by Sara Hubbard
The captain’s eyes looked dreamy as he smiled. “That dress has always been my favorite. You look radiant, my dear.”
“Thank you.” I had an overwhelming urge blush. “Might I ask why you keep ladies’ dresses?”
The men laughed. I hadn’t meant to be funny.
“They once belonged to a woman who sought passage across the Magdaline Ocean.” The ocean we were currently crossing to get to Faemell. “I can’t bring myself to part with them. You never know when you might find use for them.” He winked at me.
“The Angry Maiden?” I said eagerly, waiting for the story.
“The Angry Maiden,” he nodded, smiling. “The ship was originally named The Gray Stone. Stone is my mother’s family name and gray is the word the crew use to describe my character. Nothing is ever black-and-white with me, miss.” Another wink. He was a flirt, and it was infectious. I couldn’t help but return it.
“The name ‘Angry Maiden’ came much later.” Dego leaned forward onto his exquisitely detailed desk. Carved lines and braids of dark rope ran the lengths of the legs and its middle.
“Many years ago, a fiery-haired maiden bartered passage on my ship. Women have never been well received on ships and so I offered her the very cabin that I offered you. She was beautiful. Sweet.
Charismatic. The men were enraptured by her. It wasn’t long before I started to see the change in the men.
There was lots of bickering and, eventually, fighting. The chaos that ensued on this ship was colossal. All of the men, every single one, professed to love her and wanted her for themselves. I was confident the woman was a witch. She seemed to incite and revel in the upheaval. I was immune to her charms, perhaps a result of my being Daentarry. We are not as easily swayed as humans are.”
“So you’re Daentarry. But your hair? I thought you all wore your hair the same.”
“I will get to that,” he assured me. “The witch tried very hard to entice me, but I was furious with what she had done to my crew. I confronted her. Daentarry aren’t afraid of anything, least of all a human woman. No offense.”
I shrugged.
“She continued to play her game, but I wasn’t buying it and she became enraged by my refusal to love her. I decided that I needed her off my ship—fast—so in the middle of the night I crept into her room and stole her from her bed. She struggled, of course, but with her arms bound and her mouth gagged she had no means to work her magic. I stuffed her into a potato sack with some cannonballs and threw her over the side.”
I covered my mouth, attempting to hide my horror. There had to have been a kinder way.
“The sea had been calm, not a cloud in the sky for the eight days prior to her being tossed, but afterward the sky closed over with dark clouds, and the waves built up within minutes. With the woman off the ship the men quickly regained their senses and we struggled for three days to return to shore. The ship took an incredible pounding. I was sure the ocean would swallow us whole, but eventually she calmed and we were able to return to port. Once we did, the entire crew swore off women. You are the first woman on our ship since, but I think it’s time we moved on.”
“And the hair?” I prompted him.
“Impatient, isn’t she?” Dego said to Nole, who nodded. Traitor.
“Daentarry tradition dictates that we only remove the hair on our heads when we marry a woman.
The woman we choose usually cuts it off and keeps it.
That’s right. Remmie had told me about that. I smiled, imaging Remmie without his long braids.
“I cut mine when we reached the shore as a symbol that I will never allow a woman to have power over me like the witch had over my crew.” He ran his hand across his stubbly scalp, deep in thought.
“Wow. That is quite the story. I wonder who she was. What was her name?”
The smile faded from his lips. “Gregaria Stentson. But I would kindly ask you not to repeat it. Most of the original crew remains and they would not care to hear it.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
Captain Dego took us above deck after dinner of stew with beef and potatoes. I hadn’t seen Remmie at all since Dego had shown me my room, and I was more than a little curious where he had gotten off to, but the upper decks were a welcome distraction.
Dego walked us around the ship’s deck and explained the use of every piece of equipment and tool that came into view. The unfamiliar nautical terms went in one ear and out the other. It was like he was using another language. One that I hadn’t the time, or patience, to learn.
Just before dusk, his first mate called him away. I remained up top with Nole to lean against the side and stare at the horizon. The cool salt water splashed tiny droplets up onto my face and moistened my skin. Gulls soared overhead and cawed in discussion with one another. In the distance, I saw an enormous animal break the surface of the water and blow water straight up into the sky. I turned to Nole, mouth open wide in wonder.
“A frosted whale.” Pointing, he said, “It gets its name from the white patch on its back. It prevents it from blending in with the ocean, so they are commonly seen at sea.”
I smiled, amazed. “A frosted whale.”
“You’ve never seen one?”
“I had never seen a lot of things until I crossed paths with you,” I said with a smile.
“Well, at least something good has come of our meeting.”
I played with the ends of my hair and turned my gaze from his eyes to the sea. “It’s been an adventure, that’s for sure.”
He sighed, “I am really sorry about…back at the inn. I should have been paying closer attention.”
I wished he had too, but he looked so remorseful that I felt the need to lighten his burden. He ran hot and cold to me most of the time, but I could see deep down he was essentially good. He wanted to do the right thing even if it meant he was conflicted while doing it.
“It’s not your fault. You and Remmie found me, that’s what counts.”
“Isame, your face was…”
“I can only imagine. I’m all better now,” I said. “Magic.”
He shook his head.
When the temperature cooled and the sun carefully tucked down behind the horizon, Nole offered me his overcoat, which I didn’t hesitate to take. I wasn’t used to seeing this side of Nole, and I wondered what caused the change of heart. It actually seemed like my fight with James had upset him.
“Have you seen Remmie and Roland?” I said coolly.
“Yes. They do not fare well at sea. They will probably spend the next few days in their racks until they get their sea legs.”
“Racks?”
“Their beds. Or I guess, in this case, their hammocks.”
“Oh, I hope they’re OK. Should I check on them?”
“If you wish. I’ll take you.” He offered his elbow and escorted me below.
With only a candle for light, I could still see the pale shade of green of Roland’s and Remmie’s faces. Roland snored loudly but became quiet momentarily after a cough and low moan. Remmie had his arm thrown across his forehead.
“I’ll leave you,” Nole said. “But I’ll be back shortly to escort you to your room.”
“Thank you.” After hearing about the redhead who’d been on board I didn’t feel safe among the crew. Perhaps they might try to throw me overboard too. I touched Nole’s arm and then hurried to Remmie’s side.
I knelt by his hammock and raised his arm to look at his face. His eyes were open and he scowled at me.
“What are you doing here?” he grumbled.
“I just wanted to make sure you were both OK. I haven’t seen either of you all day and I was worried.”
He tried to cover his face again, but I blocked him. His hammock swayed gently like a rocking cradle. I wondered if that helped or hurt him. Probably the former, but what did I know about life at sea?
“Please go,” he said quietly.
Rejected, my eyebrows knitted together as I put my hand to the gray-black
floor to push myself up.
“Isame.”
I walked toward the door.
“Isame,” he said more loudly. “I am not used to feeling weak. I…would rather…you didn’t see me like this.”
Surprised, I leaned my head against the door, smiling. I wiped it clear off my face before climbing into the hammock next to him and stroking his soft, tangled hair.
Chapter 17
THREE DAYS PASSED at sea. The men rotated between shifts on the upper decks and free time in their “mess.” What an odd name for living quarters. You’d think they could come up with something a little more clever. Nailed down tables and benches filled the small space. It was often empty during the day except for meals. Then, at night, the men would pour in and drink until they passed out. They all loved to drink, especially the leftover rum punch we’d brought with us, which didn’t last long.
I spent my time trying to make myself useful. I wanted to do my share and hoped that in doing so the crew would warm up to me. I had borrowed some men’s clothing and insisted on helping out on the upper decks. At first Nole accompanied me as the men weren’t receptive and being near them made me fearful, but soon the crew appreciated my efforts and, even though Nole scolded me for helping, he soon left me to it. By day three the crew seemed to welcome me, greeting me with smiles that I happily returned. We had another seven days at sea and I wanted them to be pleasant.
I helped in the galley—kitchen—as well. I shared some family recipes with the men, which went over like ale on Saturdays. Remmie and Roland started to perk up and were grateful for my continued presence. I brought them water and bread to help keep their strength up. In the evenings I crawled into the hammock with Remmie and fell asleep in his arms. He held me so tight it pained me when I had to leave him.
“You’re making quite an impression on my crew, miss. Be careful they don’t fall in love with you,” Dego whispered into my ear when I passed him in the flats one day.
I opened my mouth to speak, fearful he saw me as a threat, like he’d pegged the Angry Maiden.
“I’m teasing.” He laughed when he saw my worried face. “What would the odds be for something like that? Another magical woman on my ship.”
I giggled nervously. “Yes. What are the odds?” What would he do if he knew I could be just that?
He raised one of his eyebrows at me.
“Why are you with these men?” He leaned back against the wooden wall behind him and crossed his arms. His gaze seemed to squeeze the air out of my chest. He could somehow see right through me and he barely knew me.
Would it matter if I told him the truth? Better not. “We are helping each other.”
“To do what?”
I chewed at my lip, trying to think of a believable response. I didn’t want to say anything that might cause problems for my friends. But then again, he was one of them, so he would be on their side. Of course he would. They all seemed to be well acquainted with one another.
I gave him nothing but a sly smile.
“Fair enough. We all have our secrets, don’t we?”
“Yes, I daresay we do.” Was he was as curious about mine as I was about his? But if he didn’t pry about mine, I wouldn’t pry about his.
We went up top and slowly walked the decks as the men moved about, pulling on ropes and adjusting the sails. The men went about their business without being told. Dego was a very hands-off kind of guy. He never yelled at his crew or talked down to them. They seemed to genuinely like the autonomy.
Some people liked guidance and not having to think for themselves, but these men had a perfectly satisfying relationship that seemed to work well for them.
“How well do you know the men I am with?” I asked the captain.
“Apparently better than yourself or you wouldn’t bother to ask.”
“I know what I need to know,” I said.
“Then why ask me about them?”
“Never mind.” He frustrated me. Why couldn’t he just answer a simple question instead of responding with one of his own? I increased my pace slightly so I walked a few steps ahead of him. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. Some of the crewmembers stopped and took note, but after one look from Dego, they ignored us.
“Forgive me,” he offered, splaying his fingers and withdrawing his hands. His grip had been hard, though I believed he hadn’t meant to hurt me. “What is it that you would like to know?”
I rubbed my arm to soothe the sting of his grip. Why the change of heart? He seemed intent on drawing information from me instead of giving it, so why offer it now? What had I done to change his mind, other than simply walking away? “How do you know them?”
He inhaled and exhaled deeply as we resumed to walking side by side. “I have known most of them since I was a child. Nole and I share a father.”
I stopped and studied his face. There were some similarities: the crooked nose, the square face. The penetrating, judgmental blue eyes. And like Nole, I couldn’t predict or understand him.
“Our father was epically unfaithful to his mother, and my mother was not…the relationship sort,” he said slowly, as if he was searching for the right words.
“His mother hated me and my mother, and rightly so, but Nole and I have always tried to maintain a relationship. We are family, after all.”
The clouds had turned a pale shade of black and the waves smacked against the side of the ship.
“A storm is approaching. Perhaps you should head down below. I shall meet you there shortly.”
I nodded and carefully climbed down the ladder as thunder boomed in the sky and the air became icy. Nole met up with me in the flats and escorted me to my room. Roland and Remmie sat pale-faced on the antique chairs in the living space. It was good to see them up and about, but their color still hadn’t improved.
“Oh dear,” I said looking from one to the other. “What can I do?”
“Nothing, my dear. It will pass,” Roland said.
The ship swayed. I propped my hand against the wall to keep my balance. Some papers of the captain’s desk flew across the room and I collected them, neatly piling them into the drawer in his desk.
Sweat rose to the surface of my skin and nausea crept up on me quickly. I hadn’t felt sick at sea before now.
“You don’t look so good,” Nole commented.
“I don’t feel so good.”
“The sea is picking up. Perhaps we should all spend some time in our racks until the sea calms.”
After the storm cleared, my body still felt as if the ship rocked from side to side. Four days to go, or was it three? I lost count. It would have taken us ten days to journey to Optavia, but it took eleven to get to Faemell. Stopping at Optavia was starting to gain some appeal.
I helped the cooks with dinner. We were low on food and the crew tired of the same food day after day so I tried to spice things up a bit.
“Thyme,” I urged them. “You need to use thyme. Trust me.” The three cooks that the ship kept were good, but they used simple recipes and alternated between only three or four meals. We had run out of meat and now lived solely on bread and vegetables. The restricted diet made the men cranky so I kept experimenting, hoping to make the food taste a little better so they wouldn’t notice we’d run out of meat.
The cooks listened and the crew complained a little less than the day before.
“You don’t need to do those,” Carlos, a small-framed boy of seventeen told me as I began to wash the pots. He was the youngest of the three cooks by far. Orthos was pushing forty and Neille turned thirty-six the previous month.
I continued to wash the dishes.
“I’m not use to being idle. Besides”—I shrugged—“I like to help.”
I stayed in the galley long after we had cleaned up. The three men bickered like brothers though they had no blood relation. It made me think of home and the banter between me and my sister and brother. I missed them dearly and I ached to know how my father and brother were. Ha
d they made it home safely?
“Isame?” Dego peeked into the galley. His voice was steely. His face looked even colder.
“Yes?” I beamed.
“A word.”
I threw my apron onto the counter and shrugged at the cooks, who simply raised their eyebrows at me.
Dego did not wait for me. He stormed through the flats, pushing men out of his way. I practically had to run to keep up. My stomach turned in knots just thinking about what I might have done to upset him.
Getting thrown over the side of the ship attached to cannonballs was not how I wanted to die.
When I entered his chambers, my friends sat there waiting.
“Whatever is the matter?” I asked innocently, gently shutting the door behind me.
“I could ask you the same question,” Dego said angrily.
I swallowed hard. Going over everything I’d done in the last few days I could think of no reason why he could be so upset.
“I received a message by pigeon.”
We all looked at one another, bewildered. “A pigeon sent you a message?” I asked curiously. Surely I heard him incorrectly. Where I came from, messages traveled via post horse and cart.
“From the king!” He slapped the top of his desk with a resounding thwack, causing me to flinch.
The men did not react, although Remmie shifted a little in his seat and Otis picked at his teeth with a thin piece of bone. They stared at him, stone-faced.
Dego carefully stalked over to me and leaned down to stare into my eyes. I cringed, knowing he could see right through me. It would take very little for him to make me talk and spill everything to him. It was hard to lie to someone I liked. I’d felt horrible having to keep secrets from him.
“His oracle saw a change in our course and he demanded that I detain the lot of you and steer a direct course to King’s Wharf. He is naturally concerned that his special guest will not be arriving as soon as he had expected.”
I gulped. Detain us? The men stiffened and their hands seemed to lower to the hilts of their swords.
“And what do you intend on doing about this?” Nole asked through gritted teeth.