Awake

Chapter One - Missie Cream

“Then do so.”

Bill roared his orders, the foghorn bellow of the quartermaster listened to more readily than the captain’s own. Cream kept her eyes on the pursuers.

“Come on,” she whispered. “Do you dare?”

Piracy attracts a certain kind of person. Hopeful and hurting, daring and desperate. The sailors on slavers who beg even the slaves for scraps to eat. The wild dreamers. The let-go soldiers whose skill for the smack of a musket ball and the spray of red mist was no longer appreciated. Young people, always, taking a last chance on a new and irreverent democracy.

   And Carmen Bard, a kidnapped little girl nursing in her heart a rage so great it would shake the very oceans.

  Out here, there was only wealth and the sea and brotherhood, the only fear that your head may one day be made a stranger to your neck.

  Come on. Do you dare?

Closing…closing… There was no chance now that this was a friendly interception. The Imps knew who they were tailing.

  How had they found her? How had they got so close? She had outfought and outwitted them all. She owned these seas! How dare they cut her close like this?

“Capitaine?” the elegant Ralphe appeared at her side.

“Ralphe,” Cream rested a hand on his shoulder. “What mistake did I make?”

Ralphe – young, beautiful and fashionable – was a recent addition to the crew, not a born killer by any means. But his friendship was invaluable to the young captain.

“We play with luck,” Ralphe shrugged. “Even the best gamblers lose sometimes.”

Cream’s jaw tightened. “We haven’t lost yet.”

Ralphe raised an arched eyebrow at the ships, now close enough to make out specks of people on deck.

“Bring her about,” Cream’s voice was hard. “Ready the guns.”

“Capitaine…”

“Ready the guns,” Cream repeated. “We will fight this out.”

Ralphe nodded and evaporated into the organised chaos on deck. Cream turned her eyes back to the Imps. She had to be ready. She had to win this one, just as she’s won all the rest before. She had to find the answer.

  Unthinking, knowing the steps only too well, she made her way down to the great cabin. It was a crew room, yes, but also where Cream slept alone. It was one small assertion of her blood-won authority.

  Open the locker beneath the seat. Twin cutlasses in her belt. Double-barrelled pistol, heavy in her hand. She was quite steady as she loaded it, below with standard lead and above with partridge shot. Twice as many shots, twice as much use. The pouch in her belt was filled with spares.