by Travis Bughi
Actually, fistfights were a lot less spontaneous than she had been led to believe.
Either way, she wouldn’t need her bow. Not to mention that such a weapon was beyond difficult to use at sea. As the waves jostled both her and her target, aiming required an impossible amount of prediction to the point that any hit was pure luck. Unless the distance the arrow had to travel was short, she found that she was more likely to miss than actually do any real damage. This was probably the reason the pirates didn’t carry any ranged weapons beyond cannons or flintlock pistols. Even then, it was only the Captain who carried a pistol, for although such weapons were cheaper than a gunslinger’s six-shooter, they were still far above a lowly crewmember’s pay.
Bladed weapons, however, had unlimited, free ammunition. Emily wholeheartedly adopted this concept when she was aboard a ship without the means to create more arrows. So, in short, her bow was cumbersome at best, and she headed to her cabin to safely stow it.
Most of the men stayed in one large, open room below deck. They slept on hammocks that hung between columns, stacked two, sometimes three, high. In that room, there was limited space, no privacy, and a lack of personal storage. More noticeably, though, was an odor so strong it made Emily’s eyes sting and yet didn’t seem to disturb the pirates.
She considered herself very fortunate that she didn’t have to sleep in that room.
There were precious few cabins in The Greedy Barnacle. The large one accessible from the main deck was the Captain’s room, but there were two smaller rooms, complete with doors, directly below it. One belonged to the First Mate, and the other belonged to the only women aboard the ship: Emily and Priscila. Their door didn’t have a key but could be locked and unlocked with a latch from the inside. It wasn’t much in the way of privacy, but it was immensely better than the alternative. Emily had shared a room with her two brothers all her life, but there was a difference between family and eighteen strange men. Mosley had insisted the women take the room, and neither had offered the slightest hesitation in accepting it. It seemed even Priscila with her four lovers wanted some extra space.
Emily climbed down the hatch and made her way toward her room. She passed a couple of crates, stepped over a fallen barrel, and held her breath as she walked by the pirates’ quarters. As she entered the short hallway dividing her room from the First Mate’s, she saw that her door was already open. She smiled and turned the corner, expecting to see her roommate inside.
Instead she saw the First Mate, Carlito Hacke, and she felt her anger flare.
Carlito Hacke was an ugly man. He was heavy but short. Not as short as Emily, but shorter than most of the other pirates. He had a stubby, pitch-black beard, wavy, long hair, a fat nose, and horribly scarred cheeks. His eyes sunk deeply into his skull, and like most pirates, he didn’t care much about keeping himself clean, which angered Emily the most, because Carlito was sitting on her bed.
At his feet was her backpack, opened wide and its contents sprawled out. There wasn’t much, just some food, her sharpening stone, sewing kit, flint and steel, cloak, waterskin, what coins her older brother had given her before she left Lucifan, and two letters. The blanket that served as her bedroll was already laid out on the bed upon which Carlito was casually placing his dirty behind.
In his hand, he was holding up one of the two letters, reading it over without any concern for Emily’s appearance. The other letter was still sealed with its wax unbroken and lying on the blanket beside him.
Emily ran up, snatched the letter out of Carlito’s hand and quickly grabbed up the other one, too.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. “How dare you!”
Carlito blinked and kept his hands where they’d been. He turned to her, appearing both annoyed and surprised to see her.
“Ah, hello, Emily,” he said. “It’s nice to see you, too, love.”
Emily locked her jaw, and her blood boiled. She’d hated Carlito ever since they’d begun this voyage. It had nothing to do with his looks and everything to do with his treatment of her.
While most of the other pirates had some level of decency, Carlito seemed to have none. Emily hesitated to admit it, but pirates were pretty lowly characters. They stole when they could get away with it, fought for fun, cared nothing for bathing, and considered clothing to be optional. They used vile speech, thought cheating was honest work, and generally put treasure at such a high priority that only certain death would steer them from it.
And perhaps that’s why Carlito seemed to have no bounds. He was unlike normal humans. While at sea, Carlito was immortal. Not long ago, he’d traveled to Savara and found one of the elusive jinn, mystical beings who granted great power in exchange for great sacrifice. He’d made his wish. Now he could not die so long as water was beneath him, but in exchange, he was as weak as a baby while his feet were on the ground.
With the threat of death removed, Emily found Carlito’s rudeness greatly lacking in restraint. He was surprisingly respectful to the men and his Captain, but Emily somehow didn’t qualify. Among the crew, Carlito was one of the few pirates who still made advances on Emily. He watched her as if she were property—specifically his property—followed her when he fancied, ignored her when she told him to stop, and had become increasingly bold as the months dragged on. Until this very moment, he’d mostly just disgusted her. Now he had angered her.
“Get out!” she yelled at him. “Now!”
“I see I’ve upset you,” he smiled, leaning back on her bed. “Sorry about that. Your room was unlocked, and being the First Mate and all, I decided to attend to my duties.”
“What duties?”
“Inspect the crew’s gear, love,” he said, sounding innocent. “It just occurred to me that I never bothered to look at what you brought on the ship, and I’d be in a heap of trouble if the Captain ever found out I’d given you special treatment.”
“Well, are you satisfied now?” she glared. “And since when does an inspection include reading personal letters?”
She held up the two letters before putting the opened one back in its envelope. Carlito watched her hands work and kept his expression light.
“I could say the same thing to you,” he said. “As far as I could tell, those letters don’t mention you at all. In fact, I think I might just have to confiscate them. Could be important business there.”
“Stop it, Carlito,” she said. “Just leave, please.”
“Have you read them?”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, rising off her bed. “Have you read them?”
“No,” Emily responded honestly, “they’re not for me to read.”
“You should,” he smiled.
Carlito closed the distance between them, and Emily tried to stand strong. Her body recoiled, though, and she turned her head to the side when the stench of his breath hit her with the familiar smell of rum.
“You really should read it,” he whispered. “Maybe we can together some time?”
“Please, leave,” she said slowly, eyes still diverted. “Now.”
“You know, you might want to be a bit nicer to me,” he said, a twinge of anger making its way into his tone. “I think a lot of women would take it as a compliment if they had an immortal taking interest in them. I’ve been real friendly, and I don’t take too kindly to your lack of respect for me.”
Emily kept quiet, avoiding his eyes and trying to keep calm. She wanted to run, but this was her room. He was the one who needed to leave. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?
“You think you’re special?” he said. “You think that because the Captain likes you, you can just ignore people like me? I don’t think you understand; we ain’t all that different, you and me. In fact, we could be great together.”
Carlito paused to breathe deeply, smelling her hair, and it sickened her. She felt like she would vomit at any moment.
“Carlito, leave,” she commanded.
“Oh, hello,” a th
ird voice suddenly interrupted them.
Emily whirled around, and Carlito’s eyes slid past Emily to find Priscila standing in the doorway. Her curly, blonde hair cascaded around her face, and her green eyes looked both soft and intimidating. Next to her, one of her male companions stood with his chest pressed up against her arm. Priscila looked innocently at the pair while the uncomfortable silence passed among them.
“Hey, Carlito,” the man spoke.
“Urbano,” Carlito nodded. “Priscila, good to see you. I was, uh, just talking with Emily here about her pregnant friend.”
Carlito pointed to the letters still in Emily’s hand and then smiled as she looked at him in shock.
“Read the letter,” he winked and then moved past her toward the door. “Oh, and think about what I said.”
He walked out and disappeared as he turned down the hallway, whistling as he did so, and the discordant notes faded slowly to Emily’s torment.
* * *
Emily honestly tried not to read the letter.
Of the two in her possession, neither was written by or to herself. The first was from a woman named Belen. Emily, along with her amazon sisters, had punished Belen for a crime she did not commit, resulting in Belen becoming an exiled werewolf in the Forest of Angor. Belen could have killed Emily for her role in the deed, but she hadn’t. Instead, her only request was that Emily deliver a letter to Belen’s husband, telling him of her situation.
Emily had done this, carrying the letter for months until she reached the knight-vampire named Sir Mark O’Conner. He’d been human then, and he’d not given Belen’s situation the slightest concern. Heartlessly, he’d shunned her and wrote a letter condemning Belen to her life of exile. Emily had yet to deliver Mark’s response, leaving his letter sealed so that Belen would know it was truly his will. Emily owed Belen that much, and even if it took years to deliver, she would see the task through.
However, never did Emily know that Belen was pregnant. Throughout the wrongful accusations, while Belen wrote the letter, and while Mark read it by candle light, never did Emily know that Belen was pregnant. The accused and banished woman had hidden it well.
And so curiosity got the better of Emily. She opened the letter and read it.
To my dearest love,
I am sorry that I had to leave Lucifan so suddenly. I hope you know that it was not my decision to do so. If I had known the events that were about to occur, I never would have left your arms that night. Please forgive me, but I have terrible news.
I have become a werewolf. I was bitten during our journey back to Themiscyra, and I am expected to change any time now. My first full moon is swiftly approaching, and I am scared. I wish you were here with me and yet I am terrified of the thought as well. I understand that I may never see you again, and my heart breaks at the thought.
However, I want you to know that I am safe. I have been taken in by the werewolves here, and they are treating me very well. Their understanding and patience is something that has infected me quite thoroughly and is something I never would have expected from them. Like you, I thought them beasts.
I am writing to you now not only to inform you of why I won’t be coming to Lucifan anymore but also to request a favor of you. You should know, my love, that I am pregnant with our child. I am still a few months from giving birth, and I’ve hidden this fact for as long as I can. I’ve finally broken silence and asked the other werewolves about it.
They say my situation is unique. They have never had a woman turned during pregnancy. They say that it is possible that our child will be born normal. If this is so, I desperately want for our child to have a chance beyond this disease. I need you Our child needs you! Please, hurry with all haste to the southern end of the Forest of Angor. I have informed all I can of my situation, and they will be watching for you.
Please hurry. We’re building a special place to protect our child in case he or she is not born a werewolf, but there is no way to know if it’ll work until the time comes. You must hurry if you are to protect our child from me. I’m counting on you, my love. I know you won’t let us down.
Sincerely,
Belen
Emily put the letter down and closed her eyes. She felt her throat tighten and guilt wrack her soul. Belen was expecting O’Conner to come and save their child, but he would not. A life Emily never knew existed was ruined now thanks to her, because by now the child was surely born. Of all the pain her ignorance and mistakes had caused, this one hurt almost as much as losing her grandmother.
If she had only known, she never would have let Mark reject his duty.
“That . . . spineless. . .” she trailed off.
“Hate him that badly, huh?” Priscila asked.
Emily was shaken from her subconscious. She was sitting on her bed while Priscila was stretched across her own. In the small room, the two beds lined up alongside either wall and were shoved back into the corners. Priscila was watching Emily now, taking interest in the twisted hate that filled her features.
“Huh?”
“Carlito,” Priscila clarified. “Hate him that much?”
“No, it’s just,” Emily was about to explain about Mark, but then decided not to. “Well, actually, yes. Carlito is really getting to me. That scum! Did you see him in here? It’s like he can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. It’s like he’s obsessed with me, and it scares me.”
Emily was sitting on her bed cross-legged. She still had the note in her hands and all her things strewn about. After Carlito had left, Priscila had given Urbano a kiss and sent him away. She was waiting patiently now, watching Emily fold up the letters and tuck them safely away in their water-resistant wrapping.
“Do you always have this much trouble with men?” Priscila asked. “I’m guessing that skirt doesn’t help much.”
Emily felt her temper flare.
“What? My skirt?” she gaped. “This is my armor, Priscilla! It’s normal for amazons. And no, I don’t have this much trouble normally. I’m fine with most of the crew, and they’re all men, too. It’s just Carlito.”
“So, you’ve been approached before?” Priscila pressed.
“Um, yes,” Emily scoffed, “more times than I can count on this voyage. I swear it’s like they have a bet going.”
Priscila went silent and glanced away. Emily caught the look and her jaw dropped.
“Really?” she asked.
“Pirates, my dear,” Priscila offered. “For what it’s worth, I wagered you’d end up with no one, and I’m not the only one who bet so. And if you keep this up, I’ll win. So trust me; I’m on your side. But honestly, girl, what did you expect?”
Emily sighed and looked down. She was beginning to feel a bit hopeless. When first she’d seen pirates, she’d actually dreamed of going on a ship and sailing away. She knew their reputation for crude behavior, but somehow she’d naively thought it more myth than legend. What was worse, the one ally she thought to find in this mess, the only other woman, actually seemed to be taking the side of the pirates.
But to be truthful, life on The Greedy Barnacle really wasn’t all that bad. The food was mangy but edible, the water had a funny taste but was drinkable, and the living conditions, while not exactly tidy, were actually better than Emily was used to. There were laughs to be had, songs to be sung, and tricks to be learned. The reality hadn’t been too far off from what she’d imagined.
However, Emily hadn’t anticipated just how uncomfortable she’d be around so many people who loved a life of mayhem. If there was one unflinching thing in her life, it was the rigidity of routine, even if the routine changed from time to time. These pirates, though, were like chaos given life. Even after nearly six months with them, she still double checked her pockets when she brushed up against one of them. And still, after all this time, they never failed to notice the fact that she was a single, young female.
And now Priscilla was treating her, the victim, as if she were to blame. Emily sighed in frustration. She would
almost rather be back on the Great Plains at this moment.
“I guess I didn’t think this all the way through,” Emily finally replied to Priscila. “But still, at least the other pirates step away when I tell them to. Carlito though? Look at this! He went through my pack, Priscila! My pack!”
“I see that,” she pursed her lips and nodded. “If I can be honest with you, Emily, Carlito is lucky he’s immortal. If I caught him going through my things like that, he’d find a knife in his back quick, even if he is the First Mate. He’d be lucky if I did it to him, too.”
“It’d be worse if one of your, eh, friends did it?” Emily cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh yes,” Priscila nodded. “Men, at least pirates, can get rather vicious when they think someone is stealing from them, especially something they love.”
Priscila ran a hand down her side and gave Emily a seductive look. Emily laughed at that.
“I have this friend back home named Adelpha who’d probably do the same. She wouldn’t have been very forgiving either. I suppose I might have done something, too, were he not immortal.”
“But he is, and so I have to ask. Have you brought any of this up to the Captain?”
Emily frowned and looked away.
“Honestly, I haven’t really needed to until now,” Emily sighed. “It’s been harmless up to this point. Annoying? Yes. Creepy? Yes. But still harmless. I thought I could ignore it until we got to Savara. We’re so close, and then I’ll be gone, and I won’t have to worry about this anymore. I guess I didn’t want to make anyone mad if it could just be avoided.”
“Hm, I see,” Priscila nodded. “Oh, Emily, you are so young! You know, I wasn’t much older than you when I jumped on my first ship. I had to learn fast, and I made a lot of mistakes. If I can give you some advice? We pirates are thieves first, scum second, and it’s a lot harder to steal in the light than in the dark.”
