The Blue Kingdom

Ch06 - Rice wine (Macha)



“I’ll be leaving now Mrs. Lim.”

She nodded, strangely, without smiling. “I hope the espadrilles fit you properly.”

Macha looked at his new shoes with gratitude in his heart. “Oh. They are perfect, Mrs. Lim. Really comfortable, thank you!”

The day before arriving at Wei-le port, Lim gave him a new set of clothes and shoes.

He grabbed the handle of his new bag and looked around. “Ivy wishes you health and fortune.” Lim said.

Those words had not come from the girl’s mouth. Still, Macha thanked the wishes with a polite bow, like people in the north used to do. He previously got a chuckle doing it, but this time, he didn’t get any kind of reaction.

It was clear his departure disappointed her. She had been trying to convince him to stay with them. It was a fantastic opportunity, but Em was reluctant to discuss the topic and Macha, to make things easy for the Captain, had declined the offer.

“Don’t put yourself in more trouble.”

“I will. Take care.”

“If you change your mind, we’ll be here until tomorrow morning. “Lim insisted. Macha raised his hand and crossed the deck door.

At the peer, a little boy was throwing the mooring ropes at Em with great precision and grace. He couldn’t help feeling jealous.

In the few days sailing to Hanan, Macha had learned more about navigation and the sea than in a month on the bucko’s ship. Even so, as Em had made it clear more than once, he was still a landlubber.

“Ready kid?” asked the Captain.

“You saved my life. I will never be grateful enough.”

“That was nothing. Between seamen we help each other.”

“Aye to’dat!” said the boy, trying to sound like an experienced sailor but giving it an intentional touch of silliness.

Em shook his head and rolled his eyes, although the boy noticed a tiny smile under his mustache.

The old captain was a tough, dry man, but Macha had started to dig a hole through that grumpy mask.

“If that friend of yours fails you and you need a job, look for Chan, the whaler. Everyone knows him, you just have to ask. I will speak well of you this afternoon. It’s dangerous work, but it pays better than fishing.”

“Thanks, Mr Em. Goodbye.” Macha walked down the ramp and headed to the city.

“Hoy! Here!” As Macha turned, the old man threw a bag full of coins at him.

“There are enough coppers in there for a decent bed. Have a good meal and bottom up a couple of ales to wish us some luck.”

“Thanks again Mr Em. Take care of Miss Lim!”

With overwhelming happiness, Macha headed to the town. Wei-le port, the coastal appendix of the capital city, was not really big, which made it look more crowded than it really was. It was known to be a relatively safe place compared to the slums of Tampra, however, it was unknown to him, and therefore, a problem. So, as soon as he stepped on those streets he put his senses on alert.

He soon realized himself was, in fact, a target he’d chosen to rob. Dressed in fancy new clothes, and leaving a newly arrived ship towards the taverns was to ask for trouble. The night before, he used Lim’s treat and needle to prepare the pants for the occasion. He sneakily distributed the coins in the secret pockets, leaving only a couple in the bag, which he hung around his neck.

While inspecting every corner, Macha entered the market area. Soon he found himself at home. Slowly, Wei’s underworld secrets unfolded in front of his eyes in a strangely familiar way.

Punchers displaying themselves to spread fear. Sirens and bellows, giving signals of whom to rip off. And the flowerers, gracefully slipping in any valuables, to immediately give to their apprentices who would disappear into the crowd right after.

A couple of frowning glares over his shoulder were enough to keep them away. None of those punks were going to ruin that day. He was alive, and he was going to celebrate.

After a few games and a dozen glasses of rice liquor, he would find a comfortable bed and sleep until tired. Then, in a couple of days, he would look for Chan. He would have preferred to stay at the Ballerina, to tell the truth. But whaling seemed an exciting adventure and, even more important, it was honest work. A new, decent life. No more stealing. No more lying.

He crossed two streets, searching for any tavern that wasn’t a gang’s nest. Hanan was free of Geckos, but interacting with members of other mobs could easily discover his background, something that would be just as deadly as returning to Tampra.

Usually, the clues that a tavern was frequented by gangs were subtle. A mark on the wall, a specific color on the sign. On that island, Macha had no idea how they did it.

“Wing’s.” said an old fella who was too drunk for that time of the evening. “Ye looking for that one, boy. Aye, safe it is.” The old man greeted him with an invisible hat and stumbled away.

The tavern smelled a mixture of fish and tobacco. The tables were all full of men, either playing dice or cards.

“Here! One glass of wine!” shouted the boy to the tender. “Is there any seat for a good lad willing to play fairly?”

“If da’lad has coin, here’s a place for ye!” answered a man from a few tables away. Macha drank the glass of liquor at once. His throat burned. He was used to drinking, but the blaze of that crazy brew was always an unpleasant pleasure.

“If you drink like that, you’ll lose your coin soon.” The man in front of him was fat and with an oily face. He wore silk clothes and gave off too much perfume aroma. A character that did not please the eye but surely had coins to share.

Macha signaled the innkeeper to bring drinks for all the players. It was a Parni custom that everyone accepted with gratitude. “Sir, dice are about luck and I’m a lucky man. Drunk or sober.”

“All fellas feel lucky at da beginnin’of the nite.” The man who had invited him to sit pointed to the pile of dice in the middle of the table. He was a man with rough, callused hands. By the smell of wood and fish, he was possibly a dock worker. The other players, all sailors, followed to take their dice. It was Hanan’s policy not to use your own pieces. This is how they avoided cheating.

“It’s not a feeling, I can tell you that.” Macha shook the pot and smashed it over the table, checking his luck. “I was lost in the Big Blue and found by ship. If that’s not real luck, nothing is.” With a huge grin he uncovered three lotuses, shaking the pot again and putting two coppers on the table. The players looked at each other, their faces ranged from disbelief to mockery.

“I start with four of a kind, gent!” He lied, putting a few more coins on the table. When his tablemates folded, Macha laughed. “Ha! I already told you, I’m a lucky guy!”

Three glasses of rice wine later, he had lost half of Em’s money. The dock’s worker, who at first Macha thought he was a skillful player, was as bad as him. It was the perfumed Merchant that was leaving him dry.

He wasn’t quite the fool, nor was he drunk enough for that stinker to take everything away from him. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Macha said, playing his best charisma cards. “I’m enjoying this game immensely and I’m not willing to give up yet! This gent over here is drying my pocket, and I refuse to leave my glass dry as well. What if you let me use the old drunken tradition ‘a tale for a glass’?”

“You ain’t a story I never listened before,” replied one of the players.

“This is a good one. I will tell you about my days in the Big Blue and the people that rescued me from certain death.”

A sailor, with a face of surprised interest, staggered towards the table. “You rescued by Lettuce’s ghost ship?”

“Nay, it was a catamaran. A ship with the most unbelievable crew you could imagine.”

“He’s talking about the Ballerina.” The drunk sailor waved his hand and walked back to the bar. “We all know about that cat, boy.”

“Aye! If ya story ain’t mermaids with big breasts, ain’t good for us!” The crowd exploded in a laugh. Macha tried to continue when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

“Boy. Your skin ain’t from here, but your face’s familiar. Have we met before?” asked a tall man with half of his face burned.

“I don’t think so,” answered him, taking his hand off. That someone could recognize him outside Tampra seemed impossible to him. There were no Geckos in Hanan but, did they have spies? Macha’s mind spun. “You may have heard of the ship, but have you seen the machine that moves by itself?” he said, trying to divert the sailor’s attention to the previous conversation.

“Aye, aye,” said one man from the crowd that had gradually gathered around the table. “You won’t get any glass with that.”

“I saw that devil’s thing once. I swear to the gods it moved!” said a man standing next to him.

“Nay, I was once at the far north fellas...” intervened another.”In the markets of Bandanii there is a dude that makes those things. Automats are called. Just strings and wheels. It’s all a trick.”

“How about the old man?” Shouted one of Macha’s dice mates. “His hands are as real as my eyes!”

“Same thing... Strings and wheels.”

“Aye! Never heard of armors? ya’ll stupid or wat?”

“Exactly! it’s armor, leh!”

The hubbub around Macha and the constant sideways glance of the burned man started to make him nervous.

“And the little girl? Ma’ friend piles for Chan. The crew talks. They say she’s a half mermaid.”

“That’s Parni-port!”

“Last week ye said yer wife’s a mermaid!” yelled someone. “I say she is more like a dugong!” shouted another man, getting a laugh from the entire tavern.

Macha hit the table with the glass repeatedly. “Fellas, fellas. I swear I have sailed with them and it’s all true. The mermaid girl, the Automata, The Captain with metal arms and the anthropoid woman.”

“Antropo... what?”

“Anthropoid. Like a robot, but she looks… like… nevermind.”

“You just made up that word,” said the perfumed merchant, who, like the other players, had stopped the game to join the chatting. “Here, take your stupid drink and stop talking nonsense.”

Macha took the glass and drank slowly, in silence. He felt a stone inside his guts, knowing that he talked too much. He looked around covertly and, to his relief, it seemed no one cared about his last words.

“Hoy! Are you sure we have never met before?” The sailor with the burned face seemed to be the only one who had not forgotten that he was still there. He bent down to put his face right in front of him at a distance too close to be comfortable.

“Sir, my friend here said he doesn’t know you. You may please leave him alone,” said a hoarse voice from behind.

The burned man raised his eyes, and without a word, he was gone. Now, right in front of the boy, stood a man dressed in an elegant, high-class suit. He was short and round. At first glance, maybe fat. although Macha could deduce a powerful complexion. And, with a quick look at his hands, he knew the man did not fit the suit.

His face betrayed him the most by far. A scar, that ran from the left eyebrow to the chin governed his face, leaving a dead white eye and a gouty smile in its wake.

“May I sit and get you a drink?” He said with a smirk that turned his face into a nightmare. Macha froze as some animals do in front of danger. In the slums of Tampra he had dealt with such type of men.

The scared man took a stool and sat next to him without waiting for an answer. The table cleared up entirely with no sound.

He planned his options. Escape from trouble was his specialty, but that kind of person had companions and running away could be worse than staying. “Fascinating this story about the robot lady,” said the scared man.

Macha cursed his big mouth and looked around. Suddenly, the tavern seemed much more unwelcome, filled with new and unfamiliar faces watching him.

“This woman, you say. Was she from the Nor’Wes?” The man insisted.

“I don’t think any of my stories are worth even a quarter from a gent like you, sir.”

“Ha! I know you know I’m no gent.” He said slowly, combing his oily hair with the fingers. “It’s my scar, isn’t it? Is all right, I understand your mistrust. With this face, it’s difficult to be charming. My name is Jeremiah Jong, but my friends call me J.J.

“See, I am a businessman. A Merchant. I’ve been in the far north and seen some of these wonders. They have fascinated me since I was as young as you.”

“This is not the tavern a businessman would stop for a drink,”

“Indeed. You are a smart fella. A boy from the streets can smell a peer from far, hay!” J.J. cackled. “I’d not always been the man I am today. I was once a street dog, a dangerous, filthy one, I must say. But I climbed my way out, you know? Now I’m a respectful fella… but old habits never die, I say. Even to this day, with all my money, I still like the same old places.”

“Well , it’s not that I’m keeping any sort of secret.” Macha took a glass of wine and drank it all. “But to be honest, sir, you are intimidating.”

J.J. bursted out laughing and hit him on the shoulder, hard. Then he raised his hand to order a bottle the innkeeper brought with a pale face and a trembling hand.

“That woman was a really nice person.” the boy continued, reaching for the wine. “And as you are willing to share a drink for a good story, I will tell you.”

J.J. leaned on the table, as if he was going to tell a secret. “I like the way you talk. You see, these old fags chatter like donkeys, and that’s fine. They got their years of salt sneaking inside their skulls, aye? But youngsters ain’t have time for such lingo! Nay! They just talk as unintelligible as possible to impress the others. To show off, I say. But not the good lads. Good lads like you talk like gents, hay! What is your name, my friend?”

“My name is Tulasi.” Jeremiah shook his hand with such strength that the boy thought his bones were going to break. J.J. laughed loudly and hit his shoulder once more, as hard as before. Macha took that moment to inspect the signet ring on his hand. The engraving, used to seal letters with wax, was of a marlin stabbing another smaller fish, nothing he had seen before.

“Good stories are worth as many bottles as one can drink! Tell me, young Tulasi, tell me more about this group of people. Who was this woman half machine?” Said J.J. with excessive friendliness.

“She was indeed a mysterious lady,” answered Macha, with overplayed excitement. “Always covering herself as much as possible. But I saw her secret once.” He took another glass of spirit and drank it all. Jeremiah had to believe he was trustful and drunk enough to tell everything he wanted to know. “Her face and arms looked like any other woman. But one night, we were in a heavy storm and she fell. Then I saw her legs. Made of metal, I swear!”

“I believe you, my friend. Did she realize? That you saw?”

“I don’t think so. I was discreet. I did not intend to look under a lady’s dress. I’m not that type of man!”

“Of course you are not! This woman, what did she look like? Was she from the Nor’Wes?”

“I am not an expert on North people. I’ve seen a few and I could not say for certain. But she looked exotic, different. She definitely wasn’t from the Ring.”

“Sure she was.” Said J.J. with malice he could not hide. “All these types of machines come from there. I heard the Ballerina travels to the Northern Cluster. Maybe they picked her up there, Am I right?”

“You are, my friend. She paid passage to come to the south. Em, the Captain, told me she was going to Jō-Dan, but strangely she changed her mind after the storm and left at Patrish port.”

Jeremiah showed his disappointment without shame. “I was hoping to see her in person. What a pity. Was it a long time ago she left your ship?”

“Not so long ago, a few days. If your business brings you to Patrish, you may still find her.”

“I’m afraid I will not sail there soon. Talking about business, I just remember I have something important to do.”

“But you didn’t hear about the rest of the crew, the girl -”

“I know, I know. What a pity, I say. Another bottle for my friend!” J.J. pointed to the table with authority and stood. “Thanks for the chat, my friend Tulasi. Please have a drink for my health.” Without wasting more time, the one eyed man put on his coat and stumped out.

The sideways glances continued, and no one returned to the gaming table. With the fun ruined, Macha shot out, stopping at the door.

Night was upon him, and the lamplighter was already turning on the gaslights. Macha would not look for a bed. He had to inform Em of what had happened. But to do so, he needed to know for sure that no one was following him. Fortunately, the streets of Wei were better lit than the dark and dangerous slums of Amarvatti. He may not have been good at keeping secrets, but surely he was an expert at sneaking around alleys without being followed.

All the way to the docks, he could not stop thinking about this man called Jeremiah. He believed his lies, but would that be enough to get rid of him for good? What was he up to? Why was he so interested in Lim? J.J. didn’t want to have a friendly look at her. Whatever fueled the interest of that man was of a dark nature.

Then there was the burned man. He no longer felt safe in Wei-le. If the Geckos found out he was there, he was a dead man. Lim’s offer was his only option. But Em did not want before and much less if he found out that he snitched.

Breaking Lim's promise made him nauseous.

Even at night the docks were teeming with a multitude of merchants and sailors. Almost as if it were broad daylight. Without realizing it, he was back in front of the Ballerina. The dock was dark and the only light was the one from inside the ship’s interior.

He lingered in front of the boarding ramp, doubting what to do when Em’s voice spooked him. The old Capitan was smoking on the edge of the deck, hidden by the shadows, only to be seen faintly with the small glint of his pipe.

“Did you lose all my money playing cards or dice?” He said, walking towards the kid to make himself more visible.

Macha smiled “No, no, well… A huge part of it at the dice, but I’m not here to beg for more, Mr. Em. I really need to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

”I was in Wing’s tavern and someone started asking about Automatas and such. Your ship’s name came out.”

“Uhm. That happens sometimes. That’s a decent place, with decent people.” Em took a drag and blew an enormous cloud. “Did you say anything?”

“No. no!” As his tongue betrayed his heart, Macha felt a knot in his stomach. Nauseated with the shame, he continued, unable to spit out the truth. “But the fellas in the tavern. They talked. About Rob, about your arms, and even called Ivy a mermaid. They talked about stories about people half man half machine. I don’t know. I think you should know.”

“Uhm. Mermaid is not the worst she has been called,” whispered the old man. “Well, don’t worry, kid. Taverns are made for gossip.” Em cleared the ashes out of his pipe and plodded to the entrance.

“Mr. Em!” When the captain turned around, he choked on the following words.

“Who are you running from? “ Said the old man after a sigh. the shocked boy stared at him.

“You were going to ask me if you can travel with us a little longer. Am I right?”

He nodded, and Em sighed again. “My crew don’t lie. If you want to board, tell me the truth. Who are you running from?”

“The Black Geckos.”

This time, Em huffed loudly. “Damn kid. You had something to do with the raid on the treasure ship?”

“Sort of. But I’m not one of them. I was just filling the gaps! I have no ink, I swear!”

Em beckoned slowly. “Come kid. Let’s have dinner. How far do you want to go?”

Matcha shrugged. and the captain grunted. “Talking about ink… I know this is a strange question, but, of all the sailor tattoos in the tavern, you didn’t happen to see any red ink, did you? shaped like a squid on the forearm.”

He shook his head and the Captain, with his arm on his shoulder, walked him inside. “

Lim and Ivy were sitting at a table filled with the same amount of food as the first meal they shared. Seeing him, the woman smiled, and the girl frowned.

“Miss Ivy. I’m glad you are feeling better,”

She replied with a movement of her hands. “That means ‘thank you’” explained Lim. “We are happy you came back. Will you join us this season?”

“He will sleep here tonight for now. I’m considering it.” Rushed to answer the Captain.

“Oh! Considering?” Lim’s smile widened. “That means he told you. What is it?”

“Our little friend here is a bucko, running from the Tampra lizards.”

Ivy grinned and put her palm in front of her uncle’s face.

“Well… technically a buccaneer is not a pirate,” Ivy’s eyes narrowed, which made the Captain clear his throat uncomfortably. “All right. I owe you a silver!”

The dinner unfolded in silence, only disturbed by the old Captain’s responses to the signs of Ivy’s language.

“Aye, I noticed,’’ said Em. “That’s what men do in taverns. Oh, aye…the tavern. the kid heard some people talking about us but he said nothing. Am I right, kid?”

Macha nodded, even knowing Lim would read his mind and catch the lie. His heart was racing and his eyes crossed the table repeatedly, meeting the gaze of the three crew members, fixed on him. That was the end of his opportunity to sail with them, he thought.

“Sir,” The boy could feel Lim’s stare digging into his mind. “There was a man. He asked a lot about this ship and you. He had a seal ring with a marlin fish.”

Em and Lim met glances. “The Scarlet Society of Gentlemen. The people that run the Royal Company of Commerce of your country.” said Em. “A bunch of bureaucrats.”

“Sir, that man dressed fancy, but he was no bureaucrat, I’m certain. He was a dangerous fella.”

“Bureaucrats are the most dangerous people in the world, kid. No worries. Now. What should we do with you?” Asked Em, leaning his head on his hand.

“He could help us until Ivy feels better at least,” said Lim, forcing her lips to a line. ”I’m sure he can learn a lot from you. Better training and better pay than an angler.”

Em took a long thought. “Landsman it is, no more. I will pay you five silvers a week. If you stay with us long enough, I will give you a proper seaman pay of ten a week. More if you gain skills. Payment at the end of the season.”

Macha held back a smile. It was not an unfair pay for someone as inexperienced as him.

“Listen,” continued the Captain. “In this vessel, we divide the year into two trips. During the wet season, we sail around the Commerce Ring. The rest of the year, we sail to the far north. It’s a dangerous trip.

“I’ll pay at the end of the season. If you want to leave before we sail Nor’Wes, you get half. You leave me hanging in the middle of the season, I pay you nothing. If I kick you out of my ship, I promise to pay the working days. Do you understand?”

Macha agreed. “In exchange, I will train you,” continued Em. ”And you will always have three meals and a bed. Anytime you land, I’ll give you loan for anything you need.” Em took a long breath. “Last of all. We don’t scam or steal. Not here, not on land. While on the ship, you won’t gamble, fight, or drink. If you agree to all those terms and you promise no more lies, the job is yours.” The man stood up and stretched his back.

He took a moment to consider. It was the perfect opportunity to start a new life, far from trouble, but he didn’t want to look desperate.

“Do we have a deal?” The old man insisted.

“Yes,” answered him, finally.

“Then, welcome to the Ballerina.” Em, although he had the hands of a machine, gave him a firm but gentle shake. Nothing like the one J.J. had punished him hours ago.

“Now, if you excuse me. I will go check for a good place to quarter the boy.” Em left the room followed by Ivy, who followed him with slow, clumsy steps.

“Later on, Em will ask me if you lied. That's why he brought up the topic during the dinner.” Macha's stomach jumped. Without daring to look at her face, he fixed his eyes on the ground.

“At the tavern. I am sorry… I, I may have said too much.”

Lim took a long breath and blew slowly with resignation. “You talked about me.”

“Yes. But not too much. I swear… And no one believed me.”

“No one but the man from the scarlet society.”

She didn’t need an answer. The silence was enough. His eyes moistened with anger that the feeling of disappointment caused him.

“It’s fine dear. Just tell me one thing. Did this man, or any of the others at that place, have a tattoo? Not like the ones sailors usually have... One made of red ink with the shape of a squid.”

“He was wearing a long sleeve suit, Ma’am. I didn’t see any red squid.” He found the courage to look at her. “I’m truly sorry, Ma’am. I am.”

Lim frowned and rested her head over her hand. The silence was uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry Mrs.” repeated him.

“You told Em about that man, but you didn’t mention you talked about me. If you did, you wouldn’t be here now.

“Leave it that way between you and me. And try to keep your promises from now on.” Lim moved her chair away. “It’s time to rest.”

Macha followed her to the Captain's quarters.

“Don’t worry too much. Good night.”

He strode outside to catch some breath. The mixture of feelings was disturbing.

He had a new job, and a safe passage away from the Geckos. All that happiness was stained by guilt and shame he couldn’t get rid of.

Em's voice broke the silence of the night. “You can stay in my quarters at port side. I have the bad habit of sleeping in any corner of this ship, anyway.”

“Thanks Mr…. Captain.”

“Did you get baptized by the buckos?” Macha looked at him, confused. “Nay, uh?... Kneel.”

The Captain taped his shoulders with a wooden spoon and handed him a half-empty glass the boy hesitated to drink. It was warm ale.

Em murmured some words and dropped a bucket of freezing water over his head.

“You lucky I have no oil and ink.”

“What, what … was that for?” the boy gasped, completely in shock.

“Old traditions, kid. Old traditions. You have a lot to learn.”


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