Daughter of the Pirate King

by Tricia Levenseller

  “I know, and it will only get worse, but you mustn’t scratch.”

  “And I suppose you’ve had to wear manacles before?”

  “Everyone on the ship has.”

  “At the same time?” I clarify. His response is a little unusual, full of bitterness and regret.

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  Riden’s hand is still on my arm. He’s taken to stroking my skin with his fingertips. I don’t stop him because it makes the itching subside.

  “I’ll tell you what, Alosa. I’ll offer you a story in exchange for a story.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about your scars.”

  “That’s many stories.”

  “But I’m sure you can give me something.”

  “I suppose I could, but you first.”

  Riden thinks for a moment. He props his head up with his free hand, the other still tracing my skin. “All right. I trust you. I’ll go first.”

  He trusts me? What exactly is that supposed to mean? Is he a fool? I’ve given him no reason to trust me. It’s more likely he feels obligated to go first, what with yesterday’s events and all.

  There are many kinds of pirates, but Riden is the first I’ve met who feels remorse for his pirating. Perhaps that’s why I find him so interesting. He treats me better than any other pirate would a prisoner, I’m sure.

  “About a year prior,” Riden starts, “my father, Lord Jeskor, was still in command of this ship. Draxen and I had been living on the Night Farer practically our whole lives. I’m sure you can relate. Pirate lords need sons to pass their legacy on to. Or, in your case, a daughter. Peculiar, that one. You’ll have to explain to me someday how that all started out.”

  “No, I don’t,” I say.

  He smiles. “I suppose you don’t, but I’d be curious to know.”

  “Your story?”

  “Right. Well, many of us on the ship are the sons of the original crewmen. Others are young thieves and murderers who we picked up along the way. We put together a crew after the ship was ours.”

  “And how did the ship become yours? Where do the irons come in?”

  He puts a finger to my lips. “Shh. I’m getting to that part. You can be downright impatient sometimes.”

  I frown under the pressure of his finger. He removes it and sets it on the bed.

  “My father had become careless. He and his men spent far too much time on land and less time on the sea, pirating. They were lazy, drunk, loud—all the time. We, their sons and fellow crew members, were all but forgotten. So we decided to try to take the ship from them.”

  I raise a brow in disbelief. “You expect me to believe your father, a pirate lord, became lazy, and that motivated you all to take the ship?”

  “You know what it’s like to be raised by pirates—I’ve seen your scars. Ours are less visible. They barely fed us. They gave us the more dangerous jobs during our robbing and plundering. We were beaten whenever they got bored, which was quite regularly. Finally, we’d had enough. And we tried to take the ship.”

  “And you failed.”

  “Yes, we failed. They put us in chains, locked us in the brig, then decided to kill us all one by one for mutiny.”

  “They obviously didn’t succeed.”

  Riden shakes his head. “No, but they came close. My father wanted to start with me. I was … a disappointment to him. I hadn’t turned out the way he wanted me to. Didn’t look enough like him. Didn’t talk, walk, drink like him. I think my father chalked it up to the fact that we have different mothers—but whatever the reason, Draxen was always more like him. Do you have any brothers or sisters, Alosa?”

  “I’m sure by now there’s near a hundred of them. My father has quite the … appetite. But I’m the only one he’s claimed. If there are others, I do not know of them.”

  “I see. I was raised with Draxen. We did everything together. Played and fought. He always looked out for me, being my older brother. When my father yelled and hit me, Draxen would come to my defense. He was my protector in our younger years, during the time when he was bigger than I. Then we grew, and I could start looking out for him in return.”

  Normally, here is where I would throw out some amount of snark. Riden’s story is very sappy. But strangely, I feel the need to be still. To listen.

  “We have a strong bond. It’s the strongest thing I have in my life. And I would never do anything to break it because my whole life has been built around it. So without it, I don’t know what I would be. Nothing good.”

  I wonder what it would be like to have something like that. Someone whom you could trust and call your friend since childhood. I have many good women aboard my crew whom I trust and call friends. But they are all recent finds. Within the last five years or so. I don’t have anything I’ve held on to since I was little.

  Except my father, of course.

  “My father was about to kill me for what he assumed would be my last disappointing act. But then Draxen was there. He’d broken free of the men holding him and come to my rescue. Yet again. That act saved my life. When it most counted, Draxen chose me over our father. I owe him my life and my allegiance. He is the best thing I have, and I would never do anything to hurt or betray him.

  “Draxen then pitched his skill with the sword against our father. But Father was an excellent swordsman, drunk and lazy or not. He disarmed Draxen and was about to kill him. But I picked up my brother’s fallen sword. And I killed him.”

  “And what happened after that?” I ask.

  “Killing our father had a strange effect on Draxen and me. We felt freer with him gone, stronger. We fought our way to the brig. We released everyone. And we took the ship.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Well, I left out all the fighting bits, but I’m sure you know what a fight looks and sounds like.”

  And smells and feels and tastes like.

  “Now tell me about your scars,” Riden says.

  A deal’s a deal. So I tell him. But I don’t want him to feel sorry for me. So I state everything like it’s fact. No feeling. No remorse. I tell him about my endurance tests. My rigorous fighting practices. The regular trials my father gave me. I don’t go into too much detail. He just needs a sense of life with my father in order to be satisfied that I didn’t lie to him by saying I would share if he did.

  At the end, Riden asks, “And are all your father’s men trained in the same way?”

  “Well, I’m the only one he’s trained personally, but—” I cut off quickly.

  “What?”

  “Why do you want to know about their training? Is this another blasted interrogation?” I jump out of the bed in an instant, shoving half of Riden’s weight off me in the process. “I can’t believe you. What the hell is this, Riden? You show me kindness and then expect me to open up to you, is that it?”

  Riden shrugs. “You’re a woman and the pirate king’s daughter at that. Something tells me you wouldn’t budge under torture. We needed to approach you in a different way.”

  “Damn you. And your blasted crew. Is any of this real?”

  Riden sits up and regards me seriously. “Is any of what real?”

  “Your story? This?” I gesture about the room. “All the niceties? Are they just a way to get me to open up?”

  He stands and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Most of it is real, Alosa, even though it shouldn’t be.”

  I shove him back and wince at yesterday’s wounds. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re playing a part. The conflicted first mate. You’re a lie.”

  “So are you. Why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing on this ship?”

  “I’m not doing anything!” I scream. “Just let me go. I want to go now!”

  It’s hard keeping up appearances when I’m so furious. But it needs to be done.

  “Can’t do that. Not unless you want to tell me where your father’s hideaway is? Then we’ll take you right
to him.”

  I can feel my whole body tense. I’m going to explode if I don’t hit something.

  “Ah,” Riden says. “I’ve come to understand that look. I’ll leave you alone for a while.”

  He leaves right before my foot connects with the door.

  * * *

  I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter. What do I care if Riden’s been trying to gather information from me? I already knew he was doing it. I just hadn’t expected him to try using a sentimental approach.

  Nothing’s changed. I’m still trying to get the map. And as long as I keep the location of my father’s keep a secret, I can continue searching for it. So what if Riden gets a little clever now and then? He can’t touch me.

  I’m sitting on the edge of Riden’s bed, waiting out the day, when the door opens. Was it too much to hope it wouldn’t be Riden?

  He grabs my upper arm. “Captain wants to see you.”

  I try to punch him in the stomach, but he’s expecting it. He catches my fist. “Come on, Alosa. Let’s see what he wants.”

  “I don’t want to see what he wants. Every time I see Draxen, something terrible happens. I want to be left alone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with being on this ship.”

  “Come on.” He drags me toward the door. “Something terrible won’t happen.”

  I give him a look.

  “Something terrible probably won’t happen. Just give Draxen whatever he wants.”

  “How about if I give Draxen what he deserves?”

  He laughs as he drags me the rest of the way. Up the companionway. Into Draxen’s quarters.

  “Ah, here she is,” Draxen says. He has a couple of men already in here with him: Kearan and Ulgin. I suppress a shudder. “I think it best that the princess be kept in irons when she’s not locked up.” He nods toward Ulgin, who pulls a set of manacles from his belt.

  “She’s still weak from yesterday, Captain,” Riden says, jerking his head toward my wrists. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “If you say so, Riden. Alosa, have a seat.”

  “I think I’d rather stand.”

  “I wasn’t asking.”

  Riden moves me in front of a chair and puts pressure on my shoulders. Reluctantly, I sit. If I don’t like what happens next, I can always get back up.

  “We received word from your father yesterday.”

  “How’s that? I was told no one knew our location.”

  “We’ve been using yano birds.”

  I don’t expect to hear that. Yano birds are used for carrying messages out to sea. They’re very fast and excellent navigators. They’re also perfect for silent communication, because the birds don’t utter a note of song. But they’re extremely rare. My father himself has only five of them.

  “How did you come by one?” I ask.

  “I’ve a crew of men who are very good at getting things done. Your concern should be what happens to you within the next five minutes. I want to know where your father’s keep is.”

  “He didn’t tell you in his letter? Shocker, that.”

  Draxen scowls at my tone.

  I ask, “What exactly did his note say?”

  “He’s willing to negotiate a ransom. I just have to name an amount and location.”

  “So do it, then.”

  Draxen smiles his evil smile, baring his gold tooth. It’s a calculating, malicious grin matched with cold eyes. So different from the way Riden smiles when he thinks he has the upper hand on me. Riden’s is victorious, even cocky, sure, but harmless somehow. But Draxen—his is laced with poison.

  “See now,” Draxen says, “I have this feeling I would show up and be surrounded by ten of your father’s ships. I think it would be far better to surprise him and negotiate when he is unprepared, don’t you?”

  “My father’s promise of peace isn’t enough to sway you?”

  “Riden’s informed me that you are special to your father. It seems to me that when it comes to you, we can’t count on promises. We need something more to work with. I told you what would happen if you continued to be uncooperative with Riden. I’ve grown impatient. I need your father’s location now.”

  “I’m not giving it to you.”

  Draxen clenches his teeth and jerks his head violently to the side. “I was going to let Ulgin have you if you weren’t cooperative, but I find I’ve got far too much of a desire to handle this interrogation myself.”

  This is not going to be pleasant.

  Draxen gets behind me and yanks my head backward by my hair. I grimace at the pain. He strikes the side of my face with a closed fist.

  “Where is Kalligan’s keep, girl?”

  I don’t answer. He hits me again.

  “Draxen.” It’s Riden.

  “What?”

  “This doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “Then leave. It needs to be done and you know it.” I receive another blow to the head. My nose starts to bleed.

  You can’t fight back, I tell myself. You can kill Draxen yourself when this is all over, but right now you can’t fight back. It’s my father’s voice in my head.

  “Draxen, please,” Riden tries again.

  “I said ‘leave,’ Riden.” Draxen hits me with his other hand. This one bites more deeply. I think it’s his ring hand, where he bears the seal of the Allemos line. It cuts my cheek.

  “Brother,” Riden tries again. This time more forcefully. It’s the most backbone I’ve seen from him.

  Draxen’s eyes must be alight with blood lust. But he halts at that one word. He sighs as if to clear his head. “Fine, Riden. If you insist. Are you ready to talk yet, princess?”

  I remain silent.

  “What do you think, Riden?” Draxen asks, and I don’t like the new tone his voice takes. “The pirate king doesn’t need a daughter with hair, does he?”

  I hear a knife slide out of a sheath.

  Riden doesn’t protest at this. Why would he? It doesn’t hurt to have one’s hair cut, but he seems not to understand the value a woman’s hair has to her.

  And I’ve no intention of losing mine. “Stop!” Drops of blood spray outward as I speak. The blood from my nose has run into my mouth.

  Kearan tilts his head to the side and speaks for the first time. “That’s what it took? Her bloody hair?”

  “To interrogate a woman, you have to think like a woman,” Draxen says.

  “Which is strangely effortless for you,” I say.

  Despite Riden’s earlier protests, Draxen hits me again. But I don’t care. That one was worth it. The other pirates in the room have the sense not to laugh.

  “The location, Alosa,” Draxen demands.

  “Lycon’s Peak. Do you know it?” I ask.

  “Aye.” Kearan’s the one who answers. Naturally. Enwen told me that Kearan was once a traveler and adventurer.

  “The keep is two weeks’ sail northeast of there.”

  “Is that possible?” Draxen asks. “Is there anything above that?”

  Kearan says, “There could easily be a few small islands there.”

  Draxen releases my hair and stands in front of me. “If you’re lying, girl, I will take both your hair and a hand.”

  “Do you truly think you’ll be successful sneaking into my father’s keep? Once you get there, my father will hang you all.”

  “We’ll take our chances. Riden, take the prisoner back to her quarters. Bring me back a map. Kearan, meet us at the helm to set our course.”

  A few moments later, I’m back in Riden’s room, holding a towel to my nose while Riden digs through the pile of maps in his room.

  He can’t see my huge smile under the towel. It’s not just because I’ve all but destroyed all of his maps. I also didn’t have to give away the location to my father’s keep. No, the location I gave them is one my father and I discussed before I set out on this mission. My father and many of his men will be waiting there for me to return with the map. We knew Draxen would try to discover whe
re my father’s keep is. We had a location already in mind to give him should things turn sour.

  The only problem now is that I have a deadline for finding that map. I have to have it before we reach my father. Or he will not be pleased.

  Bad things happen when he’s not pleased.

  Chapter 11

  RIDEN LEAVES ME ALONE for several hours that day. Though my face doesn’t hurt anymore (I’ve always been a fast healer), my stomach aches something fierce from the want of food. It’s been a day and a half since I’ve eaten.

  I try to imagine I’m home at the keep, attending one of Father’s grand feasts. He’ll have every kind of meat imaginable, from pork to beef to fowl. My mouth waters at the imagined taste of steamed vegetables and sweetened fruits. Pies and wine. Bread and cheese. If they don’t feed me today, I’ll have to risk sneaking down to the kitchens tonight.

  But I needn’t have worried.

  I can smell something hot and delicious from the other side of the door.

  As soon as Riden enters, I pluck one of the bowls out of his hand.

  “Careful,” he says, “it’s still hot.”

  I don’t care. I burn a spot on my tongue as I take a few gulps of the soup. I hardly even taste it as the liquid burns all the way down to my stomach. When my bowl is drained, I grab the other one in Riden’s hand and start on it.

  “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized how long it’d been since you’d eaten. You should’ve said something.”

  I don’t look his way while I eat. I’ve enough food in me now to patiently use the spoon and blow on the soup. My teeth eagerly bite into the vegetables and potatoes in the mix.

  When I’ve finished the second bowl, I drop it to the ground and retreat to the bed. I still feel weaker than usual. It might be midday, but something tells me I could drift off now and sleep all the way until morning. Too many nights with too little sleep.

  My eyes are closed, but I can hear Riden moving around the room. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to clean up your mess.”

  “Could you do it more quietly? I’m trying to sleep. I’ve had a rough couple of days, you know.”

  He snorts, but the rustling sound of cleaning still continues.

  “Good idea, you cleaning the room and all,” I say. “I’ll need something to do tomorrow.”