Chapter 6 To let go does not mean to forget
To let go does not mean to forget
~Margarette Vilfour
I stood at the helm, staring up at the red sails reaching toward the clouds. The sun bled across the fabric, making a brilliant crimson hue that I’d never forget. Beside me, Gus stood with his arms crossed, and on my other side was Mullins, hands on his narrow hips.
We were all thinking the same thing. I wasn’t sure why it pained me to say it out loud, but there was no avoiding the obvious.
“Well?” Mullins said, breaking the silence. “Is someone going to say it?”
Gus let out a long, loud sigh. “They’re rather prominent, aren’t they?”
I took a deep breath, watching a beam of sunlight glint brightly through a small tear in the main sail. The old things were in need of repair anyway. It was only fitting.
“We need to change the sails,” I said.
“We’ve got some extras in—” Mullin’s started.
“Shut up, Mullins,” Gus cut him off, reaching behind me to deliver a slap to his shoulder. “We both know what he’s saying.” He leaned in close to me, raising a brow. “What color you thinking?”
“What else? White, like all the other common ships around here. Red is too noticeable.”
“I’ll say,” Mullins snorted. “The Rose is the only ship with ‘em.”
“Which means we’re easy to spot. If anyone wants the Burning Rose, they’ll have to find her. Then they’ll have to take her and I’m not letting either of those things happen. She’ll get white sails and a new name.”
“Whereabouts are we going to do that?”
“Thorpes,” Gus said, scratching his head. “It’s the only place that’ll do it and not ask questions. Even Abel’s point would be ideal, but it’s too far east. Too close to Treson Harbor.”
“Right. Because we’re pirates now, that it? No more wondering? Now that Whitton put a price on us, that is. And he’s dead now, so I expect that price is about to double.”
“We’re definitely not of the lawful variety,” I said. “But no matter what, someone somewhere is willing to pay for our services, especially if the xhoth start moving closer to the shores.”
“Could start intercepting merchant ships,” Gus suggested. “Really break her in. The Rose is probably itching for a bit of excitement, don’t you think?”
“Oh, she’ll get it. To Thorpes first. We’ll resupply, change her sails, and figure out where we’re heading next.” I stepped forward to turn and face them both. “Tell the men. We’re going inland.”
Mullins was quick to nod his approval of the plan and head down to spread the word.
Gus remained, leaning against the railing with that contemplative look on his face.
It was as if, since one of his eyes had been plucked and eaten by a siren, his other eye showed twice the expression.
Most of the time, I knew what he was thinking before a single word left his lips.
“Out with it, Gus,” I said, resting a hand on the wheel.
“You’re really going to say goodbye to her red sails.”
I shrugged. “She’s still mine without them and she’ll sail just as fast. Can’t really afford to have a vessel that stands out right now. Not when land and sea are equally full of enemies.”
Gus’s eye stared at me, analyzing. “Getting rid of her sails doesn’t just mean she’s getting a new look. It means we’re not privateers anymore. We’re fully on the run. You really willing to leave all that behind?”
“I can hunt just as well without a governor’s coin.”
“And the men?”
“They’ll get paid. We’ll intercept merchant ships if we have to. Keep hunting whatever the hell needs hunting for whomever the hell has the reward.”
He nodded, rubbing his scruffy chin. “We’ll have to be careful in Thorpes. They may not turn us in for being outlaws, but if anyone finds out about our companions, we’ll be in for a bad time.”
“We’ll do what we must. For now, the sails are our priority. We’ll all decide what to do after that later.”
When everyone’s bellies were empty and their tempers short, I could see the sunny shores of Thorpes in the distance.
Tall palm trees and stone towers adorned the shoreline where a barricade once stood strong.
Now, it was decrepit and riddled with holes from cannon fire after a petty war between factions swept across the island chain decades prior.
And without the military to maintain order in troubled times, the scum of the sea took over.
Dahlia joined me at the helm, her hair already piled into a leather hat.
She was wearing a thin, linen coat to further disguise her body.
Meridan, as usual, had made arrangements to stay aboard the ship or keep to the grottos along the island out of sight.
She was far too conspicuous to venture ashore with us, especially without Dahlia’s ability to alter her appearance.
It had all become a strange routine. One I didn’t think I’d ever have to get used to, but there we were.
“Have you been to Thorpes?” I asked Dahlia, resting my wrist on the wheel.
She stared inland with a sense of mild disgust. “I have. The men are easy prey. Full of drink and disease, but easy.”
I chuckled at the casual tone of her words. Morbid as they were, they held truth.
“Aye, it’s a rotten place. We won’t run into authorities there.”
She swept her eyes back toward me. “I’m hungry. So is Meridan. We need more meat than your cook can provide.”
Those words were nothing coming from the mouth of a human.
From Dahlia, they were tinged in darkness and malice.
She’d been building an appetite for some time and there was no better place to ease that craving than an island full of miscreants.
I didn’t give a damn who she sank her teeth into there. There wasn’t a good soul in Thorpes.
“If you can be subtle about it,” I sighed. “We’re trying not to attract attention, remember?”
She nodded once and returned her gaze to the nearing shore. “I will wait until night.”
Thorpes was as rugged and untamed as one would expect and it was crowded with more ships than I’d ever seen at one port.
We anchored the Rose off the coast and rowed in, keeping only a few crew members aboard until we got our affairs in order.
Already, I could hear music coming from the bars and the rowdy voices of half-drunk sailors flooding the shore.
Dahlia accompanied us until we reached the docks and then disappeared into the madness like a panther prowling the shadows.
“Meet in the square,” I said after her, confident she heard me when she threw me a wicked little smirk.
I took a deep breath, ignoring the stench of the overcrowded streets, and half-glanced back at my men.
“Mullins and Gus, you’re with me. The rest of you, restock the ship with whatever we need and don’t get into trouble.”
My men dispersed and, not wanting to spend much time in the open, I headed into the fray with Mullins and Gus close in tow.
The docks were a mess of old ropes and ruined fishing nets that hadn’t been used in years.
The wood was falling apart and even the posts where bronze bells were hanging were weather-worn and in disarray.
Deeper in, the taverns and inns were overflowing with drunkards and criminals as if some large celebration was taking place.
I rested my hand on my cutlass as we roamed the streets.
I entered the first inn I saw and raised a brow at the man and woman stumbling out the doors right after us.
At the front desk was a man wearing fancy attire that was holy and stained like it hadn’t been washed in a decade.
“How many rooms?” he grumbled, rubbing the underside of his crooked nose with his wrist.
“We’ll wait on that,” I said, leaning on the counter. “Where might I find a good maker of sails, mate?”
“Sails? Well, there’s only one in town. Joel Buckner. He’s just on the corner past the square.”
Nodding, I turned to head out again when the clerk called after me, “I’d rent rooms now, travelers. There won’t be any left soon.”
“What’s going on here?” Gus asked. “Looks like a stampede is rolling through town.”
“Ahh, pirates from all over are merry over a treasure ship that got beached in the last storm. It’s good for us.
They're spending their gold on drinks and whores, but best not to stick around long. Once they run dry, they’ll be killin’ each other for whatever’s left.
The other half will be scared to leave,” the clerk added.
“Why’s that?”
“Because the ship was beached in a storm. It wasn’t beached because of it.
Rumor is the crew was slaughtered. And not by pistols and cannon fire if you know what I mean.
This place usually sees men come and go day by day.
These days, seems people are just coming and not going.
Fishermen and pirates alike are afraid of the water.
Awful beasts are haunting the tides now if you haven’t heard.
Not just sirens. Something else.” He laughed, adjusting his frayed cravat.
“Reminds me why I run an inn and not a trade ship. Only way fishermen will go out these days is if buyers are paying triple for their haul. Only problem is they’re payin’ triple to hunters to keep the water safe. No one’s got money.”
Sighing, I returned to the clerk, reaching into my coat pocket to pull out a few coins. “May as well secure lodging, then. We’ll take three of the best rooms you have left.”
The clerk looked at my coins and blinked a couple times at how many I’d placed on the countertop.
After swiping them into his hand, he snapped his fingers at a teenage boy behind him.
“You heard ‘im. Three of the best rooms.” The boy nodded and rushed up the stairs to the second floor. “They’ll be ready for you soon, sir,” the clerk smiled, showing off a row of browned teeth.
I glanced at Gus with a shrug. “Let’s go see this Joel Buckner, then, shall we?”