Daughter of the Pirate King

HOW MANY REALIZATIONS CAN a person have before one actually proves to be right?

I close my eyes as I try to remember what the Night Farer looks like from the outside.

Sixty feet long. Made with a combination of oak and cedar wood. Three sails. Rounded stern. But these are not what interest me.

The bowsprit extends twenty feet in front of the ship. Below it, carved out of the same mixture of wood, is the figure of a larger-than-life-sized woman. She’s beautiful, with long flowing hair and big glassy eyes—probably made from actual glass. But it’s the dress that leads me to believe that the girl is supposed to be a siren.

She’s wearing a long dress that’s made to look as though it’s rippling underwater. She appears weightless, too, by the way her legs are unattached to the boat, hanging above the water. She is connected only by her back.

I feel as though the entire future rests in my hands as I hurry from Riden’s room. I scurry about the ship, finding myself a long sturdy rope. Using a bowline knot, I attach it to the railing at the bow of the ship.

Effortlessly, I lower myself down and hang right in front of the siren’s large face. My wrists are mostly healed from hanging in front of the pirates for an entire day. They trouble me little now. Besides, I’m more concerned with finding this map and doing it quickly. A little pain now will be nothing compared to what could happen should I fail.

I move my hands over the wood that makes up her skin, looking for any hidden slots, trick buttons, or anything else that might be concealed in the wood. I feel an indent at the top of her hairline, but that turns out to be just a groove in the wood. But my heart raced at the possibility of it. Then it crashes as that proves to be useless as well.

Was Jeskor’s line careless? Did they lose their map over the centuries? Riden did say his father grew to be sloppy. Maybe he gambled the map away. That would make it nearly impossible to find.

I can hear light footsteps up on deck, but that is likely just the watch. I had to slip past them on my way down here.

How can all this have been for nothing? I’ve been kidnapped, questioned, tortured, and reduced to playing horribly demeaning roles to get what I want.

I’m so furious, the rope I cling to starts swaying. My body is tight, occasionally rocking as I lurch with frustration.

What was that?

I swear I caught a glint of something in her eye. Leaning forward, I cause the rope to swing again.

There it is again. Her left eye. It looks darker than the right from this angle.

I can feel my blood pounding under my skin. My heart beating in my head. I reach down to grab a lower end of the rope. I wrap it around my foot several times and then hold the end under my chin. I’ll need both hands for this.

My dagger is still in my boot. Riden has not once asked me for it. He must have forgotten about it.

I wedge the blade in between the glass and the wood and apply pressure at an angle. The glass pops off, and I barely catch it before it topples into the water.

From the back, I can clearly see that a piece of parchment has been encased within. How can it be anything else than what I seek?

“Finally,” I say breathlessly.

I cock my head sideways at the one-eyed siren. “Sorry about that. But I need to take this.”

The eye is about the size of a large apple, but I still manage to fit it into one of my pockets so I can climb the rope. I’m smiling as I haul myself over the edge and drop onto the deck.

But then I look up.

I’m not alone. Not even close.

It appears that the entire crew is on deck. That’ll be including a clothed Riden and Draxen.

Oh, stars.

“Well, look who it is,” Draxen drawls out. It’s hard to tell his mood. On the one hand, he looks pleased to have caught me. On the other, he is very unpleased to see me. I did, after all, leave him knocked unconscious and naked in his room. “Our little prisoner. Or would thief be a better term here?”

“Thief?” I say with a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Well, you’re either a thief or a whore, princess. Those are the only words that would explain the situation you left the two of us in.”

“I believe the only thing I’ve stolen from the likes of you is your dignity. Perhaps your reputation.”

Draxen lowers his eyelids. If I thought he hated me when I first came onto the ship, it’s nothing compared to what he thinks of me now. He takes a step forward.

“Turn out your pockets,” Riden says. I turn my attention over to him. He’s trying so very hard to keep a mask over his face. But something keeps peeking through. Disappointment? Anger? Maybe even a tinge of sadness?

Am I the reason for that?

Draxen draws his sword. “Turn out her pockets? Why don’t we have the princess take off her clothes so we can inspect her properly?”

A few men whistle. But I’m not worried. I’d jump overboard before I let that happen.

Riden tries to solve things on his own. “Hand it over, Alosa.”

“What am I handing over?”

“Oh, don’t be daft, lass. We know you’ve found the map.”

“I just managed to dig out a few holes near the bottom of the ship. I’ve a mind to set you all to sinking.”

Draxen tries to advance on me again, but Riden beats him to it.

He whispers, “I don’t know why I’m still trying to protect you. But know my brother is in a foul mood that even I might not be able to assuage. You must give it over now.”

“I don’t have—”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

But he must see the bulge in my clothing. He reaches it before I’m able to stop him.

No, no, no.

Riden removes the eye from my pocket. He studies it carefully. I can see the precise moment when he’s convinced the map is inside. He nods in satisfaction and steps back, handing the glass to his brother.

The map is enough to calm Draxen down ever so slightly. “At last,” he says.

“Wait,” I say, realizing something given Draxen’s reaction. “You knew about the map. You just didn’t know where it was?”

“Hadn’t a clue,” he says cheerily, rubbing the details into my face. “We stole you away to get the drop on the pirate king in order to get our hands on his part of the map. You finding our own map for us turned out to be quite serendipitous.”

I stare back, openmouthed. “But how did you know I was looking for it?”

“Riden started to suspect long ago. Did you really think you were being so careful? Your nightly raids of the ship. Your pathetic fake escapes. The fearless way you’ve carried on about the ship. Only a woman who wanted to be here wouldn’t show an ounce of fear in front of enemy pirates.”

That’s not true at all. They don’t know me or what I would or wouldn’t do in any given situation. But Draxen’s low regard of me is not what hurts the most.

It’s Riden selling me out.

I know he was playing a part. Pretending to be my protector at times. I know deep down this is always the role he was meant to perform. But it still hurts. Can I even call it a betrayal? How can I be betrayed by someone who was never on my side to begin with?

My mission was to procure the map without anyone noticing. Then I was supposed to lead the ship to the checkpoint.

I’ve utterly failed the first part, even if I’m on track with the second.

“Take her to my room, gents,” Draxen says. “It’s about time someone had some proper fun with her.”

I frown before realizing this works out well for me. Fighting off Draxen alone while the men calm down is much easier than trying to take them on all at once.

I’m hauled forward by three men. One at each arm and one at my legs. I make forced attempts at ripping free from their grasp. I don’t scream, though. A promise is a promise, and I told Draxen he would never hear me scream.

Riden’s there, too. Draxen gives the map back to him for safekeeping. He tucks the glass into his pocket. Then he’s helping the men escort me. I’ll bet he’s loving this. Giving his brother what he wants is Riden’s specialty. First the map and now me. Draxen is done pretending he’s holding me for a ransom. There’s no need to play nice now.

They throw me, very ungracefully and ungently, into the room. Riden stands by the door, apparently wanting a few moments alone with me before his brother arrives.

But I don’t want that.

“Get out,” I say. “You’ve done enough.”

His expression remains calm, focused. “Do you still have that knife in your boot?”

I exhale a laugh of incredulity. “Of course not.”

“Good. Keep it close. But please, only use it if you have to. He’s still my brother. Don’t kill him.”

“So used to my lies now, are you? You can tell truth from fiction? What are you doing, Riden? What is your play? I’m sick of trying to figure you out. Just when I think I’ve got it, you do something else to irritate me. Who are you putting on a show for?”

“No time, Alosa. Get free and get out of here if you can. That’s the best I can do. The map for my brother, and freedom for you. Please. Again I’ll ask you, don’t kill him.”

“That’s a big gamble you’re taking, Riden. What happens if Draxen overpowers me? How will you feel about that?”

“Oh please. We both know you are hiding more than your intentions to get the map. You are skilled, Alosa. More skilled than any human girl could possibly be. No one man could get the better of you. I don’t know what you are. I just know you’ve somehow gotten into my head. And you managed to enchant the whole crew the other day. I’m still trying to figure out why you haven’t killed us all already.”

The door wrenches free, and Draxen strides in. “Leave us,” he commands. Swiftly and forcefully at the same time.

Riden obeys, then sends one more pleading look in my direction. Don’t kill him.

I’m still stuck on Riden’s words. Human girl. He knows. I know he remembers me singing him to sleep, but was it too much to hope he would explain it away as coincidental?

But then, why wouldn’t he tell Draxen? Or, well, why wouldn’t he warn Draxen? It probably shouldn’t matter. But it does. I don’t know how I feel about Riden knowing my secret. Or at least guessing part of it.

I’m still puzzling this all out when Draxen slams me against the wall in his room.

“I’m going to enjoy this. If you had gone along with everything last time, you would’ve had it good. But not now. Now I’m going to make you scream.”

“Actually, Draxen,” I say, struggling against his weight, “you’re really not.”

He laughs as he tries to force me toward his bed. “I’ve thought about doing this for a long time.”

“Me too.”

Draxen braces my back against the wall. His arms are at my shoulders. I manage to lift both legs, plant them on his stomach, and kick, using the wall to steady me. That sends him reeling backward several feet.

I land painfully on the ground. My mind quickly travels back in time to when Draxen questioned me in this room. Some of my blood is still dried onto this floor. Draxen hit me again and again, trying to get me to give him the location to my father’s hideaway.

I’ve always lived with the eye-for-an-eye mentality.

I send my right fist into the side of his face. I don’t have to hold back now, and I don’t. I put everything I have into it. I know I’ve hit sure and sound when I can feel the resulting stinging pain in my knuckles. After being cooped up and holding back for so long, this is bliss. A painful bliss.

Draxen grunts from the impact. He’s still unsure of what’s happening when I send a second strike with my left fist.

“How does that feel, Draxen?” I hiss. “Don’t worry—we’re not done yet.”

He growls as he tries to see me in front of him. He advances, trying to pummel me with his own fists. But a quick duck and two strikes later, I land him onto the floor.

He utters a few exhausted curses.

I’m still not done with him.

“You threatened to cut my hair. What manner of foul scum does that? How about if I cut off something you value, Draxen?”

He takes in a large gulp of air. Of course that threat would make him scream for help, but I can’t have that. One quick kick to the face and he’s out.

I get my knife out of my boot. What should I take from him? An ear? A finger? Something from down low?

I cringe at that thought. Too gross. Perhaps I should stick this in his heart and be done with it.

But Riden’s voice comes circulating in my ears again. Please don’t kill him.

I’ve never had a brother. I don’t know how I would feel toward him. Especially if he behaved like Draxen. I think I’d still kill him.

What do I care what Riden thinks? He’s the only one who gets hurt as a result. Draxen won’t feel a thing. The pirates under him can always find a new vessel to crew for. Most of them seem more loyal to Riden than they do their captain anyway. Lord Jeskor isn’t around to claim vengeance. But Riden might. I suppose he might even rally up the crew to join him.

I’m not afraid.

I get on my knees and find myself staring at the dagger.

It’s the dagger that Riden let me keep. He knows I have it. He’s known I’ve had it for a while. But he’s trusted me not to abuse it. It was a gift of protection from him. He took everything else I owned away from me, but he let me keep this one token out of good faith.

And he trusted me enough not to kill his brother?

What a fool.

I hover over Draxen’s chest, visualize the knife sinking in, imagine the resistance of the skin and innards, hear the sound of the knife sliding between the ribs.

But no matter how many ways I think about it, I can’t seem to make my hand advance downward.

As much as I try to be unaffected by Riden, for all I’m worth, I can’t seem to do the one simple act of killing his cruel brother.

I’ve killed hundreds of men. Why not this one?

Blasted Riden.

I try to make myself feel better by thinking it’s not worth the time to make the kill. Of course, I’ve wasted more than a minute, sitting here, thinking about it. But never mind that.

I need to get that map.

I need to find Riden.