The Damned: Part 1~ Innocence

Chapter 2

THE LOCKER, AUGUST 1675

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 makeshift tent of some sort. 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 Maelstrom.

A million questions raced through her mind. Where was she now? Where was Vandecker? Was he alive? Did the crew make it out alive?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the tent's entrance rippled and another ship entered.

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 100 guns or 50 on each side, 16 per row.

Her masts were raked 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 was 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, whoever that may be. A Dauntless, that's what she was.

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

"If I wanted to harm you, I would've done so already." 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 two ships to survive the Great Flood, the other being her betrothed Ark.

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 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.