not yet left the dockside. Wanted to come back for you first, little lay-abed, even though I’m heart-keen to see my best friend.’ His dark eyes crinkle and dance when I crane my neck to look up at his face. ‘Shall we find your da?’
‘Yes! Let’s go!’
Bear laughs and offers me his elbow. I loop my arm through his and we’re heading for the plank when Vole bustles towards us. ‘That’s your mess, young Mouse.’ She nods at the smashed crow’s nest and the splintered wood strewn across the deck.
I feel the blood rush into my cheeks. ‘Ent my fault a pack of terrodyls chose to—’
She holds up a finger. ‘Salvage what timber you can, help take in the sail for patching and sand down the boards – you’ll find fresh sharkskin in the carpenters’ cabin.’
‘Now, Vole,’ starts Bear, reaching out to tuck a curl behind her ear. ‘What’s the harm in letting young Mouse come ashore to—’
‘Don’t you Vole me,’ she snaps, batting his hand away. ‘I’ve a tough enough job keeping the little ones in line as it is, without you leading them astray.’
I gaze across the port towards Haggle’s Town, where Da’s been lodging while he trades. My heart sinks like it’s been scuttled by a fire-arrow. ‘But I’m meant to be meeting Da at the Star Inn!’
Vole’s blue eyes narrow. ‘After your foolishness last night, if I were you I’d do as I was told.’ She swishes away, all skirts and ink-black hair. ‘Ermine! Squirrel! Little Marten! Stop playing tag and help with the work!’
I chew my lip to keep from hurling insults after her, cos I’m already in enough trouble.
Bear sweeps a bow at her turned back, merriment in his eyes. Then he gifts me a wink. ‘You’d better play along with the rules, Mouse-Bones.’
‘But—’
‘Ah, just for the time being. Some full-growns have forgotten how to loosen up! And, in heart-truth, trouble simmers in many a port, though the war was said to end when Captain Wren were small. You’re safest here.’
He plods across the plank and onto the craggy scrubland. I watch him pass into the shadow of towering evergreens and disappear between the lopsided wooden houses of Haggle’s Town.
‘Mouse!’ calls Vole.
With a snarl I stamp over to the mess and start separating the pieces of wood that’re good enough to be used for repairs. Once I’ve finished my hands are full of splinters. For a heartbeat the pain helps take my mind off waiting for Da. What I wouldn’t give for a breakfast of fat cinnamon rolls down at the Star while he tells me stories of his travels.
I sneak a glance across the deck and make for the plank at a sprint, squeezing past Tribesmen carrying thin timbers onto the deck.
‘Them splinters wouldn’t hold up my drawers, let alone a flaming mast!’ Grandma yells from the prow. She spies me. ‘Mouse! What you about, girl?’
I freeze. Vole catches up to me and grabs my arm. ‘Oh, no you don’t. Here.’ She shoves a broom into my hands.
I curse. ‘You can stop spying on me now, I’ll do it! Though if you like I could wrench a few of them bad teeth out for you. They’re turning proper rotten.’ I push past her on my way back to the deck.
‘Don’t you give my prentice grief, child!’ booms Grandma. ‘If you don’t want to help on deck you can get yourself to the kitchens and scrub the terrodyl blood out of Pip’s cauldrons.’
‘All right, all right! Everyone, becalm your sails, I’m doing it!’
As I work, I notice the eerie silence of the harbour. Why ent folk heading for market? Our ship alone must’ve brought enough goods to trade ’til next week. The only creatures lurking round the dockside are a few scrawny brown mongrels hunting for scraps. Their beast-chatter is knotted and worrisome. Hungryyip! Frightedcoldgrumblebelly.
I breathe and force my heart to slow, but nerves have turned my palms damp. I just want to fetch Da home and raise anchor. I can’t focus on work, so after Grandma goes ashore with a band of black-cloaks and Vole takes her nagging self below decks, I leap onto a barrel and give a short, sharp howl.
Sparrow stumbles blearily onto the deck, swigging water from a skin bottle. Then Frog and his sister, Squirrel, pop out from behind the mizzen-mast. Ermine, Hammerhead and Little Marten jump down from the rigging.
‘Who wants a game of Rattlebones?’ I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.
One by one, their faces light up with grins.
Sparrow fires off his question again, the one he’s already asked me two thousand times this morning. ‘Why ent Da home yet?’
‘Dunno, shut up,’ I say without looking at him.
‘But—’
‘Quiet!’ I’m trying to keep my mind fixed on our game of Rattlebones, named for the ancient captain of the fireside tales, but my nerves are fizz-popping.
Sparrow growls and plops down on the deck, chin in his hands. Rune tokens and reindeer bones lie scattered across the deck. Hammer draws back his arm to roll a pearl, but Frog jabs his spindly fingers into Hammer’s ribs. ‘Argh, you bleeding half-brain!’ The pearl flies from Hammer’s grip, hits the mast and bounces off into the middle of a group of women carving bone fishing hooks.
‘Take your blinking games below decks!’ one of them shouts. ‘And Frog, fifteen is too old to be wasting your time with the nippers! Make yourself useful.’
‘Sorry!’ calls Frog. Then he grins at Hammer. ‘Hear that? I’m far too old and important to be hanging about with the likes of you.’ Hammer pummels Frog on the arm. ‘Ow!’
I hide my grin in my hands. ‘My turn!’ I angle my wrist and aim. My pearl skitters along the deck and hits the furthest rune token. I snatch the token up and add it to my collection. Hammer clambers around the deck, counting up everyone’s runes and bones. ‘Mouse has the most runes,’ he announces with a small sigh. ‘She wins!’
‘Again,’ adds Ermine.
‘Squirrel loses – she has the most bones,’ says Hammer.
I whoop. ‘Captain Rattlebones will come for Squirrel tonight, looking for his bones!’
Squirrel’s face drains of colour. ‘Oh, I never win! Not never!’ She snatches up her breath in little sobs. ‘And don’t you even think about dumping those bones in my bed again! It’s so unfair!’
‘Stop your grizzle-gruzzling, it’s just a game,’ I snap.
Squirrel gets to her feet amongst the clutter of animal bones and runs off, red hair wild.
‘One day the tides will turn!’ Frog calls after her. ‘Mouse is gonna lose and then Captain Rattlebones will come for her, urggghhhhh!’ He waggles his arms at me and I shove him away.
My teeth ache from grinding my jaw. ‘Makes no matter; this ship’ll be mine one day and everyone’s gonna have to do what I say. Squirrel might as well get used to it.’ I gather my pearls and stuff them in my belt pouch.
‘Really?’ says Hammer. ‘That what you reckon a captain’s job is, bossing everyone around?’ His eyebrows twitch. ‘Can’t wait to be part of your crew,’ he mutters.
‘Shut it,’ I murmur, peering at the rune tokens I collected. One of them is carved with an Yr, meaning bow, which makes me smile cos of my longbow. Others, showing the runes Fe and Ar, promise wealth and plenty – never a bad thing for a trader.