Daughter of the Pirate King

by Tricia Levenseller

  The deck is nearly empty when I get up top. There might be a couple of men leaning against the railing near the bow of the ship. I wonder if Riden merely exaggerated the number of men who would be guarding the ship or if some of the pirates abandoned their posts. Being left behind is never a pirate’s first choice when there’s gold to be spent.

  I can see the shore ahead. It’s not far, but I still need a boat.

  “Abandoning your mission?” a voice asks me from behind.

  I spin around and find Theris standing casually, a coin between two of his knuckles. Glancing over at the bow of the ship, I note that the other men on deck haven’t noticed me yet.

  “I have business on land,” I say quickly.

  “Did you finish what you were sent here to do, then?”

  It’s a struggle to keep my voice quiet when all I want to do is lash at him. “No—not that it’s any of your business. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “I have my orders, and making you part of my business is one of them.”

  Blast my father. Can he not trust me to do this alone? “That’s nice, but I don’t need or want your help, so stay out of my way.”

  “I’ll do better than that. I’ll distract the men so you can go ashore without being noticed.”

  “That’s not necessary—”

  “I’ll do it anyway.”

  I glance heavenward. Then I reach for the pulley to lower down a rowboat.

  “You’re not going to swim it?” Theris asks.

  I look over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes. “Why would I?”

  “I would have thought it would be easier for you. Is it not?”

  Just what does he know or think he knows about me? How much did Father tell him?

  “I thought you were distracting the men for me.”

  “And I thought you didn’t need my help.”

  I ignore him once I hear the light splash of the boat connecting with the sea. His footsteps finally recede as I lower myself down with another rope. Putting Theris out of my mind, I start rowing. ’Tis not my favorite activity. When going ashore with my crew, I always make someone else do it.

  Such are the privileges of being captain.

  Can’t be more than a few minutes when I reach shore. It’s night, and no one is patrolling the dock. Good thing, because I haven’t any money on me.

  Not that I can’t just procure some. But that takes time and a little planning.

  I pull my coat around me more tightly. The night air is brisk, as is typical during the fall. Some of Maneria’s more southern isles experience warm temperatures year-round, but here in the northeast, the winds and waters are always cold, save when it is the heart of summer.

  I travel farther inland, trying to get a sense of where I am. I know that when I was taken, I was over a two days’ ride from the south side of Naula. We’ve been on the sea for only about seven days. We could have just gone around to the other side of the isle. Clever, that. Most would assume that after a kidnapping, the perpetrators would want to get as far away as possible from where the crime took place.

  Word must have gotten around to my father that I succeeded in getting aboard the Night Farer. I’m sure he’ll want a report soon. I might as well write him now since I’m on land. Who knows when I’ll have such an opportunity again? Besides, it’s best to wait awhile before I let the pirates catch me attempting to “escape.” Can’t make it seem like I got away too easily.

  I didn’t want to let Theris turn me in. I know the whole point of this little side venture is getting caught, but letting Theris do it would feel like using his help. And I won’t be doing that.

  I continue heading inland. There will be someone working for my father in the pirate quarter of town. There always is. Father has a man in each major port city in all the Seventeen Isles. The trick will be figuring out who he is. I can use the signal that men in my father’s employ exchange. But how I’ll be able to signal my father’s man without getting caught by all the pirates from Draxen’s crew, who are also likely to be there, first will be the tricky bit.

  As I walk the city streets, I start to feel a tingling at the back of my neck.

  I’m being followed.

  Is it a member of Draxen’s crew? I would hate to be caught already. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if Father didn’t receive a letter from me.

  So long as it’s not Theris trying to keep an eye out for me. I will start retaliating with violence if he becomes too meddlesome.

  I look behind me casually, as if I’m only observing the night sky or something else that’s caught my fancy. There is definitely a figure in the shadows. Maybe more than one.

  We’re stopped between two town homes. I’m not on the street, just a grassy area that separates the two houses. The grass is wet, softened by the rainfall over the last several days. I’ve no weapons on me, save the dagger in my boot.

  There can’t be too many of them, otherwise I would have spotted them earlier. It’s likely that I can take them. Might as well risk it.

  I pat my pockets, as though I realize I’ve just forgotten something. I spin around in the wet grass, making a light squeaking noise with my boots. This emphasizes my casualness. I’m not trying to be quiet. My followers won’t think I’ve found them out.

  I start walking back in the direction I came from. When I reach the corners of both homes, I leap forward into the shadows on the left. Right where the sparse moonlight is blocked by the roof of the home there.

  “Ah!” a woman’s voice calls out. I put my hands to her mouth, stopping the cry. We can’t have everyone in this part of town waking and spotting us.

  “Mandsy, is that you?” I ask.

  “Hello, Captain.”

  I sigh and look heavenward, though no one can see the motion. “All right. Come out. All of you.”

  There are three of them—the three members from my crew who I saw not long ago: Mandsy, Zimah, and Sorinda. I’m relieved they made it safely to land, but I don’t let it show.

  “I told you she was going to see you,” Zimah says to Mandsy. “You’re terrible at staying hidden. And quiet.” She meets my gaze for only a moment before looking at the ground, ashamed to have been caught on land when they’re supposed to be on the ship.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “We’ve been following you,” Mandsy says, smiling widely. Her teeth shine now that she’s stepped into the moonlight. “Zimah has been tracking you. We were worried, Captain. Just wanted to make sure you’re all right. I hate the thought of you being stuck on board with that lot.”

  “As you can see,” I say, “I’m fine. Really, this was reckless of you. What if you were seen by Draxen’s men? You could have blown my cover.”

  “We were careful. No one spotted us, what with Zimah here.”

  “I spotted you.”

  “That’s because we weren’t trying too hard to hide from you,” Zimah says defensively, as though her skills are being brought into question. “We wanted to talk with you. Ship’s lonely without you, Captain.”

  I can’t help but smile. “I suppose I should have expected this from you two. But, Sorinda, what in all the seas of Maneria are you doing here?”

  Quiet as death, Sorinda finally speaks. “Niridia ordered me to come with them.”

  Sorinda is the best swordswoman on my crew. She’s an excellent killer. And since she’s been in my crew, an excellent protector as well.

  “Which means that Niridia’s with the ship nearby?” Niridia is my first mate and trusted confidant. I made her temporary captain of my ship while I went on my mission aboard the Night Farer.

  “Aye.”

  I put my head in my hands. “I’m perfectly fine. You’re all being careless.”

  “What’s it like, Captain?” Mandsy asks. “Being on that pirate lord’s ship? Are they treating you well? No one’s laid hands on you, have they?”

  “No,” I lie. “And there will be plenty of time for storytelling later. For n
ow you’re to report back to the Ava-lee. And you tell Niridia that I order her to take the ship to the checkpoint and wait for me there. No more following me. I mean it.” I look each one squarely in the eyes. Mandsy nods feebly while Zimah looks disappointed. Sorinda looks as though she really couldn’t care either way. But she always wears that face.

  “Aye, Captain,” Mandsy says on a sigh, “but what are you doing here anyway? Why aren’t you on the ship? Is there something we can help with?” She can’t hide the eagerness and enthusiasm in her voice. That’s Mands. Always optimistic and ready to help. Drives the rest of the crew bloody insane sometimes.

  “No, I’m f— Wait. Actually, you can. I need to get a message to my father.”

  “What is it?” Zimah asks. She has a perfect memory. She can recite back to me minutes of overheard conversation at a time.

  “Tell him our plans for getting me on board the Night Farer went perfectly. I’ve begun my search for the map. No one suspects me. It’s my belief that Draxen doesn’t even know the map is aboard his ship, since he doesn’t hide it in his quarters. Searching the rest of the ship shouldn’t take me long. Be ready at the checkpoint. I’ll bring the ship to him soon.”

  “Got it,” Zimah says. “Anything you’d like us to pass along to the crew?”

  “Tell them I miss them all, and I’ll be home shortly.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Mandsy says.

  “Yes, yes, now go. And be quick about it.”

  “Aye,” they say at once, and hurry back toward the shore.

  Part of me wishes I could go with them. Another part is still eager for the hunt, for the game of finding the map. I long for the victory of finding something so important for my father. He will be quite pleased when I return.

  And I am pleased that getting word to my father became easier than I expected.

  Now I get to skip ahead to the getting caught part. Should be simple enough once I find Draxen’s crew. The difficult bit will be making it look like an accident. They’ll surely be suspicious if I simply hand myself over to them. The last thing I need is Riden getting more curious about my intent. I’m not too worried, but I’m also not careless. I may have lied to my father in my message about no one being suspicious of me, but Riden is simple enough to deal with. Father doesn’t need to know about him.

  I pass by the large estates where the rich live, and have to stomp out the urge to go snooping around their valuables. For one, they’ll have many men inside, guarding their riches from all the pirates currently at this port. (Thanks to my father’s regime, there are always several crews in each port city, stopping to spend their plunder.) Such discouragement has no effect on me, save that I know the steal will take more time and planning, which I don’t have.

  And secondly, I wouldn’t have a place to hide such valuables after I took them. Riden would be sure to notice and steal a new gem from around my neck.

  Eventually I make it to the raucous section of town, the one that wakes once the rest of the city sleeps. You can tell it’s for the more unsavory sort, because it’s so very loud. Music pours out the windows onto the streets. Gunshots sound. Men and women laugh. Tables overturn. The streets are filled with the light of lanterns.

  Any crime at all can be committed here, and the law of the land cannot touch us. It’s part of the deal my father has with the land monarch. The pirates get a district on land, free from the burdens of the law, and my father won’t blow excavating ships out of the water.

  I know instantly when I’m in the right place. There’s a tavern on one side of the street, a whorehouse on the other. This is where most pirates go to spend all their spoils. They are men of simple pleasures. I, too, enjoy a good flask of rum from time to time, but I also take pleasure in longer-lasting rewards. I spend my earnings on good clothing and face paint. Appearance is important. I pay for information on big players on different islands. I enjoy meeting new people and learning their stories. The really interesting ones become members of my crew. But ultimately I always seek to win my father’s approval, to solidify myself as his heir and become the queen of sea thieves. I can’t imagine anything more fun than humbling stuffy land nobles as they cross the ocean. My ocean.

  I approach the tavern first, since the men at the whorehouse are far less likely to notice me while engaged in their activities. Now, how to get caught without making it too obvious?

  I go around to the side of the tavern and peer through a grime-covered window. It’s packed, and I can see several members of Draxen’s crew. They sit at tables, drinking and gambling and talking. I note that Draxen himself is not here. He’s probably over at the whorehouse. Riden must be over there, too— Wait, Riden’s in here.

  I spot him in the back, at a table with a bunch of men. He has one hand full of cards, while the other is draped around some woman seated on his lap.

  A snort escapes me. And he said he didn’t pay for female companionship. Although—I squint, getting closer to the window without actually touching it. She’s not dressed like a whore. Her face isn’t extravagantly painted—

  The tavern doors groan as they open wide. Stars, I should have been paying attention to the door.

  A body comes walking around to the side of the tavern where I stand. After a few moments, I recognize it as Kearan.

  Perhaps walking had been too generous of a term. Stumbling’s more like it. The big oaf zigzags right past me. Then he stops, bracing himself against the wall.

  Time to act.

  I pinch my cheeks to bring red to them. I flick my head downward, rumpling my hair. Adding a slight tremor to my whole person, I rush forward, leaning against the wall right next to him.

  “Kearan. You have to help me. Please. Help me get away from here.”

  He turns his head slightly in my direction but says nothing.

  “Please,” I say again. “I know deep down you’re not a bad man. Please get me out of here.”

  My intention is for him to assume I misplaced my trust. He’s supposed to haul me back to the ship.

  Instead he vomits and collapses to the ground.

  I shouldn’t be surprised.

  That’s when I’m grabbed from behind. Oh, excellent! I was worried I’d have to—

  I feel hot breath at my ear. It smells of rum. The chest at my back rises and falls rapidly. Then my hair stands on end as a wet tongue starts at the corner of my chin and rises up my cheek.

  Stars, it’s Sheck.

  Why does he have to be the one to catch me?

  He’s got both arms around me, holding my own arms flat against my sides. I wait for him to turn me around, to carry me over to Riden or Draxen. But he does no such thing.

  He shoves me against the wall of the tavern. I feel a hand at my lower back, dipping lower.

  Sheck has no intention of taking me back to Riden—not right away, at least. And I have no intention of waiting around until he’s ready.

  “You’re going to want to let go of me now,” I say, giving him a chance to walk away, even though he doesn’t deserve one.

  He doesn’t speak. And why should he? He’s more beast than man.

  I hop into the air and press my feet flat against the wall, giving it a good push. Sheck tries to catch himself. But his choices are to let go of me or fall on his arse.

  Surprisingly, he chooses the second.

  My body is not enough weight to knock the breath from him, but I’m sure the fall had to hurt. I take some comfort in this.

  I try to roll away from him, but his grip is too tight. I can tell he’s done this many, many times before.

  The thought spurs me on. I bring my head up as high as it will go, straining my neck. Then I send it flying backward. I can feel his nose connect with the back of my head in a loud crunch.

  That is what finally prompts him to loosen his hold.

  I stand an instant later, but before I can take a step, Sheck wraps a hand around my ankle.

  I turn and kick him in the face with my free foot.


  His face is a bloody mess now. I cannot make out his nose, eyes, or mouth. He can’t still be feeling the heat of desire in his condition, can he? I hope not, but I have to assume the worst of people in my line of work. Besides, some men get a reaction from pain. Sheck is likely one of those.

  Kearan moans from where he lies on the ground, passed out in his own vomit. He smells nastier than Sheck. But I don’t need to touch him, just the grip of his sword. I could grab the dagger from my boot, but using it at this point requires close contact, and I don’t want to be near Sheck ever again.

  I hear a growl from behind me. It’s the first sound I’ve ever heard Sheck mutter. It’s an ugly, foul sound that makes me want to run, but I’ve fought that impulse my whole life. I’ve had to. It’s been the only way to impress my father.

  Besides, this man deserves to die, and I’ll gladly be the one to do it. I grab the cutlass and turn. Sheck doesn’t have his sword drawn. He’s probably not used to women fighting rather than trying to run away.

  I don’t think he even notices there’s a weapon in my hand until I stab him in the stomach with it. He cries out, still moving. It’s not half the pain he deserves for the type of life he’s lived, but it’s enough to make me feel a little better. I don’t wait more than a couple of heartbeats before dislodging the weapon and stabbing again, this time higher, toward his heart. He tries to squirm under its weight, but that only makes his blood run out all the more faster. He’s dead in seconds.

  I take a few deep breaths before setting the sword beside Kearan. One less monster in the world.

  But I still need to get caught. It should not be this difficult to stay a prisoner on a pirate ship. This is the second time I’ve had to stage my own capture. Ridiculous.

  I turn toward the tavern, wondering how I’m to get someone inside to catch me without making it look too obvious, when I notice someone standing in the opening between the tavern and the next building over.

  It’s Riden.

  Chapter 7

  HIS ARMS ARE CROSSED, one leg hooked over the other.

  I suppose I should run now to make it look like I’m trying to escape, but why bother?