“So,” Adele drawled once she reached Remy, “you want to learn how to handle a cutlass, do you?” At Remy’s nod, Adele rolled her eyes. “Let me just tell you something, missy, I don’t think you can do this. I don’t think you can handle a blade and even if I teach you and you’re suddenly thrown into a situation where its use is required, I don’t think you’ll do a great job. In fact, I think you’d die in mere moments lest you decide to hide behind one of us to save you.”
Remy felt her frown deepen with each word Adele said so that when the red head finally stopped, Remy appeared just as cross as her mother had after Remy had accidentally spilled powder on the new gown she had bought for her daughter especially for her first introduction to Lord Huntington.
“Yes, well that is your opinion,” Remy snapped, taking a defiant step forward. “All I am asking for is a chance.”
“I’m giving it to you,” Adele said, rolling her eyes. “But I want you to know I think that this is a great waste of time.” She paused as if deciding where she should start. “When we practice, make sure your hair is tied back, like it is now. We don’t want to be cutting off your pretty locks now would we?”
“Absolutely not,” Remy said with horror, clutching her honey brown hair that was stained blonde, thanks to her time in the sun.
Adele shook her head. Apparently the question was a rhetorical one. Even so, Remy did not like to joke about losing her hair in any capacity.
“First thing’s first,” Adele said, handing Remy the cutlass, hilt first. “I’m going to teach you of the different parts of the cutlass. Hold the blade like this.” Adele grasped the handle so the blade was horizontal across her body, the middle of the silver blade resting gently in her palm.
Remy did as Adele commanded her to do. The object felt foreign in her hand and she realized that she would lose the softness her palms had once occupied, a clear telling that she was a lady from a well-respected and wealthy family, and would probably never have to work for anything in her life. That was changing now. She was doing dishes and now learning how to defend herself in the case she was attacked. Remy did not think she could claim to be a lady now, at least in the traditional sense.
“Here, where you hold the cutlass is called the hilt. Notice how it’s basket-shaped, a heavy copper in your hands. That’s one of the ways it’s different from a sword. The blade – this part – is curved and sharpened at the edge where one expects to cut… things.” Adele’s eyes flashed upwards, at Remy. “Any questions?”
“Why use a cutlass over a rapier?”
“It’s shorter, for one. Stockier. Gets the point across if you ask me.” At Remy’s dubious look, Adele rolled her eyes once again. “It’s sharper. Slashes better. If you want to make a point, such as stay away from my life force, you’re better off with a cutlass than a rapier. The rapier is lighter, yes, and it’s also sharp, but there’s no cutting edge, you see.” Adele took her fingertip and lightly traced the curve at the tip of the sword to emphasize her point. “A rapier does not have this little gem.”
“I see.” Well, she understood but was not quite certain as to why this small difference was of grand importance.
“And now for the steps…”
“Steps?” Was Remy learning how to dance now?
Adele gave her a look. “Just like stepping in the wrong place during a dance could crush your partner’s toes or throw your balance off, stepping the wrong way while engaged in battle could mean life or death,” she explained, as though she could read Remy’s mind.
This caused Remy’s lips to press into a line. How could Adele know how important a dance was with a potential match?
“Now,” Adele said, cutting through Remy’s thoughts, “if I step here” – she crossed her right foot over her left foot before stepping out on her left – “you step…”
Remy’s first instinct was to step out on her right in order to keep the same distance between she and her opponent.
“Good,” Adele said with a surprise. “Now, if I lunge at you, like this” – she quickly pushed off on her left foot in order to thrust her right foot forward – “you…”
But Remy took her right foot and stepped back in time.
“So you are familiar with the steps?”
“It reminds me of dancing,” Remy admitted. “And I am quite familiar with dancing.”
They continued to practice merely the steps for the next half hour. Adele kept insisting the importance of the steps and she wanted to ensure that Remy’s muscle memory branded these steps into her mind so the young girl would not have to think. By the end of the half hour, Remy was confident she could outstep nearly everyone, save, perhaps, for Adele herself.
“All right,” Adele said. “Let’s take a break. Get something to drink and come back here in a quarter hour and resume. We will review the steps and then get to the actual fighting.” Adele took a step towards Remy, her brown eyes suddenly serious. “Let me tell you something, missy. You’re going to be tired. Not just tired, but exhausted. You’re going to be sore and you’re going to cry and want to give up. You’re going to think you’ll never be able to lift something even as miniscule as a feather. You’ll be building muscle and memory so that you won’t have to think about reacting – you just will. That memory, that reaction, will save your life. Which is why you have to put your all into this. Knowing the parts of a cutlass and the steps is the easy part. If you do not think you can handle this training, don’t attempt to try. I don’t like to waste my time.”
“I thought you said you were by teaching me,” Remy stated, though not as snippily as she might have.
“I’m just stating my opinion,” Adele said with a shrug of her shoulders. “What really counts is your opinion of yourself.”
Remy took a moment to consider what Adele said. One of the rare similarities between this world and her own one was that no one seemed to really take her seriously. Before, she did not take herself seriously; she never would have imagined asking to be taught how to handle a cutlass. But it was different now. She was in a different place with different people. In fact, she was a different person. And this person wanted to be able to defend herself.
“I shall see you in a quarter hour,” Remy said.
Twenty-One
Remy ached all over.
She wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and sleep, sleep, sleep until after they left Tenedor. She could barely lift a dish let alone walk around without some sort of pain shooting up throughout her many limbs at the same time.
Goodness, she hurt.
The first night, after the long practice with Adele, she silently cried herself to sleep. Everything hurt. And when she woke up the next morning, everything hurt even more.
Adele did not seem to care for she forced Remy to resume their practice, stating the importance of muscle memory and consistency. She pushed Remy hard, not seeming to care that Remy was sore and aching and could barely move, let alone hold a cutlass and ward off Adele’s attack.
The third day of practice was slightly easier in that her body had gone numb so the pain lessened. Remy knew she would feel the next day certainly – just because she did not feel the pain did not mean it was not there – and when she woke up on the fourth day, she found she was correct.
However, the more she practiced, the more she got used to handling her cutlass. Her fingers, her palms were blistered and she knew they would callous, making her hands rather rough to touch, but she did not even mind. The more she practiced, the better she got.
By the fourth day, Adele did not even need to open her mouth to correct Remy. She was nowhere near perfect and would no doubt lose any battle she somehow found herself engaged in, but she knew the steps without thinking and she had enough muscle built in order to fend off an attack from someone slightly bigger than she. Remy was getting there; Adele knew this, as did Remy, and though neither would admit it aloud for different reasons, both were proud of the prospect.
“Tomorrow we reach Tenedor,
” Adele said, her voice ragged.
The sun was slowly making its descent behind the horizon. Nick was at the helm, still sailing. He would probably be there long into the night, wanting to reach the small island as quickly as possible in order to find Captain Pan as quickly as possible.
Remy could not explain why, but she found that she loathed the captain. Not only because of what Nick told her about the man, though that was a big reason for her hatred. But it was more than that. He was obviously a wretched man with a God complex. He wanted power and respect, and instead of earning it like a gentleman would, he took it by killing those in order to reveal that power. Even more than that, but he already had some sort of power by doing the Magistrate’s bidding. He was not a member of the Guard by any means, but he was allowed to patrol and arrest and break up any fights that he saw. Was that not enough? Why would he want more power than he was capable of having? Could he not be satisfied with what he had? Was that why his stole had not yet moved on?
“Yes,” Remy felt herself say though she had not really paid attention to Adele, her thoughts too alluring to ignore.
“You will need to be on your guard. No more getting lost in your thoughts.” Adele used her hand to push tendrils of red hair stuck to her face due to sweat. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time, would we?”
Remy blinked. “Absolutely not,” she said with certainty. “And we will not. Now that I have this.”
A smile tugged at her lips and she did not prevent it from happening. It felt good to own something that was hers, and not borrowed. This cutlass was not only her own, it was a tool she could use to defend herself. When she looked back up at Adele, she saw a ghost of a smile on the red head’s lips – a smile that vanished when she noticed Remy’s stare.
“II hope saw,” Adele said after clearing her throat. “I can’t follow you around like a mother and save you every time someone wants to take your life force from you.” She paused, her lips pressed tightly together. “You fight well.” With that, she turned around, her long hair whipping behind her, before heading down the stairs to the second level of the sship.
Remy felt a swell of pride warm the insides of her stomach. Adele was proud of her. The woman did not exactly say she was, but Remy knew. And that just deepened the pride she had in herself.
Suddenly, she was looking forward to Tenedor more than she had originally anticipated.
It was just after dawn – the sun climbing back up into the sky after an apt rest – when they reached Tenedor. Nick had Edward toss the anchor over the ship and once the vessel was secure, had Calum ready the boat that would take them to the island’s rather small docks.
“Captain,” Calum said, “I gather you’ve been up all night? Perhaps before we head out onto the island, you should sleep first?” Nick was about to respond, but the physician jumped in before the captain could, adding, “You’ll be sharper this evening. Information only leaks in the dark anyways.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Doctor, but I’m fine,” Nick said trying to stifle a yawn.
“Sir,” Edward said. “You may not be exhausted but we all are. What happens if you do happen to find Captain Pan and can barely keep yourself awake because you – and your crew – has been up all night in order to get here as fast as possible? You’re dead, that’s what. And this will all be for naught.”
Nick had a dry look on his face. Instead of arguing with his quartermaster, however, he said, “Fine. But only a few hours of shuteye. I want to be in the Albatross before darkness. Anyone not up will get left behind. Does everyone understand?”
The crew nodded and dispersed, excited at the prospect of getting some sleep before starting what felt like a new but thoroughly dangerous adventure.
Remy felt her hands shake as she slipped the newest accessory into its scabbard which hung around her waist. She was certain that if she had a mirror in her room she would not see the girl that used to be so familiar to her just a few weeks before. There would a stranger reflected in the glass, resembling a female pirate whose eyes have gotten harder at being threatened with death and seeing it for herself. Her clothes would be atrocious – dingy articles of clothing she was not sure where they had been before she acquired them – and she most certainly would never have worn them before. Her hair was be knotted, lighter in color but greasy, needing a good wash if it was ever supposed to reclaim that shine it had previously been known for. And that stranger was so unclean, sweat and dirt and dust and tears all meshed together on various parts of her body, with the scent of the sea stained into her hair not aiding in masking the stench that surrounded her due to her lack of hygienic resources. Hands that used to be so soft were now blistered, as were the soles of her feet. Light freckles were beginning to form on the tips of her cheeks and her lips were chapped, bits of dried blood only emphasizing this.
Remy knew she looked like a wreck, looked even worse than her lowest servant back home. She would not turn heads as she once had and no gentleman, let alone the Lord she had previously been engaged to, would consider giving her a second glance let alone wedding her.
And yet, Remy also knew that this stranger was someone she admired greatly, had been through and seen more in the last few weeks than the familiar girl ever did in her entire life. This stranger knew more, had been through more, and had learned survival skills the familiar girl could not even fathom. And, interestingly enough, this stranger had more friends than the other girl, making Remy both happy and sad at the same time.
For so long, she had been a fool. And though she longed for a bath and silk dresses, she knew somewhere deep down inside of her that she was becoming the person she was supposed to be. She was nowhere near that new stranger just yet, but she also knew she would get there somehow, no matter what it took.
“Oy!” a familiar voice called before pounding on the door. “Let’s go, darling. You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”
Remy spun around on the now-accustomed boots and grabbed at the door.
“Of course not,” Remy told Nick after slipping out of her room.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Nick said, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips. He threw his arm around Remy’s shoulder – an act that he had never indulged in and something that Remy found to be not unpleasant – and tilted his head closer to hers. “Now, darling, when I say stay close” –
“Yes, I will stay close,” Remy said, refraining from rolling her eyes. She ignored the new warmth that began to swarm through her body that seemed to react merely by Nick’s touch. “Though, even if I were not to, I could protect myself.”
“Don’t go gallivanting off looking for a fight now that you know how to defend yourself,” Nick said, releasing his hold on Remy only because the narrow staircase did not allow the pair to walk side by side.
“What kind of girl do you take me for?” Remy asked, throwing a look over her shoulder as she ascended the staircase, Nick right behind her.
“I thought I knew, but now I’m not so sure,” Nick said.
For whatever reason, this response was exactly what she needed to hear. She smiled as she reached the deck and proceeded to head over to where the rest of the crew was waiting, her cutlass gently bumping into the side of her right thigh as she walked, as though assuring Remy it was there if she needed it.
Her smile disappeared once she realized she would be expected to climb over the ship’s banister and then down the ladder on the side. She absolutely detested this part. She did not mind being on a ship, she did not mind being on land. She did not even mind climbing back up to reach the ship. But she absolutely detested climbing down, the possibility of falling so much more great.
“If you do fall,” she murmured to herself so that only she could hear as she watched Adele start the trek downwards, “you will fall into water. You will not die.”
Even so, Remy took about as long as she normally did. The comfort of having a cutlass on her person did nothing to alleviate her fear becau
se it could not save her. She hesitated before every move, her heartbeat deafening, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering. It was only when her foot hit the unstable boot did she relax her body.
“Took you long enough,” Adele quipped.
Remy said nothing. She did not care about what Adele thought of her. All that she cared about was the fact that she had made it safely, and as such, felt herself sink into a sitting position. Her legs and her fingers were both still shaking, but for the time being, she was safe.
The boat arrived to the dock just as the sun began to trail a flurry of colors behind it as it started to set. Edward tied the boat up while Nick paid the dock master and then they were off to the Albatross. This time, however, Remy made sure that she paid attention to the direction Nick was taking, and kept a sharp eye for any surrounding indicators that would help her pinpoint where she was. Now that she kept a keen eye on her surroundings, she found that the Albatross actually had a sculpture of a wooden albatross on the roof with its thrust out, as though welcoming potential customers to the tavern. And just in case Remy missed the big bird, the tavern was located just adjacent to a blacksmith’s shop and across the road from a boutique that actually had clothing Remy might consider wearing.
Nick held the door to the tavern open for his crew and followed them inside. With Edward leading the way, they reached their usual table without any incident though Remy was certainly noticed by many of the patrons currently occupying the Albatross. Remy made sure to stay close to Nick despite her cutlass, still patting her thigh whenever she walked. Knowing he was with her made her feel safer than she normally would have with just the weapon.
And then it occurred to Remy why these people who wanted nothing more than to take her to this mysterious woman who claimed she could transfer life stayed away. Perhaps it was Nick’s presence with her that stopped them from acting out. He was a pirate after all, a notorious one at that if both Governor Comrie and Commodore Davenport wanted him locked and hanged. And he was the Transporter, in charge of leading souls to their final resting place. She could understand how intimidating he could be, actually.
The Neverland Trilogy Box Set Page 20