The Lady Captain

by Caylen McQueen

  “I have another name for you,” Lettie said as she glared at him. “Thief.”

  “I can accept that, as long as you know I'm a thief and a gentleman!” When Julian brought his face closer to hers, she leaned away from him. “I spared your men, didn't I? Surely you can appreciate that? I don't like to kill people. The thought of blood on my hands is just so... unpleasant.”

  “You can go to hell!” she shouted at him.

  “Well... that's not very nice, is it?”

  “You stole my ship,” Lettie coldly stated. “That's all I need to know to detest you.”

  “You brought it on yourself, lady,” Jolly suddenly interjected, which brought a puzzled scowl to Lettie's brow.

  “What?” she shrilled.

  “You started it. You were following us. We retaliated,” Jolly explained. His voice was eerily monotone.

  “I wasn't following anyone!” Lettie shrieked. “We just happened to be heading in the same direction... that's all!”

  “Is that so?” Julian's eyebrow was skeptically raised. “According to Jolly, you turned whenever we turned. You were tailing us.”

  “No, I wasn't!” Lettie insisted. “We just happened to be following the same path! Until you started firing at us, we were barely paying attention to you!”

  “Bullshit!” Jolly roared. “You was following us, and you know it!”

  Julian disapprovingly clicked his tongue. “Language, Jolly! Watch your language in front of the lady! While she's with us, she's to be treated with the utmost respect!”

  “Oh, that's just hilarious.” Lettie's remark was accompanied by a snort. “You attack me, you steal my airship, and now you want to talk about respect? I think it's a little too late for that, Thief. And just so you know, I'll eventually get my revenge. One day... just you wait!”

  Ignoring her threat, Julian told her, “Your men have been imprisoned. When the time comes, I'll release them. As for you, you're a guest on this ship. You seem to be harboring a bit of resentment, which is perfectly understandable, but I hope you can behave yourself while you're here.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Lettie was so enraged, she could feel her hands shaking, so she stuffed them in her pockets. Jolly thought she was reaching for a weapon, so he watched her closely. “Why would you attack a random airship? Why do you go around stealing other ships? Where's the joy in that?”

  “Oh, there's plenty of joy in that!” Julian answered with a chuckle. “You've heard of Robin Hood, right? He robs from the rich and gives to the poor.”

  “Is that what you do?” she asked.

  “Close! I rob from the rich and give to... myself.” Julian winked at her, which had Lettie wishing she could punch the smug grin off his face. As long as Jolly was watching her, Lettie's hands were as good as tied. The captain didn't intimidate her, but his first mate certainly did.

  “You won't get away with this, you know,” she promised him. “My father's the admiral... he'll come after you! And so will my fiance. When they come looking for me, you're going to be in a lot of trouble!”

  “Sounds exciting!” Julian clapped his hands together, as if to mock her.

  “You have no idea how much this voyage meant to me! It was everything to me! Everyone was counting on me!” Unwelcome tears rushed into Lettie's eyes as she screamed at him. “You've ruined everything, you ass!”

  Though he grimaced at her words, the captain didn't look especially remorseful. “Well... sorry.”

  “Sorry? That's all you have to say? Sorry?” When Lettie raised her fist at him, Jolly shoved it back down. “You've ruined my life, Captain Featherstone. You understand that, right? You've taken everything from me. You say I'm a guest on this airship, but you better sleep with one eye open... because if I have a chance to retaliate, I'm going to take it.”

  “Then I'm as good as dead,” Julian said with a shrug. “I'm a pretty heavy sleeper. I mean, I really love my sleep. Once I get going, it's like I'm in a coma.”

  When she heard his sarcasm, Lettie spat in his face. Though Julian barely flinched, Jolly didn't appreciate it. He shoved her backward, away from the captain. “I hate you!” she screamed at Julian. “Hate! I swear to God, if it's the last thing I do, I will end you!”

  “I'm afraid you're wrong, dear. You might say you hate me now, but you'll love me eventually.” Julian flashed his sweetest smile. “All women do.”

  Nine

  “Well, here we are! The lovely city of Bordeaux!” Vee exclaimed. In one hand, she held her shotgun, and with her other hand, she shoved the prince forward. “And when I say lovely, I mean it's a piece of shit.”

  “I thought you liked this city?” Nico said, though he struggled to imagine how anyone could have a favorable opinion of it. They had supposedly entered the decent part of town, but the houses were shambles, the shop windows were shattered, and there were patches of blood on the cobbled ground. The sound of distant gunfire inspired the yowling of a feral cat.

  “I do like it. It's a shit hole, but it's an exciting shit hole. There's never a dull moment.” As Vee spoke, they passed an elderly vagrant. Nico made eye contact, which was a mistake. The man smiled toothlessly and shoved his hand down the front of his breeches. “You learn to love it after awhile.”

  “Yeah... no. I don't think I could,” Nico rejected the thought.

  “I'm sorry, but we have to walk the rest of the way to the whorehouse,” Vee told him. The prince wasn't walking fast enough for her, so she shoved him forward. “We need to get there before the sun goes down, because that's when the real riffraff comes out.”

  When Nico heard a scream, he froze. It took him a moment to find its source. Not far away, two well-dressed thugs were poking out another man's eye. In broad daylight.

  “It gets worse than this?” a sighing Nico asked. “I can't imagine.”

  “Keep walking!” Vee slapped his head, so he resumed his march and increased his pace. “A pretty boy like you should be off the streets before nightfall. To be honest, I don't think I could protect you.”

  A small, shirtless, barefoot brunette boy suddenly ran up to Vee and tugged her sleeve. “Please, ma'am!” the beggar boy pleaded with her. “Please, can you spare some coin? I haven't eaten in days!”

  “Git!” She tried to shove the boy, but he was persistent.

  “Please!” the boy begged. “My little sis is hungry too! For the last three days, we ain't eaten nothing but the fleas on our coats!”

  “Hey, at least you're lucky enough to have coats,” Vee carelessly shrugged. “At least you won't freeze to death.”

  Nico's thick eyebrows were pinched with concern. He asked Vee, “Can't you give him something? He looks so sad!”

  “If you're that concerned, you give him something,” Vee retorted with a snort.

  “I would, but you seized my belongings! I have nothing left to give!” Nico frowned at the boy, who looked a bit like himself as a child, albeit with filthy, sunken cheeks. His face was a heartbreaking sight.

  “He probably works for someone,” Vee said. “From time to time, thugs will hire boys like this and get them to beg for money. And they target unsuspecting fools like you. At the end of the day, they hand over their earnings to the crook, who gives them a place to sleep and food to eat.” Vee sneered at the child. “This kid is working for someone. I'd bet my life on it.”

  “Still... it feels wrong to let him walk away with nothing. We really don't know what his situation is.”

  Vee groaned at the sight of the prince's pitiful face. He had the eyes of a puppy. She shouldn't have let those eyes get to her, but she did. With a grumbled curse, she fished a few pennies from her pocket and flicked them at the boy, who gasped with delight.

  “Thank you, miss!” the boy excitedly thanked her as he crouched to collect the coins. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Vee didn't care to accept his gratitude, she just wanted to reach her destination. Because it had been awhile since she slapped or shoved the prince,
she slapped and shoved him. “Now... shut your mouth, Prince. I'm not giving any handouts to anyone else!”

  They walked five blocks, and they had five more blocks to go before they reached The Velvet Dame, Bordeaux's premier whorehouse and pub. Nico couldn't imagine why they even needed a brothel, since there were prostitutes on every corner. Several of them called out to Nico, promising him the night of his life. He tried to ignore them, but it was difficult, since most of them were barely dressed. On each street, he saw an average of six nipples.

  “If you're lucky, this place will make a man out of you,” Vee said. “And hell, maybe I'll make a man out of you! If you're well-behaved, I'll buy you a night with a whore or two. I feel bad that you lost your little finger.”

  “Really?” He expected her to say she was lying, to say she didn't actually give a damn about Nico and his pain, but she had nothing else to add to the topic.

  When they reached the brothel's bright red double doors, Vee halted. “Well, we're here. Are you ready, Prince?”

  Nico braced himself and nodded. He didn't know what to expect behind the doors, but he assumed it would be something bawdy and scandalizing. To his surprise, the interior of The Velvet Dame looked like any other pub—apart from one obvious detail. Its barmaids were scantily clad. Having lived the life of a sheltered prince, Nico had seen very few naked women, but after a few minutes in Bordeaux, the number had quadrupled.

  Suddenly, he heard someone squeal, “Vee!”

  When he saw the woman who came rushing toward them, Nico's eyes nearly popped from his skull. She had the largest breasts he had ever seen, and they were exploding from the top of a tight-fitting bodice.

  “Ah, Frances!” With open arms, Vee greeted the woman. At first, they hugged—and then their tongues emerged. As the women locked lips, Nico couldn't stop staring.

  Vee's hands wandered all over the woman's voluptuous body. When she started grabbing her in inappropriate places, Nico finally looked away, blushing furiously. Standing beside his captor as she groped her lover was easily the most awkward moment of his life.

  “Mmm!” Vee moaned. As her lips left Frances', she swatted the busty woman's rear end. “We have a lot of catching up to do, Frances... and believe me, I'm dyin' for it. But first, I have to get rid of the boy.” She thrust a thumb at Nico.

  “I have just the person you need, Vee. She doesn't have anything better to do right now.” Frances glanced to the left, where a pretty blonde woman was cleaning the bar. “Mae... get over here!”

  The woman named Mae immediately dropped her rag and sprinted toward them. “Yes, Madam?” Mae dutifully answered the call. Her back was so stiff and straight, she looked like a soldier reporting for duty. Nico almost expected her to salute.

  Frances explained, “I'm leaving this young man in your care. It's very important that you keep an eye on him. Don't let him leave, and make sure he doesn't cause trouble. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Of course, Madam.” As she bobbed a curtsy, Mae's cleavage nearly overflowed from her bodice. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No. Nothing. Have fun.” Having finished her speech, Frances captured Vee's arm and led her toward the pub's back rooms. Nico assumed he wouldn't see either of them for a very long time.

  “So...” When she was alone with the prince, Mae lightly tapped his shoulder. “What's your name?”

  “Nico,” he answered with a sigh. “Prince Nico.”

  “Prince?” The woman erupted in a fit of giggles. When his expression didn't change, her laughter gradually faded. “Wait, are you serious? Are you actually saying you're the prince?”

  “I am.”

  “Right. Uh huh. And I'm the queen of bloody Englund! You're so silly!” She snorted and swatted his arm. “Anyway, I'm Mary Melissa Mae... but everyone just calls me Mae.”

  “It's... nice to meet you?” Nico's response sounded suspiciously like a question.

  “Come'ere, let me pour you a drink! You look like you could use one!” Mae seized the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the bar, where she poured him a frothy ale. “We have the best drinks in the city, if I do say so myself!”

  “Yeah?” Nico accepted the mug from her hand, but he didn't drink. As he glanced around the room, he counted at least twenty half-naked women. “And that's not all you have. If I had to guess, I'd say your drinks aren't the biggest draw.”

  “Ah, yeah. That's true. We have the best prostitutes too!” Mae cheerfully claimed.

  “You say that like you're proud, but I think it's kind of... sad.” Nico pouted. “All of these women deserve something better than this.”

  “These women are happy, I promise. You don't need to pity them.” A bald drunk staggered to the bar and waved his hand. He didn't even need words—Mae knew exactly what he wanted. She poured him a glass of whiskey and slid it down the bar. After collecting his drink, the drunk walked away looking smug and satisfied.

  “Listen, I desperately need to talk to someone.” Nico leaned closer to Mae. With his lips hovering above her ear, he whispered, “I really am the prince, and I've been captured.”

  “Uh huh.” Mae didn't look or sound convinced. Deeming him unworthy of her full attention, she reclaimed her rag and started to clean the bar again.

  “I'm not joking, Mae. I'm completely serious. I was captured by a masked man named Thomas Harriot. Vee was working with him. They're in a terrorist group and they're replacing me with some kind of clone. Harriot cut off my finger, and then Vee dragged me to Bordeaux against my will. And now I—”

  “Let me stop you right there!” Mae interrupted him. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?”

  “But it's not ridiculous! It's true! All of it!” Nico accidentally made eye contact with one of the nearly naked prostitutes. When she caught him looking at her, the woman sensually licked her lips. When he turned away from her, his eyes went wide. “I have to get out of here, okay? I have to get out of here now.”

  “Good luck with that,” Mae said, chuckling at Nico's preposterous predicament. Ever since he claimed to be a prince, she didn't believe a word of his story. Her daily encounters with lunatics had turned her into a skeptic. “There are guards all around us. They keep the customers in line, and they stop the women from leaving the pub. They've probably been ordered to watch you too.”

  “Wait... the women aren't allowed to leave the pub?”

  Mae shook her head. “Nope.”

  “So they're basically trapped here?”

  This time, Mae nodded. “Yep.”

  “And you really think they're happy?” Nico finally lifted the mug to his lips. He wasn't a fan of liquor, but after the last two days, a drink was sorely needed.

  “Sure! They get food, drink, shelter, attention and protection. Believe me, if they were out on the street, it would be a lot worse.” To emphasize her point, Mae repeated loudly, “A lot.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. Not far away, a broad-shouldered man was holding a broken bottle in his hand. Wielding the bottle's sharp edge as a weapon, he took a swipe at the man across from him, who leapt aside and countered with a punch. The punch landed in the larger man's stomach, but he wasn't staggered in the slightest.

  “Ooo... bar brawl,” murmured a wincing Mae. “This happens every now and then.”

  “Why are they fighting? Do you know?”

  Mae didn't respond right away. She was intently watching the fray, as were the pub's guards. As long as the women weren't being attacked, the guards appreciated a bit of violence—and this particular fight was certainly violent. The large man pummeled the smaller man's jaw, and the small man retaliated with a kick to the groin. When the bigger brawler was doubled over, he got an elbow to the head.

  “I mean...” Mae started to speak, but when the big guy started swinging the broken bottle, she paused. The bottle came so close to slitting the smaller man's throat, she stopped breathing for a moment. “The reason for the f
ight is anyone's guess... but I bet they're fighting over Whitney. She's been spending time with both of them, and now they don't want to share her. It happens. When the regulars start getting attached to the girls they're bedding, things can get a little messy.”

  When the smaller man's arm was sliced by the shattered bottle, and splatters of blood colored the floor, one of the guards finally intervened. “Kieran!” shouted the guard. “Kieran McCray, put down that weapon, or we'll toss you out!”

  Kieran kicked the smaller man's knees, which sent him toppling to the floor. As soon as his enemy was adequately trounced, he relinquished the broken bottle, sank back to his chair, and defiantly crossed his arms.

  “Kieran McCray...” Nico whispered. “For some reason, that name sounds familiar.”

  “Kieran's a regular. He comes here every day. Well... nearly every day,” Mae explained. “I think he used to be a big-name mercenary in Lundun. I've heard stories. He helped a princess or something like that. But now he's a lowlife wastrel, just like everyone else here.”

  “That's kind of sad.” Though he tried to sympathize with the fallen mercenary's plight, at the moment, Nico found it difficult to pity anyone but himself.

  As soon as the prince finished his drink, Mae took the mug from his hand and gave him a refill. “You know...” Foam tumbled over the edge of the mug as she filled it to the brim. “Prince or not, I think you're pretty cute, Nico.”

  “Really?” His nose wrinkled. Compliments were rare, especially compliments from beautiful women, and Mae was undoubtedly lovely. Her honey blonde hair flowed down her back. Her bright green eyes were wide and sparkling, making her look very approachable.

  “Oh, yeah. Very cute!” Mae's compliment distracted him. For a moment, he stopped looking for a way to escape and focused his attention on her. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty three.” When Nico sipped from his mug, he ended up with a mustache of foam. Mae gently wiped it with her thumb.

  “Oh, really? Me too!”

  Nico's eyes lit up. “Really?”