Now, Bastian was far from a weakling, no matter what Captain Roy Gorgo told everyone he met. Bastian was a resilient man with a hidden, yet fiery temper, and he knew exactly what he was about to do.
He pulled out the egg so that the hen looked at him with an expression of pure avian shock.
He crushed the egg under his heel.
Its rotten contents were spreading under his feet, but he felt calmer, like a tension in the air had suddenly released itself and dissolved into nothingness.
"Begone," he said calmly, but with such malice that he managed to scare a lone goat. "Begone, Roy, all of you, all of your magical aura and influence, I banish you in the names of all Books."
He did not know enough about the faith of the Circle, and therefore he didn't want to risk calling out to someone or something beyond his comprehension. But there was one thing he very much believed in. Books.
"That is much better," he said, lowering his voice as he heard the footsteps of two women coming closer. "Begone, and stay that way, Roy, you are not welcome here, and I will break your every seal to make sure you will never lay a finger on me or my chickens again."
It was a bit like an auditory hallucination. A chuckle, dark and deep, much like Roy's laughter, turned into the giggle of a woman, and then died out, but when Bastian looked at the ladies, both of them were looking gravely serious. However, the bad vibes in the space were completely gone, the echo had disappeared, and the opened hatch let in some much needed sunlight.
"Oh," said Melinda, carrying two different butcher knives. "I don't know how they got that way. Looks bad."
She landed the rest of the stairs down into the cattle space and the makeshift sleeping quarters with one single jump that truly displayed her agile, wiry strength. For someone with such a narrow build, Melinda could take control of any room with her fiercely powerful physical presence, loaded full of sheer athleticism.
Tilda followed, a bit overshadowed by her crewmate, as the blonde woman with her model-like body and long hair made the other look like a fun accessory.
"Poor things!" Melinda said, shaking her head. "I don't think we can do much about this, except to send them towards the Other Shore."
"They will rest now," Bastian said. "I will not take them up to the deck. We will just have to scrub the blood over here. It would get even worse if we made them panic even more."
The rest of the ordeal was not something Bastian would remember fondly, but as the women watched the animals going to sleep one final, violent time, their gazes and shared expressions spoke their own candid language. Bastian was, to them, a truly admirable and responsible leader despite being an obvious womanizer.
Everyone had a humanizing flaw. Or two. Or three, or seventy-five.
He didn't say anything about the cursed egg to anyone. Instead, he spent the rest of the day nodding off in a chair on the deck, with his hat covering his face so that none of the ladies could see how tired he was. Amanda, of course, was more than aware of this situation, but even the devilish wife refrained from teasing him that day. Supplies were running low, and they had to save anything they could save. Luckily, Amanda and Sammy made for an unbeatable team by now. Even with the obvious murderous personality of the former, they got along well, laughing together genuinely, and at some point they had braided their hair and put some dried wild flowers on their heads.
Bastian was considering his options for the next wife he would marry, but he also wanted the woman who would become the lucky second to crawl to him, begging for a taste like Amanda had done.
It was not easy. Sammy and Tilda were the obvious choices, but then again, Lia had to get her satisfaction somehow as well.
A pleasant problem to have, but still a problem - and once again, he began to question his own judgment about being too predictable with the ladies. Perhaps he should show them all that a woman could be picked from a group that had basically no strategic significance. Kind of a rags to riches story. One that would make them all feel like they could be something great one day, too. Eventually, Bastian thought that he should marry and bed every last one of viable women who were willing, but he had to work his way up to that. Nothing good comes easy, he thought, smugly, thinking also about how wise and humble he truly was.
Then, realizing that he was indeed being a bit insufferable, he turned his attention outwards and saw Tilda offering him yet another pipeful of tobacco.
"You are trying to get me hooked on this, girl," he laughed but lit it up anyway. He was, at this point, fond of his charismatic pipe. At least it did not look like he was compensating for anything, but surely Amanda was already taking care of spreading the word about his impressive size.
"I thought you might have some use for relaxation, Captain," Tilda said with a good-natured chuckle. "Is there something that bothers you? Sure, we are going through hard times, but one of the women glimpsed a merchant and we could technically catch up to it. Even though we need your guidance, since we are really not that good at sailing."
"What do the ladies say about me behind my back?" Captain Bastian asked. "Are they satisfied?"
"Very much so," Tilda replied. "They all wonder how you are not already the richest and the most infamous pirate captain. They do gossip…and there are a couple of them that do seem to daydream about you a lot, Captain. They see you as a mysterious, unreachable figure."
"Hm. As much as I try to be close to them and amicable…hm, no matter, I will play the hand I was dealt. Who are these women who love me so?"