Mei

All was relatively quiet. Yet misfortune could come from any direction at any time.

Mei’s eyes and ears were tuned for trouble as the group slunk between a few houses, each painted either white or a bright pastel colour. They pulled up in an alley between a pink grocer and a sky-blue butcher shop that smelled of blood. A set of metal stairs led up to the flat roof of the grocer.

Mei warily tested the stairs. When they didn’t creak, she climbed up onto the roof, hearing Lia stealthily follow. Staying low in the center of the space, she surveyed the town around her and listened to the others follow her up.

Speightstown might have been the most important economic port on Barbados, but it wasn’t an overly large community. With the agricultural economy being very labour intensive, most Barbadians and prisoners were spread out amongst the plantations and fishing hamlets.

Still, there were many warehouses, shops, and factories. People might live and work throughout the island, but they would come here to shop and resupply, to buy or repair tools and to seek entertainment. While rich landowners resided on their plantations, merchants lived alongside their own businesses in town.

In odd contrast to modern urban areas, there were no streetlights here and the town was very quiet, practically dead at this time of night. Looking up, it was a surprise to still be able to see the stars above, something one never could, even in small towns in the real world.

Armand came to squat beside her.

“What do you think?” she asked him, looking for potential targets.

He, too, scanned Speightstown, eyes narrowed. Out of the four men she’d met, she naturally felt inclined to trust his opinions the most. His calm presence and logical mind gave him a maturity and sense of experience that appealed to her.

“One of those grand mansions?” She indicated one of the several very rich estates closer to the center of town.

The houses were two and three-story behemoths similar to the main hall back on the plantation. Each probably housed not only a family but also a dozen servants and would still have plenty of rooms to spare. Each had a greenspace around it filled with flowers and trees and even fountains.

Oddly, right across the street from some and in view of many other mansions, there were plenty of regular homes and dozens of run-down hovels and rough apartments. The town was too young to have separated into wealth-based districts yet and so it was a mishmash of ultra rich and commoner, homes next door to businesses and factories.

Lance approached from behind and surprised her with an insightful answer before Armand could reply. “Not the mansions. You’re just gonna upset a bunch of wealthy merchants and plantation owners. It’s not what Spanish agents would attack. Spies would target something military or economic, something the government would want to protect.” His eyes roamed, then stopped. He pointed. “There.”

Mei followed his gaze and saw a very large stone-and-canvas windmill standing on the edge of town, a giant cyclopean sentinel watching over the place. A mischievous twist took over her lips. “Good. We light that on fire, it should get everyone’s attention, right?” She caught sight of Lia.

The young woman kneeled on the edge of the roof, eyes wide and mouth open as she studied the strange world around her. It might have been the first time she’d ever seen such large buildings and such a huge community. Carib tribes probably each held only one or two hundred people, at most. Speightstown was probably home to a thousand people.

Mei held back a laugh and recalled the first couple of times that she’d gone overseas to different countries and cultures. Like the time spent studying in Canada. Everything had been fascinating simply for its difference those first few months. And when she’d returned to Asia, Mei had found herself with a much wider perspective of the world and of her own people and places.

She was incredibly grateful for that experience and wondered if going after the same had been Lia’s intention as well.

For some of us, just being in the world that we are born into isn’t enough. We wonder if there is more to life and better ways to live. So we study other cultures and other people to gain better understandings of ourselves and of the many ways in which life can be lived. We can then compare these differences against our own ways of living and then seek to improve them.

Joining the wannabe pirates on their crazy gamble for freedom had been something Mei had protested, only guiltily relenting at Lia’s own strong instance, perhaps empathizing because she saw her own spirit mirrored in the younger woman. Mei promised herself that she’d protect Lia and give her the chance to grow. Though her guilt returned because she knew that she had precious little ability to make good on that promise right now.

Destination chosen, they returned to the streets, where Jie had been waiting for them. Darting from one shadow to another, they dodged late-night drunks who were stumbling home, a military patrol of red coats who eyed everyone with distrust, even a horse that had gotten loose and was wandering on its own.

Several grand warehouses stood on a main street that lead directly to the docks, the only street paved with stone. Sadly, the docks were empty of all but small fishing vessels, nothing any of them cared to risk on the open seas very far from shore.

Mei spoke with regret as she stood on the cobblestone and wistfully looked at the docks. “Too bad we can’t wait around for a merchant ship to show up,”

“It’s a race against time.” Armand patted her on the back. “Let’s hurry.”

They followed the main street all the way to the windmill, which loomed above them larger with every step. The four, massive blades didn’t move as the night air was still. The stone building was cone shaped, wide at the base and narrow at the top. Three stories tall, it was part of a larger complex, with a long, low, rectangular building attached to the side.

A large, wooden door with an arched top sat in the base of the windmill. A guard stood next to it, alert, his rifle in his hands. Two more guards stood at attention on either side of the main doors to the rectangular building as well.

The companions hid in the lee of a warehouse on one side of the main street, just out of sight, and contemplated their next move.

To Mei’s continued surprise, Jie proved odd for a wild animal, quietly following along even through town. She seemed interested in many things, her eyes constantly roaming around her, her nose sniffing the strange scents. Why she seemed content to follow Mei around, she had no idea and she worried for the big cat’s safety.

“Should we circle around back?” Armand suggested.

“Only doors are in the front,” Lance told them. “And all the lower windows are barred.”

Mei’s stomach fell. “Too bad. That means we have to find a way past this guard. And without the other two noticing us.”

Lance peeked around the corner of the building, then popped his head back. “It’s all open ground in front. If we charge him from any angle, he’ll call out or shoot. That’ll bring the others.”

Lia looked around at the three of them, confused. She, too, peeked around the corner. Then she pulled back and pointed with one hand while holding up her blowgun in the other, puffing up her chest like a man.

Mei lightly laughed at the young woman’s audacity. “Umm…” She tried to think, then drew a finger across her throat. “Stop him. But…” She puffed up her own chest, held up two fingers, then pointed farther down. “Two more, close.”

Lia checked the front of the mill again. She held up her blowpipe and mimed blowing it three times.

Lance’s brows rose in doubt. “Really? From here? It’s far.” The distance had to be twenty metres.

Lia tapped her chest and nodded, then mimed the pipe again.

The two men looked at Mei.

She bit her lip in indecision. But seeing the eager but confident look on the Carib woman’s face, she gave in. “Ok. Try.” She nodded and pointed.

Lia gave her a fierce smile and prepared herself.

“Guys, get ready to rush them if we need to,” Mei instructed the others. “Before they can sound an alarm.”

The men nodded, each giving the Carib woman skeptical looks. Tensions rose.

Lia pulled out four arrows and placed them on the ground in front of her. Unstoppering the gourd, she dipped three arrows into the sticky liquid inside. Lance and Armand both scooted further away at the sight of it and she silently laughed at their uneasiness.

With practiced expertise, she checked the ends of the blowpipe and blew it clear of any dust or debris, first empty, then using the arrow without poison on it. Seeing the arrow come out clean, she hummed in satisfaction. Then she loaded a poisoned arrow and gingerly placed herself at the corner of the building.

Lia planted both feet square on the ground and raised the pipe to her lips, her left arm outstretched before her to balance the long device. With a deep breath through her nose, she aimed and steadied, then exhaled.

The man on guard yelped.

Quick as a wink, she ducked back out of sight.

Everyone else flattened themselves to the building, hoping that nobody thought to search for them here.

“What’s going on?” an annoyed voice called.

There was a pause and some cursing. “I’m bloody well shot in the neck! Bleeding like a stuck pig!”

Footsteps jogged over.

“What the heck is that? Doesn’t look like any arrow I’ve ever seen.”

“Who shot it? Some kid with a miniature bow?”

Lia had wasted no time while the men gathered. As they grew increasingly concerned, she picked up the two remaining arrows and planted herself at the corner of the building again. Twice in quick succession, she puffed and two more men cried out in pain.

“What the—“

“Ah! I’m hit!”

The first voice shouted into the night. “I swear, if you’re some brat who thinks this is funny, I’ll tan your hide for this!”

“Sound the alarm,” one of the others suggested with concern. “Maybe this is an attack.”

“With big toothpicks? Really? Idiot. You think the sergent will think so too?”

“Well…”

“I need a doctor.”

“Guys…I’m nob feeshigud.”

“What?”

“Bime…” A thud as someone hit the ground.

“Currarrra!”

“Hehh—“

They heard the sound of two more bodies falling to the ground from paralysis.

Armand peeked. Grinning with a thumbs up at Lia, he darted out from cover. The others quickly followed. 

All three guards lay on the ground, staring and unable to move, breathing growing short.

Lance was stunned. “I can’t believe it. She’s a sniper!”

“Remarkable,” Armand breathed.

Lia looked thrilled and proud. She tapped Mei on the shoulder, jumping up and down like a little girl while she pointed at the prey she’d successfully taken down.

Mei hugged the woman’s shoulders, glad everything had turned out ok and astonished at the Carib’s skill. “Good girl!”

Lia beamed.

Lance stood over the bodies. “So that’s what I looked like when it happened to me. Yup, about as embarrassing as I thought it would be.”

“One of the most terrifying things I’ve ever experienced.” Mei shuddered. “I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

Lia clutched her stomach and silently laughed, making Mei chuckle along with her. Fierce little warrior girl.

Digging the door keys out of the pockets of one of the guards, they let themselves into the main door at the base of the windmill and dragged the bodies inside and out of sight.

Jie sniffed at the door but elected to remain outside and Mei had to hope the animal would go unnoticed and unharmed until they returned.

The mill’s interior was pitch black except for star- and moonlight coming through two square windows high above.

“Lance,” Mei nudged him, “light that lantern again.”

He fiddled with the lantern that he’d taken from the plantation that now hung at his waist.

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were yew,” an English voice growled from out of the darkness.

Everyone jumped and whirled in all directions, trying to locate the source of the voice.

Mei felt a shiver crawl up her spine and began to panic. They’d been discovered!

A tiny sliver of orange light appeared ahead of them and then grew, illuminating a glass-shielded lantern and a man in prison uniform,  sitting chained to the floor.

He was a very big man, bigger than Juan. But where Juan was toned and had the body of a man in his prime, this old prisoner’s muscular bulk was covered with a layer of fat. A large belly stretched his shirt out, probably a product of age and a slower lifestyle. His white hair and bushy, gray beard, the lines around his eyes and his wrinkled hands indicated a man in his sixties. He bore a surprising resemblance to an incarcerated Santa Claus.

The aged prisoner eyed them from where he sat on the stone floor. “Now, yew lo’ are dressed like soldiers, most of yew. But something tells me yew ain’t.” Eyes glinted from the shadows and a hint of crooked teeth caught the light.