“Blazes, you’re stuck up!” another drunk called. “You need a man, you do!” A chorus of loud laughter followed the statement.
Jules clenched her fist, her movement paused, but decided to let it pass rather than let things get worse. She took a step back toward the door.
“How about him?” a female pirate called, shoving at a tall pirate. “He’s a looker! And not bad, if you know what I mean!”
“How would she know what you mean?” another yelled, setting off more laughter.
The male pirate wavered to his feet, grinning, partially blocking Jules’ path to the door. “Yeah. How about it?”
“No,” Jules said. “Get out of my way.”
“She’s shy!” a pirate at the back of the room called.
The pirate in front of her kept smiling, the wine on his breath easy to smell as he spoke again. “Come on! I can be gentle, I can! Unless you like it rough!”
Fighting her temper, Jules felt her face hardening into an expression that anyone not drunk would’ve been intimidated by. “I said no.” She used one arm to push him partly aside and took a step past him toward the door.
“Stuck-up bitch!” the man cried.
She felt a large hand grab her backside.
Jules’ eyes hazed red. When her vision cleared, she found herself facing the pirate again. Her dagger was in her hand, and the point of the dagger was in the man’s chest perhaps a thumb’s width. Had it gone in any deeper, the man’s heart would’ve been pierced.
His eyes huge with shock, the pirate stumbled back, tripping over another pirate and falling, blood staining his shirt.
The room had once again fallen silent. “Get back to your ships,” Jules said between her teeth, pointing her dagger toward the pirates. “NOW!”
They edged past her, eyes wide, momentarily intimidated.
Jules followed, her dagger still out, worried that some of the drunks would regain foolish courage and try to attack her in the street. But they were all headed for the waterfront, grumbling and complaining.
Going back inside, Jules hoisted the half-empty case of wine and hauled it to the commander’s house, where a pirate was stationed to prevent looting. “All of these remaining bottles had better still be full in the morning,” Jules warned him.
Tired and angry, she went back to the Sun Queen.
* * *
“Captain Jules? Captain Erin is here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
Erin came into Jules’ cabin, her expression somber.
“It’s pretty late for a social call,” Jules said.
“You know why I’m here,” Erin said.
“Because some drunks from your ship complained that I was mean to them?”
“Not just that.”
“Have a seat,” Jules said, waiting until Erin sat. “What is it, then?”
“One of my crew was injured, he says by your knife. The others back him up.”
“And you’re here to render judgment on me?” Jules asked.
“No,” Erin said, her words short. “I came to hear your side of things before making any decisions. Did you cut that man?”
“Yes.”
“Was there a reason, besides him not following orders from you?”
Jules didn’t answer for a moment, resisting the urge to refuse to defend her actions since they didn’t need any defense. “There was reason.”
Erin rubbed her eyes as if weary. “Will you share it with me?”
“The man propositioned me. I told him no. Twice. Then he assaulted me.”
Her hand came down and Erin glared at Jules. “You told him no two times and still he laid hands on you?”
“That’s right.”
“That was not told me. But I don’t doubt your word, even if I’d be wary of the claims of drunken sailors anyway. You had every right to cut the man.” Erin paused to study Jules. “Why didn’t you kill him? That’s your reputation.”
“I honestly don’t know,” Jules said. “Something stayed my hand.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t. It could’ve made for bad blood between our ships.”
“There’s been enough blood spilled in this town.”
Erin nodded. “Aye.” She stood up. “Captain Jules, I apologize on behalf of my ship for the insult and the attack rendered against you. The man responsible will have his punishment, and if he balks I’ll put him off the ship.”
“Thank you, Captain Erin.” Jules waved inland. “I put what was left of the wine in the commander’s house under guard. Those other drunks from your ship and the Storm Queen stole what they drank from their shipmates.”
“I’ll ensure my crew, and Captain Lars, know that as well.” Erin nodded in farewell. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After Erin left, Jules still sat with a single lantern burning, gazing morosely out the cabin’s stern windows.
Another knock on the door made Jules flinch. Angry, she spoke sharply. “What? Who’s there?”
“Shin, Captain Jules. May I speak with you?”
Gritting her teeth in upset at having talked to Shin like that, Jules schooled her voice to be nicer. “Of course you can. Come in. Please.”
She stood up as Shin entered. He looked tired from his day’s work, but Jules thought she saw something else, some other problem, riding beneath the outer weariness. “Please sit down.”
“Thank you.” Shin sat, facing her, waiting while Jules also sat down.
“Is something wrong?” Jules asked, worried for him.
“It may be,” Shin said. He looked at her with an intense gaze. “I heard there was some trouble ashore tonight.”
“I handled it,” Jules said.
“So we heard. From Captain Erin.”
“I don’t have to explain every detail of my life to everyone around me,” Jules said, irritated again.
“You were an Imperial officer, Jules. You know an incident such as that should be reported.”
“All right,” Jules said, looking away. “I should have told Ang when I got back to the ship. It’s not like I killed that sailor.” She paused. “I almost did. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“That bothers you,” Shin said. “That you don’t know why you didn’t kill him.”
“Maybe. I’m under a lot of pressure.”
He nodded in understanding. “Your friends worry for you.”
Jules had to fight down a surge of annoyance. “My friends should realize that their friends sometimes need to deal with things on their own.”
“There is a darkness in you, Jules. It has grown even in the time I have been with you. Something hard and cold looks out from your eyes at times.”
She was momentarily unable to answer, shocked by what he had said. When at last she found words, she shook her head at him. “There’s probably no one else but you that I’d let say that to me.”
“That is a problem,” Shin said. “You do not want even those closest to you speaking their concerns for you.”
“Shin, you’re not just a brother because we were both raised in an Imperial orphanage. You’re as much a brother to me as a man born of my mother would have been. But even you can push me too far.”
He nodded again, but there was no sense of agreement in the gesture. Looking at the deck between them, he spoke in a lower voice. “Jules, there is something I must tell you. Something I have never spoken of to anyone else.”
Her irritation vanished again, washed away by a wave of worry for her oldest friend. “What is it?” Jules said, surprised by the way he sounded and starting to dread what Shin might be preparing to say, though she had no idea what it might be.
“One of the things I remember most about the orphan home,” Shin began, surprising her again by speaking of that, “was the dreams of you and many others. Do you remember those dreams?”
“I had a lot of dreams,” Jules said. “None of them came true.”
Shin looked up and frowned at her. “That is not true. You earned the right to become an I
mperial officer. Didn’t you tell me how much you dreamed of being able to prove that you were as good as anyone else, even though you had been raised in an orphanage and were looked down upon?”
“I’ll concede that dream almost came true,” Jules said.
“But there were other dreams. Do you remember? You’d imagine that your mother was still alive, and that one day she would miraculously show up at the orphanage to take you home and take care of you once more.”
He paused, and Jules nodded, memories of old despair filling her. She rested one elbow on the table, her hand to her forehead. “Yes. How could I forget that? I cried myself to sleep more than once when I was a little girl because I’d convinced myself that would happen and it didn’t. But I accepted the truth eventually. We all had to do that.”
Shin stayed silent for a moment, then spoke in an even lower voice. “I was different. Your dream was my nightmare.”
“Nightmare? I don’t understand.”
“I feared that my mother might someday come, that she wasn’t dead, and that she might take me home.”
Jules stared at him, questions tumbling through her brain. But all she could get out was one word. “Why?”
“Not all women succeed at the task of mothers,” Shin said, his eyes still on the floor, his words coming out slowly in that very quiet voice. “I remember nothing of my father. He died when I was so young that there are no memories of him. Because of that, I also have no memories of what my mother was like when he was alive. She must have been different then, I think. But my father died serving in the legions. And my mother…in the time I knew her, something was broken inside. Something was wrong. My memories of her…are of pain and of fear.”
Jules’ breath caught. “Shin…”
“It is hard for you to understand, I am certain,” he said. “She would be fine at some times, but other times would suddenly become angry over the smallest of things. Enraged and striking at us. I was so small, but I tried to protect myself and I tried to protect my sister.”
“Sister?” Jules stared at him. “You have a blood sister?”
“I had a blood sister,” Shin said, his voice growing so faint she could barely hear it. “A year younger than me. We were so small, but when the night was dark and quiet, and our mother asleep, we would plot in whispers of the day we would escape. We would go to school one day, perhaps, and never come home. We would walk in another direction, until we found a safe place.”
“What happened?” Jules asked, her own voice faint, dreading to hear the answer.
Shin sighed. In anyone else, it would have sounded theatrical. But his sigh carried the weight of too much hidden pain to be anything but real. “I had begun my first year of schooling, relieved to be away from home for part of each day, but my sister, a year younger, would not start for another year. I went each day, fearing for my sister while I was gone. One day…” He paused once more, breathing deeply. “I came home from school and…the memories are vague. I have never been able to remember much of that day. There was blood. I think I ran to the house of one of our neighbors, screaming for help. Somehow I ended up there. They took me inside, and one went to get the Emperor’s police. I sat in a corner of their home for a long time, listening to shouting outside.”
Shin paused again. “The shouting stopped. It grew dark. Finally, two officers of the police came to me. A man and a woman. I do remember that the man wouldn’t look at me, but the woman did, and she seemed very sad. She said they would take me to my new home, where I would live from then on. I asked about my sister. They…said nothing. I asked about my mother. They said my mother could no longer care for me. They took me to the orphanage, and there I remained. But ever after I worried that someday my mother would appear at the orphanage and tell me I must come with her. I didn’t know for certain if she was dead, you see.”
“Was she?” Jules whispered.
“Yes. Some time after I joined the legions, I went back, because I wanted to learn where my sister had been buried. The police report said only that there had been a fight and my mother had died as a result. She and my sister had both been burnt as the bodies of the poor often are, their ashes scattered in the Park of Memory.”
Jules felt tears coming. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
He shook his head as if its weight was hard to bear. “You could not have understood back then. You, and the others, could not have understood that your dreams of happiness were the same as my nightmare.”
“Why are you telling me now?”
Shin raised his head to meet her eyes, his voice a little louder. “For two reasons. I know you carry a burden, but I don’t think you realize the burdens that others carry as well. Burdens inside them that no one else may know of, that they alone must carry, even though no one else can see them.”
“It’s not the same,” Jules said, then instantly regretted her words. “I’m sorry. I have no right to say that. I have no idea how I would have… I’m sorry. Are you telling me I should stop feeling like the burden is crushing me?”
“No,” Shin said. “Only you can feel that weight. But others can help you bear it, if you let them.”
“That’s easier said than done.” Jules wiped at her face angrily. “This doesn’t make sense. You were a brother to every orphan who needed help or protection. You protected me. You’ve always been kind and strong. You’ve never shown your past in your actions.”
“I have shown my past,” Shin said. “Just not in the way that people expect. I made a choice, Jules, and that is the second reason I told you of my past. I had suffered. I had failed to protect my sister. I had seen what could happen to those who could not protect themselves, and I had felt what it was like when others lost control of themselves. I made a vow to myself, those first nights in the orphanage. I would not stand by and let others suffer. I would do what I could to help others who needed help. I would not hurt without cause, no matter how angry I became.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because of what I said earlier. I, and your other friends, have seen a deeper darkness growing inside you, my sister. There has always been a hard center to you, a place inside where you would never yield, no matter what happened. That hard center has served you well. But you’ve grown even harder inside, as if you seek to seal off your heart and show only anger to the world.”
Her emotions torn because of Shin’s revelations, Jules waved an irate hand in dismissal of his words. “I have every right to be harder inside.”
“The choice is yours,” Shin said. “But it is a choice. This is also why I told you my secret. No one can control what the world does to us. No one can prevent pain and suffering and injustice. What we can control is who we choose to be in the face of such things. I choose to be, I have tried to remain, the man you call brother.”
Jules squeezed her eyes shut, a storm raging inside her. “And you don’t like the choices I’ve made?”
“Your choices are yours to make. I cannot make you change them. I only wished to tell you my concern.”
“Why?” Jules demanded, rubbing her eyes. “Why come in here and dump this on me?”
“Because I am still your brother of the heart, and I still want to protect you. My shield and my sword cannot defend you against the darkness. That is why I told you of my past.”
“You never told anyone else?”
“No. It was too hard.”
“But you told me.” She covered her face with both hands, trying to regain her emotional balance. “Blazes, Shin. I never realized you’d been carrying that around inside you all this time.”
“Yes.” He sighed again. “It is strange. There is another reason I haven’t told anyone before this. I don’t want people to think ill of my mother.”
“What? But she—”
“She was broken.” Shin looked earnestly at Jules. “I cannot believe if she had been whole that she would have done such things. She was hurt. I cannot forget the ill she did, but I do not wan
t others to hate her. I do not want to hate her, even though it is very hard. My sister…I failed her. I do not want to fail you.”
“Shin…” Jules got up, going to the stern windows to stare out into the darkness. Without really willing it, she turned her head to look at the drawing that was her sole memento of Mak, remembering how he’d felt about the wife and daughter he’d lost, and how he kept that from showing except on rare occasions. “There’s so much I have to do. I don’t know how to do it. It seems impossible, an endless road to endless failure. I don’t know why I’m not already dead several times over. Maybe tomorrow the Mages will finally finish me, or the Emperor’s agents will get me, or the Mechanics will once again decide I’m too much trouble. And…”
He waited, saying nothing.
“I have to do it alone. I’ve never been the easiest person to know,” Jules said. “I’m not exactly a romantic dream. But before, I could imagine finding someone. A partner in life. Having a family. Now…I could’ve killed that man tonight. Not for the insult. For laughing at me because I can’t look at any man without thinking of that prophecy.”
Shin spoke in the same quiet voice. “You are not alone. You have friends. You have allies. They did not have to help you. They want to. You made that happen.”
“Sure. I’m so warm and fuzzy. Everybody wants to cuddle with me.” Jules turned to look at him again. “Yes, I feel the dark inside me. I guess I’ve been scared of that, too. Where do I find the light, Shin? How did you do it?”
“I found that when I reached out to others, they brought light with them. Do you remember the times we would laugh? You would make a very silly joke, and we would laugh, and I would feel stronger and happier. If you seal yourself inside, the darkness grows. If you open yourself to others, the light can come in.”
“The darkness is very strong, Shin.”
“I know. Sometimes others are not enough. In such times, I am told, healers can help.”
“I need to be able to stand on my own,” Jules said.
“That doesn’t mean you always have to stand alone,” Shin said. “And when you succeed, you should try to feel that success. You have always looked for what you didn’t do well so you could beat that challenge. That’s given you strength. But you need to let yourself be happy with what you did do.”
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