Chapter 3

Much had changed topside in the short time it took to retrieve their belongings. The bodies, both merchant crew and privateer, had been removed, thrown over the side Dent assumed. Here and there crew from the captured ship were kneeling, scrubbing blood and gore off the deck.

So, Dent thought, they didn't kill every man onboard. It seemed the privateers weren't that stupid. Now at least there would be a few able hands to bring the ship to port. Of the women there was no sign, something that relieved Dent while making him feel a little cowardly for that relief, not that there was a damned thing he could do about it anyway.

"Warrior!" Dent heard from aft and above. Looking up at the piloting platform he saw the rat-faced First mate looking at him. There was little doubt where the call had come from. Striding the length of the deck he stopped just below the platform and bowed.

"Yes?" he said after raising his head up. "What may I do for you?"

Rat-face stared at him for a moment or two and in a voice with very little outward emotion said, "I am Captain of this prize and you will address me as such."

"Yes, Captain. What can I do for you?" Dent repeated.

"Captain Vel orders ye to board the Death Grip immediately. Yer to report to the Bo'sun for berthing. After evening meal he will send for ye. Do ye understand?"

"Perfectly, Captain. By your leave I go to do Captain Vel's bidding at once." Giving another short bow to Rat-face he turned and walked to the side where the two ships were still tied together.

The sails on the ships had been reefed and stowed, becalming both vessels. Three large planks had been laid between the two ships. Two were being used for traffic to the Death Grip the other for return travel. Most of the men moving to the privateer were burdened with loot or stores of some kind whereas the men returning were generally empty-handed. Waving for Nesho and Sosho to follow him Dent made his way to the closest gangplank. Just as he was about to step up and onto the board he was pushed aside and only just regained his balance before almost tumbling into the water separating the ships.

"Watch out, ye little shit!" Looking up Dent faced a man almost as large as Vel but without the beard and with considerable less muscle. In fact his fat made him look more like a walrus than the bear his captain resembled.

"Ahah, I must not have seen you up there already, my apologies," Dent smiled wanly as he picked himself up and brushed imaginary dust off his undertunic.

"Listen to the little faggot," fatso said laughing to a couple of sailor standing behind him. "Sure talks purdy, don't he?" Turning back to Dent his voice turned to a growl, "Stay out of my way, sweet lips! When ya see a real man coming yer way ya stand aside." Looking over at Sosho and Nesho his growl was replaced by a leer.

"So these are the bitches they been talking about. Bit skinny for me liking but the tits look like they may have some cushion. Don't worry, honey. It won't be long afore this pissant is out of the way and a real man will mount ye."

"Know any 'real men' then?" Dent said dryly. "I certainly don't see any around here."

"Why you little shit, I'll break ya in two..." Fatso reached his hand out to grab Dent but the breastplate defeated his first try. Casually Dent lifted his left arm allowing the big man to grab it and pull him in.

Dent looked at the hand holding his arm and then up into the leering face.

"I suggest you release my arm immediately," Dent said softly, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"Or you'll do what, you little prick?"

"First, I'll cut off your balls," emphasizing his statement with a small thrust of the dirk that suddenly appeared in his right hand. "Or if you, as I suspect, have no balls then I'll jamb this up your cunt and into your fat belly."

Aware of his exposed position Fatso dropped Dent's arm and took a step back. "Ya can't draw steel on crew!" he bellowed. "Ye all saw him! H' drew steel on me!"

"Garth, leave that one alone," said one the other sailors standing behind him. "He's the one that killed nine of ours all by himself. He's a warrior! Just leave it be."

"I'll have you before the mast for this, I will!" Face as red as a beet, Garth turned and stumbled away, the faces of other sailors in the area following as he went.

Turning to the remaining two sailors Dent gave a short bow and extended his arm indicating they should go before him.

The one giving Garth the warning grinned and waved him off. "Nay," he said, "ye were here first. Besides it were worth it to see Garth taken down a peg or two. But just a little friendly advice: Garth be one who seems to hold hard to his grudges and he's not above a little midwatch payback, if ya know what I mean."

"I do and thank you for the warning. While I won't go out of my way to create enemies I have no intention of allowing myself to be indisposed by others."

"Ye are a fancy talker at that," the sailor grunted. "Comes from too much book learning if ya ask me, but can't say but that yer polite enough. Names Seth, senior pilot for the Death Grip. Heard ye be looking for the Bo'sun, well get across and I'll take ye to him." Waving his hand in a shooing motion he waited until Dent and the women were across before ambling across himself.

Dent jumped to the deck of his new ship, alertly scanning the area before turning around to help Nesho and Sosho down to the wooden deck. His brief glance told him volumes about his new home and the people he was going to be living with. The ship was incredibly clean. Even though the battle had taken place on the little merchant vessel he had expected remnants of the preparations to still be evident, but there were none. Everything was in place and tidy as if it were awaiting inspection. Men streamed across the gangplanks bringing back loot or returning for another trip. It was evident this was no ordinary pirate ship; this was a military vessel in all but uniform and flag, and a well-disciplined one at that.

Dent looked back at the two women. Nesho was looking around with frank curiosity while Sosho stood still, eyes seeing nothing but the deck in front of her feet. Nesho caught Dent looking at her and her lips curled up in a very slight, very tentative smile. Raising his eyebrows he tried to impart a look of confidence, a confidence he didn't feel in the least.

Jumping lightly to the deck Seth waved toward the stern of the ship. "Bo'sun Meltath should be around the bridge be my guess. With the First taking the prize he be acting First and should be setting watch while the Captain's occupied. Come with me and we see if we be finding him."

Without waiting to see if they followed the rangy pilot started walking quickly aft. Nesho started after him but Sosho stood rooted as if she hadn't heard anything that had been said. Dent came up to her and putting his arm around her gently pulled her with him following the receding sailor. At his gentle tug her face came up, eyes wide, and the terror evident.

"It's all right, sweet cake," he whispered using the pet name her mother used when she was a young girl. "We need to go find where we'll be staying. Just follow me; everything will be fine."

"Oh, Dent," she said, her voice quivering slightly, "I am so scared. What will they do to us? Where will we go?"

"You are doing wonderfully!" Then leaning over he whispered, "I'm scared too. We just can't let them see our fear; be brave. As to where we go, we'll see when we find this Bo'sun." Squeezing her to him he guided her down the deck after the pilot and his aunt.

The piloting area of the Death Grip wasn't a platform like the Pinya's but instead was positioned above the main deck on top of what looked like a small house set at the stern of the ship. A set of real steps instead of a ladder led up to the top of the little house. Pilot Seth and Nesho were standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting for the other two to catch up.

"Be best if yer women stay here til the Bo'sun be ready to see ye." Dent nodded and gently pushed Sosho over to a space on the deck he estimated would be out of the way of general traffic. Nesho joined her as they both sat down.

"Stay here, you two. I'll be back pick you up in a bit." Dent wanted it to sound like a command if any were listening but not so harsh as to hurt his already overly distraught cousin. The pilot started up the steps and Dent followed. Going up the stairs he turned back to look and saw Nesho leaning over talking softly to Sosho holding Sosho's trembling hands in hers.

Cresting the top of the stairs Dent immediately saw the layout of the Death Grip's piloting area was very familiar. A large wheel in the center, tied off now with nobody manning the station, and a post holding what should be the ship's compass positioned close by. Seth was standing next to a sailor who must be the Bo'sun over by the railing where the activities on both ships could be observed. Dent stopped at the head of the stairs waiting for some indication that it was all right to approach.

While he waited he studied the Bo'sun trying to get a feel for what type of man he would be dealing with. Where the Captain was tall, the Bo'sun was short, maybe a good six or seven inches shorter than Dent himself. But even as short as he was the Bo'sun probably outweighed him by a good twenty, maybe thirty pounds, very little of it fat. Round and solid, he seemed as much a part of the ship as the rail he leaned against. Looking around and seeing Dent the pilot waved him over to join them. Walking slowly toward them he stopped a pace or two away and bowed as subordinate to senior.

"Bo'sun Meltath, I am Warrior Dent. Captain Vel ordered me to report to you for billeting and instruction. I am at your command."

"Yeah I see ye. Now what am I to do with ye the question is," the Bo'sun grunted. "I won't be lying to ye: I can't say as I'm happy ye're with us. I knew every man that died in this boarding and counted some of them as friend. I'd just a soon run you through and heave ye over the side. But then I'm not the Captain and if he signed ye up then we'll see what good use ye can be made of. What ye know of sailing, youngster?"

"I am sorry to admit, very little," Dent replied. "I was trained to fight on land and only know what I have seen over the past few weeks. As for what I can do, the Captain mentioned instruction, which I can do. Weapons maintenance and repair, and of course I can fight. Additionally I have a strong back and learn fairly quickly. Whatever you assign me, I shall endeavor to learn as best I can."

"Well Seth, he do talk pretty as ye say." Meltath studied the young man in front of him seeming to come to a conclusion.

"Very well, youngster. We'll see if ye can teach the men how to fight a wee bit better. I hear ya kilt seven by yerself and if ye can do that, maybe ye know something we be needing. But now I be thinking I need to get ye a berth. I understand ya be carrying some baggage with ye."

"I have some small amount of personal items and two slaves. I also have two trunks and heavy armor in the hold."

"What's in the prize's hold ye get when we hit port. As for your slaves, well crew don't usually keep personnel slaves on board, but they can either bunk with the rest of the slaves in their quarters or squeeze in yer bunk with ye. Yer decision; just don't bother me or anyone else." Turning slightly, still keeping his eyes on Dent, he bellowed in a voice surprisingly loud and clear, "Festou! Festou! Where are ye, ye worthless lump? Get yer ass up here. I have a task for ye!"

As if a wizard waved his hand creating it out of thin air a head popped up over the edge of the deck at the steps followed by the body of a young boy. Red hair bouncing in an unruly mop, the boy reminded Dent more of a monkey he had once seen in a carnival sideshow than a human being. He couldn't have been more than eight or nine seasons old. Moving quickly with the boundless energy of extreme youth, the boy bounced -- it was the only way to describe his movement -- over to the Bo'sun rendering a fingertip touch of his brow in mock salute.

"'ere Bo'sun sir!" Even at rest the boy seemed to vibrate, giving the impression he was going to shoot off in a random direction at any moment.

"Festou, where have ye been hiding? Well never ye mind, I want ya to take this young warrior here -- never did catch yer name -- up to forward crew quarters and get h'm settled in. Then show h'm the galley, head and a short tour of the ship. The Captain will be calling for h'm after evening meal so until then we won't know his station."

"Dent, honorable sir; my name is Dent," he said when the Bo'sun turned back towards him.

"I ain't no honorable sir, I be this ships Bo'sun, ye remember that. Aye, well Warrior Dent, this here is Festou, ship's boy. He be taking ye to yer quarters and show ye around a bit. His worthless hide is yers for awhile, until ya get used to us here. One word of warning, warrior." His eyes suddenly became very cold and hard. "I don't allow no trouble in the crew. This be a good tight ship and I aim to keep it that way, ye understand?"

"Perfectly hor... Bo'sun sir," remembering to change his honorific just in time. "I am under contract now and shall respond to my comrades in arms as required under the Code." Pausing just a second he continued, "The fact is, Bo'sun, I've had enough trouble today as it is and have no desire for more."

"Aye, that I believe. Very well. Festou, be off with ye now. Dismissed." Bowing first to the Bo'sun and then to the pilot Dent turned and followed the bouncing ball of energy down the stairs to the main deck and over to the waiting women.

They were sitting on the deck where he had left them but were not alone. Standing around them were five sailors leering and making obscene solicitations. "Hey, sweet thing, how about ye and yer sister come by me rack tonight. I'll sigh ya out [BM1]and show you what a real man can do for ya before some needle-dick noble buys ya off the block."

"Lets have a look at the merchandise honey. Maybe ya can earn a little extra if ye are especially good."

Nesho kept her face expressionless as she worked the knots out of a piece of cloth that could have once been a blouse. Sosho was trying to emulate her mother but there were tears visible running down her cheek. Both were doing their best to ignore their 'suitors' and pretend they didn't exist.

Dent came to a halt behind the men and with his hands clasped behind his back took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Nesho! Sosho! It's time to go. This young gentleman is to show us to our berth. Pick up our gear and let's move. Gentlemen, if you will kindly excuse us."

The men started laughing as they turned but seemed to choke when they saw the armored, and armed, warrior standing behind them. Still blood spattered from the morning's battle, the faint smile noticeable on the apparition's face did nothing to quell their immediate unease.