A Better Way to Stop Pirates Read online

CHAPTER 8

  FIRST IMPRESSIONS

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Flossy asked, as Harry secured the Windrush. She was interested in seeing what a town built by animals would be like. The jetty looked no different to the ones she remembered from childhood. It was made from thick planks of weathered hardwood tightly fastened with rusty iron bolts.

  ‘Probably still in hiding, fearing a return of pirates,’ said Harry, ominously. ‘Oh, and you should be prepared, Flossy. Humans aren’t known in these parts. Some Houses will be wary.’

  ‘Houses?’ asked Flossy, eyebrows lifting.

  ‘Oh, you would think of them as species, I should think. I’m of the House of Possum and Larry is of the House of Monkey. You might be of the House of Monkey too, but you probably have your own House.’

  ‘I see. So I get to have a House all to myself then,’ said Flossy as she dropped her soggy tricorne on the seat at the Windrush’s stern. It was too wet to wear and she suspected the three pointed pirate hat might startle the locals. ‘Why will some Houses be wary, though? From what you’ve told me, there a hundred different kinds of animals living here, and it’s a big town. It’s hard to believe I’d even be noticed.’

  She climbed the short ladder from the skiff to the unmoving jetty. After so long at sea, it was unnerving to stand on a surface that didn’t sway beneath her.

  ‘Well. Humans have a long-standing, though probably undeserved, reputation for… cruelty.’

  ‘Cruelty?’

  ‘Yes. Some say they once hunted other mammals for sport; that they dressed in animal skins, and the like. I know it must seem ridiculous to you, I don’t believe it myself of course, but some even believe that humans were cannibals.’

  ‘Cannibals?’ Flossy asked, surprised.

  Harry clarified: ‘Yes, cannibals; that humans ate other mammals.’

  Flossy was glad the darkness prevented Harry from noticing her embarrassment. The human meaning of the word cannibal was one human eating another; that was rare and frowned upon by most decent people. Humans eating other mammals, was not. In fact, humans ate just about anything they could catch except other humans. She had often enjoyed eating meat and living with dogs for the last six months meant that it was often on the menu. That would make the pirate dogs, and her by Harry’s definition, cannibals. The meat she’d eaten growing up had come from mammals but these weren’t, as far as she knew, actually people. They couldn’t speak, or at least they couldn’t speak Latin, the universal language. Because she was raised eating meat, she’d never really thought about it before. Until she was abducted, she’d not known any talking animals. She’d heard stories but tended to think about them in the same way one would think about mermaids and thinking machines and ships that could travel under water; nothing more than fantasy.

  As Flossy walked along the jetty she noticed the many moored fishing boats. They were painted in cheerful colours and looking well maintained.

  ‘You eat fish? Can’t they speak?’ she asked.

  Larry sniggered and Harry smiled like her father would when she asked a particularly silly question.

  ‘Fish can’t speak, Flossy. They’re just dumb beasts. What do you think a civilized carnivore would eat if not fish? No, without fish there would be no peaceful corporation between herbivore and carnivore. That is, between meat-eating animals and plant-eating animals. We’d return to the dark ages of predator and prey, where the strong ate the weak.’

  They walked past a ship resting low in the water, the only ship; the rest being boats. Happy Trader was written in big golden letters on her prow. The carved and beautifully painted masthead depicted a mermaid holding a golden turtle.

  ‘What about pets? Do you keep them?’ Flossy asked.

  ‘Pets?’

  ‘You know: animals you own, like birds you keep in a cage, or dogs on a leash.’

  Harry stopped and looked at Flossy, appalled.

  ‘Slavery hasn’t been practiced in this part of the world for centuries. Do humans still keep slaves?’

  ‘Ah, no, no we don’t,’ said Flossy, flustered. She thought it best not to mention that many humans kept pets.

  Harry continued along the jetty, Flossy jogging to catch up.

  ‘Port Isabel is a testament to how sensible animals of different Houses can live together in harmony; intelligent beasts, of all species, living and working together without prejudice or fear for the betterment of all,’ Harry said.

  Flossy felt the force of Harry’s convictions. He was obviously proud of his town and what it had accomplished.

  ‘Have you always lived here?’ she asked.

  ‘No. I grew up in the Treehaven, a few days walk of Port Isabel. My kind lives in tree houses and sleeps during the day—possums are nocturnal, you see. I moved here to become a shipwright; to build ships for a living. Now I mostly live out of town at a place called Thompsons Creek.’

  At the end of the short jetty a quay ran left and right along the steep rocky shore of the bay. Wooden work sheds, most with closed doors, opened onto the quay. They turned right and were walking past one when two pigs emerged tail first. They were using their mouths to pull a heavy cart loaded with tools. The effort pushed their heads down and their fat bottoms up, curly tails wiggling. A candle lantern gave them only enough light to see a short distance.

  One of the pigs turned sharply and stared at Flossy in horror.

  ‘Eeee-eee. Pirates!’ it squealed abandoning the cart and bolting up the quay into the swirling fog.

  The second pig chased it, also squealing.

  ‘Wait up! We aren’t pirates!’ Harry yelled after them. ‘It’s me, Harry Possum.’

  The pigs didn’t stop. They didn’t look back. Flossy could hear squealing and clattering trotters long after she lost sight of them in the fog.

  Harry reached out and took her hand in his paw. ‘A small damp human was clearly more than those two courageous pigs could bear,’ he said, smiling.

  Larry sniggered.

  Flossy inspected herself. Yes, indeed she did look like a pirate. ‘I have no other clothes. Are these a problem?’

  ‘It’s the wearing of clothes that’s the problem, I should think, not the style. We have no need of them, you see.’ He pulled at his short fur. ‘People fear what they don’t understand. I think you just surprised them, that’s all. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Most people have to live with strangers for a while before they feel safe.’

  Flossy nodded. Problem or not, she would keep her clothes. It would be terribly embarrassing to walk about without clothing, even if she was covered with fur.

  It was pitch-black and the fog reduced visibility to only a few yards. They walked along the quay past more work sheds that looked just like the sheds she remembered from childhood. One had been painted in bright colours but the paint was faded and peeling. The animals in Port Isabel built the same way as humans.

  At the end of the quay was an old gateway. Two wide columns of stone rose high above. A curving lintel resting on the columns was engraved with an inscription written old-style, but in Latin. In the darkness she read ‘Safety in Numbers.’ On each side of the inscription was an emblem: an oval shield encompassing the image of an owl above and waves below.

  Harry explained: ‘It was made long ago by the owls. They built Port Isabel. It’s a reminder that if we stick together we’ll be safe. There’s an inscription on the other side too.’

  They passed under the lintel onto a well-worn cobblestone street, deep gutters either side. She looked back and read out loud: ‘Curiosity didn’t act alone when it killed the cat.’

  ‘Strange phrase,’ said Harry. ‘Stranger still, was their sense of humour, so they say. I don’t know what the owls meant. When that was put there, Port Isabel was a monospecies town. It was built by the House of Owl and only owls lived here at that time, you see? There were no cats here to be curious or killed as far as anyone knows. In those days, cats and birds didn’t get along at all. There are no stories abou
t a curious cat getting killed here, neither are there any about curiosity having an accomplice. So the reason that was engraved is a mystery. There’s no end of speculation, though.’

  ‘Where I come from, curiosity killed the cat is an expression that means: don’t be too curious or you’ll get yourself in trouble. If you stick your nose into things too often you’re likely to lose it. That if you play with fire you’ll get burnt, that kind of thing. But I’ve never heard the bit about someone helping curiosity do the killing,’ said Flossy.

  ‘Really? So it has nothing to do with cats?’

  ‘Only that cats were said to be overly curious and therefore got in trouble so don’t be like them or you’ll get into trouble too. We don’t have cats in Australia anymore, so I can’t be sure.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Well, we do have cats here but they aren’t known for being curious, at least not the ones I know. They mostly just loaf around looking for bright spots of sunshine to lie in.’ Harry laughed and rubbed his paws together. ‘I could use some sunshine, or a warm fire. It’s getting cold isn’t it?’

  Flossy nodded. Her clothes were damp and she was cold but because she didn’t want to trouble her hosts she hadn’t complained.

  ‘Let’s find somewhere to warm up. The Stinging Nettle should still be open, unless the pirates have scared everyone off,’ said Harry, laughing cheerfully.

  Flossy frowned.

  ‘Ha! It’s just a café. You thought it was some kind of stinging plant didn’t you? And that we meant to throw you in?’ Harry said, grinning.

  ‘No, I…’

  Harry bumped into her affectionately. His fur was soft and the tips of his ears only reached her shoulders. He said: ‘It has an open fire and giant mugs of hot chocolate, the best in Port Isabel.’

  ‘Perfect!’ said Flossy, brightly.

  They followed a road that rose steadily as it switched back and forth up the hillside from the quay. Little bridges extended across deep gutters from gaily painted doors with brass knockers. They were all different sizes; some easily large enough for an elephant to pass through, others so small she’d have to duck. That was a difference. Humans and the doors they made were all the same size.

  Without warning, Larry ran ahead. She quickly lost to sight of him in the swirling fog.

  ‘Larry!’ called Harry. He turned to Flossy. ‘That monkey marches to the beat of his own drum.’

  ‘Can’t he speak?’ she asked. Flossy heard the urgent tolling of a bell. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘The alarm bell. Second time today, as it happens.’ He looked back down the hill. ‘Perhaps some of the pirates followed us in.’

  Flossy turned too. She could no longer see the work sheds below. It was too dark and the thick fog had closed in behind them.

  ‘There is no way they followed us in. The Interloper was stuck fast on Kidney Reef, and she was hulled. You saw how she was listing to one side. There’s no way they could have got her free and repaired her so quickly. And she couldn’t have outrun the Windrush. That little skiff was built for speed.’

  ‘I guess not. But what else could it be? They don’t just ring the bell for anything. There has to be some grave threat,’ said Harry.

  They walked past a shop with a large glass window displaying rope and other things used by sailors. The buildings either side of the road were tall and cast deep shadows. The fog not only blocked any starlight but muffled noise as well, as if a blanket had been laid over the town. The bell had stopped ringing and was replaced by the hollow sound of growls, grunts and squawks not far ahead. She thought she could also hear hooves and claws slipping on wet cobblestones.

  ‘Something’s definitely up,’ said Harry. He sounded worried.

  A family of zebras thundered past with a clatter of hooves, the youngest narrowly missing Flossy. She caught a glimpse of fear in its dark eyes.

  ‘Hey, wait up!’ called out Harry. But the zebras didn’t stop.

  Flossy re-sheathed her sword. She had the well-trained habit of drawing it when surprised. She did it without even thinking, like a reflex. She had recovered her sword from Pirate Pratt’s cabin on her way out the window. The sword had a razor-sharp blade and its linen-bound hilt was made for human-shaped hands.

  The alarm bell began ringing again, louder now that they were closer.

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing, Flossy. They’re a nervous bunch really; probably just calling another town meeting to reassure everyone. We’ll head up to the Square and see what’s going on. It’s not far. Larry’s probably there by now.’

  Flossy thought he didn’t sound very sure.

  The sound of chattering animals grew louder as they reached the next switchback in the road. Ahead, Flossy could see fire brands glowing in the fog and the dark forms of animals blocking the way. Stone houses lined both sides of the road so that the only way out was back down the hill.

  It was a trap!

  Flossy stepped in front of Harry, half drawing her sword. ‘Show yourselves, cowards!’ she commanded in her most fearsome voice.

  An enormous lion appeared out of the shadows, muscles rippling. It towered over her.

  True to her training Flossy stood her ground and did not shrink away.

  The lion issued a deafening roar and flashed its teeth as it pawed the slippery cobblestones.

  Flossy made ready to strike at the lion’s heart, grim resolve hardening her countenance.

  The lion roared again then yelled: ‘Now, everyone!’