Three Weeks Later
Captain Alisdair's stomach plummeted when the black flags came into view. He did not know who the pirates were, but he did know he had to get his crew out of those waters.
He let out a string of curses as he attempted to maneuver the ship away from their adversaries. Having just left Ebony's waters, he had thought they were in the clear.
Fate clearly had other intentions.
"Captain!" his first mate called, joining him at the helm. Alisdair turned around.
Hands gripping the helm tightly, he asked, "What is it?"
"Burken just spotted—"
"I know what he spotted," Alisdair interrupted. "I am changing course as fast as I can."
"Changing course?"
"Yes, we cannot risk those vile creatures getting a hold of the cargo. The Frost Weavers will not be lenient if we lose their money. We would be better off dead."
"But they've got a girl."
"Excuse me?"
His first mate handed him a thin telescope. Holding it to his face, he peered through at the pirate vessel. Many men had gathered on the deck of the ship. A board—a plank, as those villains called it—had been placed on the edge. A girl in a blue dress stood at the end of it, several swords at her back.
Alisdair cursed. "We cannot let them kill her."
"We may be too late, sir."
"Not yet."
He turned the helm sharply and the ship swung in the direction of the pirate vessel. Eyes narrowing, he ordered, "Keep me updated on the state of their hostage. If she goes in, I am going in after her."
None of them said anything as he maneuvered their ship closer and closer to the pirates. The members of the crew were stony faced. If they were honest, they did not want to condemn an innocent woman to such a death. However, it was also a sailor's worst fear to be killed by pirates.
They were within range to swing over when one of the men screamed, "They have sent her over."
Captain Alisdair let go of the wheel and turned around in time to see the girl plummet.
"Take the helm," he ordered to no one in particular. He threw off his coat and boots. He also removed his shirt and sword, discarding them on the deck.
"Are you sure, Captain?" Burken exclaimed.
"I am," he stated, then jumped over.
The waves were calmer than they had been the previous nights, but they were still choppy enough to make his job difficult.
Forcing himself to open his eyes, he found the girl sinking rapidly. They had bound her, and she could not swim to save herself. He ignored the burning salt sensation overtaking his eyes and dove deeper, managing to cross paths with the woman. She allowed him to heave her towards the surface. Fortunately, she was not heavy.
The woman spat out water and began coughing violently as the crew pulled them back onto the ship. Once on board, she started screaming.
"It is alright miss," he assured her. "We are sailing away from the pirates now."
Sure enough, they were losing the pirates, slowly, but it was a start.
"No!" she exclaimed. "You must go back! My brothers are aboard!"
Several of the men rolled their eyes. It seemed their good will only extended to lovely women. Not that she was particularly beautiful. Quite plain, actually. He supposed it could be a matter of tastes. And the fact that he was already in love with someone else, someone very different from her.
Shivering, she pleaded to the captain, "Please. I can't let 'em die."
He sighed. "Very well, miss. Turn the ship back!"
"Are you mad?" Burken demanded.
"Probably," Alisdair admitted as he helped the woman to her feet. In a matter of seconds, they were within the pirate's range once more.
"Do you see them?" the woman asked desperately. "Please tell me you see them." She was crying now.
The first mate lowered his telescope, declaring, "I do not see any other prisoners."
"Just look around you," the girl said suddenly. They all whirled as her knee slammed Captain Alisdair in the gut. He cursed vehemently as he hit the deck.
"Quite a mouth, Captain," she said. "I shall have to remember those." She revealed his sword, which she had managed to snatch when none of them was looking.
Pressing the blade to his neck, she announced, "Your ship and everything on it is now ours."
"How do you expect to fight us all off?" the first mate asked.
She smirked. "I've got friends too."
It was then that the pirates began swinging over. One tackled the first mate as they landed. Both grappled for control of the helm. Meanwhile, other pirates quickly overtook the rest of the crew. They were sailors and traders, not fighters. They were no match for the devils of the sea.
"Will someone hold this one!" the woman called to her pirates. "I'm rather bored doing so myself."
Seeing she was distracted, the Captain pushed her arm away. He leapt to his feet, knocking his sword from her hands. He caught it and brandished the blade at her.
"Never mind!" she called.
"Now who's the prisoner?" he asked. He tried to knock her legs out from under her, but she jumped back.
"Bad form," she snapped. He snorted.
"Is it form if only one of us has a sword?"
She smirked. "I suppose not." Dropping partially to the ground, she spun, knocking his feet out from under him. Alisdair could not see the rest of his crew, but hoped they were faring better than he was.
As he returned to his feet, he felt cold metal at the back of his neck.
"Don't move unless you want your blood spilled all over this deck," a male voice hissed, their breath sending a shiver down his spine.
"Why must you ruin all the fun?" the woman asked her companion.
"You needed my help," the pirate told her. "And it makes more fun for me."
The woman rolled her eyes and looked over the ship. She saw, as Alisdair now did, that her pirates had overcome the sailors easily. Alisdair needed some more competent companions. Not that he would live long enough to find them.
"Attention everyone!" she called, either unaware or not caring she already had everyone's unwavering attention. She continued, "We do not want all your money."
The man behind Alisdair said, "Why, Captain? It's royal money. Why not see how those Calarian elitists bear on scrapes like everyone else?"
"They will simply tax the people," she stated. "Besides, I do not think the rest of this money is ever going to reach the Calarians."
"Excuse me?" Alisdair asked.
Whirling around to face him, she replied, "Do you really wish to return to your precious Frost Weavers with only half their investments?"
Alisdair swallowed. Yes, they were certainly dead men, either by pirates' hands or by their own rulers.
She leaned forward. "I believe you just made a decision."
"Not quite," he responded.
Shrugging, she instructed her crew to find the money, which was presumably below deck. Alisdair realized they truly had everything planned out. He had been wrong. These were fine pirates indeed. That was, if pirates could really be considered fine at all.
Crewmembers hauled the sacks of money up the ladders. Alisdair grimaced as they sorted through it.
"Everyone take your fair share," the pirate captain ordered. When only the pirates bustled forth to loot the fortune, she frowned and added, "I said everyone. Savvy?"
To Alisdair's horror, his own crew began to steal from the reserve. Angrily, he exclaimed, "Has any of you any decency?"
The man at his back hissed, "You could have some too, you know."
"I would not want that money, even in proper circumstances."
"Have we found ourselves a good man?" the woman asked curiously. "I rather enjoy them." She sighed. "You shall do no good with the lifestyle we have pushed on you. "
She walked over to the money and lifted two sacks. He was amazed she could carry them.
Thrusting the money at him, she said, "There."
"I told you, I do not want it."
"Who picked your crew?"
"The Weavers assigned a crew and a ship."
"Good," she stated. "You are returning to Calarian."
"They will kill me, surely."
"He is better off away from them," the man behind him snapped. "And they are better off without their precious money."
"Shut up, Smiegal," the woman ordered. Smiegal obeyed. With a smirk, she told the captain, "They will not kill you after they hear the story you are going to tell them."
"Excuse me?"
She huffed exasperatedly. "Your crew betrayed you. The best you could do was save as much money as you could and maintain the ship. All of the rest of them got away in a rowboat; there was nothing you could do. It is a shame you were not able to sail all the way to West Sienna to make a fair trade with what you had left." She paused. "Although, if you find all of that deception too complicated, you could always just emigrate to one of the Siennas. I hear they are lovely this time of year."
Alisdair gritted his teeth.
"You and your men are monsters," he snarled at them. The woman snorted.
"I just tried to save your life, lad, and this is how you respond? Perhaps I should just sink this ship. Or leave it for my less generous kin. I wonder if the Flying Saints are in the area. We could invite them over. I haven't seen them in quite some time."
Alisdair's eyes widened. The barbaric pirates may have called themselves "saints", but it was far from the truth. When the Flying Saints attacked, no adult males survived. They kept women alive for other purposes, until they raided the next ship. The children they took to Ebony, where they were often trained as criminals themselves.
"Never mind," Alisdair stated, thinking of what his fate might be in their hands.
"Good." She smirked. "It's time to go!"
The pirates moved back to their ropes.
"Good luck with your crew," the woman told him.
"I do not want your luck," he spat back.
She did not reply. The Captain grabbed her own rope and swung over to her ship. She called back, "Then you best start making your own, because it is all you have."
Alisdair stared as she steered her ship away. It occurred to him that he could fire on them, quite easily, in fact. He was also rather certain their vessel could outgun him. Then he truly would be dead.
So he watched as they sailed away, and his crew left with their money and lifeboats.
He knew the pirates were right. He had a decision to make.
On the Jolly Roger, Ashen stared out at sea as their ship grew closer to Ebony. A few days and she would be home once more.
She still missed her sword. If she had still had it, Alisdair would not have gotten the drop on her. The plan had worked well enough, though. It always did.
Sighing, she glanced behind her. Sure enough, Smiegal stood, leaning against the wall.
"No matter how much you hate royalty, that man was innocent," she stated.
Crossing his arms, he replied, "He worked for them. And it was their money."
"The Frost Weavers are not even nobility."
"Worse; they're dictators. They're terrible to their people."
"Not our call to make."
"What are we doing, then?" he asked. "Your stepfather is King of Azure; you know what these people are capable of. Did you really just kill Emlen because of Arrow?"
She tensed. Paling, he said, "I'm sorry. I crossed a line."
"You did," she acknowledged. She took a deep breath. "Make sure everything is ready for Ebony."
"Aye, Captain."
"And Smiegal?"
"Yes?"
She bit her lip. "Never think that what those people do does not hurt me. It's just is not our place to do anything. We owe those people nothing."
"Yes, Captain."
Ashen returned her attention back to the helm. She heard his footsteps and knew he was doing as she ordered. Fingers tightening, she tried not to think of her mother. Or Emlen.
That proved difficult. But if it was easy, then more murders would happen, and no one would care about anything.
Like her father.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. The past three weeks had been much like the past six years. She had expected more of a change after she avenged her mother. It seemed it would take more than a murder to bring him back.
If only she knew what he did need.