A Pirate's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 12 - "My father will come for you."

As Isla headed away from the Earl's estate, she was shrouded in anger, the emotion smothering all others beneath it. Trailing behind her were four shadows in the forms of Hawk and the three men who had acted as lookouts. Their presence was as heavy as the weight of their eyes.

Though the empty streets of the city should have made it feel like it was theirs for the taking, the blackened window eyes and locked doors were reminders that Isla and the crew had overstayed their welcome. It was time to flee with their failure.

The only glow came from the windows to the tenant house where silent eyes waited. The weakness in Isla urged her to bypass the building, leave behind the sailors, make for the port and board the ship, where she would be left alone with only herself and her failure. But the man in the brig proved even then she wouldn't be able to outrun this night.

From within the tavern room, Isla could hear the murmur of conversation, idle chatter as men waited for the news of their freedom. The low rumble of it tightened the knot in her stomach. When she opened the door, the room fell quiet as if holding its breath. She stepped into the light and met the eyes of a dozen sailors. The anger that had been burning hot in her chest was extinguished.

She said nothing, for nothing needed to be said. All the words she would give them were plainly written her face as well as the faces of the men behind her. As one, chairs ground against the wooden floor as all the men rose to leave. Their emotions were tucked behind masks honed from years. It made no difference, Isla had known these men her whole life and saw it all in the slope of their shoulders and the way they wouldn't fully meet her gaze. Disappointment. Weariness. Resignation.

As they filed out the door, Isla looked to the pair in the back. Bin had Mara wrapped in his arms and was whispering something in her ear. When they pulled away, Mara's face crumpled with sadness. As Bin forced himself to let go of his wife, Mara searched for Isla. Before she could catch her eye, Isla turned away, not able to bear the weight of one more person's disappointment.

The crew slipped into the night, no more than shadows to a city that would no longer have them.  Waiting for them at the ship, was the rest of the men. None had slept, none could have. At the sight of the silent, somber mass, they left the railing and prepared to set sail. Aboard, Isla gave into a piece of her weakness and let Hawk take the wheel. The need to work with her hands was equal to the desire she had to let loose her frustration on Raif, a manifestation of all that had gone wrong.

As she climbed into the rigging, the wind snapped at her clothes. She added her nimble fingers to those of the other sailors as they worked at knots and escaped into the night. Behind them, the West Isles was a silhouette against the sky, a hollow echo of the hope it had been upon its first sighting. As easily as they had come, the ship cut through the water, stealing away with the tide. Isla worked the ropes, trying to banish the heaviness of unspoken things and her own emotions.

Against all her intentions, she had let herself hope and that hope had stabbed her in the back.

The ship dipped, the motion making Isla sway as the waves carried them along. The sails tumbled free and snatched the wind, increasing their departure. Holding onto one of the lines, Isla stood on the top castle, staring at the retreating land. Below her, she could hear patter the footsteps, but there was no hum of voices.

Instead of descending, she climbed higher to the crow's nest. Roland stood stationed at his post. Despite the height, she knew he was aware of the night's turn of events. Like the others, he said nothing and hid his feelings within himself.

Isla leaned forward, resting her arms on the railing. The sea was a landscape of indigo lashed with silver from the winking moon. As she gazed out on the breathing landscape, a roughened hand came to settle on her shoulder. Twisting her head, she met the steady eyes of Roland.