Raw Winter

Chapter 35: Instinct

         "I don't believe I'm a good captain," Rawintr told Marcal as her fingers dug into the grease of the plate under her fingertips, the sensation making her a little nauseous as she stared down in the soapy water, "or maybe it's that I don't believe my role as captain is legitimate."

"What's got you saying that?" Marcal responded. "Was it something one of them said? Are they acting like they don't respect you?" She didn't have to look at him to know he was wearing an expression that suggested he already knew. It was a matter of fact look that conveyed how he felt what she was saying was idiotic without saying it. After what she had done to gain her place as captain, it didn't matter if she felt like one or not. She was the captain now.

She could hear the knife sliding through carrots and other vegetables as he prepared the meals they would need. She imagined he was cutting other things as well, but she could only imagine the carrots.

"Of course they respect me," she answered. "I just don't understand why they would. Am I not awkward, brash and unstable?"

"You take good care of them when they treat you right. What do you think Hades Smith was? An angel?" Marcal snorted.

She felt her stomach turning repeatedly as she stared at the water. She lifted her head as if to look at him, but let her gaze drop back into the dishwater.

"I can't finish these," she told him, dropping the plate and walking up to the deck.

They had been surrounded for days now, the navy ships coming closer and closer each day. Her lip curled, and she barked at her crew, "It's time to turn the ship to starboard. Turn sharply now."

Her head was pounding, and she kept rubbing her fingers against the cloth of her pants. She couldn't recall when she had changed over. It had to be before they pulled her aboard this vessel, as she couldn't remember wearing anything other than pants on this ship. Not since she was a small child being brought aboard for the first time.

The ocean was hissing in her ear. She growled. She couldn't get the sensation of grease out from under her fingernails.

"Hurry or we're going to miss our chance entirely. They're going to fill us with holes if we're not quick enough," she yelled.

Their blood was as loud as the ocean to her ears, and she could hear their hesitance and confusion. She knew they were less aware of what was approaching them, just that there was a ship pursuing for a while now. None had the brass to question her. The ship was turning. She went to stand beside the wheel, beside Mesmar, and watched his steering to make sure it was tight enough.

She looked up at the crow's nest and Whistle immediately started calling the signals as the other ship became apparent with their sudden turn. From what she could hear, they were turning tight enough the other ship hadn't yet realized they were turning at all.

She moved to the deck, standing by the railing, and on her way down she motioned for Adders to walk with her. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Ah, captain. Aint nothing for you to worry about," he said.

"You're dizzy, aren't you?" She asked, pulling out her pistol.

He eyed it, and she could hear his heart quickening, but it clicked like cogs sticking together. She turned the pistol around and placed it in his hand as she asked, "Can you load this for me?"

"What?" He replied and then heard what she said. "Oh, sure." He still appeared tense as he looked at her and back down at the pistol. His hands were shaking as he loaded it for her, and she knew why he was afraid.

"It's not for you," she said.

"Of course it aint. I know that, captain," he replied, but she knew for a fact he didn't. She didn't attribute his hands shaking to fear when he handed it back, but it impressed her how quickly he loaded it. She pointed it at the deck.