Authors: Loretta Sinclair
The PriZin of Zin (15 page)
mate·y
[mey-tee]
noun, plural
mate·ys.
Chiefly British Informal
.
comrade; chum; buddy.
Ian was met at the top of the landing by the remainder of the crew circled around the open hatch. In the middle, with him, were two fighting pirates. This was no wrestling match; this was a full-blown fist fight, one man relentlessly pummeling the other into the deck. Ian jumped back out of the way as a fist flung through the air, barely missing his own face, and slammed into an already swollen and bloodied face just inches from his own. He joined the circled ranks.
“What did he do?”
“Nothin’.”
“Nothing? Why is he being beaten up then? That doesn’t make any sense.” Ian’s rising alarm at the man’s condition prompted him to step forward without thinking. “Stop!” he commanded. All eyes turned his way. A deathly silence fell over the crew as everyone awaited Ian’s next move.
Ian recognized the man through his swollen and battered face. He was a member of the crew. He had been with Toothless that first night.
“’Er ye willin’ to take his beatin’ fer him?”
“Why are you beating him?”
“’Tis his test to join wit’ us.”
“What kind of test is that?” Ian could not hide the shock and surprise in his voice.
“Be he a coward. Ain’t no place fer no cowards herein. We’s needs to be knowin’ that he kin take what’s dished out fer him in a fight.” The man who was inflicting the beating drew closer to Ian.
“So’s, will ye be takin’ his place?”
“I will,” Ian said. “If you can explain to me why it takes more courage to stand there and allow yourself to get beaten, than it does to stand up for yourself and what is right.”
“’Er ye mockin’ me, boy?”
“Not at all.” Ian maneuvered his way off to one side, drawing the attention of the entire pirate crew away from the victim. He continued, “I just don’t understand the point of what you’re trying to accomplish. If a life of violence is the only reason this gang exists,” he winked at the beaten pirate, “then what is the attraction? Why are we all here?” As he continued walking across the deck, the surrounding mob of pirates followed. Ian turned to see the beaten man slip below deck alone. Turning back, he caught Peg Leg’s eye from the bridge.
“I mean, don’t you all have a higher purpose?”
“Huh?”
“A reason for being together? A brotherhood? You know, all for one, and one for all kind of thing?”
“Ye mean we all’s sticks together?”
“Right,” Ian said. He pointed at the pirate in the crowd who’d had that great revelation. “You protect each other.” They all nodded. He heard rumblings of assent among the crew. “You stick up for each other.”
“He be right,” someone shouted.
“Yuppin’s, we do.” Nods and mumblings surrounded him.
“Like I just did.”
The crew fell silent again.
“If I am to be part of this crew, and we protect our own, and we stick together like you’ve indicated, then no one beats one of my crew members without going through me first.” Ian’s heart was racing. He had visions of being hurled to the deck and savagely beaten as some ridiculous orientation into this would-be gang of pirates. He held his breath, awaiting their next move. The silence was deafening.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
“Weel done thar’, son!” Peg Leg looked down at the crowd of confused pirates below. “Ye passed the test although, most jus’ takes the beatin’ instead. Ye gets the point jus’ the same.”
Step.
Thump.
Step.
Thump.
“All’s in favor of young Ian here bein’ part of the crew, votes aye.” Captain Peg Leg quickly raised his hand with the first resounding, “Aye!”
The rest of the crew followed.
“Aye.”
“Aye.”
“Aye, Aye.”
“Aye, lad.”
“All opposed, nay.”
The deck remained silent.
“The Wayfarer welcomes ye, laddie. She be in yer blood from this day on. There’s no escapin’ the hold she gits on yer soul.”
Step.
Thump.
Step.
Thump.
“And all a’fore we sup, too. Weel done. Weel done, lad.”
Ian watched Peg Leg thump his way below deck. One by one, the crew followed, until he was alone on the deck.
Ian took a deep breath, his head still pounding. Raising a hand, he felt his swollen lips and tender nose. He looked down at his filthy, grease-covered clothing, and the scratches on his arms and legs. He had visible bruising on his forearms, and his knees ached. Ian looked up toward the black and white pirate flag billowing in the wind over his head. “Yes!” he screamed, leaping into the air. Fists flying and legs dancing, Ian did a victory lap around the deck, before following his Captain and crewmates below deck for his first pirate victory supper.
Congratulations lasted late into the evening hours. Ian received so many welcoming slaps on the back his shoulders ached. His knees and arms still hurt from the day’s events. Still, he reveled in the thought of it all.
“I’m a pirate,” he repeated to his new friends.
“Aye, ye near be,” they retorted.
Now he found himself back up on the deck, in the dark of the night, surrounded by all of his shipmates for the final celebration of the day. He had no idea what would transpire, but it didn’t matter. Whatever it was would cement his bond into his new and wonderful life; a life of adventure and surprise. It was what he had waited his entire life for, and now the time was here. He belonged. He finally belonged somewhere.
Ian was as content as he thought he’d ever been. Just the atmosphere alone was enough to make his heart skip a beat. The night sky shone brightly with the moon above. The seas were calm and the surf quiet. He could hear the bubbles slipping to the surface from under the gently rocking hull.
Snap.
Pop.
Help.
“Welcome’s aboard, matey!” Ian was spun around to face the man he’d helped earlier in the day. “I’s be Ruben.”
“Nice to meet you. Your face looks better.”
“Aye, jus’ a little funnin’ was all, it was.”
“That didn’t look like much fun to me.”
“Aye, weel. I’s likes to see how many times I’s can turn to the other cheek and stills be standin’. Ye ken?”
Ian started to nod, then shook it instead. “No. I guess I don’t.”
Ruben laughed at that. “Aye. It matters naught to ye. Y’re kin now, an’ that’s all matters.”
Peg Leg stomped his stump on the dimly lit deck. All noise stopped and attention turned his way.
“Young Ian, step forwards, man. Time fer yer oath-takin’.”
“On this here boat, friends is thicker ‘n blood.” Peg Leg reached out his hand to Ian. “When ye swears in, yer in for the lot.” Ian was drawn in close to the Captain. Through the lantern’s dim glow he could see the whites of his new Captain’s eyes. The glimmer of a new life of pillage and plunder shot bolts of excitement up his spine. Ian gladly grasped his mentor’s hand and smiled. The Captain smiled back, eyes glimmering, jet-black hair waving. Funny, but there doesn’t seem to be any breeze, Ian thought. Yet Peg Leg’s hair and beard were moving as though the ship were at full sail. No matter. He was just happy to be here. The gleam in Peg Leg’s eye shone so brightly it reflected dozens of times in the tips of his beard. The ends seemed to twinkle in the moonlight. His whole face was alight with pure delight. Ian smiled.
This was gonna be good.
Peg Leg grabbed his wrist with a firm hand and held it straight up in the air. He firmly laid Ian's wrist up against Ian’s. On the railing were several lengths of rope, one a fine silvery thread-like piece glowing in the moonlight as brightly as Peg Leg’s eyes. His Captain’s hand reached right over the top and grabbed an ordinary piece of rope lying next to it. Lashing their arms together, wrist to wrist, Peg Leg instructed “repeat whats I says. If’n ye means it, ye be ones of us forever.”
Ian nodded.
“The bonds of ye brothers runs deep as the oceans.”
“The bonds of your brothers runs deep as the oceans,” Ian recited.
“Their bond fer ye be the same.”
“Their bond for me is the same.”
Peg Leg held the end of the rope in his free hand. “We ties our souls to one another, and to this ship. We swears our oath to the Cap’n, save none.”
Ian heard the other pirates repeating the oath with him. Ruben stepped up and stood next to him.
“We lives together. We fights fer our own. We dies as one for ‘er brothers and ‘er Cap’n. Wayfarin’ souls be we.”
Ian smiled.
“No friend lef’ behin’.”
“No friend left behind.” Ian looked across the deck at his new crewmates, swearing their loyalty to him.
“None dies alones.”
“No one dies alone.”
“Be’s we ‘gether, or be’s we ‘part;”
“Be us together, or be us apart.”
“No’ne can tear ye from ‘er brother’s heart.”
The entire crew repeated the last line.
Then Ian said alone, “none can tear us from our brother’s heart.”
Cheers went up and the dancing began. The ship rocked slightly as the men jumped, whooped, and hollered, spiriting themselves around the deck. Several members of the crew climbed part way up the mainsails and swung out from the booms. “Wooo! Hooo!” they screamed at the tops of their lungs. “Gots us ‘nother brother, does we!”
The ship tilted even further as they swung like monkeys from boom to boom, Ruben leading the way.
Pop.
Plop.
“Ian.”
“He be’s the bestest crow on the seas, Ruben is.” Peg Leg unwound the rope that had bound them together for the oath of loyalty.
“Crow, sir?”
“Now, there. Ain’t bein’ no ‘sir’ here, boy. On this here ship we’s all be equals. I be yer voted-in Cap’n. We’s bein’ in a democer’cy, we is.”
“Ok, Captain. But what does it mean to be a crow?”
