The Buccaneer's Apprentice by V. Briceland Page B

suggestion. “Pirate not care. You say Maxl should not attack Charlemance boat, because he is from Charlemance? Pirate say pooh that.” He struggled forward, jerking back and forth to scoot across the cave floor regardless of his bonds. “When man become pirate, he is becoming free man, man without country.” He wrinkled his nose and tossed back the hair that was tickling it. “Or sometimes woman,” he admitted.
    “But that’s insane,” Nic told him. “You don’t lose your heritage because you become a pirate.”
    “A pirate is an outlaw. I’m afraid no country is going to set their banners flying with joy at the sight of a pirate frigate. They disrupt the flow of goods and make the seas a place of terror.” Nic nodded at the old man’s words, thinking of the dread he’d felt upon wakening at the mercy of a pirate’s blade, two nights before. Any man who’d say such a thing had to be trustworthy. “No offense, my piratical friend, but that is the way of the world.”
    “Maxl no … offense.” The pirate mouthed the word carefully, as though it were the first time he was using it. Cheerfully, he added, “Is true. Pirate answer to no country. Is why Maxl not pirate no more.”
    “Signor. What is your name?” Nic asked, on sudden impulse.
    “My name?” The man hesitated before answering. “Jacopo. Jacopo Colombo.”
    “Signor Colombo, listen to me. My name is Niccolo Dattore. I have lived in Cassaforte all my life. I was on a ship, the Pride of Muro , sailing from Massina to Orsina with my master and his troupe of actors. My master was asked to bring his Theatre of Marvels on tour, in honor of King Alessandro naming Milo Sorranto as heir to the throne,” Nic explained to the old man. He spoke hastily, as if expecting the girl to step in and separate them at any moment. “Maxl’s men boarded our ship. They killed the captain and most of the crew.”
    “I am not being in that,” Maxl protested, scraping forward a few more inches. “I am off boat before orders made. Why you make noise?”
    “I’m making noise,” Nic said, furiously moderating his tone because he was, indeed, making too much of it, “because you—they—took my master and his lady, and all the troupe! I’m making noise because I’m gods-know-where in the middle of the sea without a chance of getting back home. If I had a home to go back to. Which I no longer do.” He turned to the old man. “For the first time I had a master I was proud to serve.”
    “You do revenge on him.” Maxl pointed out. “You kill the pirate killing him. That is honor. Be happy!”
    “Stop making it sound like something to be proud of!” If Maxl didn’t pick up on Nic’s every word, his tone got through. The pirate shrank back. “If that’s honor, I want none of it. It didn’t make me happy. One man is dead at my hand. Probably four others as well.” Thinking about the enormity of what he’d done caused a point at the front of his skull to ache. “I had to, though. I had to.”
    One of Jacopo’s hands reached out to steady Nic. “It sounds like it was self-defense.”
    Nic nodded. “Honor won’t bring back the captain or his men. Honor won’t bring back the Arturos, and now they’ve been sold for … for … for soup! Or for their gold teeth.”
    “Sell chicken for soup,” Maxl said, almost attempting to be comforting. “Live folk make better slaves.”
    “That’s superb news, Maxl,” Nic snapped. “I thank you for that. Slavery is so much better.” It wasn’t, of course. Nic added it to the list of things he couldn’t bear to think about. “What did I expect, coming from the man who thought stringing a bit of hair from my sword would make everything right?” The old man didn’t seem to understand, but Nic realized that now was not the time for any further explanation. “Listen,” he told Jacopo, trying to turn in place. “She didn’t tie you up. Undo my knots. Let me free. I’ll take care of the girl.” It was a