How Disa Became a Pirate
“Ye
‘an’ed ta see me, Aurt’ur?” Red had just entered his Cap’n and best friend’s
cabin aboard the Emerald Rose. It was an hour before dawn. Sampford quickly
motioned for quiet, glancing towards his bed. He motions for them to head out
of the room. Red had followed his gaze and saw the newest member of their crew
still curled up asleep.
Red followed his Cap’n out of the cabin. They soon emerge on deck. “Ye kno’d, ye gonnae ‘ave ta le’ ‘er sleep wit ta crew, ye e’er ‘ant ‘er ta be accep’ed.” He eyed Sampford; the man had been caring for the lass since he’d brought her aboard back in Bergen. Only allowing the few members left of their old crew to spell him now and again. He looked exhausted.
Sampford gave a weary sigh. “I know Red. Why I wanted to talk to you. Believe me, I want my bed back.”
Red chuckled, the lass was beautiful in her own way, only problem was she was still a wee bairn. Not for much longer though, unless Red missed his guess. Had she been a full grown woman, Red didn’t doubt that Sampford would have shared the bed, even as she was sick. As it was he’d about had a fit when the ship Doc told him to undress and climb under the covers with the child to break her fever. He’d only relented when Doc told him she’d die otherwise. “So, wha’s on yer min’?”
Arthur Sampford, Captain of the pirate ship, Emerald Rose, leaned on a railing and starred out at the sea. “Will you take her under your wing Red? Watch her back? You know I can’t, this cold-blooded lot would see it as favoring. Hell! They already want to throw her overboard, just because she’s female.” He shook his head at their ignorance. “She’s only a child. A rather oddly grown one, I’ll grant you, but still a child.”
Red looked at Sampford questioning. “’Ow da ye mea’ o’ly gro’n?”
The Cap’n chuckled and looked at Red. Then he proceeded to tell him about Disa’s wakening and their surprising and odd conversation. By the end of the story, Red shook his head. “Ye kno’, I be won’erin’ if tha’ bea’in’ on ‘ere back migh’ nae ‘ave so’t’ine ta do wit ‘er be’avior.” They had both puzzled over the obvious beating she had sometime in the recent past.
According to Doc, it seemed to have been caused by a whip and metal. He’d thought it was also the cause for her sickness. The mess was in a fairly advanced stage of healing, who knew how long ago it had happened exactly. He did warn them the scars would be nasty once her back finished healing. Doc hadn’t lied; her back had healed completely before they had finished refitting and set sail.
Sampford’s face darkened briefly before turning back to normal and he nodded at his friend’s statement. “I’d thought the same. Befriend her Red; see what you can learn about her while you’re at it. Please.”
Red grinned at Sampford. “Ye kno’d I wou’d ha’e.”
The irate Cap’n chuckled. “I know, like me, you champion the underdog. But I had to ask.”
Red clapped him on the back. “Whe’ yer rea’y ta ha' yer bed back, sen’ ‘er me way. I’ll ge’ ‘er se’ up an’ situa’ed.”
Arthur Sampford felt a great burden lift off his shoulders. With a sigh of relief, he nodded at Red and headed back to his cabin to wake Disa, while Red went on about his business.
Thirty minutes later, Disa located Red. He was busy with a couple of crewmates braiding rope. She had come silently; none of the men had noticed her yet. She quietly stood there listening to their words a bit, they didn’t speak properly. Specially Red, least she thought he was Red, since he had the reddest hair she’d ever seen. She never knew hair could even be red. Her own people being mostly blonde, with a few brown and black hairs here and there. By the time they noticed her, she’d already puzzle out the others’ speech, only Red’s still gave her some difficulty.
“Ah, der ye be, lass.”
She looked at the red haired man that spoke to her. “Captain Sampford told me to find a man called Red. Are you him?” Her voice carried no emotion and her face was blank.
Red studied her for a moment before answering. Huh, she is dis’an’. He noticed that she didn’t even fidget under his scrutiny. In’eres’in’. She ‘ill be ‘ard ta git ter kno’. “Tha’ I’da be, lass, tha’ I’da be.” He set aside what he was working on and nodded to his mates as he rose. “Well, co’e alon’, lass, we’ll git yer se’led in.” He walked off not waiting to see if she’d follow.
She watched as he walked away, and scurried to catch up to his longer stride. Once she was abreast of him, she slowed her pace, and seemed to be looking everywhere all at once.
Red looked side-long at her, noticing her eyes darting everywhere, not seeming to miss a thing. “Wha’ ye kno’d ‘bou’ ships, lass?”
Disa turned her gaze on Red and focused on him. Puzzling his strange words out, she replied in her expressionless voice. “They are made of wood and float on water.” She pauses to look around before turning back to him. “They also come in different sizes.”
Red looked at her a bit askance. Her way of speaking made her sound as dry as a fact stating historian. “Well, lass, leas’e ye kno’d ta basics.” His next comment was muttered. “Bare basics.”
Disa had heard his mutter and stopped in her tracks and stared at him. It took Red a heartbeat to realize she wasn’t still with him. “Lass?” Turning to see what had happened to her, he froze. Her expression was no longer blank. Instead it was as cold as if this areas weather had entered her. It chilled him to his very soul to see such an expression on this bairn’s face.
“I will not apologize for my lack of knowledge. My people do not allow women on their ships. I can not know what I am not able to learn.”
The harshly cold weather had even entered her voice, Red shivered hearing it. He started patting the air between them. “Ca’m do’n, lass. I dinae meanin’ offence. I’da ‘oped ye’d kno’d ‘ore t’as all. Yer a’rea’y gonnae ‘ave anuff troubl’es wit ta crew tha’s yer coun’rymen.”
Disa’s face had scrunched up in concentration as he spoke. Once she realized what all he said her face smoothed back to blankness. “I see. I am sorry for the… misunderstanding on my part.”
Red sighed in relief, and was actually glad to see her back to being expressionless again. By ta moors, I dunnae e’er see tha’ direc’ed me way agai’. He beckoned her. “Co’e alon’ no’, lass. We’ll git ye a ‘ammock se’ up, an’ star’ sho’in’ ye ta ship.”
Disa trotted after him. What a strange man. She shook her head. At least his manner of speaking was becoming easier for her to understand. She gave an inward sigh as she thought over his comment of her countrymen. She knew full well that if she didn’t watch herself, she’d be dead or tossed overboard with a quickness. She didn’t even have a weapon, having left it behind when she escaped her fadir.
*****
A few days had passed since Disa had awaked on the Emerald Rose. Red had strung a hammock up in a corner behind his, which made her nervous until he turned to her and said, ‘Der, ‘ow ‘one ‘ill dare ta both'r ye wit ou’ dealin’ wit me firs’. She had only stared at him as her mind spun madly. Even though she had become angry at him, misunderstanding his words earlier, he’d still decided to offer his protection when she was at her most vulnerable. It touched something inside her. She vowed right then and there to learn all he had to teach her without mishap. For some odd reason, she wanted this kindly, red-haired man to be proud that he was teaching her. For the most part, she’d managed to keep that vow, so far. There had only been one incident that marred it. It had come when it was time to sleep in that same hammock.
She’d never seen one before, let alone slept in one. She had no idea what to do. She watched Red and the others climb into theirs. Trying to mimic them, she attempted to climb into hers, and was flipped around and dumped on the floor. She lay there blinking as those around bedding down suddenly laughed uproariously.
She didn’t grow angry at their laughter, which was another vow she’d made. No matter what the crew did or said to her, she would not react like she had towards Red earlier that day. Suddenly, Red’s face popped into her line of sight. His expression was amusement warring with worry. “Lass? Ye a’igh’?”
She nodded. “I am sorry. I am afraid I did it wrong.”
Red snorted and the corners of his mouth were twitching. “I’da say ye di’. Com’on, le’s git ye up an’ try a’ain.” He pulled her to her feet. “I shoul’ae kno’d ye coul’nae kno’ ‘ow ta climb inta a ‘ammock. Sorry ‘bout tha’.” Quickly he showed her how. She realized what she’d done wrong, and when she climbed in again, she had no problems.
Red grinned and gave her a pat. “Der ye go. Easy o’ce ye kno’d ‘ow.” He climbed into his own hammock again chuckling. “Dough ye di’ ‘ake quite a sigh’.” He fell asleep chuckling.
Disa wasn’t sure what to make of his laughing. It was obviously at her, but it wasn’t in a mean way. Least that’s the feeling she’d gotten. Even when those who’s turn it was to sleep now laughed, it hadn’t been mean or cruel. She was still trying to puzzle it all out when she drifted off to sleep.
Disa shook her head with a smile and got back to watching. She was up in the crow’s nest, her favorite place. Unfortunately, her turn at it was almost over. She peered over the side and saw Tibble climbing up. She gave a sigh. Soon she’d be back on deck and have to deal with the crew again.
Just as Tibble reached the crow’s nest, Disa heard the name Red tended to call her by. Peering over again, she saw him waving for her to come to him. Tibble gave her a curt nod as he settled in. Nodding back Disa perched herself on the edge of the nest and eyed the rigging below her. She wanted to try something, earlier she’d found unused leather scraps to wrap her hands to keep them from harm.
Suddenly, she launched herself from her perch. She heard Tibble’s gasp as she dropped, and a shout from below, that strangely, sounded more like a curse. Twisting in mid-air, her hand shot out, grabbing a rope. As she came to a sudden stop, her body slammed into the netting. Instinctively, she tangled her feet into it and grabbed a perch with her other hand. She’d damn near dislocated a shoulder when she’d jerked to a stop. Aimed too low. Have to remember to pick a point high next time.
She untangled her feet and sprung off her perch, doing a back flip towards her next picked perch. It wasn’t as far, but only because of the design of the rigging. Twisting again, she slammed belly first into a yardarm, knocking the wind from herself. Damn! Definitely going to have to make the jumps shorter. That hurt. She laid there a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She then dropped down to the gently sloping netting that hung off the yardarm, and tucked her arms to her body and let herself roll down it.
As she got closer to it’s end, a hand shot out again, going through the squared ropes. She quickly folded her arm back towards her body at the elbow, creating a kind of hook. Jerking to a stop, it wasn’t as bad as the first one had been. She’d timed it perfectly; she was only a few feet from the deck. Clambering out of the netting, she bounded off to Red, grinning like mad.
“You wished to see me?” There was a joyful exuberance in her voice, like she was finally alive. She peered closer at Red, and saw he was awfully pale, more so then normal. “Red? Are you alright?” There was even a hint of concern in her voice. This was the most display of emotion she’d shown since waking on the Emerald Rose.
All Red could do was star at her. If he hadn’t been in such a state of shock over her unorthodox decent from the crow’s nest, he might have actually marveled at the smile on her face and tones in her voice. Unfortunately, in his shock, he yelled instead with all the fear and panic he had felt watching her mad fall, even his brogue disappeared. “What in blazes were you thinking? Trying to kill yourself?
Disa blinked at him in startled surprise. Though his tone wasn’t angry, his yelling still brought back hated memories. She stiffened and all emotion drained from her face and voice. “No, Sir. I was trying out a faster way down.”
He stared at her in bafflement, still yelling. “A quicker way down?”
Quietly a calm voice cut through Red’s yelling. “Problem Red?” Cap’n Sampford walked up and eyed the two. Disa ramrod straight as if she was in the Royal Navy instead of on a pirate ship. And Red looking extremely upset, his face was even red.
Red sputtered, and then with what seemed to be a Herculean effort, he calmed down. In a more normal voice, but minus his usual cheerfulness, he finally answered. “No, Cap’n”
Sampford raised a brow. “No? Come now Red, we’ve been friends for far too long. You don’t get excited like that without good cause.” He turned his inquiring gaze to Disa. “Disa? Would you care to tell me what’s going on?”
Disa stiffened even more, if that was possible. She didn’t look at him and she didn’t want to tell him what she’d done. By Red’s reaction, she guessed he’d probably explode too. But he was now her Cap’n and he had asked her a question.
Before she could reply though, Red spoke up. “It twere not’in’ Cap’n. Ta lass slipped as she ca’e dow’ fro’ ta cro’ nes’. I’da though’ ta nex’ t’ing I’da see is her spa’er’ ‘cross ta deck. Tha’ ‘as wha’ me yellin’ ‘as o’er.”
Sampford stared at Red. He had heard Red’s initial yelling, it was what had brought him out of his cabin, as his shouted curse had not. His explanation just now didn’t mesh with the yelling he’d heard. He looked back at Disa. She was still ramrod stiff, and it looked as if it hurt. It is unnatural for someone to stand at that kind of attention. He gave a sigh and shook his head, if Red wanted him to really know what was going now just now, he’d tell him later Sampford knew. “Very well,” he said to Red. “Disa?” He waited until she turned to him, moving her head jerkily. “Be more careful, hmm. Hate to see you all busted up after all the time I invested nursing you back to health.” There was a twinkle in his eye at the reminder. Stiffly she gave him the barest of nods. He sighed again at her lack of response. “And relax, Child, this is no Naval vessel that you have to stand at attention.” There was a note of exasperation in his voice. He turned and walked back to his cabin.
Red looked at her and winced. She hadn’t relaxed one bit. Damn me and me mouth. “Look, lass, I’ma sorry I'da yelled at ye. Bu’ ye scart me ta death.”
As he spoke in his more natural voice, Disa finally relaxed her stance. She looked at him finally, then ducked her head and mumbled, “sorry.”
He reached out and ruffed her hair. “Ah, lass.” He sighed. “yer gonnae do I’ a’ain ain’tcha?”
Her head still ducked she peeked up at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded.
He snorted. “Tha’ woul’ fi’ure. Co’ on le’s go eat.” He walked off to the galley. Disa followed.
She was confused; she didn’t understand this sudden switch in temperament. It seemed Red accepted that she’d do her acrobatics again. She was baffled as to take that.
After a meal eaten in silence, each lost to their own thoughts, Disa had started to head for the crew quarters. “Hol’ up, lass.” She turned and looked at Red questioningly. He beckoned her to follow him, so she did. He took her to an out of the way section of the ship. He sat on a small barrel and lit a pipe. Motioning her to make herself comfortable, he studied her for a long moment. Then he looked out to sea.
Disa sat quietly looking out to sea also. Silence had never bothered her, in many ways it was like a best friend. She was content to sit with Red while he smoked his pipe. She liked Red, maybe even trusted him, and it had hurt that he had yelled at her, though, now, she understood what had caused him to do so. He had covered for her with the Cap’n, which had surprised her, yet he’d lied, sort of, and somehow, she didn’t think that was a good thing.
Suddenly Red breaks the silence. “I’da kno’d ye really ‘aven’ any reason ta trust me. Ye still bare’y kno’d me.” He paused looking her over.
Disa had turned to him as he spoke. When he paused she tilted her head and raised a brow. He sighed and thought, t’is wasn’ gonna be easy. Wha’e’er trus’ I’da buil’ wit ‘er t’ese pas’ cou’le days, I’da prol’y ble’ los' yellin’ at ‘er. Finally, he continues. “I’ma ‘open ye migh’ tell me a bit o’ yersl’?” There he’d managed to spit the question out, now to see what she’d do.
Disa started and quickly looked back to sea. Tell him about myself? What would he think if he knew? Would he start treating me like them? True, he did seem to have a different view on women and things in general then her people, but still…
Red watched her as she wrestled with her own thoughts. He hadn’t actually meant to ask her about herself when he’d first brought her here. He’d actually hoped that maybe he could repair some of the damage he’d caused earlier yelling at her like he had, but he’d seen Cap’n Sampford duck into a shadow behind the lass. Instinctively, he knew that for all her lack of emotion and the one show of anger, that she was truthfully needing patience, time, and understanding to truly thrive. It was a perfect opportunity, if the lass would talk. He doubted he’d be able to remember and repeat everything to his friend anyway. Suddenly Disa’s emotionless voice spoke, catching his attention.
*****
“My name is Disa Drekidottir, which in your language translates to Active Spirit Daughter of Dragon. Though in truth Dreki isn’t my fadir, but a very distant ancestor. My family through the generations has kept Dreki and either added dottir or sonr to it for a family name, in honour of the founder of our line.
I was born 14 years ago, soon to be 15, sometime in the winter, outside Gudvangen, which is inland on a fjord, and about a fortnight and a half walk from Bergen. I don’t remember my infancy much. Only an overlaying sense of constant fear in the people around me. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized that was because of my fadir.
My first memories are of my fadir when I was about five, I think. I remember climbing up a tree near the house. A branch I had grabbed to pull myself higher was dead and rotten. It broke when my full weight was hanging from it. I fell about the height of a grown man three times. Several things broke inside me when I hit the ground.
I believe it was my mother who’d seen me fall, but it could have been one of my older siblings. I was in a lot of pain and very scared. I wailed the like the wind form the North was known to howl. My fadir appeared in my field of vision scowling. He looked me over and turned to my mother, who was also there, and told her my injuries were going to kill me. I passed out about then from the pain and fear I think.
When next I woke, I was laying in my bed, feeling very stiff. My fadir stood at the foot of my bed glaring at me, it frightened me. Without a word he turned and walked out of the room. I couldn’t understand why he glared so. Wasn’t he happy I had lived after all? Or was I a cripple now? No longer useful to the family to help ensure survival, instead I’d use resources that a productive person would need to survive a particularly harsh winter. Frightened at that possibility, I had to know if that was the case.
Fear, and the memory of my fadir’s expression, gave me the strength to lift the heavy covers off. I was… whole. Nothing was missing, though I had a few scars on my legs and one arm where the bone had poked through it’s casing. The only thing I could think was that I had been abed a very long time to be healed.
I decided to try to see if I could get out of bed, after all, I might still be a cripple. I managed to get up, it was difficult, and I was so stiff. As I started moving around trying to work the stiffness out, my mother entered the room and gasped, catching my attention.
‘Mama! Look I didn’t die, and I’m not a cripple.’ Something in her stance gave me pause, even so young. She looked at me in… fear. I didn’t understand why. ‘Mama?’
She seemed to snap out of it and briskly came over to me and steered me to the clothes chest. ‘Let’s get you dressed. You must be hungry.” In short order she had me dressed and sitting at the table with food in front of me. She tried real hard, but from that point on nothing was ever the same.
It was then that the beatings from my fadir started as well. Before he’d never taken notice of me, unless I’d done something to warrant punishment, which hadn’t been often. My fadir ruled his family with Christianity, Iron Fist, and Fear. Now though, he seemed to hate me, and took every opportunity he could to beat me.
Most of my family came to shun me since my fall from that tree, and subsequent healing. If they had to deal with me, it was usually with fear or disgust, and sometimes both. Except the Gamall… Old… Ones, they seemed to accept me, course that could have been because I would sit quietly, listening to their stories about the old ways and the old Religion. I loved the stories even that young. Their world had seemed more fun and kinder then the Christianity my fadir enforced. Their stories and kindness laid the foundations of my life more then my parents.
The Gamall Ones saw and knew everything that went on in my fadir’s house. They watched as the beatings from my fadir grew worse over the years. At first, he’d just beat me with his fists and feet, but as the years progressed, he started using whatever he could lay his hands on at the time. It was always an Gamall One who came to me after a beating, comforting me, drying my tears, telling me a story to make me forget the pain.
When I was about seven, almost eight, a Gamall One was telling me a story, it was right after a particularly brutal beating I had just received. From that story I took inspiration. It was a wonderful story about a particular Valkyrja in Odin’s Valhalla. I swore then that I would be as strong, fierce, and brave as that Valkyrja.
As soon as I could, I disappeared into the nearby forest, finding a branch that looked to be the right size for a sword; I started to teach myself to fight. As for my fadir’s beatings, I also taught myself to no longer cry or show emotion during them. I’d distance my spirit from my body and let him beat it all he wished. Everyday I’d go to the forest to practice fighting and everyday that my fadir chose to beat me, I practiced being unemotional.
When I was ten, there was a day my fadir beat me rather savagely. By then there were only two Gamall Ones left in my fadir’s house still alive. He’d decided they had too much influence in my life and told me to stay away from them from now on. I’d stood up to him for the first time and told him no. He beat me senseless.
I awoke to the last two Gamall Ones hovering over me. 'Bairn, do as your fadir wishes,’ one said. When I tried to protest the other spoke. ‘Do as he says, or seem to. He is neither all-knowing, nor all-seeing. There will be times we can meet in secret. We no longer have the influence we once did in this house, now that our numbers have dwindled.’ The first one spoke again. ‘He has threatened to cast us out if you do not.’ I starred at both of them in horror. What they had just said was unheard of. Our Gamall Ones are respected for their wisdom and long life. Was my father insane?
The second Gamall One looked at me. ‘There is something you need to know as well. The reason your fadir hate you so. Remember the day you feel out of that tree?’ I had nodded. ‘Well, it didn’t take you months to heal. Instead, it was only a few short weeks.’ I think my mouth dropped. Only weeks? Nodding the first Gamall One spoke up. ‘Yes, and now he thinks you are touched by his Christian Devil, fear, hates, and tried to beat it out of you. Haven’t you ever noticed how quickly you heal from your beatings?’ I shook my head; I honestly never had paid attention. The second Gamall One snorted. ‘As if. It is one of the Forgotten Gods or Goddesses that has blessed you, Bairn. Don’t ever let him convince you otherwise.’ I promised that I wouldn’t, and then they left.
I sat there for I don’t know how long, mulling over all they had told me. It was then I realized I had an ever growing anger, hate, and loathing for my fadir. I decided to go practice my sword work, hurt as I still was. I slipped away and into the forest.
When I neared the clearing that I had stashed away an old practice sword of one of my brothers, there was a stranger there. He was about Cap’n Sampford’s height and build, around your age, and blonde and blue-eyed as most my countrymen. He was holding my practice sword and looking at it in disgust. I had yet to step into the clearing and was still hidden in the tree line, when he turned toward me and spoke. ‘Don’t your people have better weapons then this?’
I didn’t know whether to be shocked or angry at this stranger, invading my private place and criticizing my people’s workmanship. And how had he gotten a hold of my sword anyway? I kept it hidden way up high in a tree. He would be too heavy to have climbed that high. The branches that high weren’t strong enough to bear his weight. I stepped into the clearing. ‘It is an old practice sword of my brother’s. It was all I could get my hands on, since you know females aren’t allowed to know how to fight now.’
He scowled at me. ‘Not allowed to fight? Has this country degenerated that much over all these years?’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Well, we’ll just have to get you a better sword, this won’t do, won’t do at all. Wait here.’ He walked off. I didn’t know where he thought he’d find a sword out in the middle of a forest, but when he returned, he did have a sword in hand. Several actually. He laid them all out on the ground. ‘Now, I want you to study each one. Then tell me which ones are the better made and why.’
I stared at him. What? How was I supposed to know which were better and why? Only swords I’d ever known were the practice ones, switching them out as I grew and they became too light. And obviously this stranger thought them inferior work. Finally, I shrugged and walked over, I would figure out his challenge, somehow. I studied the swords for a very long time. Eventually, I separated them into three different piles. Ones I thought were well made, ones I didn’t, and ones I wasn’t sure. There had been about 36 swords there. He must have been a traveling merchant was all I could figure.
‘What do the piles mean?’ I pointed to each and told him. ‘Ah! Well, shall we look them over?’ He settled down and we spent the rest of the day examining each sword and going over what made them good or bad.
It was nine months later and a different clearing when I’d see him next. I had switched clearings the very next day after the first time I met him. If he could find it and my hidden sword, then so possibly could my fadir. I was going through moves I’d seen on the practice grounds with the sword he’d left me. I was mad and hurting from the latest beating from my fadir.
I had been studying the men on the practice grounds fighting, trying to learn, when my fadir came upon me. ‘What are you doing here? This is no place for a female, to the kitchens with you and learn your proper place.’ I had turned and looked at him as he spoke, when he finished, I turned back and continued watching the men. I heard his sword drawn and start to swing, by reflex I ducked to avoid being hit. He gave a cry of rage and grabbed me by my hair and started beating me with the flat of the sword. Everyone on the practice grounds stopped what they were doing and watched as he once again beat me senseless.
I awoke to no one around and took off to the forest again. By the time I reached my new clearing, I was boiling with hate and anger. I climbed up and got my sword and started trying to practice what I had observed, hoping to burn off some of my feelings into exhaustion.
Suddenly, my sword hit something, and there was that distinctive ring of metal on metal I’d heard from the practice grounds. I looked and it was the stranger again. How had he found me? He chuckled. ‘Not bad, but you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Never fight in anger or rage. It clouds your judgment. Now, let’s see what you know.’ He swung and we fought for hours. Many times I felt the sting of his sword. It’d make me more angry each time, and each time he’d say, ‘no anger. Push it away from yourself. Rise above it.’ Later he called an end to our sparing. ‘Come back tomorrow we’ll continue then. Don’t bother finding another clearing, I’ll still find you, and be cross for having to take the time. Now give me your sword and go home.’ He’d given it to me in the first place and I couldn't argue giving it back, and left.
It was probably two months that I met with him everyday and practiced. In that time, I’d decided to try fighting with a second weapon, and asked him if he had a dirk or ling knife I could use. He looked at me a bit puzzled, but handed one over. Once he figured out what I was doing, he grinned. ‘Well, thought. It will throw others off as well, being only used to people fighting with one weapon. But there’s a chance you may find another who thinks like yourself. You’ll need to know how to fight that style as well.’ So he pulled out another like mine and we fought. ‘You’ve taught yourself well. Keep up the practice.’ And he left after our last sparing lesson.
The next time I saw him, I was thirteen and nearing my fourteenth birth year. I had switched clearings again, and still he managed to find me. ‘Time to give you a new sword. That one should be getting too light for you by now.’ He was right of course. When he’d first given me the sword, it had been almost too heavy for me to lift. But as the past years had gone by, it had become lighter and lighter, until it felt like I was holding air.
He handed me a new sword much like the first. It was a bit heavy, but not like the first had been the first time I’d picked it up. Then he drew his sword and we started sparing. When we finished he gave a nod of satisfaction and left. I haven’t seen him since.”
*****
Disa pauses in her narration and starts ticking off on her fingers, a look of concentration on her face. Red wasn’t about to interrupt her, he glanced over at Sampford instead. His friend had emerged out of his shadow as Disa had talked until he stood right behind her. Several times during her story, he’d seen Sampford start to reach out to the lass, as if to offer her comfort, or maybe end her horrifying account of her childhood. But he never once completed the gestures. He’d also noticed that Sampford’s gaze never once leaves the lass. Suddenly Disa’s voice starts again.
*****
“A month and a week ago was the worst beating my fadir ever gave me. The last of the Gamall Ones pasted on, and I was upset. My father informed me that he’d finally found someone willing to take me to wife. I told him I wasn’t marrying and especially not to some ass of his choosing. His face actually turned a dark purple in his rage. He grabbed a whip he’d had special made, it had various chunks of jagged metal braided into it.
He beat me for I don’t know how long before I could get away from him. This time I didn’t take the beating because I honestly thought he was trying to kill me. He followed me ever step of my flight, until finally I managed to make it to the forest and make my escape.
Everyone else was afraid to enter the forest at night, thinking deamons lurked there. Things become a bit hazy after that. I think I wandered the forest a couple of days before I ended up heading in the direction of Bergen. I vaguely recall a place with lots of people, then I awoke in Cap’n Sampford’s cabin, and here I am.”
She had felt someone behind her about half way through her story, and as she told the last of it a hand had settled on her shoulder and a scent had reached her. By that scent she’d known it was Cap’n Sampford behind her. She kept her gaze on the sea, waiting quietly and a bit tensely as to what the two men would say.
Red was too stunned by the last of her story to say anything. He studied Sampford, seeing his hand finally on the lass’ shoulder and kneading it gently. Looking to his face, he saw the man’s eyes were closed and a conflict of emotions ran across his features; from rage and disgust, to horror, to sympathy. He decided he’d let the Cap’n break the silence. His gaze then moved to Disa. He watched her become more and more tense as the silence stretched. Finally her eyes squeezed tight shut. He was about to go back on his decision and break the silence himself when Sampford spoke.
“Disa, no one will ever hurt you like that here. Not while I’m the Captain of the Emerald Rose.” His voice had an odd note to it, she couldn’t place what it was, but she instantly relaxed at his words and opened her eyes. Looking towards Red, she saw him nodding in agreement. Then she craned her head, looking up at Cap’n Sampford. He was looking down at her and their gazes met. She didn’t understand the strange look on his face, but it didn’t matter, she saw in him that he meant what he’d said. After a heartbeat or two she tore her gaze away from his and looked back to the sea. Ever so softly that both men had to strain to hear it, she said, “thank you.”
Sampford, still looking at her, gave her shoulder a last gentle squeeze. He then turned and quickly headed for his cabin.
Red watched him walk off with a thoughtful look. Well I’da be damned. He turned back to Disa who was still staring out to sea. “Co’ on lass, ‘ime ta ‘urn in.” They both rose and headed below decks to their hammocks.
Red followed his Cap’n out of the cabin. They soon emerge on deck. “Ye kno’d, ye gonnae ‘ave ta le’ ‘er sleep wit ta crew, ye e’er ‘ant ‘er ta be accep’ed.” He eyed Sampford; the man had been caring for the lass since he’d brought her aboard back in Bergen. Only allowing the few members left of their old crew to spell him now and again. He looked exhausted.
Sampford gave a weary sigh. “I know Red. Why I wanted to talk to you. Believe me, I want my bed back.”
Red chuckled, the lass was beautiful in her own way, only problem was she was still a wee bairn. Not for much longer though, unless Red missed his guess. Had she been a full grown woman, Red didn’t doubt that Sampford would have shared the bed, even as she was sick. As it was he’d about had a fit when the ship Doc told him to undress and climb under the covers with the child to break her fever. He’d only relented when Doc told him she’d die otherwise. “So, wha’s on yer min’?”
Arthur Sampford, Captain of the pirate ship, Emerald Rose, leaned on a railing and starred out at the sea. “Will you take her under your wing Red? Watch her back? You know I can’t, this cold-blooded lot would see it as favoring. Hell! They already want to throw her overboard, just because she’s female.” He shook his head at their ignorance. “She’s only a child. A rather oddly grown one, I’ll grant you, but still a child.”
Red looked at Sampford questioning. “’Ow da ye mea’ o’ly gro’n?”
The Cap’n chuckled and looked at Red. Then he proceeded to tell him about Disa’s wakening and their surprising and odd conversation. By the end of the story, Red shook his head. “Ye kno’, I be won’erin’ if tha’ bea’in’ on ‘ere back migh’ nae ‘ave so’t’ine ta do wit ‘er be’avior.” They had both puzzled over the obvious beating she had sometime in the recent past.
According to Doc, it seemed to have been caused by a whip and metal. He’d thought it was also the cause for her sickness. The mess was in a fairly advanced stage of healing, who knew how long ago it had happened exactly. He did warn them the scars would be nasty once her back finished healing. Doc hadn’t lied; her back had healed completely before they had finished refitting and set sail.
Sampford’s face darkened briefly before turning back to normal and he nodded at his friend’s statement. “I’d thought the same. Befriend her Red; see what you can learn about her while you’re at it. Please.”
Red grinned at Sampford. “Ye kno’d I wou’d ha’e.”
The irate Cap’n chuckled. “I know, like me, you champion the underdog. But I had to ask.”
Red clapped him on the back. “Whe’ yer rea’y ta ha' yer bed back, sen’ ‘er me way. I’ll ge’ ‘er se’ up an’ situa’ed.”
Arthur Sampford felt a great burden lift off his shoulders. With a sigh of relief, he nodded at Red and headed back to his cabin to wake Disa, while Red went on about his business.
Thirty minutes later, Disa located Red. He was busy with a couple of crewmates braiding rope. She had come silently; none of the men had noticed her yet. She quietly stood there listening to their words a bit, they didn’t speak properly. Specially Red, least she thought he was Red, since he had the reddest hair she’d ever seen. She never knew hair could even be red. Her own people being mostly blonde, with a few brown and black hairs here and there. By the time they noticed her, she’d already puzzle out the others’ speech, only Red’s still gave her some difficulty.
“Ah, der ye be, lass.”
She looked at the red haired man that spoke to her. “Captain Sampford told me to find a man called Red. Are you him?” Her voice carried no emotion and her face was blank.
Red studied her for a moment before answering. Huh, she is dis’an’. He noticed that she didn’t even fidget under his scrutiny. In’eres’in’. She ‘ill be ‘ard ta git ter kno’. “Tha’ I’da be, lass, tha’ I’da be.” He set aside what he was working on and nodded to his mates as he rose. “Well, co’e alon’, lass, we’ll git yer se’led in.” He walked off not waiting to see if she’d follow.
She watched as he walked away, and scurried to catch up to his longer stride. Once she was abreast of him, she slowed her pace, and seemed to be looking everywhere all at once.
Red looked side-long at her, noticing her eyes darting everywhere, not seeming to miss a thing. “Wha’ ye kno’d ‘bou’ ships, lass?”
Disa turned her gaze on Red and focused on him. Puzzling his strange words out, she replied in her expressionless voice. “They are made of wood and float on water.” She pauses to look around before turning back to him. “They also come in different sizes.”
Red looked at her a bit askance. Her way of speaking made her sound as dry as a fact stating historian. “Well, lass, leas’e ye kno’d ta basics.” His next comment was muttered. “Bare basics.”
Disa had heard his mutter and stopped in her tracks and stared at him. It took Red a heartbeat to realize she wasn’t still with him. “Lass?” Turning to see what had happened to her, he froze. Her expression was no longer blank. Instead it was as cold as if this areas weather had entered her. It chilled him to his very soul to see such an expression on this bairn’s face.
“I will not apologize for my lack of knowledge. My people do not allow women on their ships. I can not know what I am not able to learn.”
The harshly cold weather had even entered her voice, Red shivered hearing it. He started patting the air between them. “Ca’m do’n, lass. I dinae meanin’ offence. I’da ‘oped ye’d kno’d ‘ore t’as all. Yer a’rea’y gonnae ‘ave anuff troubl’es wit ta crew tha’s yer coun’rymen.”
Disa’s face had scrunched up in concentration as he spoke. Once she realized what all he said her face smoothed back to blankness. “I see. I am sorry for the… misunderstanding on my part.”
Red sighed in relief, and was actually glad to see her back to being expressionless again. By ta moors, I dunnae e’er see tha’ direc’ed me way agai’. He beckoned her. “Co’e alon’ no’, lass. We’ll git ye a ‘ammock se’ up, an’ star’ sho’in’ ye ta ship.”
Disa trotted after him. What a strange man. She shook her head. At least his manner of speaking was becoming easier for her to understand. She gave an inward sigh as she thought over his comment of her countrymen. She knew full well that if she didn’t watch herself, she’d be dead or tossed overboard with a quickness. She didn’t even have a weapon, having left it behind when she escaped her fadir.
*****
A few days had passed since Disa had awaked on the Emerald Rose. Red had strung a hammock up in a corner behind his, which made her nervous until he turned to her and said, ‘Der, ‘ow ‘one ‘ill dare ta both'r ye wit ou’ dealin’ wit me firs’. She had only stared at him as her mind spun madly. Even though she had become angry at him, misunderstanding his words earlier, he’d still decided to offer his protection when she was at her most vulnerable. It touched something inside her. She vowed right then and there to learn all he had to teach her without mishap. For some odd reason, she wanted this kindly, red-haired man to be proud that he was teaching her. For the most part, she’d managed to keep that vow, so far. There had only been one incident that marred it. It had come when it was time to sleep in that same hammock.
She’d never seen one before, let alone slept in one. She had no idea what to do. She watched Red and the others climb into theirs. Trying to mimic them, she attempted to climb into hers, and was flipped around and dumped on the floor. She lay there blinking as those around bedding down suddenly laughed uproariously.
She didn’t grow angry at their laughter, which was another vow she’d made. No matter what the crew did or said to her, she would not react like she had towards Red earlier that day. Suddenly, Red’s face popped into her line of sight. His expression was amusement warring with worry. “Lass? Ye a’igh’?”
She nodded. “I am sorry. I am afraid I did it wrong.”
Red snorted and the corners of his mouth were twitching. “I’da say ye di’. Com’on, le’s git ye up an’ try a’ain.” He pulled her to her feet. “I shoul’ae kno’d ye coul’nae kno’ ‘ow ta climb inta a ‘ammock. Sorry ‘bout tha’.” Quickly he showed her how. She realized what she’d done wrong, and when she climbed in again, she had no problems.
Red grinned and gave her a pat. “Der ye go. Easy o’ce ye kno’d ‘ow.” He climbed into his own hammock again chuckling. “Dough ye di’ ‘ake quite a sigh’.” He fell asleep chuckling.
Disa wasn’t sure what to make of his laughing. It was obviously at her, but it wasn’t in a mean way. Least that’s the feeling she’d gotten. Even when those who’s turn it was to sleep now laughed, it hadn’t been mean or cruel. She was still trying to puzzle it all out when she drifted off to sleep.
Disa shook her head with a smile and got back to watching. She was up in the crow’s nest, her favorite place. Unfortunately, her turn at it was almost over. She peered over the side and saw Tibble climbing up. She gave a sigh. Soon she’d be back on deck and have to deal with the crew again.
Just as Tibble reached the crow’s nest, Disa heard the name Red tended to call her by. Peering over again, she saw him waving for her to come to him. Tibble gave her a curt nod as he settled in. Nodding back Disa perched herself on the edge of the nest and eyed the rigging below her. She wanted to try something, earlier she’d found unused leather scraps to wrap her hands to keep them from harm.
Suddenly, she launched herself from her perch. She heard Tibble’s gasp as she dropped, and a shout from below, that strangely, sounded more like a curse. Twisting in mid-air, her hand shot out, grabbing a rope. As she came to a sudden stop, her body slammed into the netting. Instinctively, she tangled her feet into it and grabbed a perch with her other hand. She’d damn near dislocated a shoulder when she’d jerked to a stop. Aimed too low. Have to remember to pick a point high next time.
She untangled her feet and sprung off her perch, doing a back flip towards her next picked perch. It wasn’t as far, but only because of the design of the rigging. Twisting again, she slammed belly first into a yardarm, knocking the wind from herself. Damn! Definitely going to have to make the jumps shorter. That hurt. She laid there a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She then dropped down to the gently sloping netting that hung off the yardarm, and tucked her arms to her body and let herself roll down it.
As she got closer to it’s end, a hand shot out again, going through the squared ropes. She quickly folded her arm back towards her body at the elbow, creating a kind of hook. Jerking to a stop, it wasn’t as bad as the first one had been. She’d timed it perfectly; she was only a few feet from the deck. Clambering out of the netting, she bounded off to Red, grinning like mad.
“You wished to see me?” There was a joyful exuberance in her voice, like she was finally alive. She peered closer at Red, and saw he was awfully pale, more so then normal. “Red? Are you alright?” There was even a hint of concern in her voice. This was the most display of emotion she’d shown since waking on the Emerald Rose.
All Red could do was star at her. If he hadn’t been in such a state of shock over her unorthodox decent from the crow’s nest, he might have actually marveled at the smile on her face and tones in her voice. Unfortunately, in his shock, he yelled instead with all the fear and panic he had felt watching her mad fall, even his brogue disappeared. “What in blazes were you thinking? Trying to kill yourself?
Disa blinked at him in startled surprise. Though his tone wasn’t angry, his yelling still brought back hated memories. She stiffened and all emotion drained from her face and voice. “No, Sir. I was trying out a faster way down.”
He stared at her in bafflement, still yelling. “A quicker way down?”
Quietly a calm voice cut through Red’s yelling. “Problem Red?” Cap’n Sampford walked up and eyed the two. Disa ramrod straight as if she was in the Royal Navy instead of on a pirate ship. And Red looking extremely upset, his face was even red.
Red sputtered, and then with what seemed to be a Herculean effort, he calmed down. In a more normal voice, but minus his usual cheerfulness, he finally answered. “No, Cap’n”
Sampford raised a brow. “No? Come now Red, we’ve been friends for far too long. You don’t get excited like that without good cause.” He turned his inquiring gaze to Disa. “Disa? Would you care to tell me what’s going on?”
Disa stiffened even more, if that was possible. She didn’t look at him and she didn’t want to tell him what she’d done. By Red’s reaction, she guessed he’d probably explode too. But he was now her Cap’n and he had asked her a question.
Before she could reply though, Red spoke up. “It twere not’in’ Cap’n. Ta lass slipped as she ca’e dow’ fro’ ta cro’ nes’. I’da though’ ta nex’ t’ing I’da see is her spa’er’ ‘cross ta deck. Tha’ ‘as wha’ me yellin’ ‘as o’er.”
Sampford stared at Red. He had heard Red’s initial yelling, it was what had brought him out of his cabin, as his shouted curse had not. His explanation just now didn’t mesh with the yelling he’d heard. He looked back at Disa. She was still ramrod stiff, and it looked as if it hurt. It is unnatural for someone to stand at that kind of attention. He gave a sigh and shook his head, if Red wanted him to really know what was going now just now, he’d tell him later Sampford knew. “Very well,” he said to Red. “Disa?” He waited until she turned to him, moving her head jerkily. “Be more careful, hmm. Hate to see you all busted up after all the time I invested nursing you back to health.” There was a twinkle in his eye at the reminder. Stiffly she gave him the barest of nods. He sighed again at her lack of response. “And relax, Child, this is no Naval vessel that you have to stand at attention.” There was a note of exasperation in his voice. He turned and walked back to his cabin.
Red looked at her and winced. She hadn’t relaxed one bit. Damn me and me mouth. “Look, lass, I’ma sorry I'da yelled at ye. Bu’ ye scart me ta death.”
As he spoke in his more natural voice, Disa finally relaxed her stance. She looked at him finally, then ducked her head and mumbled, “sorry.”
He reached out and ruffed her hair. “Ah, lass.” He sighed. “yer gonnae do I’ a’ain ain’tcha?”
Her head still ducked she peeked up at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded.
He snorted. “Tha’ woul’ fi’ure. Co’ on le’s go eat.” He walked off to the galley. Disa followed.
She was confused; she didn’t understand this sudden switch in temperament. It seemed Red accepted that she’d do her acrobatics again. She was baffled as to take that.
After a meal eaten in silence, each lost to their own thoughts, Disa had started to head for the crew quarters. “Hol’ up, lass.” She turned and looked at Red questioningly. He beckoned her to follow him, so she did. He took her to an out of the way section of the ship. He sat on a small barrel and lit a pipe. Motioning her to make herself comfortable, he studied her for a long moment. Then he looked out to sea.
Disa sat quietly looking out to sea also. Silence had never bothered her, in many ways it was like a best friend. She was content to sit with Red while he smoked his pipe. She liked Red, maybe even trusted him, and it had hurt that he had yelled at her, though, now, she understood what had caused him to do so. He had covered for her with the Cap’n, which had surprised her, yet he’d lied, sort of, and somehow, she didn’t think that was a good thing.
Suddenly Red breaks the silence. “I’da kno’d ye really ‘aven’ any reason ta trust me. Ye still bare’y kno’d me.” He paused looking her over.
Disa had turned to him as he spoke. When he paused she tilted her head and raised a brow. He sighed and thought, t’is wasn’ gonna be easy. Wha’e’er trus’ I’da buil’ wit ‘er t’ese pas’ cou’le days, I’da prol’y ble’ los' yellin’ at ‘er. Finally, he continues. “I’ma ‘open ye migh’ tell me a bit o’ yersl’?” There he’d managed to spit the question out, now to see what she’d do.
Disa started and quickly looked back to sea. Tell him about myself? What would he think if he knew? Would he start treating me like them? True, he did seem to have a different view on women and things in general then her people, but still…
Red watched her as she wrestled with her own thoughts. He hadn’t actually meant to ask her about herself when he’d first brought her here. He’d actually hoped that maybe he could repair some of the damage he’d caused earlier yelling at her like he had, but he’d seen Cap’n Sampford duck into a shadow behind the lass. Instinctively, he knew that for all her lack of emotion and the one show of anger, that she was truthfully needing patience, time, and understanding to truly thrive. It was a perfect opportunity, if the lass would talk. He doubted he’d be able to remember and repeat everything to his friend anyway. Suddenly Disa’s emotionless voice spoke, catching his attention.
*****
“My name is Disa Drekidottir, which in your language translates to Active Spirit Daughter of Dragon. Though in truth Dreki isn’t my fadir, but a very distant ancestor. My family through the generations has kept Dreki and either added dottir or sonr to it for a family name, in honour of the founder of our line.
I was born 14 years ago, soon to be 15, sometime in the winter, outside Gudvangen, which is inland on a fjord, and about a fortnight and a half walk from Bergen. I don’t remember my infancy much. Only an overlaying sense of constant fear in the people around me. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized that was because of my fadir.
My first memories are of my fadir when I was about five, I think. I remember climbing up a tree near the house. A branch I had grabbed to pull myself higher was dead and rotten. It broke when my full weight was hanging from it. I fell about the height of a grown man three times. Several things broke inside me when I hit the ground.
I believe it was my mother who’d seen me fall, but it could have been one of my older siblings. I was in a lot of pain and very scared. I wailed the like the wind form the North was known to howl. My fadir appeared in my field of vision scowling. He looked me over and turned to my mother, who was also there, and told her my injuries were going to kill me. I passed out about then from the pain and fear I think.
When next I woke, I was laying in my bed, feeling very stiff. My fadir stood at the foot of my bed glaring at me, it frightened me. Without a word he turned and walked out of the room. I couldn’t understand why he glared so. Wasn’t he happy I had lived after all? Or was I a cripple now? No longer useful to the family to help ensure survival, instead I’d use resources that a productive person would need to survive a particularly harsh winter. Frightened at that possibility, I had to know if that was the case.
Fear, and the memory of my fadir’s expression, gave me the strength to lift the heavy covers off. I was… whole. Nothing was missing, though I had a few scars on my legs and one arm where the bone had poked through it’s casing. The only thing I could think was that I had been abed a very long time to be healed.
I decided to try to see if I could get out of bed, after all, I might still be a cripple. I managed to get up, it was difficult, and I was so stiff. As I started moving around trying to work the stiffness out, my mother entered the room and gasped, catching my attention.
‘Mama! Look I didn’t die, and I’m not a cripple.’ Something in her stance gave me pause, even so young. She looked at me in… fear. I didn’t understand why. ‘Mama?’
She seemed to snap out of it and briskly came over to me and steered me to the clothes chest. ‘Let’s get you dressed. You must be hungry.” In short order she had me dressed and sitting at the table with food in front of me. She tried real hard, but from that point on nothing was ever the same.
It was then that the beatings from my fadir started as well. Before he’d never taken notice of me, unless I’d done something to warrant punishment, which hadn’t been often. My fadir ruled his family with Christianity, Iron Fist, and Fear. Now though, he seemed to hate me, and took every opportunity he could to beat me.
Most of my family came to shun me since my fall from that tree, and subsequent healing. If they had to deal with me, it was usually with fear or disgust, and sometimes both. Except the Gamall… Old… Ones, they seemed to accept me, course that could have been because I would sit quietly, listening to their stories about the old ways and the old Religion. I loved the stories even that young. Their world had seemed more fun and kinder then the Christianity my fadir enforced. Their stories and kindness laid the foundations of my life more then my parents.
The Gamall Ones saw and knew everything that went on in my fadir’s house. They watched as the beatings from my fadir grew worse over the years. At first, he’d just beat me with his fists and feet, but as the years progressed, he started using whatever he could lay his hands on at the time. It was always an Gamall One who came to me after a beating, comforting me, drying my tears, telling me a story to make me forget the pain.
When I was about seven, almost eight, a Gamall One was telling me a story, it was right after a particularly brutal beating I had just received. From that story I took inspiration. It was a wonderful story about a particular Valkyrja in Odin’s Valhalla. I swore then that I would be as strong, fierce, and brave as that Valkyrja.
As soon as I could, I disappeared into the nearby forest, finding a branch that looked to be the right size for a sword; I started to teach myself to fight. As for my fadir’s beatings, I also taught myself to no longer cry or show emotion during them. I’d distance my spirit from my body and let him beat it all he wished. Everyday I’d go to the forest to practice fighting and everyday that my fadir chose to beat me, I practiced being unemotional.
When I was ten, there was a day my fadir beat me rather savagely. By then there were only two Gamall Ones left in my fadir’s house still alive. He’d decided they had too much influence in my life and told me to stay away from them from now on. I’d stood up to him for the first time and told him no. He beat me senseless.
I awoke to the last two Gamall Ones hovering over me. 'Bairn, do as your fadir wishes,’ one said. When I tried to protest the other spoke. ‘Do as he says, or seem to. He is neither all-knowing, nor all-seeing. There will be times we can meet in secret. We no longer have the influence we once did in this house, now that our numbers have dwindled.’ The first one spoke again. ‘He has threatened to cast us out if you do not.’ I starred at both of them in horror. What they had just said was unheard of. Our Gamall Ones are respected for their wisdom and long life. Was my father insane?
The second Gamall One looked at me. ‘There is something you need to know as well. The reason your fadir hate you so. Remember the day you feel out of that tree?’ I had nodded. ‘Well, it didn’t take you months to heal. Instead, it was only a few short weeks.’ I think my mouth dropped. Only weeks? Nodding the first Gamall One spoke up. ‘Yes, and now he thinks you are touched by his Christian Devil, fear, hates, and tried to beat it out of you. Haven’t you ever noticed how quickly you heal from your beatings?’ I shook my head; I honestly never had paid attention. The second Gamall One snorted. ‘As if. It is one of the Forgotten Gods or Goddesses that has blessed you, Bairn. Don’t ever let him convince you otherwise.’ I promised that I wouldn’t, and then they left.
I sat there for I don’t know how long, mulling over all they had told me. It was then I realized I had an ever growing anger, hate, and loathing for my fadir. I decided to go practice my sword work, hurt as I still was. I slipped away and into the forest.
When I neared the clearing that I had stashed away an old practice sword of one of my brothers, there was a stranger there. He was about Cap’n Sampford’s height and build, around your age, and blonde and blue-eyed as most my countrymen. He was holding my practice sword and looking at it in disgust. I had yet to step into the clearing and was still hidden in the tree line, when he turned toward me and spoke. ‘Don’t your people have better weapons then this?’
I didn’t know whether to be shocked or angry at this stranger, invading my private place and criticizing my people’s workmanship. And how had he gotten a hold of my sword anyway? I kept it hidden way up high in a tree. He would be too heavy to have climbed that high. The branches that high weren’t strong enough to bear his weight. I stepped into the clearing. ‘It is an old practice sword of my brother’s. It was all I could get my hands on, since you know females aren’t allowed to know how to fight now.’
He scowled at me. ‘Not allowed to fight? Has this country degenerated that much over all these years?’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Well, we’ll just have to get you a better sword, this won’t do, won’t do at all. Wait here.’ He walked off. I didn’t know where he thought he’d find a sword out in the middle of a forest, but when he returned, he did have a sword in hand. Several actually. He laid them all out on the ground. ‘Now, I want you to study each one. Then tell me which ones are the better made and why.’
I stared at him. What? How was I supposed to know which were better and why? Only swords I’d ever known were the practice ones, switching them out as I grew and they became too light. And obviously this stranger thought them inferior work. Finally, I shrugged and walked over, I would figure out his challenge, somehow. I studied the swords for a very long time. Eventually, I separated them into three different piles. Ones I thought were well made, ones I didn’t, and ones I wasn’t sure. There had been about 36 swords there. He must have been a traveling merchant was all I could figure.
‘What do the piles mean?’ I pointed to each and told him. ‘Ah! Well, shall we look them over?’ He settled down and we spent the rest of the day examining each sword and going over what made them good or bad.
It was nine months later and a different clearing when I’d see him next. I had switched clearings the very next day after the first time I met him. If he could find it and my hidden sword, then so possibly could my fadir. I was going through moves I’d seen on the practice grounds with the sword he’d left me. I was mad and hurting from the latest beating from my fadir.
I had been studying the men on the practice grounds fighting, trying to learn, when my fadir came upon me. ‘What are you doing here? This is no place for a female, to the kitchens with you and learn your proper place.’ I had turned and looked at him as he spoke, when he finished, I turned back and continued watching the men. I heard his sword drawn and start to swing, by reflex I ducked to avoid being hit. He gave a cry of rage and grabbed me by my hair and started beating me with the flat of the sword. Everyone on the practice grounds stopped what they were doing and watched as he once again beat me senseless.
I awoke to no one around and took off to the forest again. By the time I reached my new clearing, I was boiling with hate and anger. I climbed up and got my sword and started trying to practice what I had observed, hoping to burn off some of my feelings into exhaustion.
Suddenly, my sword hit something, and there was that distinctive ring of metal on metal I’d heard from the practice grounds. I looked and it was the stranger again. How had he found me? He chuckled. ‘Not bad, but you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Never fight in anger or rage. It clouds your judgment. Now, let’s see what you know.’ He swung and we fought for hours. Many times I felt the sting of his sword. It’d make me more angry each time, and each time he’d say, ‘no anger. Push it away from yourself. Rise above it.’ Later he called an end to our sparing. ‘Come back tomorrow we’ll continue then. Don’t bother finding another clearing, I’ll still find you, and be cross for having to take the time. Now give me your sword and go home.’ He’d given it to me in the first place and I couldn't argue giving it back, and left.
It was probably two months that I met with him everyday and practiced. In that time, I’d decided to try fighting with a second weapon, and asked him if he had a dirk or ling knife I could use. He looked at me a bit puzzled, but handed one over. Once he figured out what I was doing, he grinned. ‘Well, thought. It will throw others off as well, being only used to people fighting with one weapon. But there’s a chance you may find another who thinks like yourself. You’ll need to know how to fight that style as well.’ So he pulled out another like mine and we fought. ‘You’ve taught yourself well. Keep up the practice.’ And he left after our last sparing lesson.
The next time I saw him, I was thirteen and nearing my fourteenth birth year. I had switched clearings again, and still he managed to find me. ‘Time to give you a new sword. That one should be getting too light for you by now.’ He was right of course. When he’d first given me the sword, it had been almost too heavy for me to lift. But as the past years had gone by, it had become lighter and lighter, until it felt like I was holding air.
He handed me a new sword much like the first. It was a bit heavy, but not like the first had been the first time I’d picked it up. Then he drew his sword and we started sparing. When we finished he gave a nod of satisfaction and left. I haven’t seen him since.”
*****
Disa pauses in her narration and starts ticking off on her fingers, a look of concentration on her face. Red wasn’t about to interrupt her, he glanced over at Sampford instead. His friend had emerged out of his shadow as Disa had talked until he stood right behind her. Several times during her story, he’d seen Sampford start to reach out to the lass, as if to offer her comfort, or maybe end her horrifying account of her childhood. But he never once completed the gestures. He’d also noticed that Sampford’s gaze never once leaves the lass. Suddenly Disa’s voice starts again.
*****
“A month and a week ago was the worst beating my fadir ever gave me. The last of the Gamall Ones pasted on, and I was upset. My father informed me that he’d finally found someone willing to take me to wife. I told him I wasn’t marrying and especially not to some ass of his choosing. His face actually turned a dark purple in his rage. He grabbed a whip he’d had special made, it had various chunks of jagged metal braided into it.
He beat me for I don’t know how long before I could get away from him. This time I didn’t take the beating because I honestly thought he was trying to kill me. He followed me ever step of my flight, until finally I managed to make it to the forest and make my escape.
Everyone else was afraid to enter the forest at night, thinking deamons lurked there. Things become a bit hazy after that. I think I wandered the forest a couple of days before I ended up heading in the direction of Bergen. I vaguely recall a place with lots of people, then I awoke in Cap’n Sampford’s cabin, and here I am.”
She had felt someone behind her about half way through her story, and as she told the last of it a hand had settled on her shoulder and a scent had reached her. By that scent she’d known it was Cap’n Sampford behind her. She kept her gaze on the sea, waiting quietly and a bit tensely as to what the two men would say.
Red was too stunned by the last of her story to say anything. He studied Sampford, seeing his hand finally on the lass’ shoulder and kneading it gently. Looking to his face, he saw the man’s eyes were closed and a conflict of emotions ran across his features; from rage and disgust, to horror, to sympathy. He decided he’d let the Cap’n break the silence. His gaze then moved to Disa. He watched her become more and more tense as the silence stretched. Finally her eyes squeezed tight shut. He was about to go back on his decision and break the silence himself when Sampford spoke.
“Disa, no one will ever hurt you like that here. Not while I’m the Captain of the Emerald Rose.” His voice had an odd note to it, she couldn’t place what it was, but she instantly relaxed at his words and opened her eyes. Looking towards Red, she saw him nodding in agreement. Then she craned her head, looking up at Cap’n Sampford. He was looking down at her and their gazes met. She didn’t understand the strange look on his face, but it didn’t matter, she saw in him that he meant what he’d said. After a heartbeat or two she tore her gaze away from his and looked back to the sea. Ever so softly that both men had to strain to hear it, she said, “thank you.”
Sampford, still looking at her, gave her shoulder a last gentle squeeze. He then turned and quickly headed for his cabin.
Red watched him walk off with a thoughtful look. Well I’da be damned. He turned back to Disa who was still staring out to sea. “Co’ on lass, ‘ime ta ‘urn in.” They both rose and headed below decks to their hammocks.