The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Home

by Joseph Fink

  But Vlad grew despondent. He kept up his monthly letters, but his demeanor aboard The Wasp had become more bloodthirsty, less disciplined. We could not always control his violence in altercations. Getting him more involved in this greater conflict would assuredly focus his energy.

  Nathan, however, was a problem.

  I approached the first mate in his berth. He was, as usual, writing in his log.

  “First mate,” I called, with Samuel behind me. Nathan stood at attention. “I have been made aware of the Order of the Labyrinth’s war on the Persian spice traders.”

  Nathan’s face contorted, preparing for an argument. I continued, “The Wasp, of course, is not built for naval conflict, so I do not believe this is a tenable mission. Not to mention Holger has not authorized such an action. The crew is restless for greater battles, so I seek your opinion.”

  “Captain, it is with only great respect that I caution you that—” Nathan began smugly, but he was stopped short by the sound of a loud crash from above deck.

  We heard shouting, surrounded by cheering as the three of us scrambled up the stairs.

  On the main deck we saw Vlad standing over one of the other crew, a slab of a boy who worked in the kitchen. The boy’s thick, round face was marred by a deep purple welt that was oozing blood at an alarming rate. The rest of the crew was cheering on the battle. The boy scrambled to his feet, but Vlad barked while dancing around him in a semicircle and waving a broken barrel stave. Vlad had fully lost his mind.

  Nathan broke up the fight, and the galley boy stumbled away, clutching his forehead. Lora grabbed Vlad and held him in place. Nathan ordered the crew back to their stations and then dressed down Vlad, held firmly by both shoulders against Lora’s torso. Vlad literally growled at Nathan. Perhaps he was playing his part a little over the top, but Nathan seemed to buy it, stepping back with a twinge of fear on his face.

  “He is growing restless,” Lora said. “He’s a great fighter being made to pick pockets.”

  “We’re not attacking those spice ships,” I glared at Lora. “This crew is just not equipped for that.”

  “It’s all about wealth and status with you,” Lora roared. “‘We can’t disappoint Holger,’ you say. ‘I’ll never get promoted,’ you say. What about us? What about those of us who use our bodies for your living?”

  Nathan put up a hand to Lora, saying “Sailor, I won’t have you—” but she drove him aside.

  “You don’t even want to fight with the farmers and merchants on shore,” she said. “We all see it. Our captain doesn’t have the stomach to fight!”

  Even though we’d scripted this altercation, I’ll admit, Lora’s words hurt.

  “Stand down, giant!” Nathan shouted. He turned to me, “Captain, I apologize for this disorder and I will deal with it personally. Navigator!”

  Nathan and Samuel retired to Nathan’s room. I hoped Samuel’s performance skills were half as good as Lora’s. A few minutes later, they returned to the deck. Nathan said, “Captain, we have discussed the options, and I believe we should engage the Persian ships.”

  “This would be a big decision. It doesn’t seem wise. Navigator, what do you think?” I asked. Samuel made a show of hesitating, then nodded thoughtfully.

  “Yes, Captain, I believe it may be the right choice.”

  I sighed, bit my lip, and looked over at Vlad who was panting and sharpening his wood plank with a small knife. I pretended to search my conscience.

  “Every person on this ship needs better discipline than they’ve shown to this point,” I proclaimed. “That is your job, first mate. We sail east tomorrow.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Nathan and Samuel said in perfect unison. I did my utmost to maintain my face in an expression of steady worry, but I felt a surge of elation that made me feel like I was ten feet in the air, looking down at my busy crew. Finally, we were moving forward.

  5

  The sea was clear of storms and ships. I was pleased with the former, dismayed by the latter. By the time we had reached Malta, I had seen almost no traffic. Samuel referenced the trade route maps he purchased in Spain, but we did not happen across any Persian ships. Nor did we see any of the familiar Labyrinth flags.

  We docked in Valletta for two nights to sell stolen goods, clearing space in our hold. The crew was given two days off in preparation for a long journey with few stops.

  I approached Samuel about our lack of contact with a single Persian ship.

  “It’s possible an engagement with the Order of the Labyrinth has slowed their travels, Captain.” Samuel looked perplexed, possibly near panic over his failure to locate a single ship.

  I accepted his explanation because impatience had tipped the scale of my judiciousness. Single-minded fervor to join the Order in combat was my sole focus. I had only the excitement of movement after these years of purgatory.

  Samuel routed us to Cyprus. A fortnight of no traffic and unusual rain, culminating in a storm two nights before we arrived. Two of our sailors on the mainmast fell overboard, and I mourned the first loss of life The Wasp had experienced in my fifteen years as captain. Men are a formidable force worthy of our full attention, which is why nature must remind us that it is an immortal god, capable of ending any of us in a moment.

  We limped into the Cyprian port of Lemesós, under the cool glow of a full moon against clear skies. In the port, I saw a ship bearing the flag of the Qajar lion: a golden beast holding aloft a sword, behind it a leering sun, poking up only halfway behind the lion, suggesting the sun was either dawning or hiding.

  As the actual sun mounted the eastern horizon in fantastic animation of the Persian emblem, we scanned the port for potential attack points, as well as vulnerabilities. On the back of the trader ship was the lettering: نیفلد . A Cretan crew member translated this for us as “The Dolphin.” A smaller gunboat docked on The Dolphin’s starboard had no distinctive marks, outside of side-mounted cannons. But otherwise, no flags or titles. Samuel suspected it served as an armed escort for the valuable cargo.

  I sent Rebekah and André on reconnaissance to the other side of the port, where they could size up the crew and potential weapons on the smaller ship. I knew The Dolphin would have tight security and arms of its own, even with the accompanying sentry vessel, but Nathan had a plan for that. We could use The Wasp to blockade the larger Dolphin while subduing the smaller ship. If we could overtake the gunboat, we would have The Dolphin completely surrounded.

  The ships were docked at the far end of the port in Lemesós, which if we could keep any cannons from firing, would buy us more time before police or Cyprian military showed.

  André and Rebekah returned with a report of eight men on the gunboat armed with swords or small blades. They did not see rifles, but there was a single cannon both port and starboard. Rebekah estimated around three dozen on The Dolphin.

  “That will exert every last member of our crew,” I told Nathan. I knew I could not convince him to convince himself to engage in an all-out attack on two ships. I could not even convince myself of this, but I knew where I wanted him to go. Edmond had taught me well on how to manipulate another’s decision-making.

  “Without a larger crew,” he began, “a full assault would be impossible. We need to board The Dolphin under a false pretense. I believe we have a member of our crew who is quite adept at that.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said. “Our objective is to let them know the Order of the Labyrinth owns these waters. A minimum success is to turn them back home. A greater achievement is to remove their cargo and destroy their ship. Can we do this with our small crew, first mate?”

  Nathan thought we could, and we set to work devising a plan.

  Rebekah, dressed as a Cyprian tax collector, would board The Dolphin. She would demand an extra tax on the Persians’ goods. This would draw the captain of the ship into a complicated conversation. This ruse could buy us up to an hour. Meanwhile, Samuel would steer The Wasp directly behind The Dolphin. Lora, having a
ttached hooks to the ends of ropes, would cast those to the ship’s stern, and our crew could climb aboard. Caught off-guard and without attention from their leader, the crew would be off-balance, easier to push back. We would then hold the captain at knifepoint as André led the crew down to the hold to take The Dolphin’s cargo.

  Lora would enter the gunboat on the far easternmost slip. Her goal was simple: attack anything that was in the path of the port cannon. Upon André’s command, she would fire the cannon into the hull of The Dolphin, thus incapacitating it, as the rest of The Wasp crew escaped.

  It was not a foolproof plan, but it was a good plan.

  My hopes were raised as I saw two large brigs sailing into port. My heart raced when I noticed the familiar black flags with white labyrinth emblems proudly whipping atop each mast. I had never felt anything like patriotism or pride in a nation until that moment. I forgot that my goal was to destroy this Order, and instead felt for a moment that us members of the Order were perfectly united against our common enemy. We had perfectly timed our approach. If anything were to go wrong on board The Dolphin, the Order of the Labyrinth ships would arrive momentarily, bolstering our forces and our confidence.

  Samuel maneuvered The Wasp behind The Dolphin, as Lora hurled hooked ropes upward. André and I led the climb, with the rest of the crew coming behind us. Above us was quiet, which I took as an auspicious sign—no alarms, no shouting, only the dull muttering of people being confused over taxes.

  I was halfway up the rope, and I stared out over the open water. The two Order brigs were still there, moving slowly, like a fog, toward the docks. I was tempted to wave to my pirate mates but refrained from such silliness. As I neared the top of the rope, ready to climb over and draw my weapon, I looked once more at the brigs. A doubt had crept in, and I wanted to revisit it.

  The brigs were pointed slightly askance of a port-bound trajectory. They were not stopping here. They were ignoring us. In a crystal moment, knowledge bubbled up from deep in my subconscious. The Order was not in a war with the Persians at all.

  A lump formed in my throat as I crested the deck of The Dolphin. We had prepared for a stealthy entrance onto the deck, at which point we would quietly disperse throughout the aft, catching The Dolphin crew completely off-guard. What we encountered instead was the captain of the ship, only fifteen feet from us, holding a dagger at the throat of a Cyprian tax collector.

  “Drop your swords, and bring me your captain,” the man with the blade said. Surrounding him were two dozen or more armed men. André and I turned back toward our crew to order them to do as instructed. But our crew had not emerged from atop the ropes. A quick glance down and I saw two dozen cowards gliding back down the ropes to The Wasp. On The Wasp’s deck was Nathan calling them back. I counted only eight of our crew reaching the deck of our ship before Nathan cut the ropes to The Dolphin and ordered the sails raised. The remaining dozen or so men on the ropes, no doubt as surprised as I was by Nathan’s betrayal, swung back toward the great cargo ship, slammed hard into the hull, and fell limply into the water below.

  My gut spun, and I felt my knees try to give. I wobbled in place as The Dolphin’s men surrounded André and me.

  We dropped our swords, and I turned toward the man threatening Rebekah. “I am the captain,” I said, and stepped forward. The Persian sailors took our weapons and two of them grabbed André by his arms.

  “I am Captain Iraj,” said the man with the knife at Rebekah’s neck. “Your friend here is a convincing Cyprian but not a convincing tax collector. My ships bring more money to this island than anyone. My closest friend, Mirza, is the head of collections for the city of Lemesós. I know every man in his office, and they would not haggle me over a few thousand piastres.”

  “I dropped my weapon. Let her go,” I said. And Iraj did. Rebekah stepped calmly away from him and stood next to me.

  “Tell me. Why do you raise that flag above your ship?” he asked.

  “We are the Order of the Labyrinth,” I began, but he laughed.

  “Enough with your unconvincing playacting. The Order of the Labyrinth does not involve itself in thievery or barbarism.”

  “You are at war—” I stammered, not believing the explanation I was about to give.

  “I am not at war. I am in business,” Iraj said.

  “This is a misunderstanding,” I said, more to myself than to Iraj. The truth articulated itself for me horribly. Nathan’s mutiny, the deliberate ignorance of our efforts by other Order ships, Captain Iraj’s honest declaration: I was not a member of the Order of the Labyrinth, and neither was anyone I knew. Nathan had betrayed my trust in this assignment, and there was no doubt he had betrayed me much more deeply. “We mean your ship no harm, then,” I added, convinced that we, in fact, did not mean to harm a ship that had nothing to do with the Order of the Labyrinth.

  Iraj laughed again. His warm charm was second only to André’s. “You confuse intention with preparation. You meant great harm to me.”

  Waving lazily to his crew, he concluded, “Kill them.”

  As Iraj’s words came out, André had already grabbed the two men holding him at knifepoint and swung them into three others. He grabbed one of the dropped swords and tossed one to me.

  A sailor swung directly toward the back of André’s head. He ducked as it passed. Whirling, he kicked the man’s legs out. André disarmed him and threw the other sword to Rebekah, who was already running to assist. Captain Iraj and I engaged our blades. He was smiling, with soft, joyful divots deep into his round cheeks. I could tell he had left the young man’s world of soldiering to become a business owner. The spice trade was more lucrative, but nowhere near as thrilling. He looked giddy at the nostalgia of returning to his old fighting form.

  As André and Rebekah battled back his sailors, less competent than their captain with swords, Iraj and I danced about, tapping occasionally but each waiting for the right moment to strike.

  “Keep on your toes,” André shouted. “Reinforcements!”

  I looked over Iraj’s shoulders to see two dozen more of his men, fully armed, charging into the fray.

  “Shit,” I exclaimed, and in my moment of distraction, Iraj lunged.

  I was not prepared. My sword was low and not balanced. I did not have enough time to parry. The sharp tip of Iraj’s blade plunged toward my heart. I had a split second to reconcile my entire life to this point. In the slowing of time, I could hear André shouting Lora’s name. An immense boom jostled the ship and hurled us nearly off our feet. Iraj’s sword veered off-target and I was saved. Everyone tumbled sideways as the blast from the cannon to our starboard side violently shook The Dolphin.

  I ran for the ropes. “André. Rebekah. Down. Go. Go.” The ropes were no longer connected to anything below. The Wasp was well on its way out of the harbor.

  As The Dolphin’s crew scrambled to understand what was happening to their ship, I rushed my friends down the ropes. We were twenty feet above the water. I remembered another time I had been pursued into a position like this with André, and I considered how I was living my life. My head spun with fear, dangling so precariously over the water. Our only hope was to dive into the harbor below, and swim to shore. Iraj’s men would be able to catch up with us, but we would at least be on open land, rather than trapped on that tiny deck. As we neared the bottom, I thought of the days I spent with Albert, jumping into the cove. I was always afraid to jump from the highest rock. It was not the water I feared, but the fall. Well, I would have no choice this time. I saw the rear of the gunboat. I saw Lora waving up at us. When I closed my eyes, I saw Albert encouraging me to jump, telling me not to be afraid. Memory lives inside the eyelids.

  “Swing!” I shouted, and using our legs against the hull of The Dolphin, we rocked the ropes back and forth. Once we had gained enough momentum, we let go, and together we dived. The water made everything go silent and blue. I tasted the sea. Albert would be proud. I closed my eyes and saw my childhood friend. I opened my eyes an
d saw the surface of the ocean breaking around me, and Lora’s enormous hands scooping me up out of the water.

  The three of us crunched onto the gunboat deck in a heap. I tasted splinters in my mouth and heard gunshots from above. A line of men with rifles along the deck of The Dolphin. We were easy targets. André and I scrambled to the masts and Lora steered. A fortunate wind caught our sails, and soon we were clear of immediate danger.

  Out in the bay of Lemesós we watched The Dolphin begin to list portside. The ships of the Order of the Labyrinth were long gone. No other ships followed us. I turned and faced front, as we set out to pursue The Wasp.

  6

  The gunboat we had stolen was fast, much faster than The Wasp, but it was bereft of the money and provisions we needed to survive. Lora wanted to fire the cannon once again and end Nathan and his insolent crew. But we needed our ship and its supplies to get home. Nathan also abandoned more than half of his men during his escape, and I believed the four of us could handle the remaining men aboard.

  Two hours later we had caught up with The Wasp. Using ropes, and ignoring thrown trash and jeers from the crew above, we yoked our two ships together. André, Lora, and I hung by all fours from the ropes and scampered up them to our deck, where we engaged immediately with our former crew. For all of the discipline they had learned under Nathan, and all of their experience assaulting unarmed farmers and merchants, they had learned little in the way of combat with an experienced gang of thieves.