Day 10, 1:00 AM

“Stop jinxing us!”

— Leandra Hassel

About four hours after sunset, it’s time to kick Stinky off our boat. He used to be Scratchy, but I renamed him after Manuella baptized him in perfume, suffocating all his fleas.

We are in our underwear, our clothes tied around the mut’s midsection at the river bank. We’re drifting down the river, and the clear sky’s gigantic white moon and stars shine bright enough to see by, but I can see clouds rushing in from the east, consuming the galaxies above.

Manuella is beautiful. A strap of cloth binds her breasts, and she would have looked like a warrior princess, if not for her underpants, which look like a puffy diaper.

That butt should wear thongs or some see-through lace underwear.

I hate to spoil the picturesque scene, but practical problems need solving.

“We should wash up, so that we don’t catch fleas,” I say. “Our spare clothes were packed in sacks, so washing ourselves should remove the pests, I hope.”

I wait a moment, and she nods. Really cheap on words, aren’t you? You weren’t like that last time, when you were in charge.

“I’ll go first.” I take off my trunks and jump into the river. The water is cold, but not frigid, and I enjoy a five minute dunk, making sure to submerge myself completely, holding my breath for as long as I can, which turns out to be really long.

The sky is still bright as I swim for the boat, hoping my effort was enough to drown all the presents Stinky has left for us. I latch on the boat’s side, and it tilts.

“Go on the other end,” I tell Manuella, and after hearing her shuffle away, I pull myself aboard. The air is chilly, my nuts pea-sized. Slightly embarrassed, I wipe myself as best as I can with my hands, saving the dry towel for Manuella.

I should’ve bought two, but there’s already so much junk we’re lugging.

My heart races as she undresses and jumps into the water. I gulp while she’s under and use the chance to calm down. I check BSD. Redo’s cooldown is five and a half days, I’m perfectly healthy and suffer no adverse conditions.

Everything is fine, for now.

I strain my eyes to see her in the fading light, but all I see is someone’s head and shoulders in the rippling, star-filled reflection. Then, I catch a glimpse of something else. Further down the river, there’s a patch of darkness where stars should be.

It’s getting closer, I realize.

“Manuella, come back,” I say just as she dives under, trying to drown any fleas which may have boarded her.

Shit! I look around, and the only thing remotely useful as a weapon is an old oar.

“Quiet,” someone hisses from the advancing darkness, shushing someone whom I failed to hear.

Should I play dumb, like I haven’t seen them? What do I stand to gain from it? Nothing, unfortunately. There’s no place to hide on our tiny vessel, I can either jump into the water, or paddle their heads to protect our possessions from whoever is invading.

They could be smugglers? A part of me hopes for a moment, but I know it’s just me lying to myself. Why would smugglers, who don’t wish to be caught or seen, ever speed up to catch up to us?

Manuella surfaces when they are mere twenty feet away.

“Swim around the boat, and stay down.” I whisper, and she swims as quietly as she can, but they already heard me.

“Get them,” another voice whispers excitedly, and I catch a glint of moonlight on several weapons.

Three? Four. I count at least four of them, or maybe someone has two blades, but I don’t dare hope I’m so lucky.

From up close, I can see their vessel. It’s a cross between a raft and a barge, low, flat. If they lie down on it, they become invisible from the shore.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Fuck! How far can I jump? I haven’t tested it. I wait until they are two yards away and leap, swinging my oar at them. I club one, and send him smashing into the rest as the well-used oar breaks. I think I heard bones cracking, but the crunching wood, loud curses, and screams drown the sound.

I hit the deck. The boat sways, and I flail my arms about, struggling for balance as the world sinks down, then tips up before it spins out of control. Finally, my back splashes against the water. I realize what’s happening in time and hold my breath. A piece of wood of unknown length is still in my hands, and I keep it in my left, paddling towards the light with my feet and my right.

I break the surface and the distorted sounds become a storm of curses. Wisdom or intellect notifies me that six people are shouting.

Do I board them? Should we swim for it and leave our stuff behind? I discard both notions. Climbing aboard would take two seconds, at least. The pirates could stab me dead ten times over, as for leaving everything, including our clothes, behind, our escape would be ruined.

Did they chase after us specifically, or is our luck really so horrible? I discard the idle thought, and dive, swimming under their raft. I touch its bottom and feel which way it’s tilting. With two strokes, I see the light again. I grab onto the boat’s side and pull myself out with all I’m worth.

I almost jump out of the water completely, gasping for air, and the already tilted barge tilts even further. The cursing pirates are just dark blobs, tumbling down, screaming louder than they did a moment before. Splashes follow as some of them fall into the water, then the whole boat capsizes.

The wood hits me in the crown of my head and shoots me deep into the water, my head spinning. I think I’m bleeding, but I don’t bother to check. I have more pressing problems, and the damage probably would have been worse, had there not been other heads to share the load with me.

At some point, I have lost my sharp stick, and I hit someone as I swim in a random, sideways direction. I touch bare skin, feel for tits, but find chest hair instead.

Not Manuella, I snap the unlucky pirate’s neck and keep swimming.

Three strokes later, I see light again and emerge from the water.

“Help,” someone shouts several yards away, beyond the boat, and I hear splashing as others swim and try to board the capsized raft. I grab the slick wood and heave, pulling myself up to my waist. I tumble over and roll when I hit someone again.

“Who’s there?” a dead man asks before I trip him and finish him off. I hear someone thump against wood as they climb aboard. I spin around, and I’m fairly certain the person I see isn’t Manuella. Then I see they are wearing pants, confirming my guess. The man doesn’t even get to stand up before I jump on top of him, slamming my elbow into his spine.

He wails, but I cut his scream and pain short.

Suddenly, there’s silence.

There’s no screaming, no shouting, and I catch faint splashing over my rampaging heart. Someone with common sense is swimming towards the shore, more than one person, if I hear correctly. I scan the surface of the water and see three silhouettes swimming away together. I look around further and spot someone boarding our boat.

Shit! I clench my teeth, and I’m about to swim for it when the shadow speaks, “Aang, are you all right?”

I relax and smile. “I’m fine. I got us a spare boat, in case we need one.”

Naturally, we don’t. An oar would’ve been nice, since I broke ours. Unfortunately, after capsizing this raft there was nothing left. I look around a bit more, then jump into the water and swim for our rowboat.

I take the sole remaining oar and look at it for a moment before coming up with a way to use it.

“I have to row for a while, so that the pirate ship doesn’t accidentally crash into us and sinks us ahead of schedule. So, my idea is to row in the front, changing sides with each stroke, and you stay behind me so I don’t hit you.”

“All right?”

I row for half an hour, working up heat and drying enough to get dressed.

“If there are river pirates, we need to keep watch. Do you want to sleep now, or later?” I ask.

“I can sleep later.”

I take her word for it and lie down, wrapping myself in a blanket. “Wake me up if anything happens.”

I’m asleep as soon as I place my palm beneath my cheek. Then, a moment later, she shakes my shoulder, and I open my eyes. It’s light enough to see clearly, but the sun still hasn’t risen beyond the all encompassing forest.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Good morning,” she replies. “You are bloody. Are you injured? Does anything hurt?”

I yawn, replaying last night’s events before shrugging. “Their boat hit me in the head when I flipped it. I think I’m fine.”

F1.

I check my status. I’m bloody again, and I’m lacking five health points, but otherwise I’m peachy. I’m not even wounded.

“Yup, I’m fine. I need to wash off the blood, then eat and rest for a couple days.” I flash her a smile. “If you take good care of me, this little scratch will heal in no time. It won’t even leave a scar.”

I want to say she could kiss it better, but I don’t. It’s an inappropriate joke considering our current relationship.

“What did you do last night? I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner. I was busy with my own stuff. Sorry. I should’ve taken better care of you.”

“I was just swimming as you told me. I got in front of the boat, pushing away from it with my hand to make sure it did not run me over. Then I climbed aboard when I got too tired to swim.”

“We’ll have to work on your stamina,” I say, meaning every word. “You need to be able to hike for hours if we’re planning to start a war against the crown.”

“You really mean that? The king’s men will dismember you alive if they hear you saying such things.”

“They are free to try. Last night, a bunch of pirates tried to do it, and six or seven of them are feeding the fishes now.”

“I think those men were just smugglers,” she says, evading my gaze. “They probably spotted our little boat, or heard us splashing, and came over to check what was happening. When they saw there were only two of us, they tried to rob us.”

I shrug. “In that case, it sucks that whatever they were smuggling sank into the river.”

We chat a bit more, then she goes to sleep, and I wash the caked blood off my bald head.