Page 4 of Escaping Pirates
In his quarters, the captain twisted one of the ginger plaits that dangled from his chin, considering me for a long time. I remained silent, too frightened to speak first. My ship’s crew had long since disappeared on the horizon, but I could still see the column of smoke from the burning merchant ship. There would be nothing left for anyone to find. I didn’t want to even think about what my parents and two younger siblings would think when they heard the news of the ship’s disappearance.
“You’re a clever girl,” he finally said. “You found a way to provide your crew with flotation devices without my daughters noticing. Since Sugar and Blossom were happy, I didn’t call attention to it or punish you for it. You ought to thank me.”
The muscles in my neck tightened, but a self-satisfied vengeance coursed through my veins as I mumbled a hasty “Thanks.” Whether he liked it or not, I had given the crew a way to survive…at least a little longer.
“Thank you, Captain Harsh,” he corrected.
“Thank you, Captain Harsh,” I repeated clearly, loathing how the words felt on my tongue.
“A clever girl like you would recognize an opportunity when she sees it, and I’m offering you a golden opportunity.” His teeth gleamed as he smiled his toothy grin at me.
I said nothing.
The captain rose and paced the room, hands clasped neatly behind his back. If I’d met him under different circumstances, I might have taken him for a cordial merchant or businessman with rather eccentric choices in styling his facial hair.
“I’ve not always been the best father,” he continued, grunting slightly as he sat at the edge of his desk and folded his hands in his lap as though he expected tea and sympathy. Did he plan to elaborate about his tragic childhood next?
“I know you see me as an unfeeling mercenary,” he went on, talking as calmly as if we were discussing the weather. “But my two girls, my treasures, mean more to me than anything else. I would do anything for their happiness.”
Clearly. Theft, murder, kidnapping…any of those were a small price to pay as long as his two selfish daughters had whatever trinket caught their eye. All my father’s traded goods were in their hands; a fortune’s worth of luxury items. How long would they be kept happy? Greed was always insatiable.
“It’s a hard life for them,” he sighed, unconcerned by my silence. “Always at sea and unable to attend all the parties they wish to. They bear their trials well, but they’ve lacked the companionship of other women and wish to discuss things that I, unfortunately, know little about.”
I refrained from pointing out that a pirate’s daughters would never be accepted into any social circles, regardless ofwhether they’d had the opportunity to interact with other women. At least, norespectablesociety would welcome them.
“Are you always so quiet, lass?”
“It depends on my company,” I answered curtly. “Considering how my crew was treated today, I’m not feeling particularly conversational.”
He smirked. “Don’t fear. You’re quite safe here.”
I suppressed my urge to snort derisively, but the captain picked up on my skepticism nonetheless. “You are,” he assured me. “As long as you do what I say.”
“What is it that you have in mind?” I eyed the open porthole behind his desk, hoping to see any sign of land, but there was none. Jumping off the ship wasn’t an option if I wanted to survive.
“It’s simple, really,” Captain Harsh said pleasantly, clapping his hands together. “My girls want company and for someone to style their hair, tighten corset strings, things like that. I certainly wouldn’t ever allow any of my crew into their quarters to assist with such things, but you would be perfect for it.”
I would be doing just what Enid had helped me do so many times. I stared out the porthole again as if hoping she would appear. I may never know what happened to her, but I couldn’t dwell on Enid’s hypothetical circumstances when my own were so pressing. My only choice might be to obey, but serving people like Captain Harsh and his daughters after watching my crew disappear on the horizon…? My stomach soured at the thought.
“How am I to know I won’t be harmed by anyone?” I asked.
“On this ship, my word is law.”
“And if I refuse?” My quavering voice betrayed me, and the captain’s beard twitched as he observed me.
“Then you’d be a fool.” He went back to stroking his braids again. “I’m a generous man. I’ll give you three days to think it over. It doesn’t matter to me if someone is in the brig or not.” A wicked smile lit up his face. “Besides, the rats get lonely down there. Send them my love.”
It only took one night spent in the brig to come to my decision.
I was thrown into a chilly cell with rickety iron bars coated in rust. A hard wooden bunk served as a bed, and the pillow might once have been soft, but the straw was musty and had been made into a rat’s nest. Their squeaking and scurrying kept me awake all night—not that I would have been able to sleep anyway, too sick with worry about Enid and the others to rest. A steady drip of murky brown water plinked down into a puddle where the rats drank.
Every ship had to make port eventually; no one could sail forever. If I was released from the cell under the guise of assisting Harsh’s daughters, would I be able to leap overboard once the shore or another ship came into sight? I eyed the small privy hole in the floor that dropped down to the ocean below. It wasn’t much wider than my two fists put together. Could I widen the gap enough to fit through? If I could, I would be able to drop down into the water below and swim to shore even from my cell. Most gratefully, there didn’t seem to have been many past occupants. But when I inspected it further, the small chute below the hole extended a long way down to the ocean, and all the wood was hardened and far too tough for me to pull even a single plank from, much less widen an entire tunnel that stretchedmany times my body length. I slumped back onto my bunk, thinking hard.
Even if I was willing to accept the captain’s offer, there were no guards anywhere in the brig that I could inform of my decision. They must have had no interest in rats scuttling around their boots. With that thought, I drew my feet closer to me, tucking the fabric of my dress more tightly beneath me so my bare ankles were covered, and shivered. There was no blanket.
If I had ever sat through a longer night, I couldn’t remember it. Each time my consciousness slipped fractionally closer to slumber, something would move across the floor and I would jerk back up to full alertness once more. A few times, something furry crawled up the wooden bench and I swatted at it with a slight scream. I’d never had to kill anything before, and couldn’t see well enough to start now, so I contented myself with slapping away anything that came close to me.
The temperature dropped throughout the night so that even though it was far from freezing, I was still plenty cold, and I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since being taken prisoner. Was this my future? Tears silently leaked from the corners of my eyes and I cursed my own stupidity for ever wanting Father to let me go on one of his business trips in his stead. I had wanted to see the world, but if this was what the world was like, I had no interest in experiencing any more. What I wouldn’t give to be back at home. The events I had rolled my eyes at and deemed dull—dances, lessons, and socials—were far superior to this. They were safe. What would my parents say when the ship never made it to port? Would they believe I had survived, or would they hold a funeral without my body there, assuming all hope was lost? Was there any chance ofanyone in the crew surviving and making it to land to send aid?
