Draen's PoV
My eyebrows shoot up when I hear it. A slaver ship now approaches us the night after we went through a raid. The crew looks tired, Astoria looks exhausted, I know I'm still not recovered from it. However, Astoria still plans to meet the ship head on for a fight. I admire her courage or maybe her idiocy.
We are now facing the direction of the slaver ship. Astoria sets us full speed ahead and clips her blue mask into place already. I put mine on around my neck this morning and now clip it up. I keep my eyes glued to the fast approaching ship. Astoria's hands grip the wheel with white knuckles and she glowers at the white sails. As we charge forward, I notice the sails of the slaver ship have black streaks running down their sails. Like a great beast clawed them, raking big gashes in the sails. The gap between our two ships closes at a rapid rate and the captain of the WindFlyer shouts over the sounds of the preparing crew. Her voice cold and cruel.
"I want the leader brought to me. Alive," she bites out with a steeled tone. The closer we get to the slaver ship, the quieter the crew becomes. There is a tension in the air, a near excitement, so thick I feel I could cut it with a knife. Astoria cracks her knuckles and rolls her wrists. Andreas draws his sword and grips a rope tightly, ready to swing over. Ren rolls her neck and bears her metal teeth in a feral grin. I glance up at the mast, Sam is perched in the lookout nest, his head cocked like a bird watching their prey. The new boy, Kako, dances from foot to foot, his eyes wide and a pistol in hand. The crew has their masks in place, looking every part like the nightmarish crew legends are told about.
"Ready cannons," Astoria says. She doesn't yell it, merely speaking in a conversational volume. Two crew members disappear below deck to carry out the order. I place a hand on the hilt of my sword. It feels too soon that we are next to the slaver ship. We should have had more time to prepare. We aren't ready, we can't possibly be ready in so little time. My heart rate starts to increase and my breathing picks up. I feel my palms start to get slick, I lick the salt from my lips as my eyes dart about. I feel I hand on my arm and I jump a little. Astoria looks at me with a reassuring nod. I try and return her confidence but I can't seem to manage it.
She maintains eye contact with me as she raises her pistol. I hear it cock and then fire. Then a body splashes into the water. That must have been the signal her crew was waiting for because they bellow a battle cry and begin swinging over to the enemy ship. Astoria tears her eyes from mine and looks accros the way. I follow her gaze and watch as the bloodletting occurs. Great planks are slid between the ships to facilitate running amide the ships. Crew members, men and women alike from Astoria's ship, cut down their foes. I watch as one of the slavers slices the throat of one of our own and grimace.
Astoria ties up the wheel to keep us in place before she darts across a plank connecting the two ships. With one last look around, I follow soon after her. The plank seems much more narrow as I run along it and the drip seems much further down. I force myself to keep going, one step after the other until I've made it. With a deep breath, I draw my sword and leap into the fray.
To say that the raid last night was chaotic would be a good descriptor, but if that was chaotic then this must be chaos manifested in a physical form. The deck is slick with blood of both friends and foe, but I can hardly tell who is friend and who is foe now. The only indicator being the blue masks the WindFlyer's crew wear. I hear someone yell and spin on my heel to see a man charging at me with his sword raised. I quickly meet him with my sword, my arms jarring on impact. I grunt as I push against him. I jump back as his legs attempts to sweep out my own. Slashing my sword at him, I knick the manda arm before he dodges. The man bellows in rage as he charges me again. I dance back, coming in contact with the railing as I do. I duck under his arm and aim a hit at his stomach as I pass but the brute block both. The ship suddenly dips with the waves and i lose my footing on the wet deck. I fall, crashing down on the floor, the impact causing me to lose hold of my sword and it goes sliding across the wood. I bring my hand up and notice it coated red with blood. Not my blood, there is so much blood. It's everywhere. Sticky, warm blood. I force the bile rising in my throat back down. A shadow falls over me, I look up to the slaver I had been fighting looming above. A cruel smile plays on his lips as his raises his arm to sever my head. I try and think. Try and find a way out of this, but with my sword too far I have no defense.
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.