Storm Raven

by K Hanson

  The constant grind of working the mines and the fear of punishment for even the slightest perceived failure clearly weighed on everyone in the crew. Their shoulders sagged, and they winced at every yell from the guards. It would be a long twenty years of hard labor. Brynja had never known anyone to survive more than a few years. Twenty was practically a death sentence, except the Empire would at least get something out of it.

  Resentment filled her as she worked as a slave in the same mines her people from Stalsta had once owned. When she had been just a child, the Empire had invaded and claimed the lucrative mines, and the riches they contained, for themselves. Her father, a blacksmith, had destroyed his forge rather than let it fall into the hands of the Empire. For this crime, he had been killed in front of her. Her mother had attacked the guards after that, and they sent her to join her father in the afterlife.

  The Imperial troops had swept Brynja up and carried her off to their ship, though she never knew what their destination was. Before they could get wherever they were going, Captain Nogre had swept in with the Storm Raven to attack the Imperial vessel. In the assault, Nogre had found Brynja hiding behind some crates. He had taken her in as his own daughter.

  Once Nogre had found Nereyda floating in that barrel, she felt like she had taken second place in his mind. He still treated Brynja with kindness and taught her everything he could.

  Nereyda had always been so quick to learn anything about being a pirate. Whether it was sailing, navigating, or fighting, she always seemed to pick up on it quicker than anyone else. And the way Nereyda could read the wind and the waves still struck Brynja as extraordinary.

  Nereyda had always been like a sister to her, but Brynja also felt like the forgotten sibling. Despite having been on the ship several years longer and being older than Nereyda, it had been Nereyda that had been elected captain after Nogre died, rather than Brynja. Of course, she felt grateful to have gotten the position of first mate. And she couldn’t really blame Nereyda for being successful. Still, being second best had dragged on her for a long time.

  As Brynja looked around the area, the supervisor shouted, “Focus on your work. Stop looking around.”

  She shot the man a glare but concentrated once again on mining.

  Even though Nereyda had said she’d come for them, Brynja had no idea how they could break out of this place or how someone could mount a rescue for them. When they had come to the mines, tall walls and countless guard towers, all made of stone from the quarries in the region, surrounded the complex. Soldiers patrolled everywhere, both on the walls and the ground.

  And that was just the outside. The mines themselves were a maze of twisting corridors, dark intersections, and pitfalls. One person couldn’t attack or infiltrate the place without some serious resources and help.

  That’s if Nereyda managed to survive the cruise through the Shattered Sea. Brynja envied her for being out on the open sea, but she also knew that the sea in that part of the world was incredibly dangerous. Plus, she was likely stuffed onto a ship with a bunch of unfriendly marines and other slaves. Not the same as serving with a crew that felt like a family.

  A clatter down the corridor snapped Brynja from her musings. She turned to her left to see Kyla, one of her crew, on the ground, her ax next to her. She lay limp, her breathing shallow. The poor thing had collapsed of exhaustion.

  Brynja took a step toward her to try to help.

  “No, keep working,” commanded the supervisor.

  Brynja didn’t turn away. “She needs help.”

  “We’ll take care of her. That’s our job. Keep doing yours,” he said as he jabbed a finger toward her.

  Reluctantly, Brynja returned to swinging her ax at the wall. Meanwhile, the supervisor whistled to two of the guards in the corridor. They walked over and met the supervisor next to Kyla, where she still lay helpless on the ground.

  “Get up, lazy,” the man commanded.

  Of course, Kyla didn’t respond or react.

  “I said get up. You’re falling behind.”

  He swung his foot back and struck her in the side with his boot. She seemed to wince but otherwise didn’t respond.

  “Bring her to the rack. The whip should wake her up. If not, she can rot on the ground for all I care.”

  Brynja whirled around. “What is whipping going to do? She’s passed out from overexerting herself in these sweltering mines. She needs water and rest, not a whipping.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, slave? That’s what it sounds like to me.”

  “Maybe. At least someone should know how to do it.”

  He laughed. “You’ve got more spirit than most of our slaves. I’ll tell you what, if you think you can do my job better than I can, you can have it. From now on, you are in charge of keeping your crew on task. It’s up to you to make sure they stay productive. If your team falls behind, everyone will be punished. And you will be the one dealing out the punishment. If you refuse, I will double any punishment that is given out.”

  “Really? You’re giving me control of my team?”

  “To an extent. Now, as your first test,” he said as he held out the whip, “your friend here needs to be punished for laziness. Ten lashes.”

  She didn’t take the offered weapon. “She passed out. It’s not her fault.”

  “Ten lashes from you. If you make me do it, she’ll get twenty. And I’ll probably hit harder than you will.”

  Brynja felt sick to her stomach but held out her hand to take the whip. “Fine, you have a deal. I’ll do it.”

  She hoped that at least then she could shield her team from some of the violence and punishment that the supervisor seemingly dealt out for fun.

  “Now, start,” he said.

  Brynja raised the whip and looked at Kyla’s bare back as she stood limp in the chains on the wall. Seeing her friend helpless made her hesitate.

  “I’m waiting, slave. If you waste my time, she gets even more lashes.”

  She struck out. As the whip cracked along Kyla’s back, she jolted to consciousness and cried out.

  Brynja looked at the supervisor who only smiled and nodded. With tears streaming down her face, she continued to whip Kyla’s back until the punishment had been fulfilled.

  The supervisor seemed satisfied as he walked over to take the whip. “You’re made for this kind of thing, I think. Now, you can take care of your friend. As long as it doesn’t prevent your crew from hitting their quota.”

  Brynja took Kyla from her chains and laid her down on a nearby bed to tend to her wounds and give her some water. Now wide awake from the pain of the lashings, Kyla glared at Brynja and asked, “How could you do that? Now you’re working with these monsters?”

  “No, I’m trying to protect you. As long as we hit our quotas, we won’t get punished for small stuff anymore. We can take breaks, and we don’t have to work until our bodies give up.” Brynja reached out to clean Kyla’s wounds with a wet cloth.

  Kyla pulled her body away. “You whipped me, Brynja. Get away from me.”

  “All right, I’ll get someone else to take care of you.” Stepping away from Kyla, she walked over to Jim, who was the closest of her crew members. “Can you take care of Kyla?”

  “Sure, Brynja. And try not to beat yourself up.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I understand that you’re trying to do the best you can to get us through this.”

  “Thanks, Jim. I just hope that I made the right decision.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Thunder rumbled through the air and shook the hull of the ship, stirring Nereyda from her slumber. As she opened her eyes, shadows danced and flickered on the wall as lightning flashed outside the porthole. As she climbed to her feet, bracing herself against the motion of the vessel in the waves, someone opened the door to the deck and leaned in to talk to the guard on duty. She couldn’t overhear what anything, but her guard stood up and walked over to her cell, his keys jingling in his hand.
“Apparently, the commander wants you out there with him. We’re all hands on deck as this storm rolls in.”

  When she exited to the deck of the ship, Erhan stood behind the wheel yelling orders to the crew as sheets of rain drenched everything. Nereyda began to climb the steps to the bridge but, before she reached the top, Erhan spotted her and shouted, “Pirate, I need you at the bow of the ship. Keep an eye on the sea and call out to me anything that you see.”

  Turning around, she went back down the steps and made her way toward the front of the vessel. As she glanced out over the sea, she spotted an island within swimming distance. Well, within swimming distance in calm weather. Based on where she knew they were, the island had to be the one she had marked on the map. Of course, a storm would hit just at her best opportunity to escape. As the storm raged around the ship, nobody noticed as Nereyda unlocked the irons around her ankles and kicked them off. A wave crashed against the side of the vessel, and Nereyda staggered to regain her balance as she walked across the deck.

  She found an empty barrel that should help her stay above the rolling waves as she paddled her way to shore. A gust of wind lurched the ship, and she dropped the barrel. After chasing it down when it rolled away, she resumed lugging the barrel to the starboard bow of the ship.

  When she reached the side of the ship, the pirate captain looked into the black waves beneath her. In a flash of lightning, she looked up to see the island only a few hundred yards away. A long distance to swim in this storm. Still, it would also possibly be her only shot at escaping. Once she got to shore, she’d deal with surviving and figuring out what to do next.

  The ship jerked again.

  Nereyda looked toward the stern. She could make out Commander Erhan at the helm. He was a strong leader of his men but clearly didn’t know how to handle a ship in a storm like this. If he kept going on like this, he would get his crew killed. This crew that contained many slaves, just like her. Some of them far less guilty than Nereyda.

  Another flash of lightning revealed something off the port side of the ship.

  A wall of water, rapidly approaching. A rogue wave.

  Dropping the barrel next to her, Nereyda sprinted toward the stern of the ship, managing to match her steps to the motion of the ship in the storm. When she arrived at the helm, she shoved Commander Erhan aside, knocking him to the deck. “I’m sorry, Commander, but you don’t know what you’re doing. I’ll get us out of this.”

  She took the wheel in her hands and yelled across the deck, “Hard to port!”

  Despite pausing for a moment in their confusion, the crew moved to obey the command. They adjusted the sails, and Nereyda spun the wheel hard to the left. The ship leaned as it made the turn toward the wave.

  With the bow pointed at the wall of water, she called, “Brace yourselves!”

  Erhan had stood up by this point and tried to haul Nereyda away from the wheel. “Step away from the helm, slave.”

  She turned and punched him in the face. “Do you want to survive this or not? I’ve done this before.”

  When she turned her focus back to the front, the bow of the ship reached the wave. They ascended to the peak of the wave, then crashed down on the other side. Water splashed over the sides of the vessel, and some members of the crew lost their balance, but they had survived.

  Nereyda could feel the wind rising even more. Their ship would be torn apart if it stayed out in this much longer.

  She turned the wheel to point the ship toward the island. They could take shelter in the shallows, or even beach the vessel if necessary. She angled their heading slightly starboard to avoid some rocks ahead.

  “Give me the wheel, or I’ll run you through,” said Erhan with a snarl.

  Nereyda turned and saw a sword pointing at her face. She batted it aside with her hand. “I just saved your ass. Let me do this.”

  He stepped toward her. “I won’t ask again.”

  “Then bring it,” she said as she held her ground.

  He swung at her, but Nereyda sidestepped the swipe. The blade struck the wheel and caused the ship to turn slightly to port.

  “No, the rocks!” she said as she reached back to take control of the helm.

  But it was too late. The bow of the ship struck the rocks with a crunch. Immediately, the vessel tilted port and forward as it took on water.

  In the chaos, Nereyda sprinted down the incline of the deck. She had to get off of this ship.

  Footsteps chased after her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Commander Erhan. “Really? In all of this, you come after me?”

  He didn’t answer.

  As the ship continued to list, sinking faster and faster, Nereyda found her run turning into more of a controlled fall. Another lurch of the ship took away her balance. Rather than fall, she propelled herself forward to dive into the roiling ocean. She came up in time to see Commander Erhan trip and slam his head into the railing before he tumbled over the side. His limp body bobbed up above the waves.

  Despite knowing that she would regret it, she swam over to him and turned him over, so his face wasn’t in the water. It looked like he was still breathing, just unconscious. Hooking one arm around his body, she paddled her way toward shore.

  Each swell of the sea threatened to bring them under. Her arms and legs ached as she worked against the storm to carry both herself and the dead weight of the commander through the water. She felt increasingly tempted to just let him go. After a couple hundred yards that felt like miles, the water became shallow enough that her feet could touch the soft muddy sand. Willing her legs forward, she trudged through the muck.

  When she finally reached the shore, she dragged the commander up the beach far enough that he wouldn’t get washed away with the waves crashing against the coast. She dropped him onto his back, then fell to her knees to catch her breath. Nereyda checked over the commander and saw that he was still breathing. As she looked at him, she saw a second sword belt around his waist. A familiar belt. She unclasped it and pulled it from his body to examine it further. As she thought, it was her belt and sword. At least she could reclaim one piece of her life.

  Standing, Nereyda turned away from Erhan. Hauling him from the ocean had been more than he deserved. She didn’t feel at all bad about leaving him to fend for himself when he woke up. Ducking into the trees, she made her way inland to find shelter from the storm.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gulls squawked overhead, and the sun glared from the sky as Erhan opened his eyes. His head throbbed with a splitting headache, and his throat felt parched and scratchy. His hands sank into the damp sand as he sat up.

  Looking around, he saw that he had washed up on some kind of beach. The sand was white, and a variety of trees lined the upper edge. Over the treetops, a large hill or small mountain rose in the distance, with a stone tower on top like a spire over the forest. Out in the water, a sharp peak of stone rose from the waves like a dagger. Next to it, the broken hull of a ship lay mostly submerged. Not just a ship. His ship.

  Details of the previous night came back to him. He remembered a storm that had hit the ship. That pirate wench Nereyda had tried to take the wheel and had driven the ship straight into that rock. Erhan recalled chasing her on the ship, but after that, nothing. He had no memory of how he got to shore. Looking himself over, he didn’t find any injuries on his body. He still had his sword belt but was missing the sword he had confiscated from the pirate captain. He figured that it must have slipped off in the ocean.

  As he pushed himself to his feet, his head spun and felt like it would split open. His legs and body ached as his muscles groaned. Whatever had gotten him to shore, it had taken a beating on his body. He shook it off. He had to see if anyone else from the crew had survived. He glanced around the beach and didn’t see anyone else. They must either have made it further inland or were still stranded on the ship itself.

  Erhan tried to call for anyone who could hear, but the sound caught in his dry throat, parched by salt water. �
��Hello?” he gasped. Coughing, he shuffled to a nearby stream that ran out of the woods to the ocean. He knelt and shoveled handfuls of fresh water into his mouth. His throat rejuvenated, he tried again. “Hello?” he called across the beach. “Is anyone else here?”

  He waited a moment but didn’t hear any other voices.

  The wreck wasn’t terribly far from shore, so Erhan figured he could swim to it to see if anyone else had made it. Even if he didn’t find anyone there, he could use some supplies from the ship as he figured out what to do next. He dropped his sword belt on the beach so it wouldn’t weigh him down, then dove into the surf.

  His tired arms struggled against the waves. Jumping right into the ocean like this immediately after waking up probably was not a wise move, but he didn’t feel like he had a choice. If any of his crew had survived the wreck, it was his duty to make sure that they got to shore so that they could make it through this together. Grateful for the swimming lessons from his time at the marine academy, Erhan kicked and pulled his way toward the broken ship. The waves kept trying to push him back, but slowly, little by little, he inched toward the damaged vessel.

  He reached the stern that still poked above the water and climbed over the railing. With the steep incline of the sunken ship, he had to hold onto the railing to keep his balance. Squinting through the glare of the sun on the water, he gazed around the waves for any sign of survivors. He didn’t see anyone on the dry part of the ship, which did not bode well. Around him, bodies and debris floated. He swam to some of the bodies just to check if any of them were still alive. They had all become blue in the face and bloated from the water.

  Clambering to the highest point at the very rear of the vessel, aft of the helm, he raised his voice. “Hello? It’s Commander Erhan. If anyone can hear me, come out or let me know.”