Montaine’s eyes widened once more as a new fear gripped him. He was a bad pirate! Of course he was! One would simply have to look at those terrible tattooes to see that! That one there that curled so serpentine was obviously from some evil Dhani ritual that he’d undertaken to get initiated into a cult of dark wizards so he could more easily paralyze his prey. And that one, the one that looked kind of like a shark if you squinted and turned you head to one side and covered up the bottom bit with your hand, was so obviously from when he’d killed an Akvatari maiden with a horde of evil soldiers and felt the need to celebrate! And now he was going to eat him! He was going to cook him in a big pot and it didn’t matter how he tasted because he would just stuff him full of seaweed and salt like the man at the stall had done and hide the bland flavour! There was no way he’d get out of this, no way, he was going to be eaten and that was that. Just look at those teeth. Those were the teeth of a cannibal and no mistake. What about his Da? He’d just go missing, into the stomach of some horrible, mean, stinking pirate and Da’d never even know it! Then his poor Da’d have to live all alone in this city that wasn’t even his home and without mother and without him. All his life he was afraid of upsetting his Da with his sickness, all his life he was afraid that his illness would make him too weak, and he would die just like mother. There must be something he could do, some way out of this terrible, terrible situation! Monty clutched his little clay cup tightly in his hand. He thought back to his father’s tales of fearsome buccaneers and realised something. In all those stories of scallywags and brigands they always threatened each other first. This pirate, this man, didn’t even have a sword drawn! Well, he could talk with the best of them! Montaine scowled and puffed up his chest, ‘Yeah? Well-well maybe I’m a-hungerin’ too, ‘cause I’m such a scrawny land rat, and-and I think you’re all talk, Mister Pirate, ‘cause my Da’s a real warrior and I-we eat dirty pirates like you for dinner!’ The boy took a step towards the sailor and jabbed an accusing finger in his direction, ‘So you just try and eat me!’ The young boy stood in the alleyway, his mother’s defiance shining in his father’s steel blue eyes, daring the man to make good on his threats. |