In Search of Spice, page 19
“Good. Carry on, people. Mactravis, after you have detailed orders for your men, join me. Oh, and reviving ship’s officers is a priority.”
Suzanne went to where the Captain lay and looked at the girl who had been with him. She was indeed older than the others, perhaps thirty though it was hard to tell with these different people. She gestured to the Captain and Strachan and a soldier picked him up and took him to his cabin. She concentrated on the woman.
Really, she could be a Harrheinian, if it were not for her skin, she thought. Her features are regular, no difference, It’s just the skin colour and they all have black hair. No blondes, redheads or even brown. Her thoughts went on as she dropped to a squat beside the woman, looking at her body now. Thin, but not unfit. No boobs to speak about, and none of them do really. No fat showing. Strong, though, the muscles are lean and long.
The woman’s eyes fluttered, and focused on Suzanne. They went wide in surprise and fear. She tried to make a gesture with her hand and realised she was bound. She started to babble in her language.
“Do you speak Belada?” Suzanne asked, beginning to wonder if the hours spent learning had been worthwhile.
“A ship with women on board?” The woman replied in Belada.
“Why not?” Suzanne snapped, “Is this how you always welcome traders?”
The woman blinked. “Trader? What is trader?”
Suzanne was taken aback. “Um, we discuss the value of goods we have, and exchange them. That is why we have a big ship, to carry cargo to swap with you. Our cargo is from far away and valuable to you, yours is very valuable to us when we get home.”
“You no take?” The woman was calming down with this prosaic talk.
“No. Not good. We come every year, exchange goods; you make better goods for us, grow and become richer.”
The woman looked at her. “People not goods,” she snapped with heat.
“We do not trade in people. You see any on this ship?”
The woman sat up and shook herself, seeming to take stock and examined Suzanne. “I Rereau. I junior priestess of the Pahipi. I sorry we welcome you this way. We think you Umayyads.”
“What is an Uma-yat?”
“They come in ships, not so big as yours. One sail, they come, take our boys and girls, kill others, steal our food.”
“How often do they come?”
“Not often. I think long way. Maybe once, two times in 5 years. Very bad when come. We not fighting people. We girls make this plan. It works on them. Two ships at bottom of sea here.” She looked around at the ship and smiled tentatively. “Magic very strong. How you escape?”
Suzanne did not smile back. “Twenty three of my sailors are dead and another six will be soon. What sort of a welcome is that?”
Rereau blinked. “I sorry.”
“Sorry? That does not help my dead men. And what will the survivors think? Their friends killed while they were beside them, fucking, sometimes fucking their friend’s wife! I watched that man die,” she pointed at the second mate. “He was my friend.”
Rereau looked calmly at her. “I six years old when I see my mother raped till dead by foreigners like you, while my father watch with arms and legs chopped off, bleeding to death. My village burn down, and only twenty escape. You foreigners come and destroy us, every year, and now you upset we fight back? This is last island, nowhere else for us to run.”
Suzanne blinked and settled back on her haunches. The woman pressed her attack. “How we know you any different? You come in big ship, we think you take our young people as slaves. And now what you do? You catch us, tie us, now go ashore kill old people? Steal food? Burn houses? Chop up children? Well, you can. We women have failed in saving our people, and you have killed all men.”
Suzanne stood up and turned away, she hadn’t thought anything beyond getting the ship in order. The woman’s words echoed in her head and she called Mactravis and Sara over to her, Sara coming up from the bows where she had been diving into the sea to inspect the damage.
Mactravis spoke first. “We’ve cleaned up the dead; they’re being sewn into cloth for burial. Wounded are in the galley, ready for you to have a look at them. Perryn and Little are working on ships officers, not much luck. I can lead the Pathfinders on a reprisal raid when you are ready, Captain.”
Suzanne looked hard at him, but didn’t respond immediately. She needed to think first, so she nodded at Sara.
“Doesn’t seem to be any damage, no split planks, but the bows are wedged pretty deep into sand. I’ve no idea how much effort it will take to get them out. But we can run out anchors behind the ship and try and pull her off at high tide, which I think should be in about four hours. I will need all the soldiers to turn the capstan, if the crew haven’t recovered. Can we do that before any reprisals? We don’t want to risk losing any men.”
Mactravis snorted at this. “We won’t lose any men. These people are not physically strong and they have no iron - their weapons are stone.”
“It’s priorities as well,” answered Sara, “we need to have flexibility as we don’t know what is ashore. There may be thousands of villagers waiting for us and we haven’t seen any men yet, they may be twice the size.”
“Oh, I know, you’re right, but it is frustrating. We just want some afters.”
“I think you will find the sailors do, too, and it may well be the best remedy for them, to take out their anger and frustration.”
“Enough,” cracked Suzanne. “I am not at all sure we should attack them.”
“Pardon, ma’am, but we must.” Mactravis looked oddly at her. “Otherwise they will think we are weak and always attack us. You would put us in grave danger if you don’t. We need to show them the rewards for attacking our people - ten deaths for every one of ours at least.”
“Ten’s not enough,” snapped Sara, going red in memory of what had happened. “It should be at least....” Her voice trailed away seeing Suzanne’s troubled face.
“We have walked into an ambush laid for other people. Somebody called Umayyads. These islanders are a remnant of what they were. The men have been killed off, and the girls are the fighters. They fled down the islands, trying to get away from slavers.” She told them what she had learnt, troubled.
“Slavers,” said Sara flatly. “I hate slavers. We caught a slaver when I was on the frontier. It was horrible.”
“No men?” Mactravis asked, troubled. “You sure? Damn, it wouldn’t feel right slaughtering women and kids. But they must be punished. What are you going to do, Captain.”
“I don’t bloody know,” she snapped. “I’m a whore pretending to be a fucking officer. I’m not a captain, you be bloody captain and decide!”
“Me? I’m a soldier, I don’t know a thing about ships. Besides, dealing with this sort of thing is outside my training. It’s not in the manual.” He spoke defensively, and two pairs of eyes slid over to Sara.
“Don’t look at me! I’m just a topsailsman.”
“You are the Crown Princess of the Realm,” stated Mactravis flatly. “You are trained to take these decisions. You have a better idea of what to do than we do. Give me a battle and I will win it for you, but this!”
“Oh, damn you!” Sara’s eyes moistened. “Give me some time.” She turned and went over to where Pat lay, and sat down on the other side of Mot, leaning down and cuddling him while she thought. After a while she looked up to see the older island woman watching her curiously from a few feet away.
“How many people in the village, and on the island?” Sara asked tonelessly in Belada.
Rereau hesitated, but she had a fair idea of what had happened from the body language. One thing she understood was young princesses, and it was clear the others had asked this girl for a decision. “There five villages on island, this biggest and maybe three hundred people. No men. Plenty young boys and some old men.”
“How far have you come, running from the slavers?”
“All my life we run. Three islands. Five years ago we here, and we make plan to kill Umayyad. Twice they come, each time we kill all. My grandmother, she tell stories of time before Umayyad, of brave sailors who travelled far in their canoes.”
“You fight for your people. Are you the leader?”
“No. Grandmother is leader. I princess, leader one day.”
“I am also a princess of my country, and one day I will lead it. It is one month by this ship over there.” She pointed to the North West and Rereau’s eyes widened. “Takes longer going back, we have to find the way.” Sara sighed and looked at Rereau. “My people want to fight you, because you attacked us. They want blood to pay for blood. But you are nothing. We cannot fight women and children. If I go home and say you attacked us and we helped you, my people will be angry. So instead we will take you over. You will become part of my country and accept me as your ruler. I will send you strong men to marry your women and make babies. We will build homes and farms. And when the Umayyads come we will destroy them.
“I will go back to my people and say we have a new land, part of us, that we had to fight for it and some of our people gave their lives to win it. They will cheer and honour them, and we will call streets and buildings after them.”
Sara looked at Rereau who was following her words intently. “You understand me? You accept?”
Rereau nodded slowly. “I understand you meaning. Not all words. It not my place to accept. Grandmother must say. But I think good. Strong men like him?” She pointed at Pat.
Sara smiled for the first time. “Yes, there are lots of lovely men like this one in our lands, who will be happy to come here.”
Rereau thrust her arms forward. “You untie me?”
Sara looked at her steadily. “Will you do us harm?”
“No. I help you.” Rereau returned her gaze unflinching.
“And the others?” Sara gestured to the lower deck and the other girls on the poop.
Rereau hesitated. She nodded at the ones close by. “These good. Down there is Hinatea.” She shrugged. “I cannot say for her. Maybe. I must talk with her first. Angry girl.”
Sara leaned forward, looked at the knots and simply drew her knife and slashed through the rope, sawing at it while Rereau held her hands steady. Then she helped her to her feet. Rereau was a good hand shorter than Sara, and they stood looking at each other. Rereau put her arms around her and hugged her, whispering in her ear as she did so. “I put my people in your hand. Take care of us. Please, always we scared the Umayyad come again.”
Sara felt wetness on her cheek and hugged hard back, feeling deep racking sobs come through the woman. In a moment she was crying too, the pain of a people being destroyed reaching deep into her soul.
After a moment, they braced themselves and stepped back, smiling at each other.
“Explain to your girls here, I will talk to my people, then they will release these girls. You must all stay up here, though, until we revive our crew, and get them over the effects of your magic.”
“Yes. I help make better. They need sex. Gets rid of magic. That and exercise.” Rereau went to her girls and Sara went over to Suzanne and Mactravis who were watching her uncertainly. “Call all the men over. I will talk to everyone at once. Anyone who is conscious and capable, have them come to the bottom of the poop stairs.”
Mactravis nodded and called instructions down to Russell who was on the lower deck. Suzanne squeezed Sara’s hand in support and went into the cabinway to recover Perryn and Little who were in the Captain’s cabin.
As they assembled, Sara untied her hair from the ponytail in which it hung down her back. Not as long as it used to be, it was beginning to show its true glorious colour, gleaming red at the roots and in places where the dye wore away
She shook it out into a mane, and stood tall and proud at the head of the stairs. The soldiers were all standing up and looking at her, plus some of the crew on wobbly legs. Most lay around, still copulating.
“I speak to you now, not as your shipmate, Midshipman and Topsailsman Sara, but as your Crown Princess, Asmara, Lady of High Reaches. I have been in disguise, but this current crisis requires my presence.” She paused and smiled down at them. The soldiers were grinning widely, only Perryn was looking shocked. A few of the crew looked up from their exercise and seemed to pay attention.
“I congratulate you. You have survived a battle, a strange but noble battle with a desperate enemy who fought with the bravery and trickery of those with their last hope in the balance. It will be known to history as the Battle of the Pahipi, the name of this isle, and it is the most important battle fought in the last four hundred years of our history. Not since King Bernard Starr accepted the sword and axe of Trehaun, and welcomed into the Kingdom Fearaigh, has Harrhein enlarged her borders as we have done today. Thanks to your skills and courage, your names will go down in history.” She could see the soldiers grinning, perhaps with some bemusement, but nevertheless thrilled.
“For these girls were the last army of this island. Their defeat here on the ship leaves them with nothing. Their princess has ceded the island to us, and we are the conquerors. The entire island belongs to us, and we will bring colonists from Harrhein to farm and develop it.” Now the soldiers looked uncertain.
“As is customary, every person on the ship will receive a parcel of land, which you may own or sell as you so wish.” That brought a cheer and restored the mood.
“Now we have won the war, we need to win the peace. And that will be more difficult. You need to understand some things. These girls are a remnant of a once powerful people who lived to the north. They were defeated in battle by a people known as Umayyads, who are slavers.” She hissed the word at them and they responded with growls. “These slavers are particularly cruel, raping and torturing those they don’t want as slaves, killing even the little children, burning the villages. The men of these women died to a man, to enable them to escape with the children and the elderly. They sailed as far away as they could to escape the Umayyads, and developed this effective technique to protect themselves. To date, every slaver ship that arrived here suffered the crew slain to the last man.” She paused, and they looked at her, entranced.
“It took Harrheinians to survive! It took Harrheinians to win!” Her tone changed now, her voice ringing with passion, stirring up the soldiers who started to bounce on their feet, itching to cheer. “And now Harrheinians will show how magnanimous we are, for we will assist our erstwhile foe, our brave enemy, who have become our friends and countrymen. Are you with me? Will you help these poor orphan people to recover their spirit and lives?”
“Yes!” They roared, “We’re with you Princess!” And to her surprise, many of the crew were shouting too, and Suzanne, who had been equally in the Princess’ thrall, realised her speech and words had cut through the magic in them. It was the passion in her words, she guessed, thinking ruefully that she knew what made royalty.
The crew were not instantly cured. The Princess’ words were so full of passion they ignited in the crew, who listened happily, gone along with the words, cheered the princess and now returned to the important business of more sex.
Princess Asmara smiled, and looked down at the soldiers. “Princess Rereau will speak with her ladies, after which you may untie them. They will help to dispel the magic still afflicting people. Please ensure none are untied until she indicates they are ready, as we don’t want them continuing the fight.” She turned to Rereau and switched to Belada. “Please speak to your ladies below. Can we release these ones?” She indicated the girls up top.
Rereau nodded. “I go.”
She went to the stairs, while Mactravis moved through the six girls on the poop deck, cutting their bonds.
Suzanne turned to Sara. “Well done, Princess. Happy with that, and you did brilliantly. Now, where are the Spakka. You didn’t report earlier.”
Sara’s face took on a strange look. “They are, well, recovering. I hadn’t realised, but it seems Spakka like each other.” Suzanne looked puzzled. “Their warrior creed, they buddy up and do everything with their buddy.” Suzanne’s eyes widened as comprehension dawned.
“You mean....”
“Yes, with each other. Something the island girls didn’t like. A good dozen of the dead are Spakka. I doubt they understood my speech, and they are still away with the fairies, well under the magic spell.”
Hinatea surfaced slowly through throbbing pain, taking a moment to place herself. She was on the ship, three kills only to her credit. Uggh! The deck was hard, and cold. She tried to move her hands and froze as she realised they were tied. She took a quick mental note of her state. Her head hurt, she was lying down with her wrists tied, but not her feet. She was on her back. Clearly she had been hit and tied up. Damn. She was a slave! Not for long, she vowed to herself, and opened her eyes a crack. She could hear somebody speaking in a stupid language that sounded like somebody gargling. It was a girl. Men were listening to her, and she opened her eyes fully as she realised nobody paid her any attention.
She tested her bonds. Tight. Would take her time to work them loose. She checked for the magic. Quiescent. There was no impossible urge to fuck anything that moved. Good, keep it down. She wouldn’t be able to escape if it woke in her again. Around her, all her comrades. All unconscious, no, Rerata was showing signs of waking. Stupid girl, making a noise and attracting attention. One of the men leant over and checked her bonds.
Surreptitiously, she swung her hair and felt from the weight her knife was still there. Good. She strained her arms, and felt the rope give slightly. She wriggled her wrists, feeling the rope move a little, and felt something touch her neck. Taking a chance, as the girl stopped and the men made a noise, she turned and looked behind her. Silmatea was looking at her. Good girl, no noise. Hinatea hunched her body and proffered her wrists to Silmatea, feeling her grip and worry them with her teeth.
Through her lashes she saw the girl stop talking, Rereau come down the stairs and walk over to where they lay.
She spoke, asking who was not awake. Reluctantly, Hinatea opened her eyes and nodded at her. All the girls were awake. Hinatea was pleased and proud so many had pretended unconsciousness. She listened to Rereau’s words and didn’t know what to think. Anger chased frustration around and around. She snapped, and spoke words in anger to the priestess, instantly regretting them.
