Spilling Blood

Serenica thought about Gadfly, about his insane eyes that would never admire her again and his bad breath.

She thought about what a good friend he had been to her.

"Spill their blood," she said.

"Say no more." Spade cleaned his dagger with a piece of cloth.

He had to be furious about losing his boatswain. He didn't show it. His rage was soft, yet it bit like a venomous snake.

The pirates lined up the people responsible for the cannonfire.

The men hardly even trembled or pleaded. They had to understand on some level that sailing this near to Aja Vana was more risky to a merchant vessel than anything else. They had surely known what that meant.

"Don't make it last long," Serenica said in an attempt to calm down her raging conscience. "I am sure you boys are hungry."

Five throats were slit. The deaths were quick, and while they were not painless, the executions were not cruel.

It was a better way to die than being keelhauled.

Serenica let out the air she had been holding in her lungs. The battle was over.

She healed the rest of the wounds, almost unable to believe what great and fast witchcraft she could do with a little help from Spade. These spells were only good for wounds, and not even particularly deep ones, but their efficiency put modern medicine to shame.

She had a lump in her throat that didn't react to the number of limbs she saved during those strange moments between death and funerals. Gadfly was their only casualty, but the loss was not a small one. They had lost the nautical mastermind. The journey back to Neul would be a hard one.

The cargo was carried onto the Princess along with the food. Serenica took care of Gadfly's body, gently wrapping him in the finest linen she could find. She noted the abundance of funeral linen aboard her ship. It was morbid to think how short the life expectancy on the high seas was.

She lost control of herself as she was turning the cloth over the face of her friend. Tears bursted out of the corners of her eyes. There was a gnawing feeling inside her chest. Everything hurt.

Someone came to comfort her. At first she didn't even see who it was. Her eyes were so full of tears. She assumed the man to be the first mate, but then she smelled the perfume.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I know you thought fondly of him. We all did," Spade said.

"He pronounced my name right before he died," Serenica said. "I had no idea...I had no idea he even knew how to do it."

"He was full of surprises," the captain said, clutching his chest with his right hand and wiping suspicious moisture from his cheeks with his left.

"Don't you dare to die on me as well," Serenica said. "I know what you've been writing. Sacrifice?"

"No one will die. I assure you." Spade managed to stifle the tears and reached out to caress the face of his dead boatswain. "Leave him like this for a while. The men and Myorka will want to say goodbye."

Serenica had not been prepared for the scream that the bookkeeper let out after hearing the news.

Myorka held her face, tears flowing, trembling and sniffling.

Serenica caught some of her grief and began to cry, too. She had never known thay the bookkeeper had held such love for Gadfly in her heart, but it was obvious now that Myorka was the loveliest, most tender of all people aboard. She was hurting and it could be seen easily.

Serenica felt a rush of regret wash over her body. She threw her head back and wailed.

"Here. Here. Please, Serenica, look at me," the Admiral said.

Serenica had no idea how long she had been weeping over the body. The first mate looked worried.

He was the kind of person to be useful in distress instead of breaking apart like most men and women, but there was a desolute pain in his eyes that betrayed his true emotions.

"A pipeful will help you," he said.

Serenica knew he was right.

"You did your best. He died the way he wanted to," the Admiral continued.

"Did I?" Serenica shook her head, but allowed him to fill her pipe.

"What should he have done, let you die?"

"Yes," Serenica said grimly. "William, if I must die, don't let Spade have my body to resurrect..."

The rest of the sentence faded into the gasps of someone suffering. She had a hard time making her breath even again, but she managed to do it and light her pipe with her own trembling hands.

"There, there," the first mate reassured her. He was petting her back now, a gesture that she truly appreciated.

They had a quick meeting to honor Gadfly's memory. A little drop of grog found its way on Serenica's lips. She watched the body of her friend being lowered slowly into the sea.

"Smooth sailing, Gadfly the Brave," she said as loudly as she possibly could. "Water belongs to the dead."

"Water belongs to the dead," the crew repeated in unison.

"I suggest we all start calling Serenica Surmica now," Spade said, wiping his face.

This seemed to bring relief into the anguished men. A few good-natured chuckles were heard.

Even the first mate was properly crying now. He hugged the captain, who in turn hugged him back. The Admiral whispered something into Spade's scarves.

Serenica stared into the spot in the waves that had swallowed the boatswain.

"We need...hell, we need a new boatswain," one of the Johns said. "I suggest Heike."

"Heike suggested, who agrees?" the captain asked.

All hands were raised. While the old drunkard was not a master of fists and swords, he knew how to operate a ship efficiently.

"Next, food," the first mate said.

He vanished inside the ship for a while. When he came back, his face looked dark and terrifying.

"It's all spoiled, gods damn me," he said.