Swashbuckling Shorts

At the docks

The story of how Zaina met Dark. Also featured in the Sands of Time anthology.

My feet pounded against the stone of the weaving streets. Giggling with the newfound freedom, my eyes roamed all over the foreign world of the town. I read every shop sign, smiled at every passerby and peered with interest at every activity.

I heard her calling for me, my exasperated nanny, but I didn't listen to her pleas. Her voice grew dimmer and dimmer as I weaved through the throng of people. None of the adults going about their business paid much attention.

Feeling stealthy and invisible as an assassin under the cover of night, I darted, zigged and zagged. Every obstacle I hopped over or dodged by a hair's breadth was a welcome challenge I defeated with my natural born talents assured me that I was unstoppable.

The air smelled like salt and fish, which meant I was close to the docks. I had never seen the fishermen at work. I'd never caught a fish myself. I didn't like to eat them. With a sharp turn I cut off a man carrying a barrel on his back. He cussed angrily as I flew past.

The fish market was crowded, and I reluctantly slowed to a stealthier pace. The fishermen's wives, hawking their goods, cast me stares than ranged from curious to annoyed to indifferent. I kept clear of their wide frames and strong arms as they hacked off the heads and skinned the fresh-caught fish. A severed fish head landed on the ground near me, its huge, bulging yellow eyes looking into mine.

I shrieked with surprise and was smartly swatted by an apron string. "Shoo, gal! Get!"

Hopping out of sight, I squeezed into the space between two big crates of fish. Underneath the dock, the water sloshed and gurgled gently. Over my head, the fishermen called to each other, setting down their wares with dull, wooden thuds. I watched as they walked back and forth, fascinated by their work.

The crates and barrels and boxes they carried held untold treasures. Everything that came into the house where I lived came from the marketplace. My nanny had explained to my curious mind that the marketplace took most of their wares from the sea. After hearing this, and seeing all of the beautiful things that came in from the sea on the backs of sailors, I had become obsessed with seeing it for myself.

I entertained the idea that the fishermen at the dock were carrying precious and beautiful things from mysterious lands across the ocean, hiding them amongst the day's catch, before they could be sold and end up in homes like mine.

It was the thrill of discovery that had taken me. I wanted nothing more than to crack open the crates and find out what lay hidden inside. What undiscovered corners of the earth could be reached through the exotic artefacts that they brought?

Slipping from my hiding place, I wandered away from the hustle bustle until I reached a lone dock, jutting out into the water at an odd angle. It was older—worn and on the verge of falling—but a boy was perched on the very edge without a care, his feet skimming the surface and his fishing pole in hand.

I wondered if there were any fish this close to the dock. As I crept closer, he jerked on the line, catching a tiny, squirming little fish in his hand and dropping it into the bucket at his side.

"Ick," I said to myself, braving to venture out onto the dangerously slanted dock.

A creaky board announced my presence. My assassin-like stealth compromised, I met his gaze head on as he whipped around to see who was there.

His dark brows flattened as he took me in. "You're a girl," he said, cocking his head to the side. "I never see girls 'round here."

I walked up so I was right next to him. "Why not?" I asked curiously.