Read The Merman and the Barbarian Pirate for Free Online Page A

cheered him more than he felt it ought. As a merman, he ate chiefly raw fish and seaweed. The way these humans heated food brought out wonderful, subtle flavors. Over the past few weeks, he'd tried some scraps left near the fishermen's cottages, which was as far as he'd dared creep inland. He’d had nothing as good as these cooked delicacies.
    Kemp rummaged about in a corner and then presented him with a pair of ragged trousers and a loose shirt, which he draped across his lap while he used his crust to mop his platter. Opposite him, Kemp leaned against a wooden post with his arms folded. He regarded Raef intently as ever, 'til Raef felt as a herring must when under the beady eye of a gull.
    "You can make yourself useful 'til we let you go," said Kemp. "The Alice O'Shanty is short of crew and we could do with a cabin boy. Ever scrubbed a deck?"
    "Never scrubbed anything in my life," answered Raef, maybe a little too quickly. He sucked the traces of butter from his fingers.
    "By Salamon, what did you do for Haverford?" Kemp offered a throaty snicker. "I'm taking it you weren't schooled as an assassin."
    "A what?"
    A shout from deck came to Raef's rescue. Kemp went off to see what the commotion was, though not before broadsiding Raef with a final questioning glare and a barked instruction. "Get dressed, lad. You'll catch your death."
    Catch his death? Raef hadn't a notion what that meant either. It sounded like a threat. Either way, he figured he'd do what Kemp requested. He was fed up of being stared at. Seeing as humans tended to wear clothes, maybe if he got dressed they'd stop gawping. It would be easier to slip away then, too. He stepped into the trousers, which reached just below his knees, then spent some time fiddling with the strings that served for a belt. Unable to secure them, he gave up and wrestled his way into the shirt. This had cords too, dangling from the open flaps at the collar. Before he could fathom what they were for, Peffy's bulky frame came clunking down the ladder.
    Peffy grinned. He had several gaps in his mouth and his remaining teeth were brown, nothing like Kemp's pearly gnashers. "Ready to get scrubbing?" he asked.
    Raef nodded and followed, bunching his trousers at the waist to keep them falling. His shirt hung open. When they reached the deck, the breeze hit him and set the fabric flapping. It felt twice as drafty as having no clothes at all. The morning was duller than yesterday, the clouds a milky white, and as Kemp had warned him, there was no sight of the shore. He'd certainly have to wait 'til sundown for a safe chance to make a break for it. Swimming around the headland the previous night had stretched his human body to its limit. If he dived in before he was able to shift back to his swifter, stronger mer form, the pirates would most likely drag him back to the ship. Or he'd drown before he found land.
    Peffy pointed to a mop, a bucket, and a yellowish stone. "Use the holystone first. I want every inch of this deck lathed, not a speck of dust or tar remaining. Then swab it down with the mop."
    Still gripping his gaping trousers with one hand, Raef picked up the stone and looked at it.
    "What's with you, boy?" demanded Peffy. "You act like you've lived under a stone all your life. Are you a pixie of the wilds or just the village noodle?" As Raef opened his mouth to protest, Peffy snatched the stone then began to rub the planks with it. "Like this. Now get on with it. Every inch, I say, and no slacking."
    Peffy handed the stone to Raef, who obeyed. Once on his knees, he didn't need to worry so much about keeping his trousers from descending. Still, they slipped to expose the top of his arse to the wind and the salt spray, which stung buttocks sore from a night on splintered boards. He felt stronger now he'd breakfasted, though he didn't enjoy the work. Scouring was monotonous and made his wrist, back, and elbows ache. So he cheered himself by musing on the delight he'd bring to Lord