Daughter of the Pirate King

by Tricia Levenseller

  I turn toward him fully. “When I get out of this, I’m going to grab my crew and hunt you all down. I will not stop until every pirate on this ship is dead.”

  “We’re all trembling with fear.”

  “You should be. I’ve some of the best trackers in the world aboard my vessel.” My heart warms with pride to think of Zimah.

  “Are they fiery redheads as well?”

  “No.”

  “Shame. Now, let’s go. You don’t want to be late.”

  “Late for what?”

  Riden leads me outside. Naula is now far in the distance, a mere speck on the horizon. I wonder what our next destination could be.

  The men are everywhere, scrubbing and mopping at the deck. Moving cargo around. Seeing to the sails. Draxen stands near the helm, overseeing the navigation. He has his hands at his belt, feet spread apart, ever-present sneer on his face. He looks down.

  “Ah, princess, how are you enjoying your stay?”

  I’m tempted to spit on the deck, but I don’t spit. That’s disgusting. “Just fine, Captain. But I’m more excited about what will come after my stay.”

  “Yes, I’m sure we’ll hear plenty more death threats from you today. For now, get to your duties.”

  “Duties?” I ask, looking between him and Riden.

  “You’ll be assisting the crew with swabbing the deck,” Riden explains.

  “Ha. I think not.”

  “You’ve proven you can’t be left alone. For various reasons.” I can tell his mind drifts to his ransacked room. “And I’ll not have you being a nuisance, following me about. You’ll make yourself useful.”

  “And just how do you intend to make me?”

  “Liomen?”

  “Aye, Master Riden?” a voice calls from a ways off.

  “Bring me a rope and hook.”

  “Yes, sir,” the voice answers with merriment.

  I know exactly what that means, but the prospect doesn’t trouble me. Such hooks can be hung down from many places on the ship’s masts, and they attach nicely to the chains stringing together manacles.

  After a while, a hook is lowered from up above. Riden places it through one of the middle chains on the shackles I wear.

  He hesitates a moment, as if he’s waiting for me to give in. To agree to the work so he can take the hook away.

  But I say nothing. I even glance away from him, as though I couldn’t be bothered to look at him.

  “Hoist her away,” Riden finally says, a note of eagerness in his voice. All his hesitation seems to have vanished.

  I can’t tell which is the show: Is it the hesitation for me or the eagerness for Draxen? Maybe both. Maybe neither. I can’t tell with him. He seems to go back and forth frequently, as though he isn’t sure what he wants himself. Is he trying to prove himself to his brother in some way? But why should he need to? Especially if his brother loves him unconditionally, as Riden claims.

  Perhaps Riden can’t admit the truth even to himself.

  I grip the chains on either side, just above the cuffs around my wrists. If I let the full weight of my body pull on my wrists, the metal would bite into my skin, and it would hurt. A lot. It’s best to take the weight on my tightened fists.

  Riden isn’t blinking. Draxen watches the spectacle with interest. The pirates are all eager. They want some sort of show? I’ll give them one.

  Instead of allowing this Liomen to get me up into the air, I give the rope a good tug before my feet get even close to being off the ground.

  Liomen, either not expecting it or unable to stop it, falls from the mainmast. A few pirates duck out of the way just before Liomen hits the deck, cutting off his scream.

  There’s moaning. He probably broke one or both of his arms. Maybe a leg. Hard to say when someone’s falling so quickly.

  Some pirates laugh. Others, who must be his friends, surround him.

  His moans quickly turn to cursing as a stream of obscenities are directed at me.

  I don’t blame the lad. I would curse, too, if I were in his position.

  Draxen descends from the upper deck, getting level with me. He looks at me closely before calling out the names of three more pirates. “Get the lot of you to the mast. I want her off the ground. Now!”

  They climb quickly, hurrying to follow orders. I wait, bored. If there’s a fault with these pirates, it’s surely their simplemindedness.

  The three men get to the top. They’re very careful, wrapping the rope around their wrists several times before tugging me up. I don’t bother to try to yank them down. It would involve more theatrics on my part.

  Not that I’m opposed to theatrics. I just have something better in mind.

  They stop when I’m five feet off the ground. Then they tie off the rope while I hang, clinging to my chains. A spectacle for all the pirates. They stole me. I am a prize to them, clearly strung for all to see.

  But I’m also stronger than they’re used to seeing.

  Draxen gets close enough to see my face clearly. “You killed one of my finest men yesterday. I should let Ulgin have you. But it won’t do to have the pirate king’s daughter unidentifiable once we swap you for the ransom. This will have to do.”

  I ignore him, focus only on the three pirates descending to the ground. I wait for them to mold back into the crowd to ensure they can’t beat me to the top.

  I needn’t have worried. Everyone’s too stunned to do anything once I start climbing.

  “Oi, she can’t do that,” one pirate exclaims.

  I don’t bother to look down at them; I focus on the movements of my arms. One hand over the other, relax, pull. Other hand, relax, pull. The chain length doesn’t allow me to gain much rope with each pull, but it is enough. I can still climb.

  And I do, all the way to the top. I hitch a leg over the rounded wooden beam that rests below the sail. Then I sit, straddling the wood. I’m not even breathing hard. If only I could think of a brilliant plan for getting the chains off. But I’ve got nothing to work with from up here.

  “Bring her down,” Draxen calls, face red—not that I can see it clearly, but it’s fun to imagine it all red and puffy, fuming with anger.

  More and more men start to climb up the mast. But I’ve no intention of letting any pirate touch me. So I start to climb back down.

  I stop when I’m halfway down the rope. The pirates hesitate at the top, no one seems to want to climb down and join me.

  Riden steps up to Draxen, puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Alosa!” Riden shouts. “Come all the way down, or I’ll order the rope cut.”

  I sigh and roll my eyes. Riden, Riden. It’s sad, really, that they all have to try so hard to make me behave.

  I do as he says, though. I’ve no intention of gaining breaks or bruises.

  I just really don’t want to clean the deck.

  Hanging at the end of the rope, I wait. It’s the only trick I have left. It’s moments such as these when I’m truly grateful for my father’s blasted endurance tests. They made me strong. They made me aware of how much I can handle.

  And no one has ever been able to outlast me at holding up their own body weight.

  Minutes pass and still I hang. Everyone watches, waiting for me to sag from exhaustion. Curious to see how long I’ll be at this.

  Riden coughs. “Captain, perhaps the men should get back to work while the princess suffers her punishment.”

  “Aye,” Draxen says.

  “You heard the captain. Back to your positions. Get on with it. Who knows? She might still be conscious when you’re done.”

  The men laugh as they scatter to different areas of the ship. The muscles in my arms and stomach start to sting.

  At least I don’t have so much of an audience now. It’s mostly Riden and Draxen. Draxen looks on with satisfaction. And Riden—Riden looks … I cannot tell. He just looks.

  The sun moves in the sky. The wind changes direction. My body begins to tremble. It’s hard to breathe.

 
And then I can’t take it anymore. I drop myself. The iron pinches at my skin, digs into my bones. It hurts like hell, but I’ll not utter a word of complaint. Even if I agreed to clean, the captain would only keep me up here now. He wants me to suffer for what happened to Sheck. I can see it in his eyes. There will be no relief for quite some time.

  Eventually Riden and the captain move on. They have duties to perform as well. I think they’re consulting in the captain’s quarters now. It’s difficult to tell. Turning my head involves too much effort.

  “Miss Alosa,” a voice whispers.

  “Yes, Enwen? Can I help you with something?”

  He smiles, knowing very well I can’t do anything for him in my present condition. “It would take a hurricane to dampen your spirits, lass. I have something for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “The siren bracelet. I bought it from Belor after we woke up from the conk to the head you gave us.”

  “I’m really sorry about that.”

  “You already apologized, miss. Remember? No harm in trying to fight for your freedom. ’Tis a noble cause. I can’t fault you. Would’ve done the same thing. Now, here.”

  He ties the leather string to my ankle.

  “That’s a bootlace, Enwen.”

  “Maybe so. Maybe not so. Important thing is that you have it anyway.”

  “Why would you give me something you bought for yourself?”

  “I stole some of your hair. And I had to be your prison guard. Kidnapping and mistreating women is not why I became a pirate. I’m a proper thief and good with a knife. Nothing more. It don’t sit right with me what we’re doing to Your Highness. Besides, I’ll steal the coins back from Belor tonight.”

  He steps closer and whispers so softly now that I can barely hear him. “And between you and me, the men were laughing at me something fierce. The only thing that bracelet brought me was mockery.”

  “Hmm. Then I think its powers were working on me before you tied it on me.”

  “No, no, Miss Alosa. I already thought of that. This token is a bracelet. Bracelets are for women. It’ll bring you protection from the sea but not me.”

  I laugh softly. “Thanks, then, Enwen.”

  “’Tis a pleasure, miss. Be seeing you around.”

  Blood starts to slide down my arms. Bah, now my clothes are stained.

  Every once in a while, I’ll start to regain my strength enough to pull the pressure off my wrists for a brief moment. But always I end up back where I am, dangling above a ship full of barbarians. Except for Enwen.

  Maybe Kearan, too. He hoists a flask up in the air, a question in the gesture. My returning look must be something like, How exactly would I drink that from up here?

  He shrugs and downs the rum himself. I suppose it is the thought that counts.

  At one point, I spot Theris through the mass of working pirates. He glances up at me a couple of times. It’s not sympathy or worry on his face, but curiosity. Like all the other pirates, he’s probably wondering what insane thing I’ll do next.

  All I can wonder is when the pain will go away.

  The truly agonizing thing is that I could free myself. If I didn’t have to hide what I can do, I could get out of this in no time. But I need to stay on this ship longer. I can’t give myself away.

  After a while, it becomes hard to think. Hard to see. Hard to swallow. Everything goes hazy. People become blurry shapes. I try to look beyond the ship, straining into the distance. Just as there is a destination far beyond this one, there will be a time far beyond this one when there won’t be any pain, just the memory of it. As I try to hold that in my mind, I think I see a black blur on the horizon. A ship. But once I blink, it’s gone.

  It isn’t until it’s time for everyone to retire to their beds that I am finally released.

  “Cut the rope,” Draxen commands.

  After a day without food or water or solid ground, my whole body is too weak. Even my legs. I cannot catch myself. So I fall onto my back.

  “Upon your next mistake, princess, I will have you dangling by your feet. We shall see how long it takes for the blood to make your head explode. Get her out of my sight, Riden.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Try not to have too much fun with her while she’s staying in your room. Can’t have her in a bad condition when we meet the pirate king.”

  “She’ll be safe with me.”

  “Off with you, then.”

  Riden scoops me up in one smooth movement. Somehow he manages not to make anything hurt more than it already does. He’s very gentle with me, holding me close to his chest. I think I’d rather have my head dragged on the ground, but I haven’t the power to move.

  He carries me into his room, shuts the door, and lays me on the bed. An instant later the manacles are off, and I gasp at the pain the removal causes.

  “Shh,” Riden says soothingly. “I know, Alosa. Just a moment. I’ll put something on that. Stay here for now.”

  Where would I go? I can’t move.

  He’s drifting around the room, looking for something. “This would be easier if you hadn’t moved and broken everything.”

  I open my mouth, but I think something similar to a croak rather than words comes out.

  “What was that?” Riden asks.

  I cough and try again. “I think I remember kicking something under the bed.”

  He sighs before dropping down to his knees.

  “Here’s something, I think,” he says.

  The bed dips as he sits on it. He puts his hands under my arms and hauls me up.

  I hiss through my teeth.

  “Sorry. Almost there.”

  I’m sitting in his lap, my back pressed against his chest. His head cranes around my neck to see my hands while he puts some sort of salve on them.

  “Oh.” I sigh in contentment.

  “Bet that feels better.”

  He lets the salve stay on my wrists for a few minutes before applying some more. Then he wraps bandages over my raw, ripped skin.

  I try to think only about breathing. Not the pain or ache. Just breathe. Riden’s done. Yet he continues to sit here, holding me. It’s quiet for some time.

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea he’d let you hang for so long.”

  “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who suggested hoisting me up there.”

  “It was a means of persuading you to do as the captain wanted. I expected you to agree to the chores before the rope was even hung. You weren’t supposed to be stubborn.”

  “You should have known better,” I say.

  “Yes, I should have. I’m truly sorry.”

  For some reason his apology frustrates me. Levelly, I say, “If you’re sorry, that means you want forgiveness. Is that what you’re asking for?”

  He’s silent. I speak again before he can answer. “If you want forgiveness, that means you want to make things right. And if you want to make things right, that means that you don’t intend to put me in harm’s way again. So, if you are saying you’re sorry, I don’t think you understand what that entails.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” he says.

  “Of course you had a choice, Riden. You just had a hard one. And you chose the easy option, which was to do nothing.”

  “Easy? Do you think it was easy for me to watch you? Seeing you up there, knowing the pain you must be in, it … it made me feel—it would have hurt less if I had been the one hanging. I hated myself for what happened. And the only way I could punish myself was to force myself to watch you in pain. That was my punishment.”

  Riden starts stroking my hair. I’m tempted to let the conversation drop, to sink farther into his embrace and sleep. But despite how he’s taking care of me now, I’m still furious with him.

  “What a nice sentiment,” I say. “But words only mean something when backed up with actions. Even if all you say is true, you’re too cowardly to ever do what you want to do. And it seems to me that until you break away
from your brother, you won’t be able to do anything at all.”

  The hand at my hair stills. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re serving a tyrant, a man who basically has control over the entire world. We’re pirates. Not politicians. Our sort weren’t meant to rule. There needs to be order so we can disrupt it. If there’s no order in the first place, then where does that leave us? The world has changed in recent years. And you’ve chosen to help it change. Not for the better. Our choices are to die out or join the pirate king. Why do you serve Kalligan? So that Papa will love you?”

  “You don’t know anything about me or my father. You should stop pretending otherwise. Now, let me go.” I try to pull away, but he holds me more securely.

  “No.”

  “Let me go. I don’t want you touching me. You disgust me.”

  “Lass, you’re too weak to force me. Let me take care of you for now. It’s all I can do for you, so let me do it. You may think you have me all figured out, but you don’t. I’ve got my own reasons for wanting Draxen to succeed. We need you. It’s for the best. Letting you dangle over the deck never should have happened. I will do what I can to ensure your safety, if you can promise to stop being so damn stubborn.”

  I don’t want to talk to him anymore, so I pretend to be asleep.

  He huffs quietly. “Might as well tell a fish not to swim.”

  Chapter 10

  FOR THE SECOND TIME I awake in Riden’s arms.

  He’s still asleep, and I like that I’m allowed to stare at his face for as long as I want. Full lips, straight nose, a scar that recedes into his hairline on the left side of his face. That must have been quite the hit to the head. I wonder if his father did it. Riden never seems to want to talk about his father. Might be because of how his father treated him, or it might be because Riden killed him. Maybe both.

  He stirs then. I quickly look down at my wrists so as not to be caught staring. Suddenly, I’m overcome with the urge to rip the bandages off.

  Riden’s hand shoots out, grasping right below the injury on my right wrist. “Not yet. Keep those bandages on. You need to keep your wounds clean for a while.”

  “It itches something fierce.”