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“I can fight.” Pel addressed her uncle, her violet gaze fierce as she stared down Captain Aegyne. She didn’t dare defy him before others in the crew since that would only inspire future punishments, the man not allowing anyone to question his authority like that, but in their private dinners she would sometimes have a bit of edge to her words. At least here she could somewhat communicate with the man, whereas anywhere else in public would have her put on the mask of a crewmember who didn’t dare step out of bounds for fear of a flogging. “I’m going to use blades, just like you. That’s what you wanted, correct?” She tore into the roll that was offered, Pel taking full advantage of the rare meal that she shared with her uncle while the rest of the crew spent the evening in town getting wasted and such.

“A swordsman, hmm?” Captain Aegyne leaned back in his chair, his fingers curving around the golden goblet full of expensive wine. He didn’t drink basic mead with the rest, he enjoyed luxuries far too much and didn’t trust the crew at all to lower his guard. How else could a pirate captain live? They were all a bunch of thieves and liars after all. “It would be ideal, if you’re not lying about your capabilities.”

“It’s not a lie.” Pel reinforced sharply, her knife and fork digging into the meat before her. “I’ll start training with others. It’ll be beneficial to you if I move up with the fighters. Can’t gather information cleaning the head all the time.” She had worked hard with Yarrow to move up from that disgusting responsibility and wanted to be with more of the crew. Taking care of the ship, learning how to fight so that she could help pillage and plunder would be the best way to getting some type of respect or at least a standing with others.

“Is that so?” Her uncle mused, taking a drink before lowering his glass and looking over at Pel. “It has been long enough, take up the blades then and prove it to me. I’d rather you stay busy on the ship than think about gallivanting through town to find places to stay.”

Pel frowned. “I don’t under-”

“I heard about your stunt in the city last week. Helping out in a bakery?” Her uncle scoffed towards Pel as he cut off her protests. “If you even try to hide away to find a life elsewhere on land, thinking you can avoid getting dragged back into this ship then you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I didn’t realize my time on shore would bother you so much.” Protested Pel, lowering her utensils so that she could glare at him. “Still, I’m just a lesser member of your crew, captain. What loss would you suffer if I did decide to become a baker or something?” She knew it was a risky question, but she was so frustrated and tired of everything that the defiance slipped out. If only she could work in a bakery or something like that instead of setting fires and cutting throats! But her hopes were crushed as soon as the captain moved towards her. His calloused fingers dug into her chin as she was forced to look up at him, one scarred eye narrowing while the other burned like molten gold.

“I don’t like having anything of mine to disappear, Pelagia.” Her uncle responded, keeping her in place with his hold. “You’ll be training on the ship and not going into town, not for the next few stops. Lesser or not, you are useful to me and will stay that way.”

“Understood.” Pel refused to rub at her jaw no matter how much it ached as her uncle finally let go and moved back to his seat, her own gaze fierce as she tried to stomach her meal without saying much more save for whatever her uncle wanted to hear about the crew. Even if she did one day slip onto the shore and got far away from this wretched ship she would still pick up the blades because she wanted to have that strength, to have the fighting power and to one day have the option to slit the throat of the man who tormented her. He would not be able to contain her forever, that much Pel promised herself even as she returned below deck for the night.

[742 wc]

Captain Aeygne was the devil. The whispers always followed the crew whenever they were in a port city, the darker outline of the Wailing Wraith making many close their shutters whenever she was spotted on the horizon with her distressed figurehead and tattered flag. The dark wood of the ship looked as if it had been stolen from the shadows themselves with the sleek material reflecting the sunlight as it danced across the ocean’s surface, blending in more so with the waves at night time when there was very little light to be seen save for whatever the moon and scattered stars blessed them with. Pel both adored and despised the ship which had become her home over the last few years ever since her mother’s passing. Part of her wished that her uncle, the devil, hadn’t come for her all those years ago while another part of her realized that without his interference she could be on the same path that her mother was forced on back then. Even then who was worse? The uncle who subjected his sister to such a life with false promises of future freedom on the ocean or the man who had fathered her and never came to claim his daughter or lover? Pel despised all of them, that much she knew for certain despite everything else. It was that anger, that frustration which fueled her movements above deck as she worked her chores and later went through the steps of swordsmanship with others in the crew. It kept her tongue sharp as well, her words and insults cutting through anyone on the crew who dared to question her as the twink boy who came from the gutters because of the captain’s fancy. If only they knew! Still, Pel held her tongue knowing that it was best to show her own skills than rely on any connection with the captain who would rather turn and walk away than reach out a helping hand. She was only here because of some fragment of guilt towards his deceased sister and only lingering because she was some sort of tool, possession of him now. He wouldn’t allow her to grow soft though, no there was no coddling here, and Pel was subjected to torment after torment in order to hone her survival skills and fighting spirit. Over time she realized she could float in the depths when it came to taking care of herself and avoiding the captain’s fury and punishments, but the screams of those that the Wailing Waith targeted would forever haunt her nightmares. Those nightmares kept her from sleeping much at all which in itself was also another blessing considering how little she could trust the crew to behave whenever her eyes were closed. They were a bunch of rotten pirates with nothing on the mind besides greedy and other unsavory desires. How many times this year alone had she acted like she wanted a piece of the action to only shove a girl down a shadowed alley so that she could run to safety? Pel would linger there in the dirtiest of places away from their eyes, making certain to mess her hair and attire before returning to the rest with her own blood on her hands to make the story believable. The very thought made Pel lash out against her training partner again, the metal of her blades gleaming in the sunlight as the only warning before steel hit steel and she pushed him further back towards the railing. They had been at this for a good hour now, the pair darting back and forth across the upper decks with their swords clanging together time after time as they practiced parrying and counter attacking each other. There had been a couple of lower blows and leg sweeps in the mix, just the standard moves to try to disarm an opponent, but for the time being they had kept fairly even since Pel held back to let Yarrow save some face for once. That was until she allowed her frustrations to take over and she swung a bit too fiercely against him, making the boy scramble for his neck.

“Oiy! Are ye tryin’ ta push me overboard?!” Yarrow yelled as he swerved and jumped to the side to avoid another hit. The boy was around her age, perhaps just a year or so older, and had his short orange hair all skewed. If anyone could perhaps be worth some mercy then it would be him since he was actually from the streets, the idiot drafted to work a decade on this ship for a place to eat and sleep. He avoided most of the debauchery, only participating when he couldn’t absolutely avoid it to keep up with the rest of the crew, and despite being a bit annoying with his attitude of slew of questions the other teen was somewhat tolerable. He also made for a good punching bag since Pel could trust him for a fair sparring match, unlike others where she had to toss a dagger into a leg to keep them from pulling out some sort of underhanded move during a fight. Even now she had four other throwing knives and daggers hidden on her and that wasn’t including the ones openly strapped to her belt and the swords in her hands. “Pel!”

“Hmm? Ah, thought ye could avoid that one.” Pel gave a slight shrug, not one to actually apologize like most on the crew, but it was enough for her to lower her swords to give Yarrow a moment to recover. She slipped in the accent easily enough, having mastered the tones of those living in the lower levels of the port cities like Yarrow once did, and Pel didn’t even flinch as Yarrow gave her the finger in response. “What? As if Brandt would give ye even room ta breathe, yer lucky it was me.”

“Fair ‘nough.” Yarrow lowered his hand and his blade before letting out a sigh. “My loss then.” It was fair enough considering how both of them were drenched in sweat at this point with the ocean sun right above them, the heat burning through their cotton and leather attire. Even Pel was feeling uncomfortable with her wraps beneath her shirt squeezing at her ribs, another curse she would have to fight against as she grew older since certain areas of her body didn’t quite understand her situation. Thankfully she was nearly starved on the ship so it made it easy enough to keep the lean frame, but if she had eaten more and been better taken care of then perhaps…well, her mother did have quite the figure before getting sick. That much was true and genetics tended to be stronger on her maternal side considering she only took her eyes from her father really. Not that Pel knew what the b*****d looked like, that was. “Oiy! Are ye alive? Not even listenin’ ta me, b*****d.”

Pel blinked and frowned, sheathing her swords finally. “Yer surrendering. What else do I need ta hear?” She mumbled, giving Yarrow a dirty stare as she set about fixing up her clothing from their skirmish. Those wraps definitely would need to be replaced soon, she could already feel them twisting against her ribs and the moisture was not making the situation any more comfortable. “Unless it’s ta tell me that we’re landin’ soon or ya have somethin’ fer me, what do I need to listen fer?”

“Not anymore, port is forfeit for now.” Yarrow offered, wiping the sweat from his brow before working on sheathing his own blade. The action caught Pel’s interest, the girl realizing that the scrawny kid had somehow filled out a bit more over the past two years. That was worrisome. What if others questioned why she wasn’t filling out more like some of the tougher crew? The very thought made her scowl and Yarrow froze again. “What now?”

“So they’d bring a spring upon ‘er?” Pel replied instead, realizing that the direction of the ship had to be different if they were back tracking. What happened to make them decide to go further along the horizon instead of following the coast to the next port city? Then again they did have fresh supplies from last week, that much would last them for a month if used sparingly enough. Not as if Pel expected much more than scraps for herself, she’d only eat well if they plundered something good. Their fresh supplies had come from another ship, the blessed maiden now sleeping beneath the depths with over half of her crew., but Pel hadn’t been at the front of the charge to claim most of the goods. She’d only been sent across afterwards, her fare being less than those who looted before sending the ship under. She was fortunate enough to be rewarded with food the night they feasted on victory, things returning to normal a day later once the rewards had been divided with most being locked in the captain’s own storage. Still, unless the carouser in the kitchens turned their mead to grog again there would at least be plenty of mead to keep them going until they found whatever crossed their path next. She had just expected the captain to visit a port city to trade what they could before venturing out again, despite the fresh supplies it was still an unexpected encounter and they had things to trade. So why the turn around?

“Aye. First mate was drinkin’ the lot last night and mentioned that there may be a clipper after us.” Yarrow had lowered his voice, his teal gaze bright as he moved closer to Pel so that his words didn’t carry quite as far. “Think we’ll be in fer another fight?”

“Spirits know.” Replied Pel with a frown, processing what Yarrow had heard. “Might have hit someone else’s cargo, no wonder he’s turned with the wind.” Very few ships were fortunate enough to have a wind mage on board, even pirates couldn’t get them to work willingly with their last diving overboard to never be found again, and so it was best to go further out to sea if they were being chased especially if the wind was in their favor. “Either way I’m prepared to fight.” Innocents made her stomach twist, but other pirates? She would enjoy gutting them with her blades, that wasn’t even a question for Pel at this point in her life.

Yarrow simply let out a sigh. “Would much rather be in a port, drinkin’ and sleepin’ the night away in comfort.” He shook his head as if in dismay before going to grab a bucket to fill up with water to slap across the deck, salt water worked fair enough with whatever fragment of soap they had left to try and clean the grim from the upper decks. They always ended up sweeping things after training, kept them busy and away from the fouler areas of the ship where the lesser boys worked during the days. Pel had started there once with Yarrow before they bonded and dragged themselves to a slighter higher position, still cleaning but at least it wasn’t someone’s s**t. That in itself was definitely a blessing, especially on a ship like this one where gods knew what most of the crew ate and drank to pass the time on the ocean.

“Ye mean someone’s bosom?” Pel let out a laugh as she grabbed a mop, thrusting it into the bucket once Yarrow pulled it back up with water and tossed the flakes of soap in. She didn’t even care that it splashed everywhere and just started scrubbing away. “Prob safer to be fightin’ on the high seas. Last time ye went into a whore house an’ hit on Trynt’s lady friend then found yerself tied to the mast for a whole night. Yer lucky he allowed ya to stay up here and not be shoved down below again.”

“Bit more poetic than what I wanted ta say, but aye.” Yarrow replied with a wolfish grin, grabbing another mop for himself as he worked alongside Pel. “Not like that bothers ye since yer never with us. Where do ye even go while we’re havin’ fun? It wouldn’t hurt to let loose and give up some coin here and there, Pel.”

“Spend me precious coin ta spend time with some foolish rogues? I’d rather go clean the head than let them hornswaggle me earnin’s.” Replied Pel without missing a beat, the girl not interested in any of those activities at all and not willing to risk some woman groping her for money. She’d only disappoint any of those types of escorts, that was for certain and she didn’t dare let them reveal her secret to the crew! If those fools wanted to think of her as some scrawny boy then let them. It was much better than dealing with foolish superstitions or someone getting lonely out at sea as the only female on board. It was hard enough as it was, even boys with pretty faces could be in danger. It was another reason she had stayed close with Yarrow, the pair taking shifts to protect each other’s backs while navigating their life within the crew. If her uncle had ever shown her any mercy it was by picking up another gutter rat the same time he dragged her onboard, at least she had company to suffer with her over the years.

“Fine, fine. Don’t need ta be goin’ there.” Yarrow shook his head as he continued mopping. “I’ll just have fun ‘ere with ye and remember ye when we spend another night out in town. I’ll bring a momento next time while ye stay borin’ on the ship. If we get out of this mess first, spirits willin’.”

“We’ll be fine, just focus on this.” Pel replied, only shaking her head at the boring comments. Oh, if only he knew! Boring? More like surviving! At least while the rest were stumbling out drunk in the streets and in the entertainment houses she could finally get some good rest on the Wailing Wraith unless her uncle called her in for another one of those awkward dinners, Pel grimacing at the very thought of them. While the others had their fun it was the perfect time for the captain to interrogate her, using Pel as a resource to see what the crew was actually up to during their voyages. Paranoid b*****d wanted to make sure there was no talk of mutiny and Pel was the best pair of ears on the ship considering how little others cared about her lesser presence as one of the lower crew hands. She heard nearly as much as the rats in the bowels of the ship, especially with Yarrow also whispering in her ear whenever he heard something. They’d only tossed one first mate overboard in the last three years at least, the crew learning to not question the captain ever since. And Pel was determined to not swim with the fishes either so she kept her ears sharp, telling her uncle whatever he wanted while biding her time to try to find a way in this cruel ocean and away from the Wailing Wraith.

[2500 wc]