Tales of Fire and Ruin

Caught Between

Living close to a harbour meant I saw boats and ships from a distance all the time, but it had been ages since I was last on board of one. I valued my life, which meant I didn't go near the docks that lined the waterfront. That territory belonged to merchants, sailors, and pirates, who wouldn't hesitate to plunge a knife between my ribs the moment I turned my back. Not even the thunder of the gods could protect me from all of them.

The Thundercoast's docks used to bustle with life and trade, back when us Montbows ruled the seas. It'd been better times, when my father wasn't broken beyond recognition in more than one way, and we thought uncle Harold could be trusted. I remembered little of sailing now, safe for my father lifting me into his arms and showing me the muscular men rowing below deck. He would point at the stars at night, explaining how they guided us to the Richris islands.

All the Montbow ships that weren't sunken during the revolt on the islands were sold first. The sailors had warned us to never set sail on the trading route between Richris and the Thundercoast ever again, so we had no use of ships. They would rot in the harbour, falling into decay along with our family.

We rode our horses to the shore, where a sleek galley-like craft was moored to a makeshift wharf. While I couldn't remember how to sail, some of my knowledge of seafare still remained with me. I recognised it immediately as a ship from Richris. One with a heavy ram and a plank with spikes, favoured for warfare or protection of large merchant vessels. The flag was the flag of Richris; white with a blue dragon, but soaked in old, brown blood. Pirates. This ship must've belonged to pirates. Father had always warned me to never believe people sailing under that flag. They'd speak about sparing you if you cooperated. They wouldn't. Crack the hull with your thunder. Kill them.

"Is that a pirate ship?" I asked, nodding at the ship gently swaying in the water.

"Perhaps," Ariane replied with a lopsided smile. "Does it matter? It's my ship now."

"I hope the pirates it belongs to agree with that too," I said.

Ariane no longer humoured me with a response. She handed the reins of her horse to a male servant and walked onto the wharf. The planks moaned and creaked under her feet but didn't break. Ariane boarded the ship first, with some of her retainers hurrying after her.

If Conrad had arranged this ship, I was willing to bet the pirates were food for the bottom feeders in the ocean. In pieces. I tried not to dwell on the fate of the previous owners as I boarded the ship myself.

I thought I'd feel some kind of way when standing on deck, given our family's history. But I pressed my palm to the boat mast rising into the sky, listened to the waves slapping against the hull, and felt nothing. Until my eyes fell on brownish stains on the planks below my feet. Old blood.

Since we left the mansion, Oleander had been staying very close to me. He was standing beside me now, too. I hoped he hadn't noticed the smears under his feet. I remembered he didn't like Ytel even mentioning violence, let alone seeing blood.

"Look at the sunlight on the water," I distracted Oleander, pointing at the ocean. "Isn't it beautiful?"

I walked to the railing, and Oleander followed. He peeked down over the edge and smiled. "It is," he agreed.

We watched the waves together as Ariane's servants coiled ropes and lifted the anchor. After a few moments, the boat rocked, and we were off, heading for open water. I assumed we would slowly circle around at the cliffs near my family's mansion, waiting for an attack.

I leaned towards Oleander. "If it comes to a fight tonight, stay aboard this ship," I told him quietly.

Oleander's eyes went round as he turned to me. "But I don't want you to go alone."