SINGED
Chapter 4

“I am glad to see you doing so well,” Cayn said.

I stared at him, standing there on the deck. I smiled and shook his hand. We had met just that once, but we were friends. My first friend, I thought.

“Were you taken too?” I asked.

It seemed obvious, a foolish question really.Yet Cayn hesitated. Suddenly I knew the truth and pulled my hand away.

“You helped them take me,” I said, voice trembling with simmering anger.

“You would have been taken either way,” he hastened. “I chose you for the Mist Drake, told them the Captain would have you. The others went on to a slave galley. I saved you.”

I punched him hard in the gut and he doubled over, gasping. Then Sal was separating us, and others were holding me as I struggled. I pushed them away and advanced, but Sal stopped me.

“Cayn did save you,” he said.

His voice had a placating, almost pleading tone. I could see some of the others had drawn knives. With a growl, I acquiesced, not because of the blades but because his words were sinking in. Sal had said the same thing when I first woke aboard the ship, but it was making more sense. I remembered the woman at the gate, how she had looked upon me with pity. This was Alister’s doing. Sal continued to stand with hands raised defensively, eyes wary.

“Ok,” I said.

Cayn was climbing back onto his feet. He laughed or coughed, I could not tell which, but he was smiling, holding his stomach.

“That went better than I thought,” he said, “I knew you would fit in well. That was quite a punch.”

Odd, I thought. I had almost been happy until now. I did fit in well here. Yet to be tricked by someone I thought was a friend was unendurable.

“If we had met first, I would have asked you to join,” Cayn continued, leaning heavily against a rail. “I had a feeling about you, but I couldn’t cross Alister. He is too powerful in Lindor.”

I hesitated, then nodded. I could see the crew relax, knives gone or out of sight at least.

“I am glad you understand,” said a voice behind me. It was soft and lilting, laced with an accent I had not heard before; not Lindorian.

I turned. She stood upon the stair to the upper deck, her slender hand holding a lantern aloft. It was twilight and the bell chimed, signaling the beginning of the night watch, yet no one moved.

A raven black braid hung over her left shoulder. She had smooth olive skin. The hint of a smile touched her full lips then was gone. Her dark eyes regarded me, holding mine prisoner. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I am Captain Hawking,” she said. “Cayn chose well. Welcome to the Mist Drake.”

Turning, she gazed upon the rest of the crew.

“Change of watch has sounded. Let’s move smartly, lads.”

“You heard the Captain!” Sal roared, and the spell was broken, the crew hurried to comply.

I began to leave as well but the Captain motioned to me.

“Come with me,” she said, turning to ascend the stair. Once inside her quarters, she closed the door and hung the lantern on a brass hook.

“Please be seated,” she said, gesturing to a sturdy wooden chair by a table, covered with nautical charts with strange sigils crawling on their curled edges.

She wore a midnight blazer with tails and a high starched collar. Brass buttons glittered on her lapels and cuffs, and lace poured from her sleeves, tumbled down her neck, over the breast of her silk blouse. Dark velvet breeches hugged her thighs and she wore knee high leather boots. She looked every inch a Captain of the King’s Royal Navy. Again, her dark eyes held me spellbound. I waited for her to speak.

“How have your first days been aboard my ship?” she asked.

I shrugged, at a loss for words.

“I do not like to acquire my crew by force. It was at Cayn’s recommendation that I agreed to accept you from Alister, so you are mine. I have the receipt.”

I frowned. She laughed, not unkindly, touching my hand.

“So, my first official act as your owner is to free you. There are no other slaves aboard this vessel, if I can help it.”

She produced a scrap of parchment with an illegible scrawl upon it and tore it up.

“Done,” she said with a brilliant smile. “How does it feel to be a free man?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thank you,” I said dubiously.

“You’re welcome.”

She rose gracefully and opened the door. “That is all for now, but we will speak again soon.”

She watched me as I left. I returned to my hammock below deck as my watch was over.

Her words haunted me, though I could not place why, and I wondered what she meant by other slaves?

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