized.”

  The Controller god and the rainmaker god. He wasn’t going to let Lina or Amapola know I worshipped two gods by implying he worshipped two gods.

  We went through a ceremony for Roddy’s god. I’d participated in it before and had no qualms on doing it again. The Controller god’s ceremony was next. Roddy did that with my father for many years and was familiar enough with the ceremony so that no one would know that it was for me. The Controller god’s magic made his worshipers better people, because they had the habit of helping others, making him an easy god to worship.

  Lina, Amapola, and Vlid watched these ceremonies in silence. It came time for us to do the Ezant twig ceremony. I pulled four splinters off a split log and lit a candle. I intended for us to use one in each hand, because two weren’t enough. I brought out a metal bowl that would work for the ceremony.

  We lit the splinters from the candle. While we were doing so, Lina went over to the log and pulled off two more splinters. I saw no point in telling her that she only needed one, but she offered one to Amapola, who refused it with a shake of her head. To my surprise, Vlid reached for a splinter. Lina gave it to him, and they both lit their splinters. Roddy and I recited:

  Each twig can be afire,

  But the flame is small and slight.

  Every person can aspire

  To reach the greatest height.

  Roddy and I put our splinters in the bowl. Lina and Vlid followed suit.

  The twigs combined can make a blaze

  That makes the nights as light as days.

  We stepped back as the six splinters gave a satisfying flare.

  Together we can reach the peak.

  Alone we each are small and weak.

  Lina recited the last words with us. How did she know what they were? Before I could ask her, she left the room. I looked at Amapola, who was crying. Forgetting my original question, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything.”

  Amapola sulked the next day, but Lina was her usual uncommunicative self. The following day, the men returned with loot. Well, they called it trade goods, but it appeared to be loot. The island women returned just minutes before the men reached the top of the stairs. Milea came up the stairs with the men, dressed in her peasant clothing.

  “We sold the Bat Bell and the Manta Ray,” Merko explained as his men were bringing their luggage through the common room, “And that led to good profits. We bought two more ships, the Sea Skimmer and the Red Lion. Jerot will captain the Red Lion.”

  “Can I help by taking a trip?” I asked. “I’d like to see the ships.”

  “We can always use more help,” Merko said. “Milea can cook dinner.”

  Kalten said, “Heleen cooks better.” A couple of men who overheard this confirmed they agreed with his opinion. I wondered if Kalten remembered eating what I cooked at the Pelican.

  Merko said to Milea while the men were praising my cooking, “Next time clean up before I come, rather than rush down to the harbor.”

  “I couldn’t wait to see you,” she said. She made it sound believable. Did she really care for him? If so, why was she hiding that she wasn’t in The Lodge during his absence. And, where was she?

  It was time to earn some potential support. “I’ll put on a stew and then go down, giving Milea time to make herself more beautiful,” I said, pleased with the compliment about my cooking, but realizing it was deserved. Milea was a bad cook.

  I had a suspicion I wanted to verify by looking at the ships. The Manta Ray was an ideal pirate ship, fast, with straight sides. Why would they want to get rid of her?

  I moved into the kitchen to start working. Merko spoke to Milea but seemed to use an overly loud voice. For my benefit? “Th
ree of the men got into a tavern brawl and need to recuperate. They’ll need a little nursing. Blito jumped ship. Clean out his room and Jerot can see who gets his possessions.” His voice dropped to a lower level and I couldn’t hear more.

  I interpreted Merko’s words differently than he intended. The tavern brawl was a fight with some poor ship that resisted. Blito probably died in that fight. It made me all the more eager to confirm my suspicions.

  The Red Lion was red, all right, but it was the Manta Ray, repainted with a few minor repairs. Was the Manta Ray too well known? Would she have trouble in any harbor, because who wanted to provision pirates? I wanted to look over the ship more carefully, but my standing there and looking at the ships called too much attention. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for anyway. Blood? Something to let me know that I was serving killers? What could I do? I was pretty certain Merko wouldn’t let me go. He wouldn’t take me to a busy port. Fainting Goat Island was large, and perhaps I could hide on it, but no one had an incentive to help me. They were all cowed by the pirates.

  CHAPTER 6

  Dinner was a festive occasion. Amapola wore one of her new dresses and helped serve, although she stayed in the kitchen, just filling plates. Merko pulled out a package for her, a length of red silk. Lina was given some new tools, nails, and screws. I was given jars of spices and bags of dried fruit. It told me what Merko thought of us. Amapola was decorative, Lina was a carpenter, and I was the cook. The gifts weren’t for us, but for the pirates. I was tired of it. I wasn’t an actress and didn’t want to spend my time pretending.

  “What, no thank you?” Merko said when I took the gifts to the kitchen without saying anything.

  “I should thank you for making it easier for me to please you?” I said, letting my annoyance show. “I appreciate working in a well-stocked kitchen, but don’t pretend these are for me.” I gestured to the kitchen to show I meant the food he gave me.