Vengeance of the Pirate Queen

The force of my glare is probably lost somewhat in the near darkness, but I’m sure he can guess my expression and my thoughts.

“Captain,” I remind him through gritted teeth.

“Captain, stop flattering yourself.”

“I—You—” I break off abruptly. I’m certain I’ve never stuttered before in my life, and I can’t imagine why I’m starting now. When I can collect myself, I begin again. “You told Alosa you would only join her crew if I was the one in charge of watching you during your probationary period.”

“I was a drunk. I said and did stupid things. I thought Enwen was good company, for stars’ sake. My judgment was altered.”

“Are you saying I’m only appealing to you when you’re drunk?”

A silence so thick I could cut it with my rapier fills the galley. Why did I suggest something so stupid?

“I’m saying I’m stone-cold sober now. I’m different.”

“Why?” I ask to change the subject.

“Why am I different when I’m sober?”

“Why are you sober now?”

Kearan says nothing for so long that I wonder if maybe he’s fallen asleep. Then, “That’s your fault.”

“My fault?”

“You dumped my flasks of rum overboard.”

“I’m to believe you were helpless to procure more?”

“No, it was a gesture that showed me you cared whether or not I was sober. You cared about me. So I did my best to quit and clean myself up.”

“Care?” I ask. “I don’t care about you. I did it because you stank, your teeth were yellow from the indulgence, and I knew it would piss you off. It was amusing to me, a way to give myself a reprieve from your stench.”

“Well, it worked, so why are you so angry?”

I take a breath to calm my voice. “I’m not angry.”

“Neither am I.”

“Good.”

Why does it infuriate me so when he tries to get in the last word?

“Kearan.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be familiar with me again. It’s captain to you or nothing at all.”

I leave lest he try to get the better of me again.

But he still manages, “Aye-aye, Captain,” before I’m out of earshot.





IN THE MORNING, IT is not a kitchen girl but Roslyn who delivers my breakfast.

“What are you up to?”

“Why do I have to be up to something? Can’t I just want to do something nice for my captain?” she asks.

She sets the tray down on my desk and steps back. I keep my eyes on her as I crack one of the hard-boiled eggs. Beside them are strips of bacon and a mango cut into squares. Roslyn says not a word until I’m halfway through my meal.

“You know, Captain,” she says a little too innocently. “I’ve just thought of something. Perhaps we should make the most of our time together.”

I don’t respond. Instead, I place my full attention on the food before me.

She is undeterred. “I once asked Alosa who had the highest death count in the keep. I thought it might be her, but did you know it’s actually you?”

I take a long pull from my glass of water.

“So I’m thinking, who better to learn from than you? Alosa has explained to me many times that I can’t grow up to be a siren like her. Ugh. If I have to hear the words You have to be born a siren one more time …” She trails off. “Anyway, all this is to say I’ve decided I’m an aspiring assassin instead.”

I nearly choke on my water.

Did she really just say the words aspiring assassin?

“How many people have you killed?” she asks. “No, wait. First tell me how old you were the first time you killed someone. Then tell me how many.”

I cough before turning to her. Someone has run a brush through her yellow hair and pulled it back out of her face. She’s clean and bright eyed. Her dagger is sheathed at her waist.

“You think you ought to be rewarded for poor behavior?” I ask.

“Sorinda, I’m doing you a favor. You’ll have fewer people to kill if you teach me. We can share the work!”

“Your father would murder me.”

“That’s the best part! He’ll never know because he’s not here. And he could never murder you because you’re a professional murderer.”

“Roslyn.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Leave my room. Now.”

“But—”

“Go.”

“Fine.” She stomps her feet as loudly as possible and slams the door behind her.

If dealing with Roslyn is the worst of the trouble I have to handle on the way to the Seventeen Isles, I’ll take that punishment happily.

Such a futile wish.

When I step out onto the main deck, there’s not a breeze to stir my hair.

“Bring out the sweeps!” Dimella shouts to the crew. She yells out the names of the first sailors to take turns at the oars.

No wind is bad for morale. Rowing isn’t a task anyone enjoys, and I see many downcast faces. Enwen runs up top with a pair of gloves on.

He sees me and says, “It’s bad luck to be missing the wind so early in a voyage, Captain.”

“Don’t you dare let superstitious rumors spread on this ship, Enwen.”

“Not a rumor if it’s true.”

“Less talking from you and more rowing.”

He harrumphs as he helps the others remove the boards hiding a little inlet on the main deck. Below are benches and openings in the ship for the sweeps.

They take their positions, spread out over eight oars, four on each side.

“Heave!” Dimella calls in time, signaling the crew when to stroke. “Heave!”

Many grunt with each pull of the heavy oars, and I note that all the rowers are staring at me or Dimella. Where else do they have to look except right in front of them?

Dimella has a purpose, calling out the tempo of the rowing, but I am useless. There’s nothing I can do save stand over everyone and watch, yet there’s nothing worse than being the one laboring while someone near you isn’t.

I would hate me if I were down there, watching myself just standing around.

I should have asked to be put in the first rotation, but it’s too late for that now. I can’t switch with someone; it’ll be seen as a sign of favoritism, surely.

I rack my brain for ways to help the situation. I can’t talk to Dimella, as she’s keeping time for the crew. Kearan’s gaze is boring into me from the aftercastle, but I refuse to turn and acknowledge him. Maybe I should hide in my cabin? But the rowers will see me enter, think I’m being lazy. Or that I’ve gone back to bed. Sleeping while they’re working.

The internal struggle is making me irritable.

What would Alosa do? The Ava-lee doesn’t have sweeps. We all suffered together when there was no wind.

This is enough to give me a headache. I never had to worry about such things when part of Alosa’s crew. I was free to hide where I wished, do what I wished when I was off duty. But as the captain, I’m always on duty. I’m always expected to keep up appearances for the crew.