Raw Winter

Chapter 27: Swear to God

She could feel the discontent mixed with the approval, like two battling tides attempting to determine which would overcome the other. She spent much of her time on deck after that first initial afternoon. The sudden, forceful conquest of Hades Smith weighed heavily on her psyche, and she thought she saw him out of the corner of her crystal eye often. She didn't show any remorse, sometimes waving to him from time to time. She felt this amused him more than anything, or perhaps she was just irredeemably cracked in the head. Either was fine with her; she didn't have time to feel superstitious about the whole thing.

She was very attentive, working alongside them just as she always had, and giving orders when it was necessary. They were drawing close to the port, and she made an announcement, standing in front of them with no effort to raise herself or make herself bigger. Her sharp demeanor and straight stance were enough to do it for her.

"We're about to land in Port Vestar," she told them, "and I know not all of you were happy with how I bested our former captain—may Lyviarian keep his soul in his dark depths—so I offer a choice. I will not make any attempt to stop or prevent any of you from leaving. I will not hunt you or threaten you family if you choose to quit me, but if you intend to quit me, if you find yourself discontent with me as your captain, I ask you leave in Vestar and never speak of me or your tenure amongst us again. I will renounce you. If you stay with me after despite your misgivings about me, and decide to betray me, know your life will be horrible until the moment it's given up by your body. This I swear."

The men standing around her were astonished, and she could see more than a few looks of fear and uncertainty at her provocation of the god Lyviarian. Lyviarian was a merciless sea god and would ask for nothing less than blood from anyone who may evoke his name, man or woman, and it was true; Rawintr had already proven her willingness to shed blood, any blood. For her to speak his name so openly, so forcefully, it would speak of her determination to follow her word, to seek destruction in her forward momentum, or else to face a terrible and all destructive end for her and all in her proximity, all under her name.

Marcal stood near the back of the crew, his arms crossed. He barked, "I didn't expect you to be so quick to keep your word in your intentions, but you kept it alright. I'll drink on it and we'll see if I make my way back to the ship or not by morning."

The other crew members were hushed, perhaps expecting something violent, something unpredictable in response, but she answered, "I remember what you told me, and I couldn't agree more. I hold no ill will towards any of you that should choose not to make it back."

"I think I like me a decisive captain," Adders said with a grin that revealed missing teeth. "Nothing but solid straight-shooting from this one. A good one to follow old Hades."

There was bristling and agitated muttering at his wording. Few onboard were ready for any talk of shooting, metaphorical or otherwise. They knew Adders played his part in her ascent as well, even if the wiry man didn't know about it.

"I think this ought to be settled before we make port, says I," said a man that stood beside Joeson—the same Joeson she had praised for his good sight.

This friend of his was less notable, but she knew his name to be Cartledge—not quite cartilage, but easier for him to spell; maybe the only thing he knew how to spell. His nose was naturally crooked and his words had a slight whistle. As he stepped forward, Joeson gave him an approving pat on the shoulder. Rawintr felt tired, as she already knew she was about to lose a good man along with a bad one.

He continued, unaware of the way Rawintr analyzed him and his more impressive friend, "Me thinks that the best course of action at this point is a proper duel between you and me. Not once has a woman ruled on this ship and not once will she, I says. You're a cheat and a fraud, Wylf, and I won't be having it."

"If you'll be having her corpse, you ought to share it after," one of the crew called from her blind side, and she hoped for their sake they never spoke to her again before they got the chance to escape at port. She couldn't imagine how the rest of her crew felt about such comments about her because most of them were still petrified at the fact she had invoked Lyviarian.

Only Cartledge guffawed before continuing, "and I won't be having any of your tricks. On the name o' Lyviar if you draw any sort of pistol or pull any sort o' trick, the rest of the crew may fall upon you and eat you up. You got that?"

"I understand your terms, yes," she answered. She was deathly calm, aware he spoke either as a fool or coward for not saying the name properly. The rest of the crew—the ones that weren't as dense—knew it too. Even Joeson appeared unnerved. He shifted on his feet, but she knew he was smarter than to interfere.

"So you be accepting or are you--"

"I accept," she snarled, and it seemed to rattle him to be interrupted. Despite how she knew she could go in for the kill the second she agreed, she waited for him to fumble for his sword. He got it and raised it above his head, but she darted forward and slammed her blade into his side before coming around to slam it into his right leg.

She would have known better if she had known him as well as she had gotten to know some others, but he annoyed her so there weren't many opportunities. The blade sunk into his thick, wooden leg and stuck steadily.

She tugged it, but it was slow to come free. He opened his mouth to mock or provoke her, but she snarled in irritation and threw herself at him before he could have his sword in place again. Her teeth clamped on his throat and sunk in. His face scrunched up in confusion as he fell back on the deck and his head cracked. His hand went slack and his blade clattered to the deck as she tore the life out of him. The thick and salty taste of blood in her mouth was gratifying.

After, his blood covered her and everyone was silent as she moved off him after straddling his dead body to get a better grip. She looked up, expecting silence, and so it almost startled her when they clapped and cheer. Not that they all were. There were those who were silent, but it was nothing more than silence. There was not one amongst them scoffing or jeering anymore. She couldn't imagine if that meant they were now too afraid to, or if there was no one against her anymore. That wasn't likely.

"We're going to be making dock before long and we still have a barrel left over and no more need to ration. Why don't we celebrate your new captain?" She asked, and the cheering resounded louder. Even some who had grown stone silent cheered. Not all of them, but definitely some of them. That still didn't dampen the sense of unity she felt for them as a couple lifted her to her feet and another went to get the barrel and they had a round of drinks before returning to work with more vigor than ever. They were all eager to dock.

Yulsylus mopped her face clean before they made land, and she said nothing more. It was their decision whether they stayed or went and whether they made it back to the ship before the time they were leaving. Joeson didn't return, but Marcal did. Despite her new position as captain, she was the first to help him load up the provisions onto the Red Liar, and he continued to be grateful for it.