Chapter 1 Homecoming

She was somewhat of a paradox, on the outside cold, heartless, ruthless, and cruel; but to those with insight, loyal, kind, and caring. Morgan’s other more conspicuous name was Bloody Mary, and fate had made her a pirate captain. She was standing on the quarterdeck of her vessel The Brothel Beauty, one hand at the wheel, the other protecting her eyes from the shiny glare of the low setting sun, its flecks brushing the sea before her.  She was in contemplation; mostly about the fact she should have everything that made most pirates happy, a seaworthy relatively low maintenance ship, a fearsome reputation that preceded her, and a decent nest egg. Yet, she still felt her path wasn’t her own; she had the incessant feeling that a life of running from the king’s navy and always being close to having one’s guts sliced open, simply wasn’t for her. Her breath was made distinct by the cold air, not surprising as it was late in the season. Most captains didn’t sail The Gap this late in the year; she seemed to have a second sense for its unpredictability. The other captains groaned it was because she was a woman and irrational. Little did they know she had less experience as a captain than all of them.  She mused to herself that they were all a bunch of wet blankets, so they couldn’t complain. Her counterparts for the most part treated her like one of them, although she kept them in the dark about her real gains from piracy. A healthy dose of deception when dealing with them was required. If they knew she received most of her crowns from freeing slaves and rescuing hostages, instead of raiding rich merchant vessels and terrorising small coastal towns, she would be spending a lot of time trying to keep her head on her shoulders. Crewtown was the only home she had ever known. It was also home to all the unsavoury types, namely the aforementioned captains and their crews, but more importantly it was home to her friends and family. Protected by a narrowing of cliffs called The Gap, Crewtown sat hard against mountains which formed a natural barrier from attack. In front of her The Gap’s sharp walls fell away to reveal a harbor overshadowed by the jagged angles of mountains in the distance. Arriving home was always full of the need to see the friends that she had left behind and making sure her daughter was happy and keeping out of mischief. Thinking of Piper made her smile; she was probably terrorizing Rena, her unrestraint making itself evident. As if she could read thoughts, Meena placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Not long now.”

“You know you really shouldn’t sneak up on me,” she said.

“Aye, Captain,” Meena replied, before making herself at home upon the deck, cross legged she proceeded to methodically sharpen one of her swords.

Morgan ignored the edge of sarcasm in her friend’s voice and sent her eye’s outwards, the cursory glance leaving a nagging feeling, something wasn’t quite right about the view in front of her. “Meena, can you look towards the docks and tell me what you see?” She asked. Sensing the edge in her voice Meena snapped to attention before turning to stare into the distance. Searching her friend’s expression provided little answer, worse still and with little respect for tense nerves, Meena leapt up and sprinted onto the main deck. On a knifes edge Morgan could only watch as her friend scrambled. Grasping the closest ladder Meena continued a hurried climb until she reached the Crowe’s nest. Even with the considerable distance separating them Morgan could distinguish the dire expression upon her friend’s face.

“Meena, what is it!” She exclaimed.

Meena’s response was to bring her hands up to her mouth forming a trumpet, the act carrying her alarming call to Morgan’s ears, “HO, A FIRE AT CREWTOWN HARBOUR, IT’S THE BOSOM.” The Bosom, otherwise known as The Bouncing Bosoms, was a relatively, well-to-do-in-these-parts brothel, it was also home.

Morgan allowed herself a mere moment, then she released a forceful command into the chilly afternoon, “MARLO, THE BOSOMS ON FIRE; WE ARE COMING IN HOT.” After the affirmation of Marlo’s nod, her gaze found Meena once again, her friend still panting from a hurried descent. “Grab our four best fighters and be ready. I want you to protect those who are putting out the fire. Come and find me when you think it is under control.” Meena nodded before unsheathing her swords, the twin single edged blades adding to an undeniably menacing air.

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Sha had spent a lot of time of late pondering upon the fact that a cabin boy’s life wasn’t very glamorous. Sha’s knees were sore from scrubbing decks, his ears from receiving abuse. I mean why did he need to be constantly reminded that he was ‘a lowly bilge rat’ it was uncalled for. The only time such language had been warranted, was that one time he had left a bucket right outside of Marlo’s cabin, of course other more colorful profanities had been offered by the ships second on that day. Aside from being freed from a slave ship, he had thought being rescued by a very decent looking, well-rounded, fit, red-haired beauty, was high up on his list of things to do before he died. That and finally winning Captain’s Bastard, a decidedly addictive card game that the pirates had taught him. Admittedly, things hadn’t gone Sha’s way since he had set foot upon the Brothel Beauty. The captain had made no effort to hide the fact that she didn’t believe his slightly fictitious story about being a merchant’s son. Instead of being dropped off at the nearest port like the other rescued slaves, he was unceremoniously handed a bucket and given his new role as cabin boy. The captain had said it might teach him to come up with a better cover story. Sha was sure she wanted to keep him around because she liked to torture him. I mean really, he was clearly older than her and yet she smirked every time she mockingly yelled, “CABIN BOY.” His suddenly vigorous scrubbing of the deck was interrupted when Marlo strode past screaming orders; the thunderous sound sending his hand upwards in a salute. Realizing what he was doing Sha quickly covered the intuitive action by pretending to itch his forehead. Marlo locked eyes with him and bellowed way too close for comfort, “GET BELOW DECKS, GRAB ALL THE BUCKETS YOU CAN AND BRING THEM BACK HERE, NOW!” The shock of not being called cabin boy was all Sha needed. He sprinted, sliding at first on the wet deck, quickly making up for clumsiness with enthusiasm. It was as he was dropping off his second lot of buckets that he noticed an alarming sight. The ship was bearing down upon the docks, its speed impossibly fast, too fast. “There is no way we aren’t going to hit,” he thought to himself as he grasped the rail in panic. Thankfully, albeit suspiciously the only impact turned out to be a few loosened planks and a loud creaking noise. Sha was releasing his grip upon the railing, when a group of heavily armed pirates sped past him on the way to a hastily erected gangplank. Fighting the instinct to grab a sword and follow he grounded his feet and waited for orders.

The captain stepped past; an unusual level of emotion in her voice pulled Sha’s attention, “Marlo, guard the ship and our exit.”

“Aye Captain!” Marlo scowled clearly not happy to be left behind. The captain and her crew filed past, some appropriating a bucket before hurrying down the plank. Thankfully, before she reached the bottom, the captain gave Sha much needed instruction, “CABIN BOY, MOVE!” Sensing it wasn’t the best time to be belligerent, he snatched up a bucket and sprinted after.

Sha was surprised to find their destination was a brothel situated on the docks, a wooden boardwalk making it flammable as well as accessible to any who arrived at the bustling port. Fire licked its upper rooms, like a hand reaching out the window and onto the roof. Amidst the char and gloom was a sight that made Sha’s blood boil, dead town’s people and black clad figures, their bodies discarded in the turmoil. Clenching his fists, he felt bile rise in his throat, the black cloaks were familiar to him, and not in the friendly sense. Sha grasped desperately for something to funnel his anger towards, like cold water to the face, the captain met his gaze, a thoughtful look upon her beautiful face. Finding his breath once again he moved, filing in behind to help form a line. Busying himself he aided in passing buckets of water down and back. Before long, his muscles burned, he ignored the pain, bucket after bucket the ferocity of the fire diminished. Sha’s exertions taught him a few things, firstly he needed to work out more, and secondly the establishment he was helping to save seemed to be important to his captors. Sha was turning to receive another bucket when he sighted an unwelcome visitor. A black cloak rushing the captain from behind; she had no idea the danger at her back. Instinct reigned, sprinting towards the assailant, he aimed a well-practiced kick, which promptly connected, sending the black cloak hurtling backwards. The surprising force caused the attacker to release his sword. Sha had already stepped forward to ensure the assailants weapon could be grabbed before it reached the ground, then with a flick of his wrist, he let the borrowed sword fly. The projectile finding a home in the assailant’s neck, a look of surprise could be seen in the now dead black cloaks eyes. An uncomfortable feeling screamed at the edge of Sha’s mind, he grasped for the comfort of instinct and turned towards the captain, reaching out to grab her offered bucket. That was when he noticed everyone was staring at him. The only evidence that the captain had seen his actions, was a raised eyebrow.

“Can we just pretend you didn’t see that?” he asked, before snatching her bucket and turning to pass it onwards. Keeping his eyes downward, he inwardly berated himself. Yet, how could have reacted any differently.

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The cabin boy’s actions had unsettled her; Morgan wasn’t used to being in the habit of letting anyone come to her aid. Sha was a mystery to her, and he had just gifted her with another piece of the puzzle. Her mouth was working to reply to his decidedly disrespectful comment when she saw Meena jogging towards her. Both Meena’s swords were out, her long blonde hair mimicking the ribbons flowing from their hilts. It was never good to see Meena in such a fashion, especially if you were an enemy.

“Fires are under control, Captain,” Meena affirmed. Morgan made a mental note to talk to her friend later, she knew better than to think Meena wasn’t affected by the fires that had destroyed a quarter of their home.

 “Aroon, go get Marlo,” Morgan directed, Aroon nodded and took off at a run. The wait seemed to take an eternity; she had to stop herself from tapping her feet. Marlo’s arrival was marked by her impatient words, “Do you have any idea who these people are?” She pointed in the direction of black clad body.

Before Marlo responded, the half giant bent low to inspect the nearest body. A thoughtful look graced his features as he gently closed the man’s eyelids. When he finally broke the silence, his words were coupled with a worry filled frown, “I have heard of what I thought was a legend. A league of assassins that hail from Sirillia called Black Cloaks. They have these black dots on their bodies, but from what I remember of the stories, they only bother with assassinating and bribing.”

Morgan frowned. “Doesn’t seem like a legend now,” she thought. Shrugging off a loitering feeling that things were not what they seemed, she sent out orders, “Finish up, we need to find the precious cargo.” She moved, pressing matters fueling her footsteps. Marlo barked orders at her back something he was good at in any situation, “Meena, with me,” she commanded, unsheathing her cutlass, the comforting presence, suiting a decidedly vengeful mood. Meena knew where to go without being told, she placed herself in front, eyes darting towards every dark movement. Morgan fought the urge to rush, alas the unmeasured situation required a jog. They made it to the rear of the brothel without fanfare. Morgan spied their destination, a trap door situated in the alley just outside the rear gate. It was locked from the outside, bending down she placed a key into the lock, she didn’t see the black cloak dropping from the roof. Meena, however, used the wall as a springboard, bringing her swords up to push the assailant’s blade clear. The force of her friend’s momentum was enough to send the attacker backwards and into the fence.

“Go Captain, I got this,” Meena affirmed, pairing her words with an untoward smile that brought little comfort. Meena squared her stance, sooty faced she raised her foremost sword and lowered the other, the whole effect decidedly menacing. Morgan dropped through the trap door, leaving Meena to her sport. The walls of a custom-built tunnel closing in around her. All at the Bosom knew to use the tunnel in case of trouble. It was possible to break the lock from the inside if the need arose, yet today the lock had been left intact. Left in silence, her heart staged an escape from the confines of her chest, “If no one else is alive, please let Piper be,” the harsh thought a catalyst for guilt. Morgan tapped on the closest wall, the immediate silence sending her towards panic.

Thankfully, a pompous voice rescued her, “You could have come sooner, we could have saved more rooms.”

“Rena, I’m so happy that you are alive, where is she?” Morgan blurted, powerless to keep the fear out of her wavering voice.

Silhouettes moved before her, then a voice she so desperately needed to hear brought sweet relief, “I’m here, don’t worry. I got us all out. Rena was running around like a headless chicken when the attackers came,” Piper spoke in a blissfully uppity tone.

“Why you little!” Rena screeched.

Morgan flinched; the start of a headache announcing itself. “Enough you two! How many made it out with you?” She asked.

Morgan’s eyes were still adjusting to the dimness and although she could see Rena’s shifting silhouette it was Piper who replied, “Everyone except blind Pete.” Morgan felt for the nearest wall, suddenly needing the comfort of its stability. Piper continued offering comforting yet empty words, “He was brave. He used his quarter staff to hold them off while we escaped.”

Morgan steadied herself, taking stock of the situation, it was obvious that the girls were running on adrenaline. Pushing her emotions aside she spoke rougher than intended, “Get everyone outside and onto the ship.”

After freeing the fearfully confined from their hidey-hole, Morgan established herself at the front of the column, Meena wordlessly assigning herself the rear. The exhausted girls were paying little attention to their surroundings, she sent her senses out, checking every dark corner. Piper came behind, the child conversing as if it was any other day, “So, what did you bring back for me this time, a teddy, clay doll or perhaps something more exotic?” Morgan felt a sense of pride, the small girl at her back had always exhibited unwavering courage even in a chaotic world.

After checking a side alley, Morgan replied while glancing upwards at the rooftops, “You know you are spoilt, right?” The group rounded a corner, that’s when her crew saw them, cheers erupted, smiles reaching faces that must have been longing for the sight. She led them past a pile of bodies, looking back she gave Piper a reassuring glance, the little one’s response a firm nod. As they walked onwards, her crew closed in, greetings were shared. The protection of her crew enabled an impulsive act, bending down she held out her arms, and soon Piper was captured in her embrace. Despite her crews comforting presence she knew it was still too risky to cry or show any form of affection, instead she gently tapped Piper’s back.

When the little one came up for air, she met Morgan’s eye, before uttering a cheeky comment, “Aww, you did get something for me?”

Confused at first, Morgan glanced in the direction of Piper’s pointed finger, at the end of the indication was the cabin boy, who was hard at work dousing a smoldering pile; his hardened muscles covered in soot and sweat. Her response brisk, “That is wrong on so many levels. You my dear, have been spending way too much time with Bria.” Morgan’s gaze lingered admitting to herself that it was a nice sight. She shook her head to dismiss unwanted feelings and reminded herself that the cabin boy was just another problem that she would have to deal with, his surprising actions could not be ignored. Thoughts darkening, she sighed, released Piper, and walked purposefully towards her ship. Aroon was waiting for her at the top of the gangplank, dreading his report did not change the fact it was her duty to listen to his words. The day had left six villagers dead, including Pete and another five crewmembers from other ships, her thoughts darker than the night before her.