Edward

Silence falls inside the cabin, so quiet that I can hear my heart pounding in my chest, and Mary’ and James’ panicked breathing. I go over Rover’s question in my head as I study Ven. Female pirates are uncommon, but not unheard of. With long black hair that fell to her waist, a gray jacket with silver embroidery, and a wide brimmed black hat with two gray feathers, Ven was an imposing figure, all six feet of her. She tapped her lip with one finger, shark-like eyes examining each one of the people in the room.

“Tell me, Rover. I did not take you for the kind that takes prisoners. They waste both space and supplies.” Her voice sounds like waves crashing over a deck, deep and thunderous. Rover chuckles.

“Even valuable prisoners?” He says with an upturned smile. Ven scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“The only valuable person that’s ever graced your decks is Asta, and you know it.” She says.

“Your point?” The older man in the brilliant red robes asks.

“You and Isabeth have incredible abilities, but a boy like Asta? He’s rare. Easily twice, three times as much as what you paid for him.” Ven says. Isabeth raises a dark, sickle shaped brow. The old man mutters under his breath, the only evidence a few up-and-down motions from his shaggy excuse of a beard. Rover clicks his tongue and leans back into his seat, feather plume hat casting shadows over his eye-patch and remaining frost green eye.

“It seems only fair that we introduce ourselves,” he must see the look on Mary’s face, because he laughs, “We are civilized people, are we not?”

“Try explaining that to the men you killed on the Morning Glory!” Mary snapped. Under the firelight, her hair had a gold sheen to it.

“Little Drake, you want answers for what I did? Tell me what I want to hear, and you’ll get your answer. Savvy?” Rover purrs, draping an arm over the armrest of his chair. I watch my comrades, curious about what they’ll do. James’ hands are balled into fists, and he looks like he’s torn between stepping in front of Mary or launching an attack at Rover. Mary is staring right at the pirate captain, clear defiance coating her eyes in a thick, milky layer.

“I await with open ears. Spit it out.” Rover snaps, clearly reaching the end of his patience. Mary’s gaze wavered, before dropping to the ground. All I wanted was to get her off this ship, and out of this entire situation.

“Will whipping Asta make you more cooperative? I’ve seen the way you watch him, like a Drake searching for its prey.” Rover starts to stand, but stops when Mary shakes her head fiercely.

“I’ll tell you. My father fears losing another child. The Strait and the Drakes already claimed my older brother. He, he-he will lose his mind when he learns of my capture.” Her voice wobbles at the very end. James moves to comfort her.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“So? All parents lose children to the sea. My birth mother took her own life when she learned what I had become.” Rover says, sitting back down. I nearly gag.

What I had become. Dark words. Dark words for a dark man.

“What about her answer? Or do pirates not only massacre defenseless men, but not keep their word as well?” James accuses, frowning. Rover stands and walks over to the bookcase mounted in the wall on the starboard side of the ship.

“Your answer?” He says, slightly muffled. When he goes back to his desk, he places a thick, leather bound journal with yellowing pages that stick out at weird angles from within the confines of the cover on its mangrove surface.

“The answer for your question is simple: survival. Survival of the fittest is important on any sailing vessel, even more so on a Draking Ship such as the Scarecrow. Ships in the Hadirin Royal Draking Guild such as the sad scraps of a ship you were on are a threat to the pirate world. Myself and many other captains, would prefer to not have a entire fleet on their tails.

“We attack ships so we may not have to go to port every few months. The last time the Scarecrow went to port was under the previous- and quite dead- captain. And having several weavers on board helps as well.” Rover opens to the middle, then turns the book around to show it to us.

“The port of Jü’Liont. Once a tiny speck half worth any honorable seaman’s coin, now one of the biggest ports in the world. All thanks to piracy.” On the page is a before and after bird’s eye view sketch of Jü’Liont. The left page had only a few small buildings huddled around a few rectangles that extended out into the sea. The page on the right was covered in a maze of squares, rectangles, hexagons, and other geometry shapes, with the docks being a confused jumble of intersecting lines.

“So, this is your port?” I ask, eyeing the right page. Both captains and weavers burst into laughter.

“My port?” Rover says between fits of laughs.

“Hadirins and their assumptions.” Ven says, smiling and shaking her head. Isabeth crosses her arms over her chest.

“Capitán?” She blinks. Rover looks up at her.

“What is it, Isabeth?” He says.

“Asta?” She answers.

“Go get him.” She nods, and starts towards the door. Right before she closes it, Rover calls after her.

“And tell him to eat something. He’s probably skinnier than a half-starved stable boy at this point.”

Isabeth nods again and leaves, shutting the door behind her with a thud. Rover sighs.

“Piper, where’s that infernal key?” The old man hurries over, handing a key more rust than original metal to Rover. Rover stands and begins to pace, the key perched on the tips of his fingers.

“Back to my original question, what do you call yourselves?”

“James Hardmen.” James says, eyes drilling twin holes in his boots.

“Mary Liämel.”

“Captain Edward Williems.” I say, forcing the words past my throat.

“Liämel?” Rover asks, confusion on his face.

“Yes. That Liämel.” Mary says, eyeing the man.

“So that demon blood flows through your veins. How marvelous. And you act just like the last Liämel to have crossed my trail.” Rover says.

“Pardon?” Mary raises a brow.

“You don’t mean-” James stops with his jaw hanging slack.

“You’ve seen Caleb?” Mary blurts.

“Yes. Your brother, I assume? He was brilliant. Quite possibly the most impressive harpooner I’ve ever seen. He joined Drevor and his crew on the Night Sword.” Rover sighs, then rubs his forehead.

“What’s he like?” Mary says, eyes wide. Rover glares at her.

“Piper will take you back to your cell. Do not ask questions of anyone on this crew. And that includes Asta.”

“But,” Mary protests. Piper, the old man, comes over and tugs on our shackles, leading us out of the room.

Right before the door closes behind us, I see Rover lean over and whisper into Ven’s ear. I only catch a few words, but it’s enough to send a chill though my bones.