by Rebecca Rode
My father fell to the deck with a strangled gasp.
I yelped, but Aden was there, holding me back. If only I hadn’t hidden my axes away. The thought nearly made me bolt for the cabin to retrieve them. Aden sensed my thoughts and gripped my arm more firmly. Fighting wouldn’t solve anything, not with those muskets pointed at us.
“Time to know where you stand,” Kemp called out. “If you care for yer lives, you’ll come stand with me. Those who remain portside will be imprisoned with our fallen captain.”
The Ellegrans moved first. The Hughens followed more slowly, most staring at Aden in disgust. Nobody seemed to recognize him as a prince, which wasn’t surprising, considering their station. Barrie was one of the last to go. He shot a glare at me like I’d betrayed him. In a way, I had. If there was anyone I should have told, it was Barrie. He would have taken it better than most.
The crew stared at their feet, unwilling to meet the eyes of the captain they now betrayed. Paval, wearing a deep frown, leaned over to clap my father on the shoulder. I saw his lips move just barely, then he shuffled over with the others. My father swayed as he stood, fighting off the dizziness Kemp’s strike had bestowed.
“Master Dennis,” Kemp began. “See these men and the girl to the brig. Then meet me in my cabin. We have a change in course to discuss.”
The Majesty was a merchant ship, built to carry cargo and adapted for battle at sea. She had never carried prisoners before, so her brig was a barred crate large enough to house ten hogs or, in this case, a defeated captain and two sailors. We sat waist to waist, shoulder to shoulder, with the crate’s roof just inches above Aden’s head.
Four Messauns served as our guards. They held muskets loosely in their arms, sometimes pacing next to the ladder, often standing above us like executioners. It was almost laughable, really. We couldn’t even lie down cooped up like this, much less attack anyone.
Father, sitting to my left, still looked pale from Aden’s admission of his identity an hour before. There had been no lecture today. Not a good sign.
“I still don’t understand,” Aden whispered from my other side. “Why would Kempton hide who I am?”
“It’s simple, Your Highness,” Father growled under his breath so the guards wouldn’t hear. “The only thing Kemp fears now is mutiny. If his men knew there was a royal aboard, there would be chaos. Our countrymen would demand to have you returned to Hughen immediately, something Kemp doesn’t want. The inspectors would question his position and the ship’s ownership. The Messauns, on the other hand, would sell you off to the highest bidder and split the winnings. If Kemp wants control over the ship’s finances, he’ll have to keep your identity a secret. I just wish he hadn’t exposed Laney.”
I knew why he had. Kemp wanted me defenseless. Even now, I caught knowing grins directed at me from the guards. They’d been ordered to keep their distance, but for how long? As Lane I was safe. As Laney, I was completely exposed. If only I had my axes. When I got my hands on them again, the blades would see their first taste of blood.
“Kemp is lying and hiding things from his men,” I muttered. “Just as he accused you of doing.”
Father’s jaw tightened. “He’ll suffer for it, live in fear of losing his position or being discovered for a fraud. He’ll be tossing in my berth right now, dreaming of shadow assassins in the night. I don’t understand why he kept me alive.”
“He fears the pirates,” Aden broke in. “If they do find us, he intends to use you to bargain for the ship.” There was sorrow in his eyes. He felt responsible for our situation, but I knew the pain was greater than he let on. Not only would he fail to reach Ellegran, but he would soon become a political prisoner. He’d spend weeks locked behind bars while his father was slaughtered.
It was quiet for a long moment, the guards’ laughter the only sound. They surrounded a barrel, playing a game of cards by gaslight. They sat on the same bags Aden and I had used when he’d brushed my hair aside, as if about to—
I swallowed, wishing for water. Kemp had ordered us fed once a day like the hogs our crate usually sheltered. Our meal wouldn’t come until morning. My stomach rumbled at the thought.
“I’d like to know our new course,” my father said with a frown. “Kemp can’t return through the Needle. If he follows our original course through the bay, those four ships will spot us immediately. The only other route to the Kourning Sea is around the Messaun cliffs, and that would take an extra six weeks. We’ve only enough water for a day more, maybe two.” He sighed. “Surely Dennis will talk some sense into him. I never thought…” He trailed off.
“Shut yer mouths and go to sleep,” a guard snapped, hefting the musket off his belt. One of Kemp’s new recruits. “Or don’t. I’m happy to bash yer teeth in.” He smiled at me, his rows of crooked teeth gleaming yellow in the shadows. Right. Like that wet smile and pair of disgusting eyes would help me sleep.
Aden sat forward, leaning in my direction as if to place himself between me and the guard. I felt my father stiffen.
The man finally turned away. The three of us sagged against the bars once more. The ship listed starboard. Rough water.
There was a long silence during which the guards began to sag in their chairs, shooting us glares in the shadows. Minutes later, the snoring began. I relaxed, noting that Aden’s eyes were closed as well. But then my father shifted, and I saw that his eyes were still open. The chilled deck had to be uncomfortable for a captain used to cushioned chairs and a wooden berth.
“Will you tell me about Belza?” I whispered, so quietly I could barely hear my own voice.
He turned back to face me. I grimaced, suddenly wishing I hadn’t asked. Despair. Hopelessness. Sorrow. Sometime in the past few hours, my father had given up.
His eyes flicked to the sleeping Aden. Father’s shoulders were slumped, his voice full of defeat. “We were… boys together. Belza wasn’t always as he is now. He told everyone he met that he would command a ship someday. Even though I was older, we both knew I’d serve under him. He had this hunger, this drive that I couldn’t match. I was content with a quieter life.”
I nodded. I’d been right about Belza, then. “But you had a disagreement that ended in a duel.”
“You’ve talked to Paval. Aye, Belza saw a different future for us than I did, and he was angry that I wanted out. It killed me to injure him.” There was no triumph in his voice. Just regret. “I dressed his wound myself and packed his rowboat with enough provisions to last two weeks, but I didn’t know for sure that he’d survived until word of pirates reached me a year later.”
“He swore to kill you and take his ship back. But he never found you in all those years?”
My father snorted quietly. “Not for lack of trying. It was rough work, certainly, trying to stay ahead of him. It only got harder when I took on a new crew and married your mum. I think he fancied her.”
I shook my head, trying to consolidate this new information with my memories. Captain Belza knew both of my parents. Now that I’d had a taste of the answers I craved, it was nowhere near enough. “But where were you raised? Why haven’t I met your family? When did you first sign on with a crew?”
Father shook his head. “I’ve said enough for now. I have questions of my own. Did you know who Aden was when you smuggled him aboard?”
I hesitated. “Not till the second day. I thought him a runaway lord at first.” It was a weak excuse, and by the hurt in Father’s expression, we both knew it.
His voice was tight when he finally spoke. “He blackmailed you.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t look so surprised. I like to think you would have told me, otherwise.”
I doubted that. Aden was an excuse for my behavior, but he certainly wasn’t the cause. I’d chosen to keep my secrets just as Father had chosen to keep his. I’d intended to hurt him like he’d hurt me—and we’d lost the ship because of it. The realization only drove the guilt deeper.
“He did threaten to
tell the crew about me,” I admitted, examining Aden now. His breathing was slow and deep, his body completely still in slumber. I could have watched him for hours. As it was, I tore my eyes away, my cheeks heating. “But I don’t think he would have. His bargain was nothing more than desperation. I knew that almost from the beginning. Then I didn’t want to tell you because you’d send me away, and I… I’ll do anything to stay on the Majesty, Father. Anything.”
He searched my face. “And I would do anything to protect you. Lands grant that it doesn’t come to that.”
We fell silent for a long moment, considering where this voyage had taken us. A prince’s bargain and a pirate’s threat. Would we still be here without one or the other? Had my deal with Aden doomed the Majesty, or would it save us in the end? Would Lane Garrow die or triumph at last? I looked at my pirate father and clenched my jaw.
Garrows didn’t run. We fought—and we would protect each other.
“There’s another reason I didn’t tell you,” I finally admitted. “I was angry about Belza. That you would keep secrets from me.”
There was a heavy sigh. “I feared that would be the case. I assumed I had time, that there would be other voyages, other quiet moments to explain. That was perhaps my greatest mistake of all.”
“We do have time. I swear it.”
It was as if he hadn’t heard me. “There’s so much I should have taught you. I wanted you to learn how to conduct yourself in the world, how to be confident and safe as a captain’s boy. I neglected to teach you about surviving in the world as who you truly are. For that I’m sorry.”
“Maybe this is who I am. Maybe I want to be Lane Garrow forever.”
“Lane Garrow doesn’t exist. He’s a disguise, Laney. A lie. Don’t let them convince you that only boys are capable of big dreams.”
“I have plans, Father. Things that Laney could never accomplish. When this is over, I’m not going back to Nara.” He opened his mouth to interject, but I plunged on. “We’re going to win the ship back from Kemp, turn it around, and take Aden to Ellegran in time to save his kingdom. King Eurion will be so grateful for our help, he’ll insist that I stay aboard. Nobody will blink an eye when you make me captain of the Majesty after you retire.” I grinned. “Just think of it—your own room in a nice, quiet house, with walls instead of a hanging sheet…”
He snorted as if covering a laugh. The smile faded too soon. “If only the world were so simple.”
“You said you chose the wrong way to change the world. Maybe this is the right way.”
He stared down at me for a long moment. “When did you grow up, my little Laney?”
“When that filthy pirate threatened my father.”
I expected to see pride in his eyes. But as the shadows shifted, there was only guilt. He glanced at Aden. “There’s one thing more, but it isn’t safe to discuss here.”
I shoved away the disappointment. “Then we’ll discuss it when this is all over. No more secrets, no more lies. Aye?”
A slow, tight smile appeared. “Aye.”
I awoke to find my head resting on Aden’s shoulder.
I stiffened and pulled slowly away, hoping he hadn’t noticed. But when I turned back, I found him looking down at me with a sad smile.
“Sorry,” I muttered, grateful to see that my father was snoring at my other side. He lay pressed against the wall of our cage, curled up on the cold ground.
“It’s probably good that you sleep in your father’s cabin,” Aden said softly. “When that sarcastic tongue is at rest, you’re positively striking.”
Nobody had ever called me striking before. I felt a warmth in my chest and resented it immediately. I’d grown too comfortable with Aden. Cedrick. I couldn’t let his sweet words reach my heart. Once we took the ship back and delivered him to Ellegran, we’d be strangers once more. His princely shoulder would belong to some girl in a puffy dress with long, carefully tended hair. Her hands would be smooth and smell of soft lavender.
“You’re less a gentleman every day,” I said. “This ship has ruined you forever.”
He grinned ruefully. “Life at sea suits me far better than life in court ever did.”
“I doubt that.”
“Truly. This voyage has been incredibly refreshing. I’ve been told what to do my entire life—who to talk to, what to say. Even what to wear and how to eat. This has been the most freedom I’ve ever had.”
Freedom. Two weeks ago, that was precisely how I’d seen sea life. But something about his words stung me. I’d also been told who to talk to and what to say. And I was even more restricted in what to wear and how to eat. We were both prisoners in opposite worlds.
A piece of hair stabbed at my eye, and I swept it aside with numb fingers. If we were to survive this, I would need every ounce of strength in the next two days. I had chosen this life—fought for it, again and again. And I wouldn’t stop fighting until the noose tightened around my neck for good. Maybe not even then.
The guards had been changed in the night. Only two now. They sat with their backs to the opposite bulkhead, whispering in the dim morning light. Two was better than four. If we proved to be no threat, perhaps Kemp would make it one. Three of us against one guard—now that had possibilities.
“You’re unlike any girl I’ve ever known,” Aden said, still watching me. “I just want you to know that, in case I don’t get the chance to tell you again.”
I forced a smile. “You mean other girls don’t carry axes and climb rigging during storms? For shame.”
Aden just chuckled. “My family and my home are in danger. Yet all I can think about is this girl who wants to become a sea captain.”
Heat crept up my neck. I was glad my father slept. “Aden…”
“Don’t say it. I know I’ve made a big enough mess already. But I need you to promise me two things. If we escape this, and I leave you behind, swear that you’ll be safe here. I won’t go otherwise.”
I stared at him in wonder. He met my eyes with an openness that made my stomach flutter oddly. There was nothing but concern there. He truly meant his words. I just nodded, my throat tightening.
“Good. And the other thing… When everything is resolved and you return to Hughen, I—I’m wondering if you would consider—”
He cut off as steps sounded on the ladder. The guards leaped to their feet, trying to appear alert. It was only a scowling Barrie carrying a tray full of plates—the captain’s tray, ironically. Three forks were stacked to the side. Our morning meal. They hadn’t even allowed Paval to carry it in.
“No forks,” the guard barked as Barrie approached. He removed the forks, then handed the tray to the first guard, who inspected it carefully. Then Barrie turned and trotted back up the ladder. He didn’t even give us a second look. It stung, but I was also grateful he couldn’t see my flame-red cheeks.
“It’s clean,” the guard said to the other. He unlocked the cage to place the tray at our feet while the other stood over him with his pistol raised. As they locked us away and returned to their game once more, my father roused. Aden and I separated as much as was possible and pretended all was normal. My stomach felt weightless, almost disconnected. I’d been starving until about two minutes ago.
I knew exactly what Aden had been about to ask. Lands grant that he never voiced the words.
The plates contained only cold biscuits and boiled potatoes, and there was no coffee, but Aden dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in days. I detected a bit of pinkness to his ears. Or maybe it was only the light.
I’d just handed my father his plate when Aden groaned. “The hair thing. I like Paval, but sometimes it’s just too much.” He grimaced as he pulled a black hair from the potato mash and dropped it to the ground.
I mixed my food around until I identified another hair. He usually placed a single strand into the entire pot. One per person? That felt significant somehow.
“He’s trying to give us strength,” my father said. “Dear Paval. A knife or weapon would
have been more helpful.”
I grinned, remembering what Paval had said about the hair meaning friendship. “He’s reminding us that he’s on our side.”
Aden swallowed and reached for more. “A nice thought, but it doesn’t exactly help us.”
I sat back thoughtfully. I imagined Paval preparing our meals, knowing the guards would search the food for weapons. But hair? They wouldn’t touch that. “Aye, it does. It’s a message.”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” Aden said.
Father and I exchanged a look. For the first time, a glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.
A slow smile crept across my face. “Paval means to break us out of here. We just have to be ready.”
At six bells, the watch changed again, and our plates were taken away. One of the new guards was Digby. By the flush on his face and his deep frown, he was still upset about Dennis’s appointment.
I dozed here and there as light from above pooled at the bottom of the ladder. It wasn’t possible to get more sleep than that—the rats and insects had grown more active now that we’d taken meals down here, and occasionally one of us would yelp as something scampered across our legs.
Our prison was well placed. There were no coils of harmless line within reach, let alone blunt objects that could serve as weapons. A simple shift in position brought the guards’ sharp eyes upon us. By afternoon watch, I thought boredom would steal my wits altogether.
I drummed my fingers against my thigh, trying to work some warmth and feeling into my hands. The cage’s ceiling was too low to stand, even if the guards had allowed it, and my back ached from the poor posture. My thoughts ran on a continuous loop. Kemp’s course had to be for a nearby port. Our water storage would be dwindling by now. That meant we were headed for Messau, his homeland and the land of Aden’s enemies. If we could escape our guards while the other men were ashore…
That brought me right back to examining the room around us, wishing weapons had somehow appeared in the past three minutes. What if I was wrong about Paval, and we were truly on our own? I glanced at Digby, who watched me with dark eyes, then shifted again.