CHAPTER 8 Hunk
Why the brig was a thought that repeated in my mind. After the trap door closed on us and closed us into a smelly room that only let in light through gaps in the floorboards, I squatted down and reached two fingers into my left boot and withdrew a small folding knife.
“Jo or Iosefina, or whatever your name is,” Captain Atelier started.
I fumbled it open with my hands as they were and made a loud clicking sound.
“What was that?”
I worked the point under a rope and started sawing and pulling. I cut through portions of the rope and it started to unwind. It loosened and fell off my hands with a few vigorous shakes. I then grabbed the cloth over my mouth and yanked it over my head and took a breath.
“Oh, I don’t like the smell in here!” I said.
In a distant part of the room came a sniffing sound. I froze in place.
“I don’t like that sound either,” I said. “Identify yourself at once!”
“Nonsense!” The captain said. “What could be…”
From across the room a deep guttural voice spoke, “does something speak to I?”
My stomach clenched. If only I could see the captain’s face down here and express my frustration to him non-verbally.
“It does,” I said, and sang “Custos parvus,” and with a whip of my hand from my side to my face I conjured a small orb of light just behind my head.
A bright area of light appeared on the floor for about five feet in all directions and a dim circle of light extended beyond that by about ten feet and blended into the darkness.
Captain Atelier whipped his head. “Ah! What?”
I searched the darkness. “Calm down, Captain. It’s just a light.”
“Oh, that’s a splendid trick!” said the deep voice.
“Why don’t you show yourself,” I called out sternly. “And just know that I have more splendid tricks in me.”
There was a sound like a very bulky man getting to his feet. I listened intently, but couldn’t hone in on exactly where it came from.
“You say, you say,” the voice said.
The Captain furrowed his eyes and gave me a confused look.
“I think he means ‘so you say,’” I said to the captain.
The captain’s face flashed with a perplexed look, then he became impatient. “Enough!” He snapped. “I am Captain Louis Atelier. I captain an Odegrad vessel called The Hull. Who am I addressing?”
“Who I?” the deep voice asked.
Heavy, lumbering footsteps sounded. The captain and I took uncomfortable steps back, but I was still floating and so my boots made no sound. A large man-shaped figure formed at the edge of the light, and portions of the beast’s thick, leathery skin showed green as it stepped through the perimeter. He was very broad; his jaw, his shoulders, his torso, his muscular arms, his hips.
“My God,” the captain said.
“I is called many things.” He pontificated, “some call I monster, some call I man-eater. That man Gilcrest call I Hunk. I is troll, I eat the women and the children.”
“Son of a bitch!” Captain Atelier said.
Hunk smiled wide showing a mouthful of jagged teeth and snickered. I stepped into the light fully. He was so tall, he couldn’t quite stand up straight in this space and was hunched over. His skin was covered in flat lumps that might have just been thick patches of skin, and he had marks that looked like they might have been scars, but they would have described major wounds.
He had a scar that ringed his right wrist, and a large scar across his pectorals and abdomen. He had many, many smaller scars on the outside of his arms where he might have blocked dozens of swords or spears.
He seemed perfectly at ease. He took a deep breath through his nose. “Bargain with I,” he said and smiled. “I will one of you spare. I will one of you not. You choose.” His eyes swiveled lazily from the captain to me.
“You can eat me,” I said sternly. “If you think you can.”
Hunk laughed and took one step forward with his left foot. “You make I laugh.” He reached an arm out, presented a massive palm, and curled and uncurled his fingers in sequence. “I is much larger.” He made a fist and turned his arm to me, showing me all the scars criss crossing his forearm. “I is not stopped by any wound.” He sounded amused, taunting even. “You is puny child. I eat many like you. You cannot stop I. Much bigger men than this one have tried many times.”
“I’ve seen your kind before. Your kind doesn’t get back up after having their head cut off.”
Captain Atelier looked at me curiously.
Hunk chuckled. “Is plain to see.” He turned his head and a bone cracking sound came from his neck. “Ahh,” he said relieved.
I looked directly at the captain. “Move.”
Captain Atelier furrowed his brow at me. “No, that’s not gentlemanly.”
“Move,” I said again.
Hunk laughed.
“What’s to stop him from eating the both of us?” the captain asked.
“Me. Now move.”
Hunk laughed a little. Then he bent at the knees and arched his back and laughed slightly harder. “I, I, I, says she.”
I looked directly at the captain and I said sternly “my name is Jo the Blue, and I am the greatest swordsman in the world. Now move. You’re in my way, and you’ll get it my way, and you’ll get hurt.” I pointed a finger at him and I started to sneer a little as I finished speaking.
Captain Atelier looked skeptically at me. After a moment, he seemed to conclude that I wasn’t suicidal and his face softened. “Just one question.”
“Yes?” I asked, impatiently.
“No questions!” Hunk said, and he lunged.
In a flash I whipped my cloak out of the way and reached across my body for my sword. I tried to draw it, but the curve of the handle made me draw the sword at the wrong angle, and it only came out an inch. In as much time, Hunk had stomped loudly across the deck and swung a massive, discolored arm out and swatted Captain Atelier out of the light and into the dark. The captain’s face twisted in pain as he came up off of his feet. Hunk smiled in satisfaction. He wound his fist back and looked down at me like I was food.
And with a single stride backwards, I cleared ten feet. Hunk held his punch and watched me, awestruck. Then his awe turned to disappointment, then to outrage.
“You cheat!” he said and raced for me again. His stomps echoed in the room.
I drew my sword fully and scratched Hunks’s fist with the tip at the apex of the draw. His fist came down hard and hit the deck, but I stepped out of the way and cut twice at the back of his arm as I did.
In my light, I saw that the cuts I made were small, and Hunk grinned at me. “I has tough skin!”
He lunged for me and threw several punches, all of which I dodged like a cloth fluttering in the breeze. Hunk grit his teeth in frustration.
“Be still!” he said.
“No,” I said bluntly.
He wound his right arm back, then reached for me with his left. In a single sideways stride, I moved towards the center of the room and put ten feet in between us. He raced after me with loud, heavy stomps and threw a haymaker, which I avoided with a much larger stride and cleared another fifteen feet. I willed my light to follow after me, and it lit a dark portion of the room where Captain Atelier was climbing to his knees and looking dazed.
I shouted at him “I said move!”
The captain looked stupefied at me.
Loud stomps followed after me, and the captain didn’t look like he was able to dodge.
I pointed my sword at Hunk and lunged for him. The sword pierced his abdomen, and I pushed it in up to the hilt.
And his momentum didn’t stop. He kept moving towards the captain, though now his face seemed mildly annoyed by this new wound.
He skidded to a halt.
I heard the captain roll out of the way.
I planted a foot in Hunk and kicked off him, taking my sword with me. Blood issued from the wound with a single squirt.
Hunk’s arms closed on the space where I was, then his eyes tracked me like an animal honing in on its prey. He ran for me again and threw a punch.
I dodged his punch and ran past him, pressing the edge of my sword across his side as I did. I turned and watched as Hunk twisted at the waist and found me with his eyes. He was still bent over awkwardly, unable to stand fully. He looked down at the bleeding cut at his side and flared his nostrils at his wound.
He growled. “Is too small a space.” He turned casually and started walking across the room. Each foot step broke the silence. He stood under the trap door, pressed a hand to it, straightened up and stretched his arm into it. The trap door sprung open and he reached into the sunlight. He grabbed the deck above and pulled himself up and out of the brig.
Captain Atelier and I met each other's gaze.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Wait and see?”
I looked back at the trap door. Much lighter footsteps pounded the deck above us. I heard muffled shouts.
“You, monster! You are not supposed to be above deck!”
“Get back down below!”
There was a moment of silence, and it was broken by a deep, guttural shout “girl come out! Fight I where there is space!”
I looked at Captain Atelier and complained “he’s going to be more vigorous now, isn’t he?”
Captain Atelier looked stupefied again, then he laughed.
“Are you alright, captain? He hit you pretty good.”
“I’m fine,” he groaned. “I’m fine.” He sucked in a breath. “You might not be. You ran him clean through and he’s still standing. That’s madness.”
“How come you don’t seem surprised by him?” I asked.
Hunk shouted again. “Girl fight here!”
There were more shouts from the men above I couldn’t make out. I waited for them to quiet down.
“We merchants already knew about them,” Captain Atelier said. “If you survive, I’ll tell you more if you like.”
Oh? I turned and started walking towards the trap door. “I want to hear everything. And I want a promotion.”
Captain chuckled. “Did I hear you say… No, nevermind.”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Yes, you did.” Then I leapt straight up.
I dodged a wild green punch as I cleared the trapdoor and another fifteen or twenty feet of air. I looked down at the bright deck of musketeers with wild and furious faces. I looked at the upper decks and saw the amazed faces of a couple of officers and more sailors.
I looked back down at Hunk’s green, grinning face. In the light of day, I could see that his forearms and legs had an appearance of very calloused skin. It was darker and thicker and covered in more of those wide, flat lumps like scales of thick flesh.
The wounds on his abdomen and his flank didn’t appear to bleed anymore.
I floated down and landed gently on my toes. I cocked an eyebrow and Hunk, and I pointed my sword at him again.
“Girl,” he said. “You fly?”
“Yep.”
Hunk chuckled. He reached down for his muscular abdomen and rubbed it with a large finger tip. “I no can die.”
“I disagree.” I gave my sword a flick and some blood splashed the deck.
Hunk laughed.
“Why fight me?” I asked. “Why not escape?”
Hunk looked and sounded satisfied. “I here to eat.”
“Understood!”
“Sailors!” An officer shouted. “Shoot her! Shoot the witch!”
“You!” I started to say, and nearly cursed. The musketeers aimed their muskets for me and I moved.
Bangs went off all around me. Flashes of fire and clouds of smoke erupted from a dozen barrels.
I strode, and was ten feet from where I was standing when the shots went off, flying directly for Hunk with the point of my sword first. I pierced his chest to the hilt, and his body jerked. I planted a foot in him and kicked off him. A green hand flailed wildly for my ankle as I went up. I came down on his shoulder and buried the sword into the gap between his neck and shoulder. He twisted wildly at waist and spun a half circle. I twisted my sword and pressed the edge into him, and I kicked up off his shoulders straight up into the air. I looked down at him grasping for his sputtering shoulder with both hands. I cut downwards as I floated to the deck. I caught him in the side of the neck and opened a gash, and I dragged the edge of my sword down his arms. His face twisted with pain, and his head turned hard. His knee hit the deck with a loud bang.
I took a single stride backwards and put a distance for charging in between us.
He shook his head and scowled at me.
I did a flourish with my sword, presented the edge at him, and I took a single stride. As I passed him, I caught him under the chin with the edge.
He gargled, then there was another loud bang as he hit the deck behind me.
I waited and didn’t hear him move.
I looked around at all the silent, stunned crew of Count Gilcrest's ship.
“Witch Iosefina!” called an officer from the upper deck.
I turned and looked up at him.
“You will surrender, now!”
I didn’t feel like raising my voice. I leapt up. Some of the crew flinched.
I landed on the upper deck. I rubbed the railing gently with my offhand once, and pointed my sword at the faltering stoic face of the officer.
“My answer,” I said.
The officer tilted his chin up at me. I pressed the bloody tip of my sword to his collar and I stepped in really close. With my offhand, I presented a single finger at him.
“You, officer, what’s your name?”
“I am Captain Frank Osborne,” he said with a firm voice.
“Captain Frank Osborne,” I repeated and thought for a beat. “How would you like for that name to be known as the captain who sank Midland’s foremost ship?”
He narrowed his eyebrows at me. “Do your worst.”
“I will,” I said sternly. “I absolutely will. You can bet your fool arse.”
Captain Osborne just looked back at me. Then his eyes swiveled away.
“Sorry about your uniform,” I said sternly. I kept the point of my sword in between myself and Captain Osborne and I walked past him. “I’m going up stairs. I’m going to have a word with the count. This ship will burn and sink into the Middle Sea if anyone follows me. You can share a watery grave with that green monster.”
Captain Osborne gulped.
