The captain shook his head. “There’d be a reward then. It would’ve been smarter to lie, girl.” He held up one hand to pause her grab for her sword. “But the Imperials probably have a reward out for me as well, so this time you’re fine. Find another story, though. You’ll be safer that way. Can you work sails?”
“I’m…I was a lieutenant-in-training. I can do anything on this ship,” Jules said.
“Ah. We’ll see about that.” The captain looked about as his crew began rushing onto deck, some of them running down the gangway and toward the town to collect their shipmates. “Do you know how a free ship works?”
“I know how a ship works,” Jules said. “You’re the captain.”
“This is a free ship,” he repeated. “I’m captain as long as the crew supports me. If I make enough mistakes, act too high and mighty, they can vote me out and someone else in. Don’t you be a mistake, you hear me?” The sudden menace in the captain’s voice made clear the threat wasn’t an idle one.
“I hear you,” Jules said.
“I’m Mak of Severun. What’s your name?”
“My name is J—” Jules choked off her words, realizing that she shouldn’t tell anyone the truth of that. “Jeri. Jeri of…”
“Say Landfall,” Captain Mak advised. “Your accent tells anyone you’re from there, so stick to a story you can carry off.”
“Thank you,” Jules said, suddenly aware of how much she didn’t know about being on the run from…from everyone. “Jeri of Landfall.”
“All right, Jeri. Welcome to the Sun Queen. You can climb rigging?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get out of those boots and drop your sword and belt. I’ll keep them safe for you. Keep the dagger. Ask Ang for a belt sheath for it from the ship’s chest.”
Jules leaned against the deckhouse, tugging off both boots, feeling a surge of worry as she unclasped her sword belt and handed over the weapon. But she still had the dagger in her hand, and while Mak didn’t seem especially warm he did appear to be helpful. “Can you do something with this?” Jules asked, abruptly realizing she also still had the bag holding her rolled up Imperial uniform.
“What is it?” Mak glanced inside. He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t ask any other questions. “It’ll be in this cabin. In case you need it again.”
“I seriously doubt I will.” She found Ang, who offered Jules a scornful look before taking her to the chest holding extra clothing and other items anyone on the ship might need. Jules dug until she found a leather belt sheath that would hold her dagger, but there weren’t any belts that would fit her. Without her sword belt, the pants she’d stolen kept slipping down over her hips, so going without a belt wasn’t an option.
That was a familiar problem from her childhood, though, with a familiar solution at hand. “Is it all right if I cut off some of this?” Jules asked Ang, hefting a length of line. He nodded, she measured out a length with her arms, sliced it free and after putting the knife sheath on it slipped the line through the belt loops of her pants and knotted it.
“You’ve done that before,” Ang said, his gaze gone from hostile to curious.
“Legion orphan home,” Jules said, having decided to stick with that part of her past. There wasn’t any shortage of people who could claim similar upbringing, and she’d have a hard time convincingly talking about any other kind of childhood.
“Ah.” Ang nodded. “Landfall?”
“Yeah.”
“I was in one at Sandurin. The Emperor’s generosity didn’t extend to luxuries like decent clothing, did it?”
“No,” Jules said. “And the food was only fit for a Mage.”
“On good days.” Ang nodded again. “If you need anything, sister, you tell me.”
“Thank you, brother.”
That had been one of the unwritten rules of the orphan homes. The others there were sisters and brothers, perhaps the only family some of them had ever known. And they all knew it was them against a world that saw them as a burden at best and thieving pests at worst.
Back on deck there were sailors rushing about to ready the ship to get underway, and others racing up the gangway having returned from the taverns. “Something weird’s going on back there,” one called as she came up off the dock. “Mages going around checking every young woman and young man. They’re not saying a thing, just staring and moving on.”
“Move fast!” Captain Mak called down from the quarterdeck, where he stood fully clothed, a cutlass by his side. “The Imperials and the Mages are both acting up! We want out of here before the Mechanics join in!”
Jules ran over to where some of the crew were bringing in the hawsers that had tied the ship to the pier, lending a hand as they hauled on the rough, heavy lengths of braided hemp fibers. Other members of the crew were pulling in the gangway even as a last sailor ran up it.
“Get aloft!” Ang called. He gestured to Jules. “Foremast!”
She ran again, joining the others racing up the ratlines and shrouds to the yard where the fore-mainsail was furled. Edging out along the rope strung under the yardarm, Jules helped loosen and unfurl the sail, the heavy canvas fighting her efforts.
The sail dropped, filling with a soft rumble as it caught the breeze.
The Sun Queen, drifting slowly away from the pier, picked up speed as the sails were unfurled and caught the wind, her bow coming about to head for the harbor entrance.
Jules paused to stare that way, remembering that Jacksport as yet had no marked channel to follow, and no lights on the headlands marking either side of the harbor entrance. Getting out without running aground would take both inspired seamanship and at least a little luck.
Back down on the deck, Jules joined one of the gangs of sailors hauling on the lines to shift the sails to best catch the wind as the Sun Queen swung about. She looked forward, seeing the vague, shadowy shapes of the headlands hard to make out in the night, then back toward the quarterdeck, startled to see Captain Mak apparently looking off to the side. “What’s he looking at?” she gasped without thinking.
One of the nearest sailors glanced back at the captain. “You don’t know that trick? Something dim at night, you can’t see it head on. But if you look out of the corner of your eye, you can spot it. Mak’s looking for the surf around the sides of the harbor entrance.”
Of course. Jules turned her own gaze aside, catching the faint glimmer of white surf, growing and fading as the swells beat against the rocks.
It seemed a very small and vague thing on which to risk the safety of this ship and the people on it.
Including her.
Jules looked down at herself, in rough sailor clothing, a rope belt, bare feet, on the deck of a ship she didn’t know surrounded by men and women whose motives and morality she had little sense of, heading for what might well be a hard grounding on jagged rocks that would tear the bottom out of this ship and spill the crew into the waves slamming into the rocks. There had been little time tonight to think. No chance to really consider what choices she had. Did this make sense? Had she simply run from one form of death to another?
Looking back toward the waterfront, getting farther away as the Sun Queen headed for the harbor entrance, Jules made out the shapes of crowds rushing about. Were there dark red Imperial uniforms among them? Hard to tell from this distance. But the Mages had already been looking for her. By now the crew of the Eagle Talon might be searching as well.
A boom like that of thunder brought to ground echoed across the harbor, followed by several more booms in a ragged volley.
“Mechanic weapons,” one of the sailors said, staring back at Jacksport. “The Mechanics are out, and they’re shooting.”
“Shooting at who or what? What the blazes happened?” another asked. “Mages acting weirder than usual. The Imperials moving in. I’ve been to Jacksport a dozen times and never seen the like of this.”
“I heard someone say there’d been a prophecy. A Mage made a prophecy.”
; “About what? The end of the world?”
Jules looked forward again, trying to catch a good look at the rocks and surf around the harbor entrance that the ship was rapidly approaching.
Dangerous as those rocks were, they were the safer choice tonight. And daring them her only chance of living to see the dawn. If she was going to live, she couldn’t just stand around waiting for others to save her.
Chapter Two
Jules broke into a run, heading forward past startled other members of the crew. She reached the bow and kept going, out along the bowsprit extending from the bow, holding on to the stay lines until she’d gone as far as she could, the dark waters of the harbor racing beneath her as she balanced unsteadily on the bowsprit, reaching back to grasp the closest rigging, feeling the tension in the stay line as it helped hold the masts against the strain of the wind.
She knelt, staring into the darkness, scanning from side to side, catching glimpses of white surf from the corners of her eyes. There. And there. “Surf less than one point to starboard!” she yelled back.
Jules heard her report echoed by others, relayed to the quarterdeck, and felt the ship swing slightly to port, rocking her on her precarious perch. Grateful that she had bare feet gripping the bowsprit instead of the leather soles of her boots, Jules breathed as softly as she could through her open mouth, listening as well as looking for surf. “Surf one point to starboard!”
The Sun Queen swung a bit more to port.
“Surf two points to port!”
“Surf three points to starboard!”
“Surf just off the port bow!”
The ship swung harder, heeling away from the danger. Jules’ foot slipped, leaving her partially dangling over the water for a moment as she clung to the stay.
Both feet on the bowsprit again, looking anxiously ahead, Jules heard and saw the closest surf this time. “Surf one point to starboard!”
The Sun Queen rolled a bit to port, threading the needle of the channel entrance. Jules held on, staring at the waters ahead, feeling the motion of the ship change to a long roll and pitch.
“Hey.”
Jules looked back, seeing Ang calling to her from the foot of the bowsprit.
“We’re out,” Ang said. “Get your butt back on deck before you take a swim.”
She found it unexpectedly hard to stand fully and make her way back along the bowsprit without falling, surprised by how stiff her muscles were. Hands reached to help her onto the deck. “Who the blazes are you?” one of the sailors demanded.
“J- Jeri. Of Landfall. I just came aboard.” She looked at the faces around her, trying to judge their mood in the dimness.
The sailors parted like the waters of a sea as Captain Mak came through them. “That was you up front calling the surf?”
“Yes, sir,” Jules said.
“Smart,” Mak said. “I should’ve thought of that myself. Ladies and Sirs of the Sun Queen, I give you our newest proposed crew member, Jeri of Landfall! Give her a hand for getting us out of Jacksport in one piece.”
Fists punched Jules in the shoulders, knocking her about, the blows friendly rather than intended to harm. Most of the blows still hurt a little, though.
A cheerful woman at least twice Jules’ age put her arm about Jules’ shoulders. “That’s enough, you louts! You’ll get your chances tomorrow!” She led Jules out of the circle of grinning sailors, leaning close to talk in a lower voice. “I’m Liv of Marandur. Ang tells me you’re a sister like me.”
“Yes.”
The woman looked over Jules’ hair, which despite the events of the evening still bore the styling expected of an Imperial officer. “Looks like you found a better place in life for a while at least.”
“I didn’t find it,” Jules said, her pride stung. “I fought for it.”
The woman grinned. “Well done, sister. Listen up. There’ll be an initiation tomorrow. To see how tough you are. Ang and I can’t help. You’ll have to stand on your own.”
“I can do that,” Jules said.
“Yeah, I expect you’ll do all right. I just wanted you to know why Ang and I will be standing by instead of back to back with you. Get on below, now. Let’s get you a hammock. Do you need any other gear?”
“I left my last ship in a rush,” Jules admitted. “I couldn’t go back to get anything.” Not that she’d had that much in the way of personal possessions. But simple things like a spare set of underwear fell under the category of necessities.
“No need for details,” Liv advised. “A lot of us left our last place in a rush and would rather not share the reasons.” She led the way down a ladder into the below decks, where many of the crew were gathering. As was usual below decks on a ship, the overhead was low enough that tall men and women stooped to ensure their heads didn’t make painful contact with wooden beams.
Jules gazed around, surprised. “How large is the crew?”
“Forty-seven in all, now you’re here,” Liz said.
“That’s…very large for a merchant ship this size.”
“We sometimes have need of extra crew, isn’t that right?” Liz called to the others.
Jules heard the laughter in reply. She knew of only one reason why such a ship would need a crew this large.
She’d fallen in with pirates.
* * *
The night had been an uncomfortable one despite the swaying of her hammock to the roll of the ship. Jules lay awake for a long time, feeling the hammocks strung close to either side of her, other sailors sleeping around her making the sort of noises that she’d learned to ignore while in crowded quarters in the orphan home. She stared up at the rough wood of the overhead, but she didn’t see those planks. All she could see before her were the burning eyes of that Mage, fixed on hers, as he pronounced her doom.
A daughter of her line. How weird to think of that. She’d barely begun to consider children some day, and certainly had no idea who she’d want them with. But here it was, a Mage prophecy that said she would have them. At least one, anyway. Who would be her partner in that? Someone who was truly a partner, or a man chosen to serve a need and nothing more? Would she ever get so desperate that any man would do?
She thought of Ian. A good man, not much older than she, from a good family close to the Imperial household. About as far as anyone could get from a girl out of one of the legion orphan homes. But he’d made clear that if Jules happened to become interested in him, he’d be interested in her. She’d been sorry at times not to feel more toward Ian, but now counted her luck. That kind of entanglement would have only hurt both of them more when the prophecy was spoken.
Would it have meant that Ian would’ve been the man who fathered the child who’d continue her line?
Jules frowned, her jumbled thoughts for some reason fastening on that idea. Who would the father be? The prophecy almost made it sound as if that didn’t matter. It would be her line that produced that daughter. As if something about her was special.
Apparently overthrowing the Great Guilds and freeing the world would demand a woman with a sharp temper and more stubbornness than common sense.
What would these sailors around her do if they knew about her and the prophecy? Jules gazed into the darkness, feeling very alone despite being surrounded by others. She’d have to avoid blurting out her secret again. Bad enough that Dara knew.
Ian had been right. She should have killed Dara.
But she couldn’t have. Jules knew she couldn’t take a life just to keep a secret. Not even this secret.
Pirates killed people. They were criminals, like the gangs Jules had known growing up in Landfall. The children of the orphanages had stood together against those predators. Had Ang and Liv joined such a group? Wouldn’t they have warned her?
Jules knew that if she’d judged wrong, if she’d ended up in the hands of a gang such as those that had haunted the dark alleys of Landfall, then she might soon be wishing she’d let the Mages kill her. Such a death might be merciful compared to
what such gangs had done to their victims.
Only exhaustion finally allowed her to sleep.
And now, after a short breakfast of boiled potatoes and onions washed down with tepid water from a cask, Jules found herself standing on deck alone. The sky above was bright blue, flecked with high, white clouds, the breezes mild, the swells the ship rode long and gentle. A beautiful morning.
Except that the crew had formed a rough circle about her, smiling with anticipation.
Captain Mak appeared on the edge of the quarterdeck. “We have a new candidate for the crew! Shall we test her?”
The men and women around Jules shouted their approval.
Jules’ hand clenched as she fought to avoid drawing her dagger.
The crew moved out of the circle, forming two equal lines that faced each other, leading from the foremast to the quarterdeck. Jules saw sailors massaging their hands to loosen the muscles. Saw marlinspikes and clubs held by others. And knew what she faced.
Mak leaned forward to call to her. “Run it, girl. When you reach the quarterdeck, you’ll be crew.”
She’d felt the fear of pain and of failure, and of losing all she cared about. Of succeeding, and being told by others that she’d been given a special break, hadn’t really earned it. She’d been here. Running gauntlets all of her life between people who thought she wasn’t good enough.
Jules walked back to the foremast, turning to face down the gauntlet, seeing everyone grinning in expectation of the fun to come. The cold came into her, the same cold that she’d felt when told her mother had died, the cold that had kept her going after she entered the orphan home.
No one was going to stop her.
She looked up at Mak. “I’ll reach the quarterdeck,” she yelled back.
Then began walking, not running, down the gauntlet.
After a moment of surprise, those on either side began hitting her. Jules felt herself slammed from side to side by the blows. Most of the sailors weren’t easing up at all, striking her hard as she walked.
A fist to her face rocked her head. She shook it and walked on. A slam across her back dropped Jules to her knees. She struggled up and kept walking.
Pirate of the Prophecy Page 3
