Page 46 of Blow Me Down
Pangloss flashed me a grin. “Me apologies, lass. Colorful, aye, that she is.” He turned back to Bart, who was lounging on the edge of the desk. “Me point is that Black Corbin’s men are sure to recognize her as one of their ships.”
“Yeah, but I won her off Corbin,” I felt obligated to point out… with a smile of warm satisfaction as I remembered my moment of triumph. “Surely they’ll know she doesn’t belong to Corbin anymore?”
Bart frowned in thought. Pangloss shook his head slowly. “I’m thinkin‘ they won’t. ‘Tis not the sort of a thing a man likes bandied about by the swabbies—
that he’s lost a ship in a duel, and to a woman, yet.”
I rolled my eyes and let that statement go without the comment I wanted to make.
“Ye’ve got a point,” Bart said. The officers murmured their agreement. Bart sent me a speculative glance. “We could use the lass’s ship to infiltrate the blockade fleet. There’s no end of damage she could do then. She might even be able to get to Corbin that way. Killin‘ two birds with one stone… only it won’t be a bird’s guts which’re spilled. Aye, ’tis a good plan, Panny. We’ll send the lass in to kill Corbin, and do what she can to destroy blockade ships from within the fleet.”
“Yarr!” the officers shouted.
“Oh, Lord,” I muttered, wondering how I got myself into these situations. The only thing that kept me from walking out of the room right then and there was the fact that I needed to hear the rest of Bart’s plans so I could judge how to deal with the situation.
“Here, ye’d best take this. ‘Tis Black Corbin’s flag. Ye’ll fly that to get into the fleet, then raise me flag.” Bart handed me another rectangle of cloth. I opened it up to see the design, looking at him in curiosity.
“There’s nothing on it.”
“Aye. Corbin’s flag is a field of black only,” Pangloss said, his face hard. “ ‘Tis a symbol of his black heart.”
“Ah. So, exactly what am I supposed to do?”
By the time I staggered down the hill to the town, my brain was spinning with terms like forlorn hope (volunteers who made the first assault on a place of fortification, such as a manned harbor),masse de decision(troops or ships kept out of a battle until a decisive moment), and redoubt (someone who is in an independent defensive position… in other words, me).
“Man, what a mess. Whom do I think I’m fooling? This whole thing is doomed.”
“Hoy, Cap’n,” Bas said, suddenly appearing at my side as I walked past the graveyard. “What be doomed, other than me life now that ye’re riskin‘ me early death with those baths?”
“Hoy, Bas. Stop picking your ear with your hook; it’s not polite. And I’m not a captain. I’m just a… er… well, I guess technically I’m nothing, since I’m not even really a member of the crew, but we’ll let that go. You can call me Amy.”
“Be ye doomed, then, Amy?”
“Me? Probably.” I smiled at the hopeful look that flickered across the boy’s face, giving in to the urge to rumple his thick black hair. Now that he was cleaned up, deloused, and fed a few days’ worth of steady meals, he was starting to look more like a normal kid and less like a small parody of death. Bran the raven squawked and nudged my hand with his heavy beak. I snatched my hand back, thinking he was going to bite me.
“He likes you,” Bas said. “Ye don’t have to be afraid of him. He don’t hurt people he likes.”
“Ah?” I eyed the ratty-looking bird, then gave his head a few cautious pets.
Even after a couple of baths, the bird was still less than majestic, but he was at least clean. “Nice bird. No biting.”
Bas gave me a juvenile eye roll.
“Just ignore me, Bas. I’m a bit wimpy about things today.”
“What sort of things?”
We continued past the church toward the town square. “Oh, various and sundry issues. For one, Bart thinks he’s sending Corbin a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but the truth is I’m no more a wolf than you are.”
Bas looked thoughtful. “Wolves eat people. I wonder what it feels like to be eaten.”
The memory of Corbin’s mouth on my breast bloomed to full-color, surround-sound, feel-vision, delicious life in my mind, making my stomach go all quivery. With much grit and determination, I dragged my attention back to the subject at hand. “The whole thing is ridiculous. It’s not like I can actually do anything to make a difference.”
The square was bustling with the usual group of women at the well in the center, various children, dogs, and assorted livestock running around, and a few white-haired men who were all that were left to manage the shops after the massacre. I paused at the edge of the square, in the shade of a tailor shop, frowning as I looked around. “Bas, someone mentioned a mine on the island.”
“Aye. Emerald mine. ‘Tis in the belly of the Turtle.”
I glanced behind me at the humpback center of the island, the rounded hemisphere bearing a resemblance to the shell of a turtle, hence the name.
