Chapter 5 #3
“What of the Sweet Lettie’s new name?” Yves asked when Logan returned.
It was traditional throughout the Islands to rename a ship when she passed into new hands, especially if those new hands belonged to a pirate.
It left the old identity of the vessel behind and started anew.
Not that the Sweet Lettie needed a fresh start, she was so newly built her wood was practically still green.
John thought for a moment.
“Sweet Mercy.”
Yves sat forward, dark eyes flashing. “Oh? Do you intend to be merciful? Perhaps I’ve misjudged you.”
John smiled wickedly. “What could be less merciful than false hope?”
Yves grinned back, just as wicked. “I like it.”
Gods, maybe it was a mistake to give a ship to John. He was almost as sadistic as Yves, and had a thing for fire. Yves sat back, satisfied with this answer, just as a knock sounded on the door.
“Enter,” John called.
Gael came in, honey brown skin streaked with sweat from moving crates in the sun, and closed the door behind him. “You called, Captains?” John’s back straightened a little at being called captain again.
Not one to mince words, John said, “I need a first mate I can trust, if half my crew is going to be these press-ganged newbies. What do you say?”
Gael blinked at him. “You want my recommendation?”
Logan chuckled, and Rowan smiled to himself.
“No, Gael. I want you for the job.”
“Oh, I…” It was clear this possibility had not occurred to Gael. A small smile crept across his lips, quickly stifled. “I won’t leave Fox behind.”
“He’s welcome as well,” John said.
Gael nodded, then looked at Rowan. “I’d need my captain’s permission.”
“You have it,” Rowan answered. “Sad as I’d be to lose you.”
“I’d like a day to think and discuss with Fox, if I could,” Gael said.
“Of course,” John said.
“Best get back to your duties now,” Rowan said. Selfish as it may be, he hoped Fox would refuse to leave the Siren Song. This was all moving too fast for Rowan’s liking, his control over his own crew spiraling under Yves’s whims. Gael nodded and left, a slight spring in his step.
“Well if that concludes our business.” Yves made to stand, but Rowan stopped him with a hand on his arm. He bit his lip as the movement jostled the plug.
“Not so fast.”
Yves resettled into his seat. “What is it?”
“Only the small matter of appointing a new first mate for you.”
Yves’s gaze sharpened playfully. “Oh? You think I can’t run the Kraken on my own?”
Now he was just being obstinate. Of course he couldn’t run an entire warship full of pirates on his own. No one could run a ship effectively without a second-in-command for long. Yves needed a human buffer between him and the crew, but Rowan couldn’t exactly say that in front of Logan and John.
“You need someone practical to temper your baser instincts. You don’t always see what’s in front of you.”
“I see everything,” Yves scoffed.
“Really? How long did it take you to realize you were in love with me?” If Yves could air their business in front of others, so could Rowan.
Yves quirked an eyebrow. “Quicker than you, darling.”
True enough. He’d used a bad example.
“Enough of this weird flirting,” John cut in. “I recommend Doe Adair for the role.”
Rowan had heard the name before but it took him a moment to place it.
A Laslandish woman who was married to Illusion’s blacksmith.
She and her wife had twins who often chased the cats around the village and snuck treats to Nephele.
They’d been Gael and Fox’s little shadows for weeks over the winter when one of the cats in the main house birthed kittens in their room.
Laslandish people had an affinity for naming certain children after animals.
Doe and Fox were two prime examples. It was an old traditional way that many still clung to.
The Laslandish druids still roamed the island, presiding over births and deaths with their gnarled wooden staves.
And every so often they would declare a newborn had the ‘spirit of mischief.’ Rowan had forgotten the proper name for it, but it was an old trickster god boiled down to myth and this last superstition.
This ungendered god had three forms. Land, sky, and sea.
When a child was declared to embody one, their parents named them after a creature from another in an attempt to trick the trickster, and hide the child from its influence.
When Rowan had first asked Fox about his name, Fox had told a story of himself as a wee babe of just a few weeks old.
He’d looked up with his startling green eyes into the face of the visiting druid, smiled, and farted a fart so ghastly they all had to vacate the cottage.
The druid had declared him for the sky. He’d ended up with the name Fox.
Now, Yves tilted his head questioningly. “Why Doe?”
“She’s practical, smart, and loyal. She’s been with you since the beginning, and knows your eccentricities,” John said.
Rowan hadn’t known that. He’d thought John the longest serving crew member of the Kraken. Yves looked at Rowan, who raised his eyebrows in silent challenge.
“Fine,” Yves sighed. “Doe will be my new first mate.”