The Princess and The Pirate

Before the flames were even completely controlled on deck, The Silver Ogre’s Revenge had pulled anchor, unfurled what was left of its sails, and headed for deeper water. The open ocean with all its beasts and unknowns would be much safer than Rocqueburne Bay. This entire ordeal had turned into a ripe, pulsing, cluster headache.

Three men were already dead.

Their captain was unconscious and their second-in-command was also incapacitated. To top it all off, an enormous gaping hole threatened the entire integrity of the ship’s deck, its edges still glowing with dim embers.

Now the unofficial third-in-command, a massive African man, was in charge. The rest of the pirates acknowledged his command despite there not being any formal instructions for him to take over. He was built like a house, having lived a life of grueling work and toil. Dark as night and ominous as hell, no one fought him for control of the helm.

They let the large Somali be. It didn’t matter to the crew. He was delivering them from the harbor of death, and that’s all anyone cared about.

The door to the Captain’s quarters was kicked in with a violent smash.

Wide-eyed, Jacqueline retreated to her tiny wooden corner and took the shape of a ball. Pirates rushed in, filling the tiny space. One man held the Captain in his arms while another held a bleeding, gurgling First Mate Donavan.

Amongst the shouting and overwhelming presence of pirates stuffing the room, one hulking man came to the Princess. The pirate didn’t address her, or even look at her for that matter, and wordlessly, he ripped her chain straight from the wood wall.

Jacqueline looked up to him and was yanked forward, hard, by the end of her new leash.

“MOVE!” The Pirate barked at her and then proceeded to walk away, dragging the Princess with him.

She stumbled, trying to keep up with her new owner. Jacqueline scrambled to her feet and was dragged through the maze of men. Her legs hurt, her joints popped, and her muscles stretched painfully, not having walked a whole step in almost a day. Now she was running.

Looking back, all she saw was the Captain placed on his bed and Donavan on the rough cot.

“Please! Where are we—” the Princess attempted asking but was answered before she could finish. She was out in the night air, the ocean mist sprayed her bare legs and the moon shimmered amongst the stars in the cloudless sky.

Before being able to take in the natural majesty, Jacqueline was roughly pulled by the metal collar into a cluster of men.

With a sheepish stature, she looked at all the angry faces. Grabbing at her chain, she fidgeted nervously before them. The Princess pressed her knees together as a cold ocean breeze swept across the deck.

Rocqueburne was just a dark silhouette on the night horizon.

“They say it’s bad luck to have women on a ship! Attracts the eyes of God, it does!” yelled a pirate.

“Why, what happened!” Jacqueline pleaded to the angry mob as he chain clinked.

“You know what happened, witch!” another pirate shouted, kicking the hot, sooty debris of the deck at her.

A man roughly grabbed her by the shoulders, securing her in place. “We should just throw her overboard, let whatever’s left wash up on their shores. Let this weigh her down!” He roughly flicked the lock that kept her collar together.

She fought to free herself of his grasp, only to find herself once again at the center of the group. “B-but wait, I don’t even know what happened here!”

“Someone obviously tried to rescue you and killed three mates in the process! Exploded our first mate and knocked out our captain! Why shouldn’t we just discard you?!” a pirate shouted from the hoard. Some were tapping their sword tips against whatever they could find, eager for a proper lynching.

A rescue? Really? Jacqueline’s heart went all aflutter at the idea of being rescued! Well, just because they weren’t successful didn’t mean they wouldn’t try again! This turn of events filled her with a daring boldness.

“Listen. I’m sorry your life of crime hasn’t always worked out but killing me won’t fix it!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, both aggravated, afraid but chastising in all the same voice.

“You must work to stay,” came a loud, mammoth voice that drowned out the sound of the sea around them. When the Somali spoke, everyone quieted down.

“I do not wish to stay! I don’t even know where we’re going!” she yelled at the immense man steering the ship.

“You work or we give you to the sea. That is the deal,” he said, not even looking at her. He kept his eyes forward, instinctively following a path known only to him.

A vice-like grip came around her wrist as a callous thumb stroked her soft, regal skin. “Let’s have a good ol’ fashioned plank walkin’! We haven’t had one in some time.” It was an older man, weather-beaten by a life at sea.

She tried to pull her wrist back, but he wouldn’t release. Another hand shot out from the crowd and grabbed her shoulder. A third grabbed the end of her braid. The force of their combined strength uprooted Jacqueline and they dragged her to the side of the boat. The chain and collar were heavy on her neck.

She kicked and screamed, trying to regain her own footing. “LET ME GO!” Tears shimmered on the side of her eyes as panic constricted her pupils to tiny black dots. “PLEASE DON’T DO THIS!”

The icy spray of the waves licked upwards, spraying the crowd near the edge. Maybe the gods would give them better favor with this offering.

“I’LL WATCH OVER THEM!” Jacqueline screamed amongst the forest of hands grabbing at her flesh and clothes. Everyone wanted to throw her into the sea. Almost muted by the sheer amount of men around her she tried poking her head upwards to the Somali. “PLEASE! I’LL AID THE CAPTAIN!” The mounting tears broke over the threshold of her eyes as she felt unidentifiable hands slide up her thighs and back, grabbing and pinching with their dirty fingers.

His stone eyes slid in her direction and he watched her fight against the men. The Princess looked as if she were drowning in them.

“OH GOD! PLEASE!” Jacqueline screamed again, as half of her left side dangled off the deck, a black, hungry ocean waiting below.

“STOP!”

Finally, the Somali at the helm interfered, thinking she had enough. The group seemed disappointed and slowly, very slowly, withdrew. They dropped her on the safe side of the ship and left her there.

The angry mob grumbled, displeased at the lack of violence while Jacqueline cried on the salty plank floor, scared to death. She was truly a pitiful thing, shivering and sobbing, having become emotionally unhinged at the actions of the last five minutes.

And she had been doing so well.

“Well?” called the Somali, who was once again looking at the black horizon, “What are you waiting for, girl?”

The Princess looked up, eyes puffy from tears. She was going to tend to the very men who trapped her. If making them comfortable would keep her alive, so be it. That was what had to be done.

Unfortunately, Jacqueline didn’t know the first thing about serving the needs of others.

Still feeling the burning eyes of the raging crew, she skedaddled straight away to the Captain’s quarters, going to have to put her pity party on hold. Retreating inside the room, Jacqueline bravely peeked out around the doorway only to receive a bloodshot, vicious stare from the unsafe world outside.

With a frightened squeak, she completely vanished inside, seeking refuge amidst the groans and bleeding. Frankly, the dying men inside were better company.

* * *

On Rocqueburne’s shore, two black lumps crawled their way up from the briny depths. Father Cordinae and his apprentice grabbed at the sand, coughing and wheezing at the firm feeling of solid ground.

Novice looked over her shoulder, just catching the sight of The Silver Ogre’s Revenge leaving. They were fleeing the bay.

“Where will they go?” she said, trying to keep her shivering to a minimum.

Her master pushed himself up. He couldn’t continue to bleed all over the sand. “More than likely,” Father Cordinae breathed deeply, attempting to push the pain from his mind, “They will go to the Spanish port city, Paradiso. Their waters are sympathetic to the untouchable lot.” The old assassin found it hard to ignore the floating shrapnel in his flesh.

It was the only port hospitable to pirates nearby. By sea, Paradiso was almost a week away. By land, it would only take two days. One could easily travel directly across the continent, rather than having to take the long way around by sea.

“We will meet them there,” the monk said, planning the chase in his mind. Failing the Queen wasn’t an option.