The Pirate's Legacy: New Identities

Chapter 1: A Bountiful Princess

"Dock-ho, Cap'n! Portside 'twixt the sloop and the fishin' boat!" shouted Mr. Drummond, the lookout.

Behind the great steering wheel, Dread Pirate Robin gave the signal to the first mate.

Michael Turnbull stepped into the helm's balcony. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Alright lads, hold on!"

The captain turned the wheel sharply to the left. Everyone braced themselves as the ship tilted and jerked toward the direction of the empty dock a few yards before them.

When the ship righted, the first mate called, "All hands on deck posthaste! Get to your stations and prepare to make berth!"

At his words, everyone on the main deck jumped into action. The humming rhythm that everyone had grown accustomed to these last few days at sea now became a buzzing crescendo. More men poured out from the hatch and then took up their duties at various places on the ship. Men filled the masts quickly in order to furl the sails. A flurry of short orders thickened the air, not all issued by the first mate, that could be heard from every direction.

"Easy! Easy does it now!"

"—I says ye need to let go the jib!"

"Two knots speed now, me maties. Careful on the tiller!"

Michael shaded his eyes as he tilted his head heavenward. Not a cloud blemished the blue sky. He returned to the captain's side. "We've lost the storm." The grin on his tan face contrasted with the seriousness on the older man's unnaturally pale complexion.

"It'll come," said the Faethm Ocean's most feared pirate. "She still sleeps?"

"As much as you've let her," piped Michael. His grin never faltered, accustomed as he was to Roger's moods. He did wonder what about letting Em stay in bed set off the captain.

Roger gave the steering wheel over to Michael. In agitation, his left hand rubbed his right hand, around which a dirty bandage was loosely wrapped. "I've allowed her to stay in too long," he muttered.

Blue eyes flickered over the healing wound. "You should get that redressed before we make port," suggested Michael.

Dread Pirate Robin didn't like the thought of leaving the first mate to oversee the entire berthing operation of his ship, but he had to change the bandages. The wound continued to excrete pus, but at least with the help of the stitches it was healing. Emelia had to be woken up as well. The captain shook his head. "I've become lenient on her." The jagged scar on the left side of his lips contorted.

"She's allowed some leniency. If she hadn't taken that hit, you wouldn't be here, Roger."

The captain threw the first mate a threatening glare even though the chance of anyone hearing his first name was unlikely with the bustle on the ship. "Take care of my ship or you'll be aboard for the entire stay," Roger warned before making his way toward the stairs. As he walked down to the main deck, every man that saw the captain pass by either averted their eyes or hid from view. These movements went unnoticed by Roger, who grew more and more annoyed as his mind's eye replayed the scene of Em jumping in front of his fallen form and taking the blade that would have snuffed out his life.

Mad woman, he thought with increasing bitterness.

Whether his anger came from resentment from being saved by a woman, or out of the worry he had felt when her screams of pain rang in his ears, Roger had worked himself into a frenzied state by the time he reached Em's cabin on the second deck. He stopped in front of her door, taking deep breaths to calm down. Muffled whimpers came through the solid wood. He opened the door to see Em in the bed with the sheets tangling her limbs. Her hands were clutched close to her body, her eyes shut tightly. Roger's irritation began to ebb. Em whimpered again. She was having another vivid dream. She didn't know that Roger was aware of them, and he believed that unless Em confessed to him about the visions, what messages her goddess sent her should be known to the receiver only.