“Either learn to throw that thing or go hide under the captain’s bed,” he snarled as he stalked off.
Aimi waited until Smithe had disappeared below decks, then released the breath she’d been holding. She sank down onto her arse. A laugh from above made her glance up. Looking down from just a few feet above her on the main mast was the deeply lined face of Jojo Hyrene. Aimi had spent many an hour in Jojo’s company, listening to his never-ending stories, and she counted the man as a true friend.
“He works pretty damned hard to be that scary,” Jojo said with a wide smile.
“It’s not just me then?” Aimi said. “He scares you too?”
Jojo nodded. “Scares everyone a bit, I think, even the Cap’n, though he’d never show it. Smithe served with Tanner back when this ship belonged to his daughter. He revelled in the cruelty.”
“Wait,” Aimi said. “The Phoenix belonged to that harpy, Elaina Black?”
Jojo laughed and his head bobbed up and down again. “Mhm, before Cap’n Stillwater stole it out from under her. The Phoenix was to be her first ship. Anyone else and I reckon she’d have chased them to Rin’s court and back, but not the Cap’n.”
Aimi looked away from Jojo, sucking on her teeth and trying not to feel the strange jealousy that bubbled up from deep down. Keelin was hers; he’d chosen Aimi over his old flame. They spent their free time together and talked about everything and nothing, often drinking cheap rum late into the night, and she spent more nights than not in his bunk these days. Still, that he had so much history with Elaina Black worried her. She only knew of the woman by reputation, but what she’d heard made her sound even scarier than Smithe.
With a noise approaching a growl, Aimi stood and collected her fallen knife. She returned to the practice spot and launched the little blade at the target again, this time imagining it was Elaina Black’s smirking face.
“Another one comin’ in,” someone shouted from somewhere high above her.
Aimi looked upwards to see Jojo climb up the mast a few feet and look towards the bay for a moment before breaking into laughter.
“What is it?” Aimi said as she retrieved her knife from the wall.
“The name of the ship is My Salty Wife,” Jojo said, still chuckling.
Aimi snorted out a laugh, but it was all she could manage in her dark mood. Her father used to refer to the sea as his salty wife, and used to say he often cheated on her with Aimi’s mother, but the sea was a jealous bitch and if the waves ever got wind of his adultery, his salty wife would sink him with barely a thought.
The thought of her parents brought with it a pang of regret. Aimi had never told them she was leaving, nor her sister. She’d just packed her bag and gone. She wondered how they were doing now, and if they still thought of her.
A laugh bubbled up and erupted from Aimi’s belly. She was halfway across the world, embroiled in a war to build a new empire, and she was fucking the man who was going to stand on the right-hand side of the throne – and she was missing her fisherman father and his wife. If she did one day return to her parents, Aimi could only wonder if they’d even believe her adventure.
Chapter 11 - Fortune
Beck stumbled over to one of the tables set out in the sand and collapsed onto the bench. The temperature had dropped considerably in the last hour as the sun sank down. A brilliant golden sunset was waning to the west.
Someone gave Beck a hearty slap on the back. Rather than bristle and threaten the offender, she accepted it as the comradery that it was. She was beyond exhausted from the labour, and there was still so much to be done. In just a few days they’d erected all of the support pillars and had started with the even lengthier process of actually building the wall plank by plank. It would never be the sturdiest of defences, but it didn’t have to be. The pirates didn’t intend to sit behind their wall for a lengthy siege, but rather use it to slow down any enemy who somehow made it past the flaming cliffs, sand monsters, and enchanted forest.
“Drink this,” Drake said as he sat down opposite Beck, placing a tankard in front of her. “It’s water.”
Beck took the tankard gratefully and started sipping at it, only then realising just how thirsty she was. She’d been working for most of the day, chanting blessings of strength to do the work of four or five people at once, or blessings of stamina to keep her muscles feeling fresh and energetic. It had taken its toll, and dehydration was only one of the issues she now faced.
“You need to slow down,” Drake said.
Looking up, she saw real concern on the captain’s face. He was ruddy-cheeked and sticky with sweat, his hair a tousled mess, and his face seemed to have sprouted some new lines. Beck sighed and took another sip of water, her head drooping.
“I don’t know what it is you think you need to prove, but folk here are impressed. You’ve already done more than your share of work, but I need you to slow down. I need you ready for a fight, not collapsed in a heap like Tatters.”
Beck glanced sideways at Admiral Tatters. The man was an unconscious drunken mess. He’d helped a little with the defences, erecting a pole or two, but the lure of booze had quickly taken hold and before long he was more liability than asset. To think he’d once been a loyal, respectable admiral in the Sarth navy, and now he was the town drunk of a pirate colony at war with Sarth.
“I’ll be fine,” Beck insisted, not looking up from her tankard. She didn’t want to look at Drake lest he see the guilt she was feeling. Inquisitor Vance had given her very specific orders, but for now she was to help the pirates against Sarth and the Five Kingdoms and protect Drake against any and all threats.
For a while Drake said nothing, and Beck was content to pretend he’d gone, but she knew he was still sitting there, watching her.
“Here,” he said eventually, and Beck heard him drop something heavy onto the table. “We might all be working together, but you really shouldn’t leave valuable things like this just lying around.”
Beck looked up to see her leather jerkin on the table. She’d taken it off early in the day when the sun was high and hot and labouring in such heavy clothing became unbearable. She was more than hot enough in just a blouse and trousers.
“Looks like someone made off with one of your pistols. Might be I can ask around and find it.”
Beck looked closer and saw that one of the guns usually strapped to the front of the jerkin was indeed missing. She shook her head, still refusing to meet Drake’s eyes. “I think I left it in your cabin when I was cleaning it the other day.”
“Maybe we should go and retrieve it then, eh?”
There was no mistaking the suggestion in Drake’s voice. They’d fucked on the way back from Ash, and Beck wouldn’t deny she’d both wanted and needed it, but she also couldn’t deny she was getting too close to Drake. The pirate was her mission, not her friend or lover, and she didn’t need the distraction. She looked up at him then.
“Sure,” she said, and cursed herself for giving in so easily.
Drake grinned and disentangled himself from the bench. Beck stood slowly, finishing her tankard of water and scooping up her jerkin as she followed the pirate towards his ship. She knew she should have said no – she’d meant to say it. She’d meant to find some food and crawl into her bunk to spend the rest of the night asleep in preparation for another hard day of labour, but she wanted Drake. She wanted to taste his lips and feel him inside her. Inquisitor Vance had given her specific orders, but he hadn’t forbidden her from having sex with Drake, so she was breaking no rules other than her own.
They made it all the way to the beach in silence before an interruption both saved and disappointed Beck. Captain Sienen Zhou shouted to them as he hurried over. The captain of Freedom was short and wiry with long hair and an even longer moustache that dropped down past his chin and towards his chest.