No matter how many hot baths, abundant meals, or polite bows, Macha was certain he was a prisoner. Uri’s ‘blood sisters’ didn’t leave his side for a moment -a tight surveillance disguised as cordiality- and politeness of the rest of sailors was all part of a masquerade to hide their true intentions, opinions and even feelings.

When the sails lowered and the anchor dropped, nothing changed, and Macha received the same treatment as on the high seas but, being closer to the aid his people needed, and a feeling of being so far from getting it, the helplessness grew even worse than the days at the lighthouse.

“Where is Uri?” Macha asked, scanning the port of an island he didn’t know the name of.

“Before, also you question.” Ammo answered after an obvious huff of frustration. “I say top of hill, mansion of Uwe-Son. I say she come back: I talk. She not come, I quiet, but Naru make question many times.”

Macha readjusted his new unlined hemp jacket. The outfit they had forced him to wear was of a straight-cut design and simple button closures, and no matter how many times Ammo would tell, it was not at all as comfortable as he believed. “You also said today was the day Otoke was going to receive me, and the sun is already approaching the horizon.”

“All fleet captains Uwe-Son and Otoke-Dan go ceremony wedding oath: Very, very important,” Ammo said. “Night come, pigeon no worry. Otoke-Dan no sleep until meet you. Uri work hard delay wedding. Otoke go war first. Success? Uri happy, I happy, we all celebrate!”

While Ammo and the blood sisters remained tight-lipped about the intricacies of their affairs, Macha’s observations unravelled the mystery behind Uri’s strong interest in bringing the Blue Kingdom troubles to their door. Her secret desire, to stop the union between her Master and Uwe’s. The reason, though, was still a mystery to him, but knowing the poor reputation of the Pirate finger, it was possibly mistrust. It was a legitimate concern some of her sailors shared as well, but as Macha glanced around the numerous revellers on the nearby decks, it became apparent that not everyone had the same opinion.

The bay that served as a breakwater was incredibly wide, and yet, the large number of ships anchored to join the celebration had turned the natural port into a carpet of wood instead of water. The dozens of ships, most of them from the Otoke’s fleet, were crowded together in a large block, where only ramps were enough to turn the decks into a large room where pirates from both sides let themselves be carried away in a frenzy of joy. Only Uri’s White Fox was docked way far from the shouts and songs, resting peacefully in one of the few secluded docks in the entire shore.

Tiko appeared trotting between the port warehouses and Ammo hurried up the ramp. When Macha caught up with him at the dock, the blood sister was already waiting with her always polite stance and, wearing a long tight dress with wooden slippers, made Macha wonder how she managed to reach so fast. The girl spoke the language of her people in a soft and content tone which still managed to unease all the sailors gathering around. The conversation amongst them, initially gentle, turned into an aggressive back and forth when one of the foreman, a man who answered to the name of Achitare, took command of the situation. Ammo sputtered words of rage and lowered his face when the foreman began a yelling towards the crew. The sailors of the White Fox quickly split into groups, the largest led by Achitare, rushing uphill without delay and the others disappearing through the port buildings.

“What’s going on?” Macha said.

Ammo only answered with a clench of his jaw while Tikko dragged her wooden sandals closer. “Something not good.” She said, “Formalities too long, Uwe men strange doings. Captain Tamokori suspicious.”

“Then, let’s go!” Macha said, pulling the shirt of an immovable Ammo.

“Anjin Achitare command he and I stay.” Tikko spoke as if those words were extremely painful to get out. ”Is shame, but duty care of Naru more important.”

Macha fidgeted, unconsciously palpating his chest in search of a waist holster he didn’t wear since boarding the Fox. The rushing doubt lasted a little, and with a lightning bolt of courage hitting out of a sudden, Macha stepped forward without looking back. “Achitare didn’t order me to stay. Did he? I have come to remind you of an oath made long ago. We are all bound by an alliance, and my duty is to help if necessary. I’m going to see what’s going on, and you have to be sure I’m doing it safely!”

Tikko’s sandals clinked rapidly behind. “No, Naru! Not work this way. Stay!” Her words, which sounded more like a plea, alerted two of the few remaining sailors and both rushed to get in Macha’s way. “Let me pass!” he said.

The two, for an instant committed to stopping him, stared in shock when Ammo’s big, calloused hand rested over Macha’s shoulder. “You brave, pigeon. I like.”

The ship’s guard went from a dozen to just two, and those who decided to follow Ammo uphill hurried to grab spears and curved two handed blades, which were each impressively well crafted in unique, different ways. Macha was entrusted with one with a wooden red scabbard, a handle wrapped in a white cord, and a strange round guard separating both. A mesmerising beauty he had no idea how to use. “I'd rather prefer my fire gun, boys.”

Tikko, who overtook everyone with her troublesome footwear, turned around nervously. “Pistol Naru hands of Uri. Hurry!”

Ammo patted Macha’s shoulder, and reprising their way, they soon reached the first of the gates.

The island was a mountain covered in an unnatural red-leaf forest with no remnants of civil construction, and the only thing made by the hands of men were sturdy hardwood gates surrounded by a solid wall and two side towers of similar build. Each of the gates, located at a certain distance between each other, divided the road into equal parts, and at each court, there were simple barracks where there were supposed to be guards. All were empty though, and the run to the top took as fast as their lungs could handle. It was not until they arrived at the last of the doors, all gasping puffs of steam, they found the first signs of a skirmish. A couple of his men and a dozen of Uwe’s were dead on the road. Seeing the bodies, Macha felt a pang in his stomach and without taking a break after the arduous climb, he reprised the tight pace which Ammo urged his companions.

Arriving at the top, Uwe’s palace rose majestically through the subtle mist. The complex was made of houses of treated red wood and dark tiled pointy roofs and the walls were of a soft material transparent enough to allow the sight of shadows fighting inside.

In front of the main entrance, Achitare and the others were engaged with another group of men covered in a black shell of bamboo plates, giving them much more advantage than the simple shirts. The people of Jo fought with determination but with much less shouting than southerners used to make, and the strange silence of the battle ahead was broken only by the clashing of metal and the cries of those who were killed.

Ammo drew his sword at the same time one of his subordinates shouted from the rear. The sailor’s finger guided everyone’s gaze towards the distant view of the shore . The fleet of ships, a place that moments before had been a point of concord and celebration, was now a grand ball of fire shining brightly from side to side of the bay.

Ammo yelled certain orders to Tikko and she promptly unsheathe a hidden blade from her small wooden stick. She nodded reluctantly and her hand reached for Macha’s arm. He pulled away and stepped forward without having the time to see Ammo’s enormous fist reaching to his stomach. The white blade with a red scabbard dropped on the floor, and Macha knelt, curling up into a ball to contain the pain. Out of breath and with moist eyes, he could only be a witness of the Fox crew rushing into battle and, soon after, watch helplessly how no one of them reached even half of their destination.

With a great thunder, the side of the forest filled with an enormous cloud of smoke and every one of Ammo’s men fell to the ground motionless. Tikko tugged on Macha’s shirt, urging him to get up. “trap, trap! We go!”

With trembling legs, Macha raised in time to see Ammo bolting on a floor bathed in blood and dragging with his powerful arms the rest of his unresponsive body. Further in the distance, Uwe’s swords lowered, and while spears tore through the fallen, the last of the blades bolted in the air to separate Achitare’s head from his body.

Tikko stopped Macha’s intention to help Ammo’s with a sudden pull. “No! We escape!” He wriggled to loosen her grip, but it was not the girl’s insistence what killed his desire to reach the injured man: It was a shot.

Tikko dropped to the ground, fingers still clutching on the shirt, slowly losing all their strength forever. Macha reached for the sword, but his instinct led him to pick up the blood sister’s dagger instead. Surrounded by the disturbing silence after the battle, Macha shyly crept towards an Ammo who was gathering his last power to get to the knees.

Uwe’s men clustered around, ready to engage but deprived of doing so. From the side, where the treacherous platoon had covertly shot Ammo’s men, others appeared, although none of them were from Jo. This new group, armed and dressed in more southern attire, was a mixture of nations, and Macha didn’t take long to locate over their skins the many lizards tattooed all over.

“Look at that, boys! Our favourite brother has returned to us,” said a familiar voice from behind, unleashing a throaty chuckle Macha had craved to forget for a long time. “How come you always manage to be at all our best parties, kiddo?”

When Macha raised the dagger, Broccoli stopped dead, with a wide smile no one with fear in heart could have. Beside him, Billy giggled his fat at the sound of his own hideous cackle. “Rats always find their way to the ship’s pantry.” Said the round Gecko.

With his stomach still burning from Ammo’s punch, Macha wasted no time and charged forward. His aim, to strike Broccoli. His true adversary: Billy, who banked quickly to cut him off. Macha slashed from the side with a wide move aimed at the neck. An accurate attack quickly dodged with a step back. The legs of the buccaneer, even having to support the heavy load of an enormous body, were nibbled, and the subsequent moves from Macha’s weapon only cut the air. After a scream of uncontained anger, Macha’s arm struck towards the heart, only to receive a lateral blow to the forearm, sending Tikko’s dagger into the air and, a low kick to the leg, sending him to the ground.

Without losing sight of Billy, Macha rose to continue his battle unarmed. His fist, full of rage, shot towards a nose the buccaneer was quick to lower. Upon hitting the forehead, Macha’s hand cracked and the stinging pain in his wrist turned into an electrifying stab that ran through the entire arm. His focus turned involuntarily towards his damaged limp, leaving him at the mercy of another enormous arm swinging from the side towards his head.

Stunned and with a deep whistle piercing his ears, Macha wriggled on the familiar ground to get away from danger. His blurred mind, still very well aware he was defeated and, once more, at the Parni gang’s mercy.

“Brock!” Ammo shouted a few steps away. “Fight I. you traitor!”

Old flintlock in hand, Broccoli approached the Uri’s warrior cautiously, standing at a close but safe distance. Slowly, the Gecko detached the ramrod of his pistol to clean the muzzle.

“Once, you sail under same flag as I,” Ammo stammered between gasps. “You know ways of I.”

“I do,” Broccoli said without taking his eyes off the gun.

“Shame is dead by powder, give I dead by iron. Let I die with honor.” Ammo coughed, staining his chin in red. “Come Brock. Remember Barricada? You own I.”

Diligently, Brock put a powder bag, a lead bullet, and a small piece of paper inside the barrel and pressed them to the bottom. “I remember,” he said right after.

Ammo shook his head and squeezed a sopping belly. “William… give I no weapon. You use long spear. You safe, I swear. I beg you.”

Brock cocked the gun, raised his arm and, without further ado, shot Ammo through the head. After putting the smoking gun on his belt, he turned towards the local pirates. “Report!”

One of Uwe’s men approached with an air of arrogance while one of the buckos rushed out from the buildings with hesitation. “Guess houses clean. Port clean.” The Jon pirate said.

“Boss,” mumbled the Gecko. “Vinsen team is all down. She may have not drunk the tea like the others.”

After a long, uncomfortable wait with rude fighters staring at a man massaging his temples, Brock spoke. “I’m sure she did. She’s out there, weak, but still dangerous. Net search with sight distances. If you spot her, do not engage but call for aid. Bring me that woman alive!”

The Uwe pirate huffed and turned to his companions with a mocking grin."Lizard cannot handle dying little Jo girl!"

Broccoli brushed the sweat off his face and spit on the floor. “She’s not dying.” He said.

“What do we do with the ratty?” Billy asked, resting his boot and all his weight over Macha’s back, cracking loudly the spine joints.

“Just kill me already,” Macha mumbled from below. ”I’m tired of hearing your annoying voice.”

Brock crouched and gently removed the small pebbles stuck on Machas chick. “I’m afraid that can’t happen, Kiddo,” he breathed. “The Swan wants to kill you himself. But do not worry, aye? I’ll do my best to convince him to spare you.”

Macha struggled as much as he could to avoid the ropes, an attempt of pride and bravery which lasted briefly. “Why?” He said. “To enjoy the spectacle of me rotting at the Black Rock? How merciful you are, Veggie.”

Brock fixed on him with a penetrating gaze and sighed. “If that’s what you want to believe, be my guess.”

Tightened to the bones, Macha was lifted with a set of hands that left him nothing but to follow in the footsteps of the others, even with legs that did not want to move anymore.

“Billy,” Brock said. “I changed my mind. Go get the guys and end the search. She won’t be sick for much longer and I don’t want to lose more men. I’m certain Uwe and his mighty warriors can handle a little poisoned girl.”

Still shocked and confused by what had happened, Macha found hard to swallow the same day he started with a sweet hot bath and a hearty lunch was going to end with him in the cell of a Gecko’s ship.To his dismay, Broccoli brightened the mood with a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Come on, kiddo! Cheer up the hells, you’re going to meet a Queen!”