Mortance: A Miscarriage of Hope

Jade Ⅳ

We hadn't started off with much, but after a week, the food really began to dwindle. A week, I thought. Is that how long it's been? It was hard to tell. Every day was much the same since Christopher James had pushed me into the rowboat and we'd escaped the battle. "Cap'n's orders," he'd said. "I'm takin' ye the rest o' the way te Seasport."

The Woman Scorned was a wreck, last I saw it. Tempest's ram had gone halfway through the ship, and from there was only chaos. I remembered blood. I remembered the ship sinking around us as we fought for our lives. This isn't how Princess Jade of Merian is supposed to die, I remembered thinking. I have to find a way out of this. There were so many bodies when I left, a few whose names I knew. Captain Ahryn might be among them now. Last I saw her, she was bleeding from her face as she directed Christopher James and I to safety.

The first mate seemed confident in his captain's chances, though. "She's survived worse," he claimed. I feared to ask what might've been worse. That was no battle, that was a massacre. As far as I knew, as far as it seemed, Christopher James and I were the only survivors. I hope I'm wrong, but I should know better than to trust that hope. It didn't matter anyway, these pirates were only a stepping stone on my path to bring Merian back to the world. However much I had liked them, Captain Ahryn in particular, their deaths were unimportant so long as the first mate and I made it to Seasport.

But as the days went on, that became increasingly unlikely. There were only two of us, but we still had to ration our food from day one. We'd both lost weight, so much so that practicing swordplay became impossible. Christopher James was growing out a beard now, and it might have looked good if he wasn't so starved.

I could swim for fish, I might've volunteered if I dared. Christopher James didn't know what I was, and though he seemed trustworthy, it was best to keep him in the dark. Merian must rise from nowhere, Ouran and I had both agreed. The secret of our existence could not be spoiled by anyone but ourselves. The king would agree with us on that, at least.

Our rowboat was small, not meant for such travel as this. There was just barely enough room for Christopher James and I both to lay and sleep without pushing any food out of the boat. We moved very slowly. The only oar we had was broken, and this tiny rowboat had no sail. We should've sailed back towards the Lonely Isle, I would've said. It was closer than Seasport. Christopher James had seemed so confident he could get us there, though, that I hadn't voiced the thought. He was the pirate, the sailor, the man who had been sailing the seas for nearly as long as we'd both been alive.

But today, he finally admitted his mistake.

"Shoulda sailed fer the Lonely Isle," the first mate said, throwing the broken oar down in frustration. "I coulda gotten us a real ship te take us te Seasport."

"I thought as much," I said. I'm going to die out here, alone and starving.

"Ye shoulda said so."

"I thought you knew what you were doing," I said. "You're the sailor. You should know where the best place is to go."

"I ain't some genius, I ain't any more than what ye see 'ere," Christopher James shook his head. "Thought we could make it. I 'as wrong."

"Is it too late to turn around?" I asked.

"Aye," he nodded grimly.

"Then we keep going. We can't just give up because we think we'll fail." Merian and the rest of the merfolk were even worse off than us. Their descendants are thriving now.

Christopher James smiled. "Yer thinkin' the right way. Nothin' better te do anyways. Ye'll have te row now, though."

"Aye," I said. The first mate handed me the broken oar. I rowed for the rest of the day.