The Pirates Who Don't do Anything

[Rousseau]

Dear Captain Rousseau,
How do you like the Mossflower Country?  From you short time there, you must admit that the scenery is divine and, oh, the atmosphere, the way the snow falls at this time of year is beautiful.  Here it?s merely some frost and maybe a few drops of cold rain, but there, huge white blankets cover the ground and it is simply gorgeous.  I?m sure it is aesthetically appealing to somebeast like you.

Getting on topic, how are your duties treating you in Kotir?  Your first mate, Willump, took the liberty of sending me a detailed status quo of your current completed captain?s logs.  Ha! I always thought that, as a beast with your hobby talents, you?d have neater pawwriting, but it?s of no matter.  From my reading of it, it sounds as if you are handling your position rather nicely.

?I?m hungry.?

Rousseau ignored the voice and continued her reading.

Keep up the good work.

In other news, you have received a letter from your father that I?ve taken the liberty of enclosing within this document.  He sounds worried.  And, Rouss. Before I close this letter, I?ve thought about what?s happened and the bad blood between us both, and I do not wish for anything like this to happen again.  You seem to be making good progress, so you should be home soon.  When you return, maybe we can discuss what happened to us.

Regi. Frostfang

P.S. No blades involved.

?Are you done yet??

Rousseau tossed aside the letter that had been set on her easel during her absence.  The first time she had received it, she had set fire to it and tossed it from the window, but some unknown feeling had caused her to merely flick her wrist this time around and send the message spiraling to the floor.  She couldn?t tell whether it was some act of remorse for the king or just simply laziness and not finding a torch.

She dearly hoped it was the latter.

Rousseau blinked, the quick flash of darkness erasing her current thoughts.  The rat glanced back at the fallen letter, the line ?you?d have neater pawwriting,? piquing her interest.  She peeked at the note she had written to Willump the previous day, near perfect letters and words forming beautiful calligraphy on the parchment. The return letter from the weasel, a simple sentence that said Rouss, here's the letters you asked for, was made of broken and clumsy letters, much like the scrawl of the child that sat with his arms crossed behind her.  

Mirdros made a noise that sounded as if he were trying to get the corsair?s attention by clearing his throat.

?Wot?? Rousseau asked, keeping her eyes on the blank sheet of canvas in front of her.  She traced a claw down its surface, filling in the white space with a spectrum of color with her mind's eye.

?I?m hungry.  And I don?t feel good still.?  The older rat winced.  Leave it to Alan Blacktip to interrogate a child by giving him enough alcohol to where he had started a vomiting fit.  And obviously, the mink captain?s first thought when a horde of the water rats showed up was to dump the sick child onto Rousseau?s lap and say, ?Give him a canvas, maybe he?ll make art.?  Luckily for her, the younger rat had only puked once more and it had correctly landed in the waste bin.

?Garbage is right there.?  She pointed a claw at the freshly cleaned barrel set by the door. ?If you need t? throw up, get it over with.  I wouldn?t be pleased if ya get it on me work.?

Unfazed by the threat, Mirdros stood up from the artist?s bed and tugged on her sleeve. ?But, I?m hungry.?

?Deal with it, I?m busy,? she said, flipping through the pages of her sketchbook.

?I like the rabbit better; she gave me lots to eat.?

?Well I?m not the rabbit.? She found the page she desired. ?Shouldn?t you be in bed?  Ain?t it past yer bedtime or somethin???

?No, Da says I can go to bed later now that I?m bigger.  He says I can go to bed at?? He counted on his claws. ?Ninety.?

?Sunset it is.? Rousseau glanced out the window, an amber sun descending tiredly below the horizon greeting her single eye. ?Speak o? Vulpuz.  Get in bed.?

Mirdros muttered something about his Da and killing demon fiends beneath his breath as he sulked towards the bed.  Rousseau momentarily remembered showing up late to the eventful encounter with the Gloomers and how the rabbit had managed to kill their leader by simply leaning against a rock.  If the rattess knew her history of vermin conquerors, the horde would be nothing without their leader.

Rousseau dipped a paintbrush into a canister of aquamarine paint.  She closed her one eye and let the fibers touch the canvas in a delicate embrace.  Brushing downwards slowly, she glanced at the letter once more.  Bless Willump.

Mirdros? stomach growled.

The rat sighed.  She needed to speak to her first mate anyways.  Grabbing the second letter from where it was folded on her easel and stuffing it into her jacket pocket, she hesitantly placed her brush into a jar of water and beckoned for the rat child to follow.

-.-.-

?I thought I tol? ya t? bring me arrowroot!?

Rousseau stopped at the entrance of Kotir?s kitchens as she heard the voice followed by the sound of something smash into a wall. ?We?re leavin?.? She grabbed Mirdros? paw and walked in the opposite direction.

?But!? The younger rat broke away from her grip.

The corsair groaned and peeked around the wooden corner of the door, letting the smells of cooking vegetables and spices drift through her nostrils as they escaped from the kitchens and the beast who now ran them.  A rat like herself stood over a bubbling saucepan, a cleaver in one paw and a bottle of spice in the other.  A stained apron was draped over his pudgy body and the simple clothing he wore: an unbuttoned, olive vest and a white tunic with sleeves rolled up to his shoulders.  The cook grabbed a pair of mitts and, carefully, removed the top of a steaming pot.  The scent of boiled northern cod entered Rousseau?s nose.

This was Calder Sharkskin?s domain indeed.

?I need t? have a word with ya, cap?n,? the beast said without looking away from his work.  Rousseau cursed, earning a look of shock from her prisoner.  The rattess ushered him inside and made her way to the beast. ?Well now, wot brings ya t? my realm?? The cook hung up his oven mitts and grabbed a wet rag to polish off his cleaver.

?I?m sure ya heard that we caught this little ruffian.? The rattess gave Mirdros a soft nudge with her boot for recognition.

?And 'e?s hungry??

?Aye.?

?Well, I wasn?t expectin? this when I signed aboard the Lass.? The rat tossed an array of vegetables onto the counter and readied a knife. ?Oi! Cal! Did?ja hear that some great big ol? ship is lookin? fer a cook?  Whoa, mate, really? Aye, I heard the cap?n will want ya t? cook fer an entire castle right outta the blue an? then ask fer ?im t? make meals fer children! Oy, Rallen, mind that saucepan!?

?Sorry, Mr. Cal!? the rabbit said, rushing over to it.

The rat harrumphed and started his work. ?Ya kin start by tellin? me why I?m leadin? a bunch o' nincompoops in this kitchen an' bein? forced t? make meals fer an entire armada.?

Rousseau searched for words. ?I, err, I went trekkin? through a tunnel with some beasts an?, let?s jest say that, a certain one didn?t come back.?

?Limper??

?Aye.?

?Well then,? the rat said theatrically, twirling his knife in his paw, ?I should thank ya.  I love it! An entire galley of ingredients, spices, an? beasts t? do my biddin?.  An? here I thought us vermin were all doomed t? Hellgates, cap?n.?  Rousseau breathed a sigh of relief. ?What?s he want?  We got some stew an? boiled cod.?

?What?s cod?? Mirdros asked.

?A fish. Ya don?t want it,? Rousseau answered for him. ?It?s terrible.? The rattess remembered the first time she had tried her cook?s ?specialty.?

?Oh, no, let ?im decide fer ?imself.?

?Umm??

?He?ll have the stew.?

?The cod.?

?AH HA!? Calder yelled. ?Brilliant idea, lad.  I like yer tastes.  Rallen, take this mite away will ya while I fix ?im somethin? t? eat?? The rabbit did as she was told, taking the young rat away from the duo.

With much vigor, he separated the vegetables he would need from the ones he wouldn?t and began cutting them with the sharp blade of a knife. Rousseau couldn?t help but be in awe at the smile that had grown on the cook?s snout.  A beast who enjoyed their job was a madbeast.

?So, Rouss,? Calder said, interrupting her thoughts, ?anything I kin get ya, bein? our great an? noble leader an? all??

?If that were only true, Cal,? Rousseau said. ?I need t? find Will, ?ave ya seen ?im??

Calder smiled. ?What, did ?e cover fer ya again?? The rat dumped his neatly-sliced vegetables into the pot.

?He sent a status log t? the king, one in ?is pawwriting but with my signature.  Wotever Will? wrote had Regi compliment me an? say I was handlin? everythin? well,? the rattess answered. ?I jest need t? thank ?im is all.  The beast has been coverin? fer me from day one an? while I?ve been busy startin' fights with water rats an' ruinin? my chances o? settin? up the alliance with Kotir, he?s been handlin? ?imself an? the crew rather nicely.?

?Captain Willump o? the Crimson Lass, aye, has a nice ring t' it.?

?I never asked fer this job, Cal.?

?Then give it to ?im.?

?I can?t. You should know why.? Both beasts were silent for a moment. ?Where is he??

?He asked fer some cod earlier, so 'e should be ?ere soon.? The rat cleaned off his knife and wiped his brow. ?Really though, Rouss, if ya want t? thank ?im, find the will t? set down yer brush an? pick up yer work.  I don?t have nothin? against ya, cap?n, but you ain?t our leader.  Will is.  An? yet he seems t? trust ya for some reason or other. With the rats tryin? t? kill us all, yer gonna have t? pick up the slack. Make us want t? follow yer orders, t? trust ya like Will seems to.?

?Aye.?  Rousseau lowered her head.  Whatever went through Willump?s head that made him trust her leadership was a mystery to her.  

?Speak o? Vulpuz.? Calder pulled out a steaming fish from his pot. ?Rallen, bring the mite!?

?Ma?am??

Rousseau turned to see her first mate arrive at the kitchens in time for his meal.  The lanky weasel made his way beside the two rats, sidling past Rallentando as she brought Mirdros back to where the corsairs stood.  

?Will??

?I think she wants t? say somethin? to ya.? Calder said as he watched Rallentando get plates for the food.  

?Yes, cap?n?? Willump said obliviously, the same sheepish grin he always wore painted onto his maw.

Rousseau struggled for words. ?I, I haven?t gotten a chance t? thank ya fer the help you?ve been givin? me.?

Willump laughed. ?Ha! There?s no need, ma?am, I?m jest doin? my job.?

?No yer not.  The letter King Reginald sent me mentioned that ya sent ?im the status logs an? he thinks I?m doin? my job far better than I actually am.  Thank ya.  Ya didn?t have t? do that.?  The rat stopped for a moment.  ?I wouldn?t ?ave been able t? get this far without ya, Will?. I know I?ve been actin? strange lately, but ya haven?t been questionin? me an? you?ve been gettin? all the duties completed like I asked.  Will?, two beasts have died already an?, with the rats about t? attack? what I?m sayin? is, is that if anythin? happens t? me, you'll take my place as captain o? the Lass.?

Calder nodded his approval.

Willump was speechless.  ?I, I, err, I wouldn?t let ya down, ma?am. Thank ya.?

?I know ya won?t.  You?d make a great captain.? Better than me. She hadn?t lied when she said she wouldn?t have made it this far without the weasel. He had a way of making any order seem like a request.  Was he not her first mate, her crew would have probably killed her by now.  She remembered how Blacktail had mutinied and was left without a head because of it.  Had the stoat thought to bring friends with him, it would have possibly ended differently.

?Well then, now that that?s all settled, how about ya all get some food in yer gullets?? Calder said, holding the two plates.  With a smile on his face, he passed one to the weasel and one to Mirdros.

?Before I ferget,? Willump said as he chewed ravenously on the hunk of fish. He reached into the pocket of his tunic and produced a file. ?Here?s the inventory fer the stock King Reginald gave us. Ya should probably get t? work on it.?

Rousseau hid a groan and took the file from her first mate. She turned to Mirdros who looked at the fish curiously. ?Ya gonna eat it or not??

The rat child sampled it, his face beaming in delight.

?HA! He likes it!? Calder shouted.

Rousseau couldn?t help but chuckle.  

-.-.-

Rousseau held her paintbrush carefully. The only sounds she could hear were the sounds of Mirdros snoring in her bed as she moved the fibers closer.  She stopped, remembering Calder?s words.  With hesitation, she set down her brush and held up the sheet of inventory.  The pale light of the moon intruded her room from the window and casted a glow over the letters and numbers on the parchment.

She shook her head and put her quill to the paper, trying to make sense of the numbers. She scribbled down anything she knew. When the rat fell asleep at her easel, it was with a quill in her paw and a half finished inventory in front of her.  The rat knew what she could expect when she awoke, the parchment finished and corrected by Willump, as it always was.  A tear dwelled in the sleeping rat?s single eye.

As much as she wished it weren't true, she couldn?t do this without him.