Antoine Albrecht Ney knew how people looked at him. He knew all his life. The Black Rat, they called him, if they spoke of him at all. He was ugly, frail, and far from charismatic. He couldn't hold a greatsword, a nigh absolute requirement for all highborn men in the kingdom, he couldn't even ride a horse - his legs were too short to mount it. He had long since become inured to the harsh tongues and harsher looks of the court, for none were more harsh than his father, the late Lord Ney.
Yet his father loved him deeply, and while strict, he was never deliberately cruel. But as a lord of a barren land, he had to play the game at court. The survival of their estate depended on him gaining the favors of the high and mighty of the Acadian Kingdom. Bringing his son along was out of the question.
As much as he loved his son, he was secretly ashamed of him. And so he hid his son's absence at court with excuses and outright lies. Antoine only found out by chance, when he perused his father's letters.
He was angry. He was angry at his father, who had never once had he made him feel so worthless as he felt now. He was angry at the world, for hating him over something he did not choose. He was, most of all, angry at himself - for being weak. They never exchanged words over this and henceforth, it was as if a great rift had opened up between father and son, filled with all the things they would not say to one another.
If only he was stronger, better.
If only he wasn't his father's son.
So he pursued strength in his every waking moment, in the only available manner left to him. If they called him rat, he shall use it to his advantage. He worked in the shadows, making secret deals, trading favors, doing what others deemed too beneath them. He was a master of slavery, a procurer of forbidden delights and, most importantly, a generous moneylender.
When the opportunity arose for him to fulfill his king's desire - a peerless beauty, he was the first to offer his services.
He had spent a fortune on this gamble. Commissions did not come cheap, not to mention the ship itself, the wages of the crew and the ship's provisions. He had hoped to recover it through the purchase of slaves and the rare whale oil.
He had lost too much to give up now.
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Both Ney and the captain of the Fair Lady, Armaty, sat across from each other, a small desk between them. While both of them bore the striking mahogany skin of Acadians, they could not look more different.
A rat was sitting next to a lion.
"A fire had broken out in the lower decks. No one noticed it at first. I blame myself for not enforcing tighter discipline. When it spread to cargo hold... We were carrying purified whale oil. Tons of it."
Ney's delivery was surprisingly impeccable.
"So the red dawn that we saw some nights ago -"
"That was the oil burning up -"
Ney paused, drawing Armaty, ever so slightly, in.
"...and when the sun rose the next day, we set upon by sharks"
"My god... " A reflexive gasp escaped Armaty. He felt a sudden weight upon his shoulders; the guilt which he had tried to conceal when he rescued them earlier now manifested itself.
"A rogue wind had blown us out. If I had known, we would've made right for you.."
Ney gently held his hand.
"You couldn't have known. If anyone is at fault, it's me."
Ney knew then that he had Armaty hook, line and sinker. He only needed to wait for his inevitable offer.
"If there's anything I can do for you, you need only ask- "
"Well, there is the one thing... Did you see a whaleboat past your way here?"
"I can't say that I have."
Ney lower's his voice, there is no one around, save him and Armaty, but still he whispered, "I would not ask this of a fellow captain, if it were not of the utmost importance. You see, there is a prize on that boat, one that is critical to his majesty's great matter."
Armaty knew at once the reason for the discretion. The King's great matter referred situation regarding the heir to kingdom, or more accurately, the lack thereof. It had been rumored that the King himself was impotent, having gone through three wives, with nothing to show for it. Blame fell on the unfortunate women. Labelled as barren; they were swiftly divorced and 'made quiet'. Apparently all three loved the White Abbey in the far north and entered there as nuns.
Normally, divorce would have been impossible - even for barren women, but the rules did not apply to the like of his majesty, the king. This 'matter' was not only delicate, but also incredibly dangerous. To interfere with it would mean interfering with the future of the nation,and some consider that treason. Yet because of its precarious nature, if one were to to secure the next heir, or the next woman who will bear the heir, he would surely rise to great power and influence.
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As the Fair Lady changed her course, Ney took to the deck. He winced at the morning sun, having not seen it in days. The salt air opened up his lungs and invigorated him. It was a welcome reprieve, especially considering that he had cooped himself up in his cabin, planning meticulously for every possible eventuality.
There was one path he could navigate where all he desired would be his.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Now, he only need wait for that blasted wench to be found.
In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Andrei and Loxley, they were painting a piece of canvas. So engrossed they were in their endeavor that they did not notice Ney walking over to them.
They were painting the colors of his house.
"Ah, apologies cap'n, we took the liberty of asking Sir Armaty if we could hang our colors"
"He agreed?"
"Well we wouldn't be painting it otherwise, would we cap'n?"
This man. This loyal man. What did I do to deserve such loyalty?
Ney smiled.
"I'm no longer a captain. I have no ship."
"Then you'll be the first captain without a ship!", Andrei laughed.
He put the final touches on the flag, before Loxley clambered up the rigging and hung it off the mast. The golden yellow lion shone with the light of the morning.
"That bread, you could've saved it for yourself, but you broke it equal and shared it with us. Never seen anything like it, a highborn toff splitting it with the crew. You will always be our cap'n"
"Do you blame me?"
"Sir?"
Ney looked off into the horizon, he couldn't bear to see Andrei now.
"For all that has happened..."
"No Sir, it's that witch, that bloody witch, evil must be punished", Andrei seethed with anger.
Evil must be punished.
It was the rallying cry of the Acadian nation. It came from their most holy book, but it took on a meaning far more than sacred. To many Acadians, 'Evil must be punished' was what they heard when murderers were executed. It was what they heard when the king spoke to them of war. It was what they heard when they wanted to end the most vicious of arguments.
How strange Ney thought, that Andrei would be using it for her. After all, he was the root of that evil.
The Fair Lady came across the whaleboat, slaves in tow, that very day.
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Axum Sunfire was kept in the brig with her baby; she was sitting on the bed with the child in her lap. Despite all she endured, her beauty remained unmarred. The same couldn't be said for Lord Ney, who stood across her. He looked like he had aged a decade in a year. A dark canvas covered the iron bars; it obstructed both sight and sound. No one could look in, and more importantly, no one could hear what was transpired between them.
"Stay silent, and listen", said Ney.
Sunfire had earlier decided to keep mum as a final sign of protest in the inevitable interrogation to come, but to do so now meant doing exactly as she was told.
"Your child and the 19 others, I can feed them and I can clothe them. I can see to it that they lead comfortable lives. I can make it so that they want for nothing."
Ney takes a step closer.
"That is what you want isn't it?"
With one hand, Ney tips Sunfire's face to his.
"Or I can rescind my favor and my protection. In that case, you will die. Your son will die, and the 19 other brats can die along with him."
Sunfire winces at his words, "But then everyone will know what you did... I'll make sure of it."
"And how will you do that? We are surrounded by nothing but water. Sure, you can tell the crew, but what they'll only see is a woman, desperate and crazy, on her way to feed the sharks," Ney mocks.
A silence descends upon them; a momentary impasse.
"And what is it that you want?"
"Oh nothing you haven't been doing already. Just keep your mouth shut, and your legs open, for our king, that is."
Resignation and despair take root in Sunfire's mind. She lost. Against all odds she tried, but she lost. Yet still she had to fight, for the sake of her son.
"I want him to learn letters... And I want to see him."
"The first seems easy enough, the second might prove difficult. If someone suspects anything, it would be the undoing of not only you and me, but your child as well."
"No deal then. You can do this, I just want to see him grow up," Sunfire pleads.
Ney's face softens, "Every other year then, I'll bring him to court every other year. Do you agree to this?"
Sunfire nods.
"I'd like to hear it, please."
"Yes, I agree. Now leave me alone with my son."
Ney had a jump in his step, Sunfire was now the one who looked aged and tired.
As Ney left the brig, he could hear a woman's soft sobbing behind him.
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~~Ney~~
The best possible outcome.
I am at peace. The cost of the children would pale in comparison to what I would receive from the king. And if the girl would bear him a child, well that would be the icing on the cake wouldn't it? I feel ecstatic as I contemplate the possibilities.
No longer will anyone think of me as a rat. For once, I'll be able to hold my head up -
A sudden knock door interrupts my train of thought. It is Andrei.
Ah, Good Andrei.
I most definitely would see him rewarded.
"Cap'n, why does the witch still live?"
That question catches me off balance. In all my calculations, I did not account for this.
"She burnt our ship! Men I consider my brothers died because of her!", Andrei's voice grows louder and louder. If I'm not careful, there's a chance my carefully navigated path would crumble into ruin.
Damn it!
"There will be a time where we will revenge ourselves on her. Now is not that time."
I attempt to calm him down. If I can just subdue his anger, have him wait, I can surely make him come around.
"Cap'n, this... this is not right."
The dolt! Does he not see it? Bringing Sunfire to justice would be tantamount to killing our golden goose, even before she laid any eggs!
"You think you are the only one that feels pain, the only one that wants justice? I want it too, just as badly as you do-"
I move close and grab his shoulders.
"Be patient, and I promise you, I swear on the honor of my house, we will set this right."
It is a lie, but it is a good lie, for all our sakes.
Please, for the love of god, listen!
A creeping dread latches in the corner of my heart. I feel its snaking tendrils wrapping ever so slowly into my very being.
"You owe it to all of us. If you won't pass judgement on her, then I will." There was a finality in his voice.
"You said that I'll always be your captain did you not? Now as your captain, I now order you to cease this at once. You are to remain in your cabin till we make port." Maybe his sense of duty will move him.
Andrei turns around. As he walks out, I make one final appeal.
"Please, do not do this!"
He looks back at me, and in the same matter-of-fact way in which he first reported to me about the ships stores, he replies," Evil must be punished."
That accursed phrase.
Before I know it, my hand is holding a handle. The handle is that of a knife. And the knife is in Andrei's throat.
He looks at me with such a face; first of shock, then of horror and finally of a deep sorrow.
I let go of the knife, but it's stuck in his throat. Blood gushes out, and he makes no sound other than a gurgling in his throat.
What have I done?
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
I can't tell if those are my thoughts or if I'm saying them out loud. I cannot think, I cannot conjure any will to action, yet somehow, my body is moving.
I open the window, and unceremoniously dump him out by the side. I use my sheets to wipe the blood before tossing it out. I check my attire and compose myself. I head for the deck, and wait till the watch is on the far side of the bow before shouting.
"Man overboard! MAN OVERBOARD!"
We never recovered Andrei's body.