Read Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates Online

Authors: Elizabeth Gannon

Nobody Likes Fairytale Pirates (19 page)

“Why, I once helped
at least
three people and a dog immigrate to their new homes.”  He declared proudly.

Ransom heaved an irritated sigh.

He frowned over at her.  “What?”

She shook her head in disgust. 
“Always with the dog.”

He pointed at her.  “Hey, I went
out of my way for those people.”

“Their ‘new land’ was the middle of
the ocean and your travel plans involved pushing them over the side of the ship
into it.”

“And that’s just what I told Mother
Ester!”  He protested playfully.  “I can’t help it if I prefer to be concise in
my storytelling.”

“Probably a good idea to stay away
from long stories.”  Ransom agreed, sounding regretful.  “There’s no telling
how long the old lady has left.”

The old woman in question didn’t
looked charmed by their byplay.  “My asshole son-in-law says you’re the man for
this job.”  She told him flatly.  “I don’t think he’s ever been right in his
life.  You really as good as he claims?”

“Well, if I tell you ‘yes,’ you’ll
think I’m lying,” Uriah smiled, “and if I tell you ‘no,’ I’ll
know
I am.”

“How much did that little waste of
skin promise you?”

“Fiftee…”

“Thirty.”  Ransom interrupted. 
“Plus 10% of the haul.”

Uriah nodded, trying to look
convincing.  He pointed at his partner with his thumb.  “What she said.”

“That’s outrageous!”  Ester shook
her head vehemently.  “There’s no way you’re getting a copper more than twenty-five!”

Uriah let out a long breath,
pretending to think the matter over.  He turned to look at his partner. 
“Rance?”

She shrugged helplessly, as if
defeated.  “What choice do we have?”

Uriah nodded, acting reluctant to
agree to the rather large increase to their already exorbitant pay.  “Very
well.  Twenty-five, plus 10% of the gross.”

Ester considered that for a moment,
then nodded.  “Fine.”  She pointed towards her room.  “But I have a lot of bags
I need on this trip.  One is already loaded, but the others still need to be
moved.”

“What a coincidence!”  He spread
his arms wide, then turned to look at Ryle.  “I’ve got a hostage, just
dying
to assist you with them!”

“I don’t want to help this lady!” 
Ryle cried.  “She’s mean!”

“Do you want to live here?”  Uriah
asked him calmly.  “Because I don’t recall ever promising to take you with me
when we go.”

The Swab considered that, then
trudged off to help the old woman. 

Uriah casually sat on the low back
of his partner’s padded chair.  “Why do we always find ourselves saddled with
the socially misaligned?”

“Wondering that too.”

“I blame you.”  He tapped her on
the shoulder.  “’Like attracts like,’ as my mother used to say.”

“I’m really starting to dislike
your mother.”

He nodded.  “Because you’re
socially misaligned.”

“I don’t have to take that, lady!” 
Ryle yelled from the other room, sounding insulted.  “I’m not a part of this
little enterprise, I’m just the guy who’s being held against my will in the
middle of it!”  He burst through the doors, dragging the woman’s expensive
looking luggage by one leather strap and paying no attention to the fact that
he was scuffing both the intricately tiled floor and the delicate leather in
the process.  “This whole thing is complete
bullshit,
that’s what this
is!”

Uriah looked down at his partner. 
“Children say the cutest things, don’t they?”

She snorted in laughter.

“You gonna help me with this or
what?”  Ryle gestured to the luggage.  “I think she’s crammed a few of her dead
husbands in here or something, just so they can’t escape her, even in death.”

Uriah took on a mocking
“thoughtful” expression.  “Jeez, you know, that really seems like something my
prisoner should be doing.”

“I’m in a hurry, pirate!”  Ester
snapped.  “That lamp isn’t going to find itself!”

That
got Uriah’s attention.

“Lamp?”  He asked innocently. 
“What lamp are we talking about?”

“The lamp that…”  Ester began.

She was cut off as the leather
strap on the suitcase snapped, dropping the heavy bag onto Ryle’s foot.  He
swore loudly, then kicked the luggage in frustration, scuffing the leather
further.

Ester forgot the information she’d
been about to reveal and instead launched into an angry and profane tirade at
Ryle for five minutes straight.

Uriah cleared his throat, trying to
get the woman back on topic.  “Yes, yes.  I too hope the lad leaves this life
never knowing love.  But about
the lamp
…”

Ester talked right over him,
continuing to scream at the Swab.

The boy ignored Uriah, and the old
woman’s abuse, but finally had all he could take.  “Oh, shut up, lady.”  He
rolled his eyes, unimpressed by her threats.  “You’re turning my abduction by
pirates into a real nightmare, you know that?”

“The cost of repairing that bag is
coming out of your share of the treasure!”  She warned.  “I won’t be out of
pocket because you’re inept!”

“Be my guest.”  Ryle started
dragging the bag towards the door again, paying no attention to the fact that
the second handle was also in danger of tearing.  He deliberately pushed an
expensive-looking vase off the table with his free hand as he walked by. 
“Charge Uriah for that too.”

Ester glared at Uriah in fury. 
“Why are you allowing him to do that to my bag!?!”  She cried, her voice so
shrill and annoying that it made his teeth clench.  “I’ve been perfectly nice
to you degenerates, haven’t even pointed out that your people are more animal
than man, or the fact that the blind girl’s mutilated face makes me want to
vomit, and what’s the thanks I get?  For being kind to the incompetent and taking
pity on the crippled?  My belongings are mistreated and my home is
disrespected!”

“I’m afraid not even kidnapping can
help his upbringing, Mother Ester.  There’s only so much that a captor can do
before he has to admit that some hostages are incapable of being a part of civilized
society, even unwillingly.”  He shrugged, as if powerless to do anything.  “Ah,
the impetuousness of captive youth.”

“Get out there and make sure he
doesn’t do anything to harm that bag!”  The old woman ordered, pointing to the
door.  “That leather is worth twice what you are!  My dear Marcus bought that for
me before he died!  And he was a better man than you!”

Uriah frowned.  “But not quite
worth as much as your luggage?  Because the bags are worth
two
of me,
while he’s apparently only…”

“He was a good man!”  She spat out,
interrupting him.  “And he never would have allowed me to be mistreated like
this by some Grizzle pirate and his team of good-for-nothings!”  She took on a
warning tone and pointed to the door again.  “
One more goddamn scuff and
I’ll patch the leather with the skin off your ass!

He glanced back at his partner,
looking for a ruling.  “Rance?”

Ransom made a dismissive face. 
“Fuck that noise.”

He waved off her concern.  “No need
for the Red, Dove.  We can still manage with Black.”

“Red.”  Ransom said unemotionally,
as if that settled the matter.

“We have to make do with Black for
the…”

“Red.”  She repeated immediately,
cutting him off.

“You know, I don’t have to take any
shit from you
either,
missy!”  Ester screamed.  “I don’t know what an
Adithian girl is doing with
certain kinds of people
…”

“I think she means me.”  Uriah interrupted
in a conspiratorial stage whisper, holding up his hand to his mouth.

“…but I can tell you that their
kind is no good!”  She swatted at Uriah with her hand.  “They’re beasts of
burden!”

“Because I’m a man or because I’m
from the Grizzwood?”  He asked, genuinely interested.  “I’m just trying to
determine if sexism or racism is the dominant color in the fascinating tapestry
which is Mother Ester.”

Ester ignored him.  “They’re all
like Din!  They’re takers!  They’ll bleed you dry and leave you with nothing!” 

“Still not sure.”  Ransom told him
conversationally, ignoring the woman.  “I’m leaning towards ‘all men in
general.’”

Ester shook her head, continuing
her tirade.  “You can’t ever trust them!”

“Again… that could be either…”  He
thought aloud, still debating the issue with his partner.

She pointed at Ransom.  “And
that’s
why you’ll never amount to anything in this world.  Because you’re hanging around
with the wrong sorts of people!”

“See, ‘wrong sorts of people’ means
‘because he’s from the Grizzwood’ to me.”  Uriah argued calmly.  “Am I just
being hypersensitive about that?”

“Well, to be fair, you
are
the ‘wrong sort.’”  Ransom’s voice took on a serious tone, like she was
breaking hard news to him.  She shrugged.  “Sorry ‘Rai, but you know it’s
true.”

“I’m an excellent sort!”  He
defended passionately.

“Everyone from the Grizzwood is a
demented criminal!”  Ester screamed.

He thought about it for a moment,
then nodded, admitting the point.  “Granted, but…”

“They’re animals!”

“I prefer to think of us as ‘living
in tune with nature.’”  He held up a finger to correct her.  “It just sounds
better.”

“You’re all alike!”  Ester pointed
towards the door again.  “And didn’t I tell you to go help that other little
shitheel with my bag!  Huh!?!  Should I speak slower, is that it!?!  Am I on
the ‘pay no fucking mind’ list because I’m not one of your fellow useless
savages?  I know you people always plot against us!  You’re jealous because we
have the world’s most perfect brilliant society, while you people just sit
around all day, throwing handfuls of shit at each other!”  She gestured towards
the door again.  “NOW, you useless dirty Grizzle!” 

He looked over at his partner.  “I
miss my grandma.”  He said regretfully, as if the woman reminded him of her.

Ransom burst out in laughter.

He chuckled too, then grabbed some
fruit from the table and absently tossed it to his partner without breaking
stride.  “Peach.”

Ransom caught it in the air with
one hand, almost like they’d planned it.  He wasn’t entirely certain how she
was able to do that, but he suspected it just had to do with the fact that they
spent a lot of time together.

“I have to go pack some bags for the
bag.”  He told her simply, still laughing.

“You leave me alone with her and I
won’t be held responsible for what happens.”  Ransom warned ominously, taking a
bite of her fruit.  “I’m serious.”

“You know what your problem is,
Dove?”  He winked at her, even though she couldn’t see it.  “You’re incapable
of supporting the team.”

She chuckled and took another bite
of peach.  “Yeah.”  She tossed the peach to him, over her shoulder.  “Go team.”

He caught it in one hand.  “Go team.” 
He took a bite of the snack.  “Play nice.”

“Tell the ‘little shitheel’ I said
‘hey.’”  She teased.

“Will do.”  He finished off the
peach and absently tossed the pit aside, not caring that it landed somewhere in
the old woman’s house.

He made his way out into the
courtyard, where Ryle was stalking back through the exterior doors. 

The Swab pointed towards the house. 

Please
tell me you killed her.  Give me good news here.”

He shook his head.  “I’m just out
here to make sure you don’t scuff the bag.”  He arched an eyebrow.  “You didn’t
scuff it, did you?”

“Shit no, I threw it into the
fucking river.”  Ryle told him bluntly, gesturing over his shoulder to the
river’s edge on the opposite side of the street.  “And if she says one more
goddamn word to me, she’s next.”

Uriah shrugged disinterestedly. 
“Whatever.”

“All the people you’ve killed and
you can’t do us all a favor here?”  Ryle sounded amazed.  “What’s up with that,
man?”

“Sadly, my violent tendencies tend
to lose out to my natural greed in cases like this.”  He paused.  “Sorry.”

Ryle sat on the front stairs, and
turned to stare in at the old woman as she was talking to Ransom about
something inside.  “She’s a nightmare.”

“She’s paying me a lot of money.” 
Uriah sat down beside him.  “Which means I have no intention of killing her…
until after I’m paid.”

“Noble.”

“A man has to have a code he lives
by.”  Uriah deadpanned.

They sat in silence and watched the
two women discussing something.

Ryle made a small amazed sound.  “Damn.” 
He pointed at the house.  “You know, she is a really beautiful woman.” 

“A little old for you, Swab.”

“Not her, you asshole.”  Ryle made
a face.  “Ransom.  She tries to hide it with the hood and all, but she’s like…
stunning, actually.”  He pursed his lips in thought.  “Personally, I like the
scars.  Without them, the pretty would be overpowering.  Almost fake or
something.  The scars give her face some character though, and tell me that not
only
is
she real, but that she’s been in the shit.  But she survived it
because she’s strong.  She’s a fighter.”  He nodded in appreciation of the
idea.  “I like that.  A lot.  She kinda reminds me of Anna, my wife, sometimes. 
But she passed away.”  He swallowed, thinking aloud.  “There’s nothing worse in
this world than losing someone like that.”

“Did she love you?”  Uriah asked
after a moment.

“Huh?”

“Did the woman you loved, love you
in return?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s not the worst thing in
this world.”  Uriah informed him.  “The worst feeling in this world is when she
doesn’t.  If you tried to tell her how you felt and she had been horrified. 
Because you weren’t good enough… not when it mattered… and the love of your
life knew it.  And you lived with that feeling…  Every.  Goddamned.  Day. 
That
would be the worst thing in the world.”

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