The Maiden in the Mirror

by Scott Hamerton

  There was no lock on the door, so she braced the handle with a chair, changed her clothes, and slipped into bed. It was comfortable enough, but sometimes the straw poked through and made her itch. The smell reminded her of horses.

  As the night drew on, the moon rose silently through the tiny porthole, leaving a pleasant blue-white glow across the entire room. It wasn't like staying in Lintumen's cabin at all. His was always dark, except for the candlelight.

  A knock at the door startled Minerva awake. She slipped out of bed quickly and grabbed an unlit lamp from its wall mount.

  "Who is it?"

  "Olbus."

  Minerva pulled the chair away and backed against the far wall defensively. Olbus opened the door slowly, appraising her stance and weaponry. Under one arm, he carried a large flat object draped in cloth. He quietly closed the door behind him and leaned the object against the nearest bunk bed. In his other hand, he held a large knife in a sheath.

  Thoughts of the attack by the swabbies filled Minerva's mind and her heart raced. Spit was taller and stronger, sure, but it wasn't a completely unfair fight in an open space. Olbus was so big he could probably throw her around the room by her ankles.

  With painstaking and soundless precision, Olbus took the chair that had been blocking the door and sat down on it backwards, barring her exit. Then he placed the dagger on the floor beside him. "You're a long way from home," he said. "We aren't going back." He spoke with purpose and gravitas.

  Minerva only nodded. She contemplated how difficult it would be to climb out the porthole and up onto the deck, or if she could survive a fall from this height.

  "What are you going to do?" he asked.

  What, now, she wondered, looking at her meager weapon. It would have been useless against him. "I don't know."

  "What do you think of the men on this ship, Minerva?"

  "I'm not sure. I barely know them, it seems."

  "Do you believe that they are strong?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you think they are good men?"

  "Some of them," she replied after a moment, comparing Spit to Lockjaw.

  "Are they brave?"

  "Mostly."

  "And dangerous?"

  Minerva backed away even further, pressing into the wood. Her mind was frantic as to what he was planning. Would calling for help do any good? Would Luff and Leech come to save her?

  "Some of the men on this ship are some of these things. However, all of them are dangerous, because they all have nothing to lose. They have no close families. No homes. No past worth remembering. That is why they are strong, and that is why they are brave. They fear pain, as all sane men do, but they do not fear death. For many, death is a blessing."

  "Why are you telling me this?" she stammered. Her mouth had gone dry with anxiety.

  "I'm telling you because the Skyraker will be arriving in Riggersport in several days. I believe that the captain is going to leave you there. Riggersport is not a place where anyone of any age should spend a great deal of time. Especially not a young girl. It is a pirate port ruled top to bottom by the darkest of our lot. However, the crew chooses their captain and the captain chooses the boatswain. It is the boatswain's duty to decide who is a member of the crew and who is not. Do you see?"

  Minerva shook her head.

  "If you become a member of the crew, then it will be my decision to leave you behind or not. You could stay aboard the Skyraker for as long as I am here, and perhaps long enough for you find a way home. We travel to many places that might provide you with that opportunity."

  "Why is that a difficult choice?"

  Olbus reached down to pick up the knife and pulled it from its sheath. It was plain and lightly rusted. It didn't look like a good weapon for a fight. He turned it over in his hands, seemingly lost in thought.

  "Because you need to be initiated as a pirate," he said. "You will be marked as one of us, and there is no going back from that."

  For a while, they sat in silence, and she thought about the people that she had met over the past few days. The few friends and the many enemies. Mostly, though, she thought about home. About her mother's cooking and her father's kind words, and the warmth of their embrace.

  "I don't want to be alone," she said.

  Olbus took a heavy breath before continuing. "Take your shirt off," he ordered.

  Minerva stood dumbfounded and unmoving. That's a very bad idea, her mind insisted. She clenched her fists and didn't budge.

  "You need to take your shirt off," Olbus said, and his expression seemed to soften almost imperceptibly, possibly as a trick of the moonlight.

  "Don't look," she said, avoiding his gaze.

  Olbus did as she asked, and she put her shirt on the table behind her, covering herself with her hands. When she let him know that she was ready, he unbound the large parcel and revealed a full-length mirror, aiming it to face her. It was a beautiful construction with a golden frame and its own stand of elegant wooden feet.

  "What do you see in the mirror, Minerva?"

  Minerva's reflection stood in stark contrast to the frame around it. She saw herself standing half-naked in a dark room lit only by the light of the moon. Her skin was messy, streaks of soot dirtied the canvas of her face, and her hair stood in wispy unkempt knots around her head. A long, wicked scar crawled across her arm, and it hurt when she looked at it. Her foot and leg carried wicked bruises from where she had fallen off the ship.

  Her image barely filled half the height of the mirror, and she looked small and insignificant. The stress of her predicament wore apparent in the lines on her forehead, in the way she clenched her fists, and the way she breathed in rapid gusts.

  In the mirror, Minerva saw a girl who didn't know where she was, where she was going, or how she was going to get home.

  It was warm out, but she was shivering.

  "I see a scared little girl."

  Hearing and seeing her own honesty pushed so profoundly into the light terrified Minerva. Her hands moved to cover her mouth and she began to cry.

  As she wept, Olbus knelt beside her and wrapped the cloth cover around her. "This is what we fear," he said, pointing into the mirror.

  Minerva didn't know what to say or do, so she stood there crying, fearful of her own image. Staring at herself through the glass and through her tears, she wanted so badly just to go home, and to ask her other self if it knew the way. Of course it did not, and so the three of them stood there silently, Olbus, her, and the maiden in the mirror.

  Olbus held the rusted dagger out to Minerva. He breathed deeply, in an empowering way, and placed a hand on her shoulder as she took it from him. "You must bare your flesh to the mercy of your blade."

  Minerva removed the blanket slowly, looking only into his eyes.

  "Look into the mirror," he said softly. "Look into your own eyes, your own heart, and your own self. Repeat your oath after me."

  With a stiff nod, Minerva obeyed, breathing hard.

  "I am strong!" Olbus bellowed in the darkness, loud enough to rattle the fixtures, and Minerva gasped.

  Her own verse felt weak and meager.

  "I am brave!"

  Minerva summoned her courage and spoke up.

  "I fear nothing!"

  She felt a surge of strength and her muscles tightened.

  "I am unclaimed!"

  Her own words echoed back from the mouth of her reflection.

  "I hereby mark myself as my own!"

  Olbus paused and made a crossed motion across his chest with his fingers, indicating the path she was to carve with the dagger.

  "Across my heart, to die with a smile."

  Minerva repeated the final words with conviction. She felt the cold blade of the dagger push against her chest, and heard the smooth whisper of a fresh wound that only the deepest of cuts can usher. Then she raised it again, completing the mark from the other side. With her oath complete, she looked over at her other self, bloody and wounded. Her vision went hazy and her k
nees wobbled. Olbus caught her in his arms and wrapped the loose blanket around her.

  "Now what?" she asked feebly, dropping the knife.

  A visage of terror clouded over Olbus when he looked down at the mark she had carved into her own flesh.

  "Now we take you to the surgeon," he said.

  Chapter 14

  Twice Lucky

  "What happened, Sparks?"

  "Their gunner, Captain. Much better than we anticipated. Put a shot through the hold, straight as a rifle. With the fires and the oil so close together, she went up from there."

  Captain Black sat at a long table in a cabin made to entertain kings. Wealth and opulence hung from every corner, lit by the many-hued shades of a stained glass window. The sovereign of the land sat on a throne of dark oak, wearing a sad look on his mighty face. Squints waited beside him, like a jester in a court. A third man stood on a grand carpet of black and red with his arm in a sling.

  "Aye, we've seen that," Black agreed. "He slowed the Phoenix, as well. I assumed that he had gotten lucky. What of Cloudscorch, then?" Captain Black asked.

  "Ashes, sir," said the man.

  Captain Black sighed, and then moved forward and put his hand on his visitor's shoulder. The third man bore many fresh burns across his face and body, and most of his hair was missing. The unwelcome contact forced him to lean to one side in obvious pain.

  "Squints! Get the twin ships out to sky. If we can't shoot her down or burn her down, we'll tie her down."

  "Aye, Captain," Squints said with a salute, before scurrying out of the room.

  "I want revenge, Black."

  Captain Black looked over at the man and frowned. "We all do, Sparks. We all do. Get some rest, my friend."

  Chapter 15

  Markedly Marked

  Minerva awoke on her back in Lintumen's room.

  Still haven't slept in your own cabin, her mind reminded her quietly.

  When she moved to sit up, her chest hurt tremendously.

  "Feeling sane, or should I keep you locked in here for your own safety?" Lintumen asked in a mocking tone.

  Minerva rolled over to the side of the bed and moved to get out, but stopped when she realized that she wasn't wearing a shirt. She pulled the bed sheet up around her neck and shot a glare at Lintumen, who was already looking away. After inspecting the handiwork on her chest, she frowned with concern. A freshly stitched and bandaged pair of wounds crossed straight across her heart, from clavicle to gut. She hadn't meant to make it quite that big.

  Lintumen brought a change of clothes over to her, and then turned around politely while she dressed.

  "I took an oath."

  "You did."

  "What do I do now?"

  "I'm not sure. Are you still a swabbie?"

  "Luff and Leech are teaching me to be a rigger."

  "Good. You should do quite well at that. Plenty of textiles."

  The wizened old man sat back down behind his table and began examining something under his tiny jeweler's lens, occasionally writing notes.

  "You're free to go, if you feel well enough," he said with a smile, as she sat on the bed, feeling despondent. "I'll call for someone to let you out."

  When called, Olbus opened Lintumen's door to allow Minerva to leave. If he felt anything at all about the night before, he wasn't showing it.

  "Lunch soon. You can go early."

  Minerva thanked him, and then left for the galley.

  Jim was there. Big Jim. Big Mean Jim. He was prepping for the meal when he saw her. "Well, look at this, our newest crew come for grub. Ye think yer special? Think ye can come an' go when ye want, now that yer marked?"

  Minerva's head fell to her chest. She lacked both the strength and the will to fight him. When she said nothing, he slopped some soup into a bowl and thrust it out at her.

  "Ye want yer cutlery, princess?"

  Without responding, Minerva walked away to sit down at a table, and did her best to drink her lunch without leaning back too far; it made her chest hurt. She was halfway through her ordeal-by-soup when the other sailors began pouring into the room, jostling and shoving their way through the lineup.

  "Minnie!" Luff and Leech landed on the bench beside her, making her wince in pain. "You took – the oath!"

  Minerva did her best to smile at them, but really only nodded. They both hugged her in response, sending shooting pain through her whole body. When she groaned, they jumped back with concern.

  "Sorry. You okay?"

  "Yeah. Just needed a few stitches. Lintumen fixed me up."

  "Lintumen?" Luff and Leech echoed, looking at each other in shock. "Stitches? What did you do? Use a sword? Can we see it?"

  "No!"

  "Why not? Olbus didn't – invite us!"

  The twins oozed eagerness.

  "Do I have to?"

  "No, but it is tradition. No shame among pirates – as they say."

  Minerva really didn't want to disappoint the few people that had shown her any real kindness since her arrival, so she pulled out the neck of her shirt and let them look down.

  Luff and Leech reeled back, practically falling out of their seats. "You did that? To yourself? Are you insane?"

  "What? You did it, didn't you?" she cried defensively.

  The twins exchanged a sly glance as one of them pulled down their shirt to reveal a small mark about twice the size of a coin across his heart. It was a tiny fraction of the size of hers.

  Minerva groaned and dropped her head to the table. The scar would be massive.

  "You have to – show the crew."

  She groaned again in disapproval as they hoisted her onto the table against her will.

  "Fellows! Crew! Pirates!" the twins yelled above the din, silencing the crowd. "Our newest crew. Minnie. Is here!" Some of the crowd cheered jubilantly. "She has taken the oath! And drawn the mark! Although you probably – weren't invited! Vowed in secret. But not in silence. Let her show you!"

  "No!" Minerva shouted, gripping the bottom of her shirt to prevent them from lifting it.

  Luff and Leech huddled inward, stooping low around her. "What? Why not? Your mark is huge! They have to see it!"

  "I can't."

  "You can!"

  "No, I can't!"

  "Why not?"

  "Because I'm a girl!"

  All the room stood in expectant silence, staring at the three sailors standing on the table.

  The twins shrugged, somewhat sheepishly. "You kind of look – like a boy."

  "It's the principle of the thing!" she hissed, shooting evil eyes at the twins, and beginning to wonder just how much they really cared about her.

  Luff and Leech locked eyes and thought hard. "Put your hands up under your shirt – and cover yourself first. Then we'll lift your shirt – to show the others. You'll keep your modesty – and they'll love your mark."

  No shame among pirates, she thought. Part of her also knew that to disappoint the crew would be a poor decision when it came to winning friends. With those thoughts in mind, she put her hands up under her shirt and covered her chest. "Okay," she said, looking out across the crowd, but not directly at anyone.

  Luff and Leech grinned wickedly, and then began to roll up her hem, like the curtain of a grand play. As the cloth rose higher, the eyes of the crew grew wider. They stood suitably awestruck as a great wonder revealed itself to them. When the shirt was finally at Minerva's neck, a stunned silence deafened the room.

  Someone's food fell to the floor as its owner failed to grip his plate.

  "Merciful heavens," said a man close to Minerva, and then he started to laugh, and a few others joined in. Then they cheered and howled, and she watched as some of them started to chant her name. "Min-nie! Min-nie! Min-nie!" they cried.

  Maybe it wasn't such a bad nickname, she thought, when chanted by a crowd. She spotted Spit in the group, hunched over and consumed with fury. He wasn't cheering, and he wasn't the only one. Plenty of other sailors gave disapproving looks to their
compatriots and segregated themselves from her supporters.

  Suddenly, something small and hard landed at Minerva's feet on the table. It was a wooden chip the shape of a coin, but depicted a full flagon. Then another landed, and another. Sailors from around the galley tossed them to her as she blushed and quickly pulled her shirt down.

  Minerva tried to sit down and fade into obscurity, but raucous sailors encircled her on all sides. They clapped her on the back, cheered her name, and placed many mysterious coins in front of her. When the action finally subsided, two clear factions split the galley: supporters and haters. The haters sat far away, wishing ill omens upon Minerva and her allies.

  "What are these coins that people threw at me?" she asked Luff and Leech.

  "Ale tokens."

  "For where?"

  "For here. Keeping money – is the purser's duty. We get the tokens – for ale."

  Lintumen's the purser, Minerva thought, as her mind connected two puzzle pieces together. "Why did they give them to me?"

  "It's tradition to buy a drink – for any sailor with a bigger mark."

  "Oh," she said, looking down at the coins she had just received. It was a very large pile.

  That night was the first night aboard the Skyraker that Minerva spent entirely in her own bed in her own cabin.

  Chapter 16

  Crow's Nest

  After several days in the sails, Minerva started to feel comfortable enough to hang on with only one hand, and one time she caught herself jumping from one beam to another without completely terrifying herself. When the weather was dry, the riggers had little to do, and often passed the time on the spars with conversation.

  "What's that box up at the top there?" she asked a fellow rigger, pointing at the peak of the mainmast.

  "That's Nezzen, our lookout. That's his crow's nest."

  Minerva inspected the bottom of the crow's nest. Several old and weathered ropes hung down from it, lashing various objects together to form walls. She could see a net full of bags and satchels on the far side. Various pieces of wood or other trinkets, hammered onto its edges, formed a belt of trophies. A roof of threadbare cloth held back the elements, probably poorly.