by Billy Wong
"Yes, my name is Derrick, and my friend is that Finn. And you are?"
The man smiled widely, showing what few crooked yellow teeth were left. "I'm Roy, pleased to meet your company. My captain will be happy to meet the hero of Kayland, for sure!"
Derrick wondered if admiration of Finn could help convince the captain to sail them. "Yeah, I'm sure a night of drinks with Finn will do wonders to lighten some of the gloom around here. Say, how are shipping conditions right now?"
Roy stared him up and down as if sizing him up. "You don't know? Nobody sails nowadays, not with the Sevrians prowling the coast. Well, except the Merry Reaper."
"Merry Reaper? That's some name for a merchant ship."
"Merchants?" Roy laughed, spittle flying into Derrick's face. "They do sell things, but I doubt they're what you'd generally associate with the word. Some say they're pirates, but I dunno about that either. Never heard of them getting caught attacking another ship. But they sail from here and come back filthy rich, somehow. I bet they'd take you where you want, Sevrian navy be damned, for the right price."
This sounded dangerous, but might be the only option unless Rose and Finn found something. "Do you know where I can reach the crew of this Merry Reaper?"
"Heh, I doubt you'll be able to handle talking to them. Oh right, your friends. Maybe you do got a shot. Stay here and I'll point them out when they come in. Hope your buddies are back when I do." So they waited, chatting about whatever Roy wanted to; mostly stories about women and sea weather. Derrick had grown rather bored when Roy paused his speech about omens behind cloud shapes to say, "Hey, there they are!"
He pointed towards a group of five who seated themselves at a particularly beat up table in the darkest corner of the dark tavern, and began talking too quietly to be heard. Derrick bit his lip with apprehension, and wished Rose and Finn were there to watch his back—and front, for that matter. He did not rise right away, and Roy patted his back.
"Go on, go on! Sitting here staring won't get you anywhere!"
Derrick shook his head. "I need to think a bit about what to say first." He hoped his friends would return before the men left. They sat there for what seemed an eternity, Roy constantly asking if he was ready. Then, the group rose as if to leave.
"Aw, you miss your chance!"
Not about to let Roy's words be true, he forced himself up. Still no Rose or Finn. He sucked in a deep breath and walked over to the men. "Greetings, my name is Derrick and I seek the services of the Merry Reaper. I assure you, you will be well compensated for your work." The men laughed among themselves and continued to walk, and he followed them outside. He touched one's shoulder. "Please, it's just a little trip. Don't you want the money?"
A hand shot out with snakelike speed to grab him around the throat and pin him against the wall. "Your money, little boy? I think we'll get a better deal just taking it, don't you think?" His voice was calm, as though performing a routine act, and he pulled a knife from his belt.
Was he actually going to kill him here? But the man didn't stab Derrick quite yet, instead starting to menace his money pouch with the point. Damn, he should have been more cautious! He thought of fighting back, but there were five of them, and he would only make things worse if he did resist. He steeled himself, preparing to fight only if the men decided to take it further than mere robbery.
Before it could tear cloth, the knife flew backwards away from his pouch, along with its wielder. Derrick stared as the beefy sailor, if that was what he was, sailed through the air and onto his surprised friends. Rose sighed, having grabbed the man one-handed by the back of his shirt and thrown him like a doll.
"Too hasty, you brutes. Look before you leap."
"Rose! You're here!"
She smiled. "I wasn't about to leave you alone for long. You're much too intrepid to stay out of trouble." The toughs were getting up, some fight left in them. One charged ahead, and went down to a gut punch that drove him to vomit. Rose ducked past the next and felled him with a elbow to the back of the head. She grabbed another by the hair and bashed his head into the fourth's so both slid senseless to the floor.
Derrick's initial aggressor leapt at her from atop the tavern steps, but the sturdy woman caught him in midair and dashed him to the ground, driving all the air from his body. She spat on the gasping man. "Be glad you didn't make me use this," she muttered as she fingered the hilt of her trusty sword.
Rose then looked forcefully at Derrick. "You tried to bargain with these ruffians by yourself? What made you think they wouldn't just rob you for the payment you offered them?"
"I just didn't think of it at the time," he said, dropping his gaze. "But these guys could have taken us to Mulhiri, if you hadn't just kicked the snot out of them. What are we going to do now?"
"Maybe they can still take us there. How about I ask your leader?" This she addressed to the still-prone man who had drawn his knife on Derrick, to which he responded with a snarl. But Rose pulled him to his feet, and gave him a glance at the magic ruby. "There's plenty more just like this. How's about we strike a deal, or should I just take your ship for free?"
"The captain's on the ship," he said after a time. "You'll know it when you see it. But don't think you can just keep bullying us. Our boss eats beasts like you for lunch."
Her only reply was a knowing smile, which did a fine job of putting doubt into the would-be robber's eyes.
#
"Shouldn't we get Finn first?" Derrick asked nervously as they scanned the harbor for the Merry Reaper. Their informant had been telling the truth when he said they'd easily recognize the ship. The black galley stuck out like a broken thumb, old, battered, and eminently frightening. A laughing, dancing skeleton graced the tattered black flag.
Rose shook her head. "No, he's probably still busy talking to the sailors. Besides, it's probably just the captain and maybe a friend or two keeping him company. What's the problem?" She began up the ramp to the Reaper, and Derrick hesitated to follow. He wasn't buying into the thug's words, was he? Was everyone losing faith in her?
Though she'd never admitted it, the shift in strangers' attention towards Finn since he killed Prince Wilner made her a bit uneasy. She had no doubt she was still the better fighter between them—she'd beaten Wilner by herself, after all—but wondered if other people remembered that fact.
A hard kick not only opened the locked door to what Rose took to be the captain's room, but sent the heavy wooden board flying inside. That ought to make a good impression.
But the man sitting with his back turned sounded calm as he said in a husky voice, "Beating up my men, breaking my door—is this how you treat someone you seek to put your life in the hands of? There's no subtlety or class in you, is there?"
"Your men tried to rob my friend," Rose growled, and reached towards the captain's shoulder to turn him around. As her fingers brushed the silk jacket, the masked man spun with impressive speed, a dagger flashing through the air. But Rose caught his wrist before the blade came close and squeezed until he dropped it with a scream. A high-pitched, female scream. Rose tore the mask away, revealing a handsome woman of about forty, though her prematurely gray hair suggested greater age.
"Rose Agen. Big one, aren't you?" the grinning woman breathed.
Rose glowered. "And who are you?"
The captain smiled bashfully. "I suppose a great warrior like you wouldn't care to know a lowly local sailor like me. I'm Morgan Cross, successor to my late husband's little business. Mine's quite the name around here, but I guess not elsewhere. You know, I've wanted to meet you ever since I first heard about you. The woman who is the only warrior ever to defeat Prince Wilner in single combat—what an awesome fighter."
Rose wasn't impressed by the flattery. "From mocking me one minute to lauding me the next—which is it?"
"I wouldn't presume to know you, but it's obvious you have your good and bad points like anyone else. As for sailing you, we're not a tour boat, and I don't admire you quite enough to ma
ke that exception."
Rose brushed aside thick black hair, revealing an huge diamond earring which caught the meager sunlight and turned it into a brilliant sparkle. Derrick stared, apparently not having noticed her jewelry before. The captain gaped with him, and Rose waited just long enough to speak.
"That tempt you to make an exception? I've got plenty more jewels, if you want."
Eyes fixed on the earring, worth perhaps a child's weight in gold, Morgan remained silent until Rose let her hair fall over it. Finally the captain regained her composure. "And you'd trust me not to rob you on board," she asked tauntingly, "now that you let me know the wealth you're carrying?"
Rose only shrugged, almost welcoming her to try. "So you're going to take us to Mulhiri or what?"
"All right," Morgan said with a sly grin, "it's close enough to where we're going. For the earring and some gems, then."
#
Far from the docks, Rose took off the heavy earring and stuffed it back into her pouch. This prompted Derrick to ask about the incredible jewelry. "Where did that earring come from? You weren't wearing it earlier today."
"I took it out of my pouch before we got to the docks and put it on. I think the effect is better when it's worn. But I don't like the feeling of such a heavy weight on my ear." She grinned. "As for where I got it in the first place, I've had it for months.
"Me and Finn have all the wealth we'd ever need, really. All the stuff we've found exploring and taken from defeated foes is probably worth more than most noblemen's estates. That particular earring's part of a set, taken off the head of one of Wilner's foreign allies on the battlefield. It's got a little sentimental value, I suppose, but I still have the other one."
Derrick smiled. He supposed he'd known his friends must be rich from their exploits, but never thought much of it. It touched him too, that Rose continued her dangerous lifestyle in spite of her wealth to help others, and Finn for love of her.
Finn met his friends as they arrived back at the tavern, eager to share his good news. "I found us a ride to Mulhiri!"
"For what price?" Rose asked as Derrick looked at him in surprise. All that fuss with the Merry Reaper for nothing?
"Just our share of the work," Finn replied happily. "The Tortoise 3 merchant ship is going to Mulhiri anyway, and they won't mind a couple helping hands."
Rose smiled. "Sounds fine. We found ourselves somebody who would take us too, but you got the better deal. So, when do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning. Soon we'll be on the open sea, and on our way to the land of the enemy."
Derrick was a little alarmed by Finn's choice of words. Sparing a pleading glance at Rose, he said, "We have to remember we're not there to fight the Sevrians, but to see if the magic compass is pointing there, and if so try to find whatever it's attuned to."
He didn't get quite the help he wanted from Rose. "What happens, happens. We're not going to pick a fight, but if the Sevrians get in our way, we won't just let them stop us will we?" Then she must have caught the worry in Derrick's eyes, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll do our best to stay out of trouble, okay? It's just that trouble loves to follow us, so we have to be ready for the worst."
"You think we should tell Morgan we won't be needing her services? I think she wouldn't take kindly to finding out she won't be getting your jewels."
Rose seemed to think about it before shaking her head. "You do want us to avoid trouble, right? I doubt Morgan would let us back out of our deal for a cheaper ride so easily. Best just to let her find out herself, when we're long gone."
Derrick hastened to bed, seeking a good night's sleep in preparation for more adventure. He found his room's curtains a great hassle to keep open and finally gave up, deciding a breeze wasn't worth the frustration. When morning came, he awakened easily and headed for the docks eager to continue the journey.
#
Finn stood with Jeffrey Trude, the wrinkled captain of the Tortoise 3, as they chatted about past exploits and sampled the mariner's fine gin. Against his intentions, he had been egged into sharing the tale of Rose's victory at the Mighty Man mixed athletics competition—consisting of such manly contests as boxing, wrestling, armwrestling, lifting wagons, throwing large rocks, bending metal rods, and matching strength with farm animals—at the Masel Spirits Festival two years ago.
After being goaded into the event despite her obvious initial reservations, she'd beaten out a host of enormous men—including Finn himself, though he avoided mentioning that—to win the provincial "Mighty Man" title, which she'd immediately forfeited to him when she heard it proclaimed.
The captain had looked intently at Finn throughout the story, and sounded a little intimidated when he asked, "She's a rough one, isn't she? I'm surprised you like her so much. She sure seems like a lot to handle."
"Rougher than me? Of course not. Where we walk, that outer toughness is a must. She's a sweet, tender little thing on the inside, where it matters. Rose is great, she just goes with me so well. Her company makes anyplace we go together home."
Jeffrey might have frowned, but Finn couldn't really tell through his thick grey-black beard. "So you've never felt threatened by her strength? You must have a firmer hold on your own manhood than most, then." Finn burst into booming laughter which was heard all across the deck as it doubled him over. Jeffrey stared. "What did I say that was so funny?"
It took some time before he could get any words to come out whole. Finally, he held back his mirth long enough to gasp, "Hold... manhood!" When he was done, he stood up straight and took several deep, steadying breaths. "I wouldn't say I've never felt threatened by her, but I quickly realized my foolishness, and learned to accept that she is as great a warrior as I."
"Then you do indeed have a firmer hold on your man—uh, masculinity—than most," Jeffrey said, almost sending Finn back into his spasms of laughter. "Indeed, young love is blissful. Cherish your woman, while you can. How did she ever get so strong? I mean no offense, but it seems downright unnatural."
"Rose is strong, yeah, but she's a big girl. She's not some willowy lass cursed by magic, if that's what you're thinking. I've known her for years now, and never seen anything strange about her besides her great strength and even more insane endurance. She lives through things no one else could dream of surviving."
He paused. "If anything, I was the cursed one—with stupidity that is—for a while, when I insisted she quit fighting to be my housewife and drove her away into grave danger. Good thing she's as tough as she is."
"Why, thank you. Always glad to see someone taking responsibility for their mistakes." Before Finn really took in her presence, Rose traced his mouth with a finger and laughed. "You really should learn to make it less obvious you're talking about me, though. You've always got this goofy grin on your face when you do."
"I do not grin goofily when I talk about you! Take that back or I'll wring your little neck!" In response Rose took the initiative, grabbing him in a headlock before he could do the same. He tried to lift her up into the air, but she shifted her weight and put him on his back on the deck. Then she released the hold and stood laughing. Finn stayed down a moment longer, before springing to his feet and joining her in her merriment.
#
The days rolled along, calm for all but Derrick, whose seasickness continually worsened and forced him to lie abed in his quarters, giving his friends cause for concern. He assured them he would be fine once they got to shore, but as the hours stretched out in misery, he wondered just how long that would be.
It got to the point where he thought he couldn't move anymore, but Derrick surprised himself by leaping out of his cot when a heavy blow rocked the hull and a massive ballista bolt crashed halfway through his room, missing him by scant feet. On shaky legs he stumbled on deck to see a huge warship closing in, part of its crew preparing hooks and strange, metal-tipped planks to board while others shot flaming arrows at the Tortoise 3. He drew his sword, but then doubled over with nausea, and had to du
ck behind a barrel and wait for the pangs to stop.
#
Rose looked around the deck and shook her head. Clearly, the men of the Tortoise weren't prepared for ranged ship-to-ship combat. Most simply ducked behind whatever cover they could find, the few who moved struggling to put out flames that sprang up in the arrows' wake. They'd been attacked after the other ship signaled for surrender in the name of Sevria and Jeffrey, fearing a pirate trick, shot at it with a crossbow. Rose downed a few archers with her bow until the enemy was nearly alongside, then drew her sword and waited.
#
Men came one after the other down the long steel-clawed plank which had clamped itself to the ship like an arm, some shouting passionately in their excitement, others completely silent. Most, however, screamed in much the same way when they met Finn at the end of the line and his mace knocked them dying into the water. He looked to where another plank connected the ships and saw Rose doing a similar task, only she was advancing forward as she fought. That left the third plank, where the enemy almost freely boarded the Tortoise, the sailors doing little to stop them.
Finn raised his mace then, as two more men came onto "his" plank, and smashed it down with incredible force onto the wood. The bridge broke near the end, dumping all upon it into the ocean. Amused at the ease with which he had foiled the acclaimed Sevrian engineering, Finn ran to the other plank to aid the beleaguered sailors.
#
The brown-skinned soldiers quit trying to stop Rose face to face, as instead two of their strongest grabbed the plank on their end and attempted to tip her off. They hesitated in surprise when she leapt the remainder of the plank and landed between them. Her sword pierced one between the ribs, and the rim of her shield broke the neck of the other.
