Chapter 5 Pretence

Sha watched as the command of the Brothel Beauty paraded past him, Marlo the only man a towering thorn among deadly roses, their breastplates, pants, and boots adorned with panels of coloured leather. The sight of Morgan stole his breath, the crowd shrinking away from her as if she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Under the brim of her captain’s hat, she wore an icy stare, a thick line of black paint across her eyes adding further intensity to her gaze. But Sha knew better, he even found himself pondering that the overall effect made the crew of the Beauty look like peahens in mating season. Of course, instead of feathers they had cruel looking swords and colourful leather straps tied and woven into their arms and hair. If he didn’t know any better, he would have taken their icy looks to mean they were unapproachable. Matter-of-factly as the retinue strolled past, Bella punched a pirate in the face for appraising Meena from behind, stating, “I would gladly give her the clap.” No one moved to rectify the injustice, rather they moved away from the offender, unwilling to be guilty by association. Leaping up from the ground, the wronged pirate did not retaliate, instead he turned back to his bottle of rum, mumbling obscenities under his breath.

After the parade had past, Sha fell in with the rest of the crowd, trying his best to stay inconspicuous. He inadvertently overheard some colourful stories about his new crew mates, some fanciful, others clever and those about the captain just plan irrational. I mean, why would anyone bathe in the blood of their enemies, the logistics of such a venture alone made him stifle a laugh. Most of the stories about Morgan involved various versions of her storming Rorg’s ship because of an inappropriate comment. Sorting fact from fiction wasn’t easy; he needed to find out more about the origins of his new crewmates, he needed to know more about Morgan. As Sha had never been to a pirate funeral, he didn’t know what to expect. The people of Crewtown seemed to have a symbiotic relationship with their pirate counterparts, together they had a very specific way of doing things. He watched on as the captains and their first mates took their places at the end of the longest dock, crew and townsfolk alike lined the rest of the way. One by one custom-made coffins were carried down the long walk towards the end of the dock, every now and then someone would pour rum into an open coffin or place an item upon the dead, no one seemed to be crying. Before long the rum-soaked caskets reached the end of the pier, then one by one were carried down a ramp and into the sea. Nia stood on the ramp water to her waist, a white dress floating around her, as she prayed silently over the dead, her ethereal presence set her apart from the harsh procession upon the dock. The bearers waited for a captain or a family member to place coins on closed eyelids before lightly pushing them out into the harbour. Then archers, Bella among them, loosed fiery arrows, setting the rum-soaked caskets alight. The water reflecting a red haze in the setting sun; the sight beautiful yet sorrowful at the same time. Sha felt like he had witnessed something special which he hoped to never see again.

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“I call a captain’s council!” Morgan asserted. The other captains started talking all at once, not happy to have to go to a council on the day of a funeral. Which just meant that their drinking time was being interrupted. Affixing her most evil smile, she continued mocking them mercilessly, “I’m not cruel. Go, have a few drinks, it’s a funeral after all.” Morgan met the gazes before her as she lowered her voice to a dangerous level, “We parley in two hours.” She stepped away, the uplifting knowledge that the other captains wouldn’t dare touch a drop of alcohol lightened her stride. A meeting of the most dishonourable people in all Mierma required the need for all wits to be at your disposal.

As Morgan strode back down the dock hand on hilt, she was struck by the sight of Sha trying to hide in the crowd, succeeding in sticking out like a sore thumb. It was clearly time to give him some tuition on the finer points of piracy. The crowd parted around her as she leaned in deliberately close to Sha’s ear. Enjoying herself more than foresight allowed, she whispered lowly, “Break times over my friend, I need you back at the ship.” After a sharp turn she strode onwards.

“I forgot to polish the captain’s shrunken head collection,” Sha exclaimed in a believingly panicked tone. Pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing Morgan headed towards her ship.

Morgan met Sha at the gangplank, she offered educational words, “You know they don’t polish shrunken heads right. They are preserved by the ritual, which includes boiling them in a mixture of tannins and they coat them in ash which further helps to preserve them.”

“Why would you know that?” Sha exclaimed.

“Because my friend, if you live a lie, you had better be a good liar,” Morgan responded. Feeling an overwhelming need to be doing, she proceeded to fire out what she assumed was thorough instructions, “Come, we need to make you look the part. Everyone else is busy drinking and information gathering. They don’t know you and an unknown element will put them all on their best behaviour.”

“Ah, What? Who is they?” Sha asked.

Realising she wasn’t making much sense, Morgan tried again, this time slowing her words, “Sorry, I’ve called a captain’s council. You are my back up; I need you to look the part. Everyone else is trying to get people inebriated then milk them for information. I think that’s everything.” Breathless from exertion, a darkness gripped her heart.

“Morgan, are you okay?” Sha’s concern laced question took her by surprise.

Repaying his kindness with honesty, she paused before replying, the rawness of her feelings annoyingly evident, “Yes, or I will be. Pete’s funeral brought things home for me. I haven’t caught who is behind this and I don’t know enough about them. Actually, I know next to nothing. He didn’t deserve this.”

Sha looked at her with concern in his mercilessly expressive eyes. He took her hands, the simple act bringing a surprising amount of warmth, “I understand, more than you know. How can I help?” His gentle words almost her undoing.

 “Time to make you look the part,” Morgan blurted before liberating her hands. Once again, she moved towards purpose, not bothering to check if Sha followed.  

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Sha was led below decks to the cargo hold, otherwise known as Marlo’s workshop. Like a storm Morgan whipped around him, perusing through rows of solid wooden chests, throwing clothes his way, talking to herself. Interestingly, he found her external monologue to be charmingly refreshing. Gone was the fake facade, this was the undeniably real Morgan. Lost in his wonder, she had to clear her throat loudly before he realised that she was standing before an open cabinet which took up most of one wall, the contents providing Sha with an optical high. Expertly hung and well looked after was nearly every weapon he could imagine; his happiness waylaid when his eyes found a King’s Guard’s longsword; it had all the markings of a lieutenant’s weapon. Morgan offered an explanation after noticing where his eyes had rested, “You can trust me, Sha. At no time have I, or any of my crew killed a King’s Guard. You would have noticed by now that we have a different set of rules to the standard pirate. That sword was here when I took the ship from the previous captain, I assure you.” Nodding, he picked up the sword then executed a few practice swings, the weapon a hand and a half in length. He glanced up to find Morgan perusing his efforts. “Looks like we have found your weapon of choice, although it is far from the length of a cutlass,” she affirmed, “Now we must put on our pirate faces. I find it best to pretend I can smell something awful.” Sha chortled then realised that Morgan was quite serious. Thereafter, he was schooled in piracy, starting with the dos and do nots, he was quickly overwhelmed by the intricacies of pirate etiquette. Even with his austere upbring it had never occurred to him that there were so many rules around how you spoke or whether to show dissent.

Sha was not a fan of this cut of pant, not to mention the leather chafed his nether regions; he was decked out in a similar fashion to the captain, complete with leather straps around his arms and in his hair, feeling like a dandy at court, he was finding it easy to scowl in an unapproachable way. After Morgan had pulled a lever, a large round table appeared on the deck. The table quickly filled with unsavoury characters, he dutifully poured a tankard of rum for every new captain that took their place, assessing them as he did so. Morgan tapped her dagger upon the table to start the proceedings, all talking died down, the meeting goers waiting for her to speak. And speak she did, her strangely pleasant words leaving Sha awestruck, “I call this meeting to order, let’s get straight to the point, shall we?” Although she didn’t speak like a normal pirate, an air of madness edged her words. “I plan on finding those responsible and slaughtering every last one of them. Crewtown is my home and they have attacked it. If anyone knows anything and doesn’t offer it, I will kill them as well.” Morgan’s statement was met with quiet, then a well-muscled pirate with salt and pepper hair stood to her left. Sha noted for a pirate, he was handsome and held himself in a dangerously confident manner, all went quiet. If Morgan was the Alpha Female, this man was certainly her male counterpart.

“Mary, there is no need for threats. I think in this case we are actually all in agreement. I will start by saying I’m sorry for the loss of your friend. Secondly, if there is anything I can do, I will help.  No one attacks my home and gets away with it either.” The Alpha male’s words set him apart from his counterparts, his manner controlled.

Morgan slammed her hands upon the table then stood matching her aggressive movement with a sarcastic outburst, “Kind words, Castain, does anyone else want to offer such complacencies or am I going to get something that I really want, like INFORMATION!” Morgan sneered, slamming her dagger into the table she met the gazes of those around her, daring them to speak. No one moved.

It was Castain who spoke first, “Be calm Mary, I have what you want, one of my men saw a king’s navy vessel moored at The Gap. The attackers came from that ship, they ascended the cliff walls without ropes. We can all guess where that ship came from, Bastien.” Sha was silenced by shock, he couldn’t believe the words this man was uttering, it was all lies.

Morgan snatched her dagger up from the table then in a sudden and sharp change of tone made a cheerful announcement, “Alright then, boys, if anyone else has information, stay. Otherwise go and get drunk, our dead require it.” The captains did not need to be told twice, as if being on the Beauty was stressful to them, they seemed to relax as soon as their feet touched the end of the gangplank. Sha was happy to see them go, he breathed, expecting strain to follow expelled air. Then to his surprise, he heard Morgan say, “Both of you step into my office.” She was referring to the liar, he had stayed. Sha waited for his adversary to move first. As they walked the decks, he watched every muscle, step and glance, his senses honed to the clear danger before him.