The WindFlyer

Chapter 31

I refuse to close my eyes, refuse to cower before this man. As he starts to swing, I sword painted red protrudes from his chest. Shock is written on his face as he glances down at it. A frown plays on his lips as he touches it before the sword is forcibly yanked back. The man crumbles to the ground to reveal Astoria holding her sword wet with blood in one hand and her pistol in the other. I scramble to my feet, relief flooding my body. I swoop down to pick up my sword and return to the carnage.

I hear the sound of a cannon, then a great cracking, followed by a groan. The one of the masts on the slaver ship sways in the air before it crashes down on the deck with a mighty thud. The slaver ship doesn't have much time now. The screams and shouts seem to lessen until the only sound is one man cursing and yelling like a wild dog. He thrashes about as Andreas and another crew member hold his arms and drag him across a plank to the WindFlyer. I watch him as he howls and fights the whole way. Then I find Astoria leading a hundred slaves from the below decks, their chains already broken off or unlocked somehow. They are pale with fear, probably thinking they are about to die. But I watch Astoria's lips move, I watch as she offers them a life. I watch as their fear melts into awe and then as some of them hug each other. Some still skeptical and not trusting of the captain. I watch Ren walk over to relieve Astoria and the captain leads the way back to her ship.

I follow close on her heels now, feeling drained. I can't remember exactly what happened, just that there was a fight and a lot of death. It's like I was there but I was not there. I shake my head and try to clear the fog that has descended there. Andreas has chained the head slaver's hands and feet while the same male crew member and a new female one force him into a kneeling position. His eyes are wide and careening about in terror. He bastard deserves whatever Astoria has planned for him.

The first mate now comes up to Astoria. "Three casualties, Cap'n. Yewey, Quince, and Tarmin," he says with a salute. The captain nods sadly at his words.

"I will alert the families when we return to Oneiro. Andreas, blow the slaver ship," she says, her voice quiet but not weak. She rubs her forehead with the back of her knuckle before walking over to the terrified slaver. Andreas walks off and disappears, likely going to get some Hellfire.

The crew gathers around the quavering man, disgust written plainly on their faces. Astoria walks before the man and begins pacing slowly in front of him. Back and fourth. Back and fourth. The mans eyes latch on the every move.

"You are a slaver. You must be punished for your crime," she says cooly and without looking at him.

"P-please! Mercy! I beg of you!" the man tries, attempting to barter for his life. I see Astoria scoff at his request, rage now playing across her face.

"Mercy? Mercy! Where was your mercy when you beat these people? Where was your mercy when you stole them from their homes and ripped them from their families? Where was your mercy when they begged you not to harm their children? Where was your mercy when you sold them off like cattle? You have the nerve to beg before me like you are deserving of my mercy. The only thing you deserve is death. And so, you will die," the captain says, words laced with contempt and disgust. Her face full of hatred. Astoria raises her blade as the man begins to cry. Tears streaming out of his eyes as he watches her with horror. The blade whistles through the air, creating a sickening crunch when it meets flash and bone, mixed with the mans cut off scream. She lifts it again and severs his head. It thuds against the deck and rolls before the two crew members holding him throw the body overboard followed by that severed head, mouth still in the expression of a scream, cheeks still wet with tears, eyes now dull and lifeless. The crew murmurs and nods amongst themselves as they move to go back to work. Astoria wipes her blade and sheaths it.

She looks at me and her eyes flash with an unknown emotion, "you must think me a monster," she whispers. Shame. The emotion is shame. I shake my head at her.

"No, I don't. I think you honorable," I say. My chest swelling with some sort of pride at the bravery she displayed today. Pride at knowing there are people in this world who are willing to risk their lives for others, for those who have been forgotten.

"For a pirate, you mean?" she asks, cocking her head at me. I find myself shaking my head again as a small smile tugs on my lips.

"No, for a human. You are more honorable than any person I've ever known, noble or not," I reply. I watch as Astoria swallows and though she does not say it, I can tell that she appreciates what I say. She smiles at me and I return the action.

So strange, to me at least, that we can walk on to an enemy ship and kill people, lose some of our own, walk off, and somehow we can still smile after all the death. Because somehow there is still room for light and joy even in all the darkness around us.

The distinct sound of crackling fire plays behind us as we sail away. The sound of wood being eaten and groaning as it burns echoing over the water. Heat playing on our backs as we get further and further out to sea. One less slaver in the world, the sun seems that much brighter to me.