The Ninja and the Pirate King

     Midway through their second week aboard the Biyako, Akihiko wakes and peers out the porthole to find the ship already navigating through the ice-capped mountain range that slices Neopia into east and west. Laurence is not with him in their cabin, though Akihiko has come to expect as much; the foppish Cybunny is a surprisingly early riser. Dressing quickly, Akihiko hurries to the deck to confirm their progress with Captain Bohai.

     He doesn’t find the Ogrin, but Laurence is on the foredeck, leaning over the starboard gunwale. Akihiko approaches him.

     “What are you looking at?” he asks, noting the pirate’s intense focus on the mountains.

     “I’m looking for Shenkuu, of course,” Laurence says, without lifting his gaze. “I’ve heard a good many things about it, yet I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting myself.”

     Akihiko frowns. “Is that the truth?”

     Laurence finally turns to face him, a look of bewilderment upon his face. “You really don’t trust anyone at all, do you?”

     “Not pirates, no.”

     “Well, I’m telling the truth. When I left Kingsgrange, I kept my activities restricted to the seas around Krawk Island. I’ve never even been to Neopia Central, let alone halfway across the world!”

     Akihiko supposes he has no reason to lie about something like that. “Then what could Master possibly want with a foolish pirate like this,” he muses aloud.

     “I haven’t a clue. Did your master tell you anything?”

     Akihiko wonders if Laurence is fishing for something and if he ought to answer or not. “I was told only to bring you alive,” he settles on after a moment. “I do not question Master’s orders.”

     “You have quite a lot of faith in him, don’t you?” Laurence asks, catching Akihiko off-guard.

     “Master saved my life,” he says at once. “I’d gladly give mine to him.”

     Laurence tilts his head. “Oh? Does my dear little Aki have a story to tell, hm?”

     Akihiko bristles. “I told you not to call me that. And no—not a story worth telling, at least.”

     “Oh, come now! You’ve heard a good many of my stories already! Indulge me, won’t you?”

     His eyes and tone are so earnest that Akihiko finds himself softening a little. Averting his eyes, he mutters, “It really isn’t much of a story, unlike your fantastical tales. I was a lowly thief attempting to purloin some of my master’s treasures, and he caught me. But rather than hand me over to the authorities as he had every right to do, he took me into his home and kept me as his attendant. I owe him a great debt, and so I serve him willingly and proudly.”

     Laurence takes a few moments to absorb this new information before saying, a little smugly, “A thief, eh? You and I are not so different.”

     “Unlike you, I possess a sense of honour and duty.”

     “Oh?” Laurence grins, then reaches out and ruffles Akihiko’s hair, to his mortification. “There is indeed honor among thieves, my friend. In fact, I would argue that—hm?”

     He cuts himself off, his attention suddenly captured by something in the distance. Akihiko steps out of arm’s reach of him before following his gaze.

     There’s another ship in the distance, its course running tangential to the Biyako’s, but it’s rapidly closing the gap between them. Even from this far out, Akihiko can tell that the ship is massive, easily dwarfing the tiny merchant vessel. If the two were to collide, the Biyako wouldn’t stand a chance.

     But it isn’t the potential for imminent collision that alarms him the most.

     “I’m more of a sea captain than a sky captain,” Laurence says slowly, “but are sky-ships known for flying the Jolly Roger in peaceable circumstances?”

     “No,” Akihiko says, his throat tight.

     The ship continues its approach at an alarming rate of speed, showing no indication of changing course. And just as Laurence surmised, the billowing black flag bearing the skull and crossbones symbol that it flies is unmistakable. Akihiko wonders how such an enormous vessel was able to approach them so quickly while avoiding detection. It must have been hidden within the fog, he realizes. The Biyako herself is now shrouded in it; they must have sailed right into a patch of it without him even noticing.

     “Keep an eye on it,” Akihiko orders. “I’m going to go get the captain!”

     Laurence salutes him in acknowledgement, and Akihiko dashes across the foredeck to the helm, finding Captain Bohai straining to see through the fog.

     “Where did this all come from now?” the Ogrin grunts, squinting through his spyglass.

     “Captain!” Akihiko cries. “Pirates off the starboard side! They’re heading straight toward us!”

     “Pirates?” Bohai rushes to the starboard bow and peers again through his spyglass. “Are you certain? I can’t see a thing in all this fog!”

     “Yes, Captain! They fly the Jolly Roger! And from their angle of approach, I suspect they intend to board us!”

     Bohai collapses his spyglass. “Blast, useless thing! These cretins must have used the fog to set upon us! We must take defensive measures with all haste”

     Akihiko hesitates. “There’s no time, Captain. They’re nearly upon us.”

     Bohai curses under his breath. He turns to the helmsman. “Keep us steady.” To the skipper, he adds, “Sound the alarm. Tell the men to prepare for engagement.”

     “What would you have me do, Captain?” Akihiko asks as the skipper sprints off to follow his orders.

     “Lead me where the ship advances,” Bohai says, drawing the long, curved blade at his hip from its scabbard.

     Akihiko points across the deck where the fog has already begun to curl and thicken. “The pirate—our pirate, that is—should have eyes on it.”

     Bohai nods once. “Then get your weapons. If we’re to be boarded soon, I suspect we’ll need the extra martial support.”

     Akihiko doesn’t need to be told twice. He races below deck to his cabin, strapping on his belt with his shuriken and short sword. Then he throws on his cloak and returns to the main deck, only to be met with the tip of a blade. In an instant, his shuriken are spread between his fingers, but he stays his hand in time to realize that it’s Laurence he nearly collided with. The Cybunny appears just as alarmed but quickly lowers the sword in his hand.

     “What are you doing?” Akihiko gasps, his heart feeling close to bursting from the fright.

     “I could ask the same of you!” Laurence returns, clutching his free hand over his chest.

     “That sword—” Akihiko swipes at it, but Laurence hops back with surprising grace. “Where did you get that?”

     “The armoury—the men have unlocked it to prepare for engagement.”

     Akihiko again reaches for the sword and is again thwarted. “Give it to me,” he demands.

     “And leave myself defenceless?” Laurence shakes his head incredulously. “I’m already at a disadvantage with this horrid thing!” He lifts and drops his hobbled leg with a sharp clanking of iron. Akihiko reluctantly concedes that he has a point.

     “If at any point I catch you attempting to collude with your pirate friends,” he warns as he passes the Cybunny, “I will strike you down without hesitation in preservation of this ship and her crew.”

     “Collude?” Laurence calls after him. “Friends? Don’t make me laugh!”

     Akihiko stops in his tracks.

     “I may be a scoundrel,” Laurence continues, “but I am a gentleman first and foremost! And these wretches setting upon a humble merchant’s vessel are no friends of mine!”

     There’s no time to argue, though Akihiko admits there’s no point; he realizes then that he believes the pirate’s words.

     Just then, a sound like a cannonball rings out, and the Biyako shudders and rocks to one side, cargo crates spilling onto the deck and over the port side. Akihiko staggers, only barely managing to maintain his footing. The ships must have collided, he realizes, dread welling in his chest. He hurries to the starboard side to find his fears confirmed, only to then hear another sound—a heavy thunk as a spike drives down into the Biyako’s deck. The spike is attached to a boarding ramp, and Akihiko’s heart sinks as a stream of pirates’ surges down the ramp.

     “Capture their captain!” comes Bohai’s voice in Akihiko’s ear, and without turning to look for the Ogrin, he nods and hastens to the ramp. He disarms two pirates coming down it, flipping them both onto the Biyako’s deck, then scrambles across the ramp before more can board.

     The enemy ship is large, but its captain is easy enough to identify. A Camouflage Krawk ironically stands out like a beacon through the fog, his elaborate feathered hat not quite up to Laurence’s standards. Languidly, he watches the chaos unfold from the bow, his cutlass drawn but not brandished.

     He’s flanked by a number of his underlings; Akihiko counts five or six silhouettes wavering in the fog. Sidling up against the foremast, he draws a shuriken and locks onto a target—the red Grarrl standing nearest to him. He hurls the long, straight blade and hears the Grarrl cry out, collapsing as the projectile strikes his leg. The other pirates turn their swords toward the mast, but Akihiko is quicker; he throws a handful of shuriken, aiming low with the intent of impeding their ability to move about. He doesn’t wait to hear if the blades meet their marks, leaping forward with his short sword drawn and slashing his way past any who try to intercept him. He swings at the captain’s exposed back. If he can end this fight here and now…

     He’s jolted when the captain suddenly turns and blocks his strike with his cutlass.

     “Who are you, boy?” the Krawk growls, and Akihiko grits his teeth, straining to keep the cutlass from reaching his throat. “Going up against the crew of the Crimson Piraket, eh? Do you know who I am?”

     Akihiko starts to lose purchase on the deck from the force of the captain’s thrust, and he braces himself against the ship’s wheel. The pirate laughs, leering at him as he closes in.

     “Those were some cute heroics,” he croons, leaning in toward Akihiko’s face. “But what a foolish, fatal mistake for you.”

     Akihiko knows the Krawk is right. That’s why he had hoped to take him out with a sneak attack; he isn’t built for direct combat.

     Time to retreat.

     Akihiko breathes in, then drops his blade and ducks beneath the ship’s wheel in one single motion. He needs to get back into the shadows. If he can do that, he can disappear and come up with another plan.

     Before he can flee the foredeck, however, one of the wounded pirates reaches up and catches his leg, tripping him. A moment later, the scaly hand of the Krawk captain folds around his ankle, and Akihiko finds himself being dragged back.

     “Slippery one, aren’t you?” the Krawk says with a grin, hauling Akihiko back to his feet by the scruff of his neck. “But not slippery enough for ol’ Bartholomew, Scourge of the Skies.”

     He forces Akihiko toward the very edge of the bow, still holding him by the neck. Akihiko claws at the hand, but Badtholomew is unperturbed. He extends his arm outward, and Akihiko kicks at the air, his stomach turning as he realizes there’s nothing but open space beneath him. He can’t breathe; aside from the panic, Bartholomew’s hold on him is tight, unrelenting.

     Until it isn’t.

     The Krawk’s fingers begin to loosen. “We don’t have a plank for you to walk—too old-fashioned, you see. But I think I can recreate the experience for you just fine.”

     No, Akihiko thinks, his head starting to go fuzzy. Master… Master… Forgive me…

     The sensation of falling is gut-churning. Akihiko can’t even scream as his last tether to solid ground—Bartholomew’s hand—releases him. For a split second, all he can do is wonder, bemusedly, just how long he’ll fall before—

     Before—

     “Gotcha!”

     Akihiko’s arm nearly jerks out of its socket with the force of his own body weight as a hand closes around his wrist, stopping his fall. He slams against the prow of the ship, bouncing once and causing the hand holding him to slip upwards a few terrifying centimetres.

     “Kneel,” comes Bohai’s commanding voice from above, and Akihiko blinks back sudden burning tears.

     He’s saved. Bohai’s saved him.

     But the sound of steel striking steel sounds out, and Bohai grunts, his voice somehow further away now.

     “Ugh, quit squirming, would you?” says the voice directly above him.

     It doesn’t belong to Bohai.

     Akihiko turns his eyes up. He swallows.

     It isn’t Bohai who saved him.

     It’s Laurence.

     To be continued…