The Founding Sisters #1 The Damned

Chapter 3

CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA AUGUST 1694

She was cold, oh so cold. Every board, every line on her was tense with it. Lang Schadow had never been so cold and being from the North she was used to the cold but not this, not this. "Am I dead?" She asked herself.

Opening her eyes she decided the answer was no. Looking around she could see she was in a berth of some sort, a very fancy one at that. Supplies were spread around, stacked in neat piles according to use. As she rose up to get a better look at her surroundings a stab of pain wracked her and she dropped back down. She glanced at her side which was wrapped in bandages. "Broken ribs." She murmured.

She wondered how she even got here, then she remembered. The Cape, the battle. A million questions raced through her mind. Where was she now? Where was Vandecker? Was he alive? Did the crew make it out alive? She could hear ships talking outside and strained to listen.

"We have the latest reports from Charles' task force. These indicate the Dutch are looking to advance deeper into our holdings in China."

"Good work Cambridge, thank you." replied the second ship. Lang Schadow shivered at the power in that voice.

"Speaking of Dutch, what's your plans for our guest?" Cambridge asked.

"For the moment, nothing. She is to be treated with every courtesy."

"Why? You captured her as a prize. Why don't you put her into service as one of us?"

"My reasons are my own Cambridge. It is not your place to question them."

"Apologies flagship." Lang Schadow could all but hear Cambridge bowing her head before departing. As for the first ship, she was preparing to enter the berth. Lang Schadow quickly pretended to be asleep.

The entrance rippled and the other ship entered. For a moment she ignored Lang Schadow, fiddling with something on one of the shelves. Lang Schadow heard the sound of a compass box opening, then after a few seconds shutting again. The she turned. "I know you're awake." She said gently, but in a tone that offered no recourse.

Lang Schadow gave in. She opened her eyes and looked upon her captor. She was a large three masted British galleon around 450 feet long with a 50 foot beam which seemed wide but actually made her look quite robust. Her top deck was maybe 30 feet above the waterline and she likely had another 10 feet below the surface, if not more. She had three rows of cannons for a total of 90 guns or 45 on each side, 15 per row. Her masts were wracked back to grant her more speed and she looked like she could carry quite a bit of canvas.

But the most striking thing about her were her eyes. Sparkling a deep ocean blue, they reflected wisdom, grace, and power. Lang Schadow had never seen such eyes on a ship. The way she held herself suggested that she was in charge and she knew it but she wasn't arrogant about it. She had the look of a proud commander, proud but not arrogant. A fierce warrioress dedicated to her master, whomever that may be.

"Who are you?" Lang Schadow asked, on guard.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have left you out at sea." The ship replied. Her voice was deep, but not cutthroat and it had a musical tone to it. Lang Schadow could almost call it beautiful if she wasn't so frightened of the strange place she was now in. "As for who I am, I am HMS Britannia." She said.

Lang Schadow was sure she looked ridiculous as her jaw dropped. Of all the ships, none was more revered, even by the Dutch and the French, who hated the English, than HMS Britannia. She was the Divine Protector of the British Empire and as rumor had it, one of the first two ships to carry sails, the other being her sister Tevet. She was said to be immortal, having been granted the gift of eternal youth by the Ancients though she could still die in battle. She was no opponent any sane ship would want to face, unless they had a death wish that is.

"My apologies." Lang Schadow said, bowing her head low.

Britannia laughed. "You are forgiven young one." She replied. Moving forward, she nudged Lang Schadow's side gently. The fluyt winced. "They are healing nicely." Britannia said quietly. She looked at Lang Schadow who stared back in wonder.

"Where am I?" She asked. "You are in Cape Town. Or at least my version of it." Britannia replied. "This is a world within one. It is a place for the dead, a resting ground for humans and ships alike as their souls travel to the next world. And in order to provide comfort it mirrors its real counterpart."

"A place for the dead. Am I dead?" Lang Schadow asked.

Britannia laughed softly. "No." She replied. "No, you are very much alive I assure you. The Cape can act as a portal to unwary ships. During our battle you fell right into one. We all did rather. Thankfully however I have no difficulties getting in and out of this place."

"Why am I here?" She asked. Her gaze shifted to something she thought only she could see. There was another ship hovering behind Britannia. Similar in looks but her hull was pure white. Her eyes were amber instead of blue.

Britannia merely glanced at her. "I see you can see what I see." She mused. "I was hoping you would."

"I don't understand?" Lang Schadow rasped.

"To see the dead is a very rare gift. Even rarer still to be born with such an ability. You are a blessed ship Lang Schadow. More than blessed enough for what I have in mind for you."

"Name it." Lang Schadow replied.

Britannia's blue eyes narrowed. "Do not be so hasty." She said. "I need you to ferry souls from your world to here. The journey is becoming too hard on them as the veil grows ever thicker."

"You want me to ferry souls? Like the Ferryman?" Lang Schadow asked.

Britannia nodded. "Yes." She replied. "With your sight that shouldn't be too difficult. And by doing so, you'll also become part of my fleet. Given your powers you will be relatively high ranked for a newcomer."

Lang Schadow's eyes brightened, despite her situation. She'd rather serve a fleet than be a prisoner. The constant wars in Europe made it ingrained in all ships that a change of flag would occur at some point and that it would be easier to simply accept that. And being a part of Britannia's fleet too. Likely to be trained by Britannia herself! There were worse ways to change nationality.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Britannia stopped her. "But be warned." The old galleon said. "Should you renounce your duties, renounce your ancestors, or break your oath to me in any way, you will be punished for eternity." She growled.

Lang Schadow couldn't see how she could ever do such a thing as betrayal so she agreed. "I'll do it." She said bravely. Britannia smiled though her eyes remained dark. Did she know something about Lang Schadow that she herself did not?

"Right then," Britannia said, switching to English. "I am well aware of what your name means in Dutch so from now on you will be called Long Shadow. My fleet will be returning to the mortal realm tonight. You and I however will stay behind. There are some things you need to learn here."

The newly renamed Long Shadow bowed her head. "As you command, flagship." She replied.

Britannia gave her a hard nudge. "It's back to bed for now." She said. "You'll start your training in the morning. It's late."

Long Shadow nodded. "Alright Britannia, I shall obey." She replied. Once she had settled in, Britannia turned to leave.

"Please stay, I never liked sleeping alone." Long Shadow begged.

Britannia paused and turned back around, smiling gently. It seemed she knew no other expression. "If you insist." She replied and circled around, dropping down beside her apprentice. Her hull gently brushed Shadow's and the fluyt purred.

"Britannia?" She asked.

"Hmm." Her mentor replied sleepily, already settling in. Her warmth felt wonderful against Long Shadow who felt she could just snuggle herself into that flank and stay there for eternity. But first she had something she needed to say.

"Thank you."