19 The Offer

Spade was mildly terrifying, and Serenica felt uneasy accepting even small favors from him. It felt like making a deal with the fair folk of the forest, there would be a catch, Serenica was sure of it.

Still, he made sure they all had something to drink. He even ordered a plate of fish for her, for which she was grateful.

"You must have a weapon with you, young lady," Spade said and took a sip of wine. "This is good. It's really good."

"The wine is tasty," Serenica said, trying to refrain from admitting that she did indeed have a loaded gun tucked inside her pants.

"No, I was talking about the fact that you are armed. It's good to associate with people who are sensible about firearms."

"I couldn't have threatened Swordly with a scalpel," Serenica said sheepishly. "It's far too easy to wrestle a knife away."

"No, don't be so humble about it. Nobody has, to my knowledge, ever put that wretch at gunpoint. You're starting off so strong."

A peculiar silence followed.

"This is Surmica," Gadfly said. "She's a healer. Good enough to pass as a doc."

"Serenica," Serenica corrected. "Serenica Ingram. Gadfly got the rest of it right."

"A healer and a robber?"

"A healer, a robber, and a murderer," Serenica said.

"A murderer, too. Pity it wasn't Swordly, apparently."

"No, I let him live. Should he be dead?"

"Keeps whining about the materials," Spade grunted. "I don't want to feel cool and airy. Neul is so damn cold. I need wool, not silk."

Serenica was puzzled. Especially now the air was suffocating her and her armpits were wet enough to be considered bodies of water.

"We need a healer," Gadfly said, and his bravery seemed to be surfacing again. "It's a fact."

"No, Gadfly, that is an opinion. We need money. That's a fact. Now, whether a healer will save us money, that is a question."

Gadfly sank his head between his shoulders.

"I don't get paid well," Serenica said and shot a nasty look at Gadfly. "It'll be hard for you people to give me an offer that would disappoint me, financially speaking."

"Who's talked about offering anything?" Spade asked, smiling ever so slightly, and leaned towards Serenica. His right sleeve shifted, revealing a tattoo that was obviously chosen after his name. A spade.

Serenica made a mental note of it. Apparently pirates were every bit as dramatic as she had always thought.

"I must make myself interesting for the Captain, then," Serenica said, catching the obvious double meaning in her own words too late.

"You already are. Make yourself worthy. Then we'll talk."

Serenica analyzed Spade, his complexion, his build, his breathing. It was obvious the man suffered from a smoker's cough. Heart problems, too, and perhaps there was something yet to come. She had long ago learned to see a person's pulse through their skin. She could tell there were lots of things wrong with the man.

"Give me your hand," she said. "I am no scryer, but I know a few things."

Spade didn't roll his eyes as people usually did after such requests. He simply gave his palm and fingers for Serenica to examine.

They were cold.

Serenica felt a heartbeat, quite slow for one who apparently had problems with circulation and preferred greasy food and the joys of alcohol, but she felt something else, too, when she concentrated hard on bringing out everything wrong with Spade's health.

She felt something wriggle just beneath the surface of his veins.

What that meant, she did not know.

She cleared her throat.

"It's clear to me that your lungs are as full of tar as your veins are full of obstructive entities. It's not lethal in the short run, not yet, but if I were you, Captain, I'd think twice about my bad habits. It must wear you down. Make you tired. Slow you down, even. And I don't want to say this as a death sentence. Most of my patients are in a similar shape. I hope you understand."

Spade withdrew his hand, for he had just received a tankard of something that Serenica hoped would not be rum.

"At the very least you're not blind. But – you know what – I have to ask the rest of my men."

"And by that, Cap'n means his woman," Gadfly said.

"Of course. She knows what is best for us."

Serenica felt curious about the wriggling things in the captain's veins, she felt curious about the woman whose opinion mattered to the most feared pirate of all times, and she especially felt curious about the identities of the second and third most feared pirates.

They drank what they had and left.

"See, I'm not against getting a healer," Spade said on the way towards Oathbreaker's Cove.

The cove was an area a few miles from Neul to the east. It had formerly had some military significance. Nowadays it had been conquered back by the subtropical jungle and Serenica had not ever thought about what a good place to anchor it probably was for those who wanted to sail in secret. Of course Spade wouldn't leave the Princess just anywhere.

"You are, though, Cap'n," Gadfly commented. "Every single one of them I've brought with me, every single one you've hated."

"I can't just let anyone near my men. But I digress. There's plenty of benefits to having a healer on board. One is that they don't whine and complain as much as doctors do. Another is that they will accept lower pay and measly benefits."

Serenica apparently looked horrified after hearing this, as the captain laughed at her and hit her with a branch. It wasn't a heavy one, and Serenica thought this was more like hazing than actual violence. Spade was trying to make her personal space his own. He was walking ahead of her and kept stopping abruptly, making her almost bump into him.

"Oh, no, Ingram, I am joking. I am pulling your leg. We'll talk about your pay later, but I'd say a share and a fourth will suffice. Is that all right? It's a lot, and the exact same amount we'd pay a doctor."

"Have you ever had a doctor on board?" Serenica asked.

"That's how I know they're horrible in general. I prefer the company of witches," Spade said, turned around once again and winked. "Much less complaints."