Page 23 of Of Magic and Rum
Silence. Pure irritating silence.
“No, Anne.” I slip the hat on my head and slap it for good measure. “I did not soil a perfectly good hat. Happy?”
Anne snatches the hat and flops it over her hair. “Hardly.”
Squid is walking on deck, which is an unusual sight, considering he only ever comes down from the crow’s nest during a storm. He typically even sleeps up there during the night. But what shocks me to the core is the sight of him—emptying the latrine bucket.
“Anne, dearest.” I trace my fingers through my beard, focusing on Squid gleefully performing one of Anne’s chores andsmilingas he does it.
Anne’s neck turns rosy.
“Did you somehow swindle Squid into doing your chores?” I flick my finger in his direction.
She waves across the deck at Squid, and he waves back. They grin at each other. “Yes. I told him I’d give him a portion of my daily food rations if he did it.”
Won Squid’s heart through his stomach. It doesn’t surprise me in the least.
“You know you can’t share rations? It’s to ensure everyone doesn’t die of thirst or starve.” This is partially a load of shit, but I want to see how far I can take this.
“If I faint on deck, you can be the first to stand over my unconscious body and tell me you told me so, but I assure you I don’t need as much food as he does. Do you know how much energy he uses swinging around up there?” Anne squints at the crow’s nest. “And,Captain, we’re not consuming any more rations than given. We haven’t broken any rules.”
Fuck. Either this woman is after my heart or leading me into a trap to run her dagger through it. Whichever the case, I’m—intrigued.
“Point taken. Now then—” moving to a barrel with several swords sticking out of it, I snatch one and point to her hat “—since you no longer have the excuse of the sun being in your eyes it’s time to prove your worth, Bonny.” I toss the sword to her, and the test begins with how she catches it—or doesn’t.
She notonlycatches it, but with a flourish. She twirls the blade as if to check its balance and grace.
And here I thought I’d have to pull most of my swings. This issomuch better.
I beat the hilt of my cutlass against the mast, signaling to the crew that a duel is about to commence. They gather around us in droves, creating a cage of bodies and leaving us enough room on deck to maneuver but no chance of retreating. Not that I’d ever back out on a fight, friendly or otherwise. It’s still to be determined whether Anne truly is friend or foe.
“Are there rules I should know?” Anne asks, already starting to circle me, crossing one booted foot over the other.
I follow her, pace for pace, tossing the handle in my palm. “Are there rules of engagement when you’re fighting an enemy?”
“No?” Anne gives a slight head shake.
“You have your answer.” I strike without giving her a chance to stew on it any longer.
Her blade swings skyward, blocking me, but her mouth falls open. And in the next moment, the stunned expression melts into determination, and thatsassI’ve already begun to like about her blossoms. She dodges to the left and right and slashes downward. I slide backward with my hands at my sides to avoid the tip of her blade slicing my chest.
“Is that how you got that scar, Jack?” Anne spins the sword, her words as daunting as her foot placement. “Poor timing?”
I flash her a grin. “Noticed my scar, did you?” Reaching one hand to my back, I keep my sword pointed in her direction and yank my shirt off, tossing it aside.
No rules.
“Seriously?” Anne pauses and points at my naked torso with her cutlass. Fighting her urge to ogle me is a losing battle with each passing second.
“Feel free to teach me a lesson and follow suit, lovely.” I take two strides forward and launch at her right side.
Anne’s jaw clenches, and she swings her blade to catch mine in a hold before landing her foot into my stomach, pushing me away, and leaving a boot print on my skin.
Chuckling, I wipe the mud from my belly. “You’re full of surprises, Anne. I’d ask you how you learned to fight like that, but you’d undoubtedly lie and claim your dad fought in the Nine Years’ War or something equally asinine.”
“You have meallfigured out. So, why ask?” A new kind of fury blares in Anne’s eyes, and like oil to a fire, she’s at me, slashing, slicing, punching, and elbowing.
Our blades circle the other, and I lunge forward at her arm. Anne deflects, turning her body away from it and using her palm to push the blunt side of the weapon away from her.
