by Dawn Dagger
Levanine and Quinn were standing by the main mast, talking and smiling. They both seemed to be enjoying the good weather and balmy breeze as much as he was. “How goes, Quinn?” He called, hobbling toward them.
“It’s going, Cap’n.” Quinn smiled at him. “Just checked the map. One more sunset of these weather and we’ll be sailing into port. The storm slowed our progress a little, but like I said. We’ve seen small sloops, but none has bothered us.” He nodded up at the white flag of peace fluttering on their mast. “I am concerned we might see Rotharian Bounty Hunters or other pirates and they’ll think we’re traders, however.”
“At this point, we are more of traders than pirates.” Guy tilted his head toward Moskuna’s stack of spice crates and earned a smile from Levanine. “We do not have ship weaponry, then?” He had not overseen the preparations, so he was unsure of what they had.
Quinn shook his head. “‘Tis a good thing this trip is so short.”
Guy nodded, then clapped them both on the shoulders warmly. “Proud of you both, the ship is functioning well. I am impressed.”
Levanine glowed. “Thank you, Captain!”
Guy began to discuss how they would change a few ship rules when they got to port, and how he could not wait for the Red Running Royalty to be beneath his boots once more. Levanine walked away to paint a healer’s cross on the flag to discourage raiders from targeting them. The sun was warm, and Guy felt almost content.
He turned to Levanine, who had turned to ask him a question, but he froze. He tensed as a figure rose high on the deck of the sloop, obscuring the sun. Levanine spun around, her face frightful from his look and he gripped the dagger at his waist.
Levanine let out an airy laugh and stood up, waving at the shadow.
“Good morning, Cedar!” She called.
Cedar? The wolf wound its way down the stairs, picking its paws up and holding its head high. It looked much smaller than he remembered, but he didn’t care. “What is that beast doing on my ship?” He demanded.
“This is Cedar, Captain!” Levanine chirped, skipping over to the monster as it settled on its haunches and watched him with half closed eyes. It let loose a huge yawn, one that presented all of its large, sharp teeth, and then wagged its tail as Levanine began to scratch under its chin.
“Cedar.” He repeated dumbly.
All that remained of his best blade was a small scar in the wood of her chest. He hated her for stealing his blade from him. “Hello, Captain mister sir!” The wolf yapped. She spoke not in a voice that one would expect a dog to have, but in a light, honey golden one. It was almost disgusting. Her mouth did not quite move as a person’s might, but sort of opened and poured out sound.
“She speaks?” He said very slowly, suddenly feeling very, very stupid. Levanine nodded and the wolf grinned at him. “Wood nymph,” he said to himself, earning a chuckle from Quinn,
It explained everything. The nymph had been cut down and split into pieces. By carving the driftwood that she was a part of, he had not only woken her up, but also given her form. She had attacked at first from fright at suddenly being awoken, and then from him attacking her.
He was a fool.
An annoyed fool.
“I am Cedar and I do speak! Thank you for waking me up, even if this body is a tad bit cumbersome. But, it does move! And that’s very fun!” She wiggled her haunches and wagged her tail excitedly.
Levanine grinned at him expectantly. “Ah,” he started,steel reeling, pulling his eyes from the wolf to her face, “How did you repair her and why is she smaller?”
“We-- Quinn and I being ‘we’-- that is, just shaved off a couple layers of wood until we could remove the blade, sir. Quinn was very careful to re-carve all of the details. It took a long while, but it made the stormy day more bearable,” she explained.
Guy nodded slowly. So, Cedar would grow eternally… well, until the tree which she was made of eventually gave up and died. They would have to bring along wood-carving tools to keep the beast at a size that wouldn’t uneven the ship.
Why was he considering bringing her with them? No. Ursona, no. He was either letting the beast free in the woods, or she was going to be part of a new menagerie in his mansion’s grounds.
He wondered, for a moment, why she hadn’t asked them simply to carve her back into the form of a maiden. Maybe she had, maybe Quinn had not been perhaps quite so skilled as to do so. He dispelled the thoughts from his mind as she spoke again,
“Sorry for hurting you, Captain mister sir. Levanine says you are very nice and generous and a good man and you saved her. I am sorry for hurting you. I was scared and then you hurt me so I got mad.”
Levanine’s face turned red to the tips of her ears as Cedar revealed all she had said about the Captain. He was pleased. She was not as scared of him as he thought.
“I am appreciative of her praise.” He bowed his head at her. “I hope you will think of me as a good Captain, Cedar, if you continue to stay with us, wherever that might be.”
She nodded regally.
The men were suddenly watching he and Levanine. Pairs of eyes glared into his skin, she must have felt it too. She was no stupid. He crossed over to her and pulled her close, his lips hovering over her ear. Goosebumps rose along her arms. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, so tight against him her feet were not balanced on the ship.
“They’re watching us,” he whispered.
Her lips shakily met the skin under his ear and she murmured, “I know…”
He looked over her shoulder and to Rakifi, who was watching them beside Palae, his gaze unreadable. Guy hated how closed he could keep his expression. It made his job much harder. “Rakifi!”
“Aye, Captain?”
“Finish painting the flag.”
“Aye, Captain!”
Levanine placed a small hand on his bicep and another on his chest, steadying herself against him as the boat swayed. “Oh, Guy. It’s too hot out her on this deck. Please, please can’t we go inside your cabin where it’s much cooler?”
“Cooler for how long?” He spoke, looking down at her face, loud enough that some of the sailors would hear and spread rumors. Levanine swallowed hard, but he knew it was from being uncomfortable and not from being excited.
Guy kept her close to his hip, painting a fake smile across his face, walking toward the cabin. Once they were inside and the door was closed Levanine sat on the cot, pouting. “It’s too cold in here. I wanted to be out in the sun. I just didn’t want to be on display any longer.”
Guy sighed, nodding. “I am aware, Levanine.” He crossed over to the other side of the room and sat down, his back pressed against the wall, and observed her face as her eyes wandered.
She had pushed a few strings of brown hair from her face, smearing dark red across her forehead. She looked like a tribe woman, maybe even a healer, from Untonopia. Her skin had become well tanned from the work outside on both the island and then ship, she was healthy again-- with a good weight, even if her cheekbones were still a little sharp. Most importantly, her eyes had taken a bit of fierceness on their edges.
Guy suddenly groaned. He was feeling quite awful. Levanine looked at him, concerned. “Cap’n?”
“Hm?”
She crept over to him and knelt beside him, examining his face. “Are you feeling in bad health, Captain?”
He rolled his shoulders to ease their sudden tenseness and shook his head. “I’m fine, I just feel very tired all of a sudden.”
She placed a gentle hand on his knee and he looked at her. “Do not worry.” She smiled at him, her eyes warm. “We will be to your home soon.”
“It will be your home too,” he assured her quietly.
Levanine looked down, then at the top of the cabin, then past his head, as if looking at something he couldn’t see. “I do not have money, unlike the sailors, Captain.” Very obviously, he thought as she paused. Sometimes her obviousness surprised him
freshly. I…” she wrinkled her brow. “Am I free, Captain? Or- or must I stay with you?”
Guy gently took the hand that was on his knee and her eyes flickered to his face. “You are free, but you would do good to stay with me. Avondella will be home to the both of us. You may stay in my mansion and grounds, and we will continue to sail. This is just the beginning of our journey, dear Levanine. I believe that one day you could be a fierce pirate captain with a ship of your own. Maybe,” he leaned forward until their noses were almost touching, a smirk stretching across his lips, “maybe you’ll even have a ship of elves.”
“Pirate elves?” Her voice was a whisper of awe. She seemed unconvinced of her ability to be a Captain, ignoring his encouraging sentences as she so often had.
“Pirate elves.” He agreed, reminding himself he had to write a few letters once they were home. She nodded at him.
Levanine tilted her head sideways, furrowing her brow. “Did you hear that?” She stood a little, her hand brushing the dagger at her hip.
“Hear--” Sudden shouting cut him off. Something was happening.
Chapter 28
Captain Guy and Levanine ran out of the cabin to see the sailors in a flurry of activity, Quinn shouting orders to them above the din. Their white flag was hoisted once more, the cross painted on it dripping like blood and the red burning bright in the sky.
“What’s going on, Quinn?” The Captain shouted, rushing toward him, Levanine tight on his heels. Levanine felt herself tremouring. She had already noticed what the matter was.
Quinn pointed and Guy turned to follow his gaze, his cobalt eyes widening. A dark ship was quickly approaching, three or four times their size. The flag that fluttered atop the mask was black with the red head of a dragon and a golden lion facing opposite directions painted onto it.
She did not know what the symbol meant, but she was rightly frightened.
“Ronarthian ship.” Quinn said softly, as if speaking the misfortune would make it worse.
“Silence!” The Captain thundered, turning suddenly and lifting the short sword he had stored at his side. The men fell quiet, turning to look at him, their faces desperate for some sort of plan. Levanine could not help but notice that some of their eyes looked hungry for a fight, Awla’s eyes one of the many pairs.
“You all, lie down! Have your weapons ready but hidden beneath sheets! Braxton and Silva, act like medics, you fools. Be ready to attack, but not until I say!”
The sailors saluted, chorusing ‘aye Captain!’ and then crept toward any piece of shadow that the ship provided on the sunny day, pulling weapons close to their stomachs and rough sheets over their bodies. Cedar did not have to be commanded. She stepped slowly to the base of the mast and sat with her back against it, holding still enough she looked to be not but a carving on its base.
Levanine held her dagger tightly and followed the Captain and Quinn as they crouched beside the door of the cabin, in the shadow of the deck, just out of sight if the galleon slid past. Braxton and Silva milled about, occasionally crouching beside the men. Silva was a shade of pale Levanine felt she might show.
It was a tense few minutes that they sat in silence, listening to the lapping of waves and the distant buzzing of the men on the galleon. The thing slid up beside them like the vessel of Death, blocking out the sun in the sky and casting a cold shadow over their small sloop.
Levanine held her breath as the men peered over the side, spitting and cursing. For a moment, a vain, silly moment that slipped into her mind despite her panic, she wondered how in the world the Ronartion race had survived.
The men had yellow skin and course, black hair that seemed to sprout from everywhere on their bodies. They had shrew-ish black eyes that burned with fury. Levanine found them incredibly ugly.
“Sick bastards!”
“We’re gonna string you up! Watch crows peck out your eyes!”
“You should have died before we got to you!”
The men screamed over the edge of their galleon, raising fists, in the little Allebany they seemed to know. The rest screamed in their native tongue, a harsh, horrible noise that turned Levanine’s stomach. The Captain’s hand gripped her arm and she felt her veins throb with the intensity of her heartbeat.
One of the men hoisted up a flaming torch, as if to toss it into the sloop below, in hopes to burn them all to death. Levanine knew they could stomp it out in time, but the idea still made her shudder.
A distant bark made the men turn, and slowly began to wander away from the edge of the ship, their cries going quiet. The galleon continued to slip past, and as the shadow of the Ronartion ship fell off of the sloop, Levanine let out a breath that she had not realized she was holding, and heard the Captain do the same.
Captain Guy straightened and Levanine followed, sliding her dagger back into her belt. It seemed funny they would get away that easily, especially with how much the men seemed to want to kill them, despite the guise that they were already dying.
The Captain stood up and opened his mouth to command the men when suddenly a ‘BOOM’ shook the ship. Levanine was thrown off her feet, her knees and palms hitting hard on the wood of the deck.
“Wha…?” She groaned, sitting up as the men, no longer hiding, stood and readied their weapons. The Captain had been knocked off of his feet as well, and he took a second longer than she did to stand, wincing in pain.
Another ‘boom’ exploded and a great grey something zoomed overtop of the boat, splashing into the water close to them and rocking the ship again. Levanine realized that the thing was a cannonball.
The Ronartion galleon was shooting at them!
The beast of a ship began to turn as cannonballs rained down, the ship pouring smoke as if the heads of dragons were kept within its dark walls, just as their glaring flag suggested. Silva was running to the helm and Guy grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her close.
“Don’t go far from me.” He hissed. His blue orbs were molten fury, and Levanine felt a little afraid of him. He looked thirsty for blood in a way she hadn’t experienced before. “Silva! Turn the ship and slide it up against theirs, but don’t get hit, and try not to crash it like before!”
Silva looked insulted, terrified, and unsure in all the same moment, but he bit his lip and nodded, saluting. “Aye Captain!”
“Don’t let them onto our sloop, men!” The Captain shouted. “Kill them all if you have to!” The words turned Levanine’s stomach cold. She didn’t want to kill anyone! The dagger in her hand shook. “We’ll capture their galleon and show the whole of Kethaltar they do not mess with Captain Guy and his crew!”
The men cheered in a ruckus, raising weapons despite the knowledge that they were out unnumbered nearly four to one. The sloop rocked as it scraped against the side of the ship, forcing the galleon to stop shooting cannons in fear it would hurt itself.
“Pirates!” The Ronartion men screamed, raising their own weapons. They were waiting for orders, but just barely, like a hunting dog waiting to be let free to snap at the throat of its prey.
An order was barked and suddenly a board fell from the side of the ship and onto the sloop and men began pouring down, others launching themselves off of the side of the galleon and onto their ship. The Captain’s men screamed and rushed at the intruders.
The sound of metal hitting metal filled the air and everything became a flurry of movement. Men shouted and blood sprayed in a haze of red and silver. Her eyes would only focus on bits of movement: Awla stabbing a man through, Braxton slamming two black-haired heads together with a ‘crack!’, Silva exchanging swords with a man who towered over him.
Levanine felt sick suddenly, but turned on her heel and ran up the ramp onto the galleon as the Captain’s cape disappeared over the side. Somehow no one seemed to notice her, strangling and cutting and hacking one another.
Levanine leapt off of the side of the galleon and onto the great ship, looking around for the Captain. He had disappeared!
A man ran at her with a scream, raising a curved sword. She yelped and dove out of the way, hitting the deck hard. She laid on the ground for a moment as boots stomped around her, threatening to step on her and crush her.
Levanine leapt to her feet and pulled her dagger out of her belt, waiting for another man to attack her. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a man poised to strike a familiar figure from behind.
“CAPTAIN!” Levanine screamed, throwing herself forward. The Captain turned at the last moment, sidestepping the silver blade as her feet landed. Something hot and sticky suddenly poured over her hand and arm. Levanine opened her eyes to see dark red dripping down over her skin.
She jerked back in surprise, dislodging her soaked dagger from the body of the dead man. The world spun. The Captain gave her the smile of a hunter. “Good job!” He leapt back into the fray, his silver blade whirling with unmatched skill, his cape fluttering.
Levanine stared at the blood dripping off of her elbow, suddenly feeling very cold and very numb. She couldn’t even convince herself she was Captain Guy. She was not Rakifi or Quinn.
She was Levanine.
And she had killed a man.
She did not get the chance to be horrified by the work of her hands, because hands suddenly grabbed her roughly from behind. She screamed and kicked and she was hoisted off of the deck, lifting her bloodied dagger to stab behind her, but one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and the other gripped her wrist. She yowled in pain as the man twisted her hand, dropping her weapon.
The man threw her to the ground, causing her to slide backwards through blood and knocking her head on the deck. Levanine gasped with pain, but forced herself to her feet. The thing that happened with Bartender would not happen again.
The man scowled down at her, then smiled. “Ah!” He shouted. “The talkisins have pullick on their ship!”
Levanine knew both of his forgien words, and they made her equally sick and angry. The man rocked forward on his heels, the hand holding the sword not tensing as it should, and Levanine knew what he was going to do.