The muses have been kind to me this week, mates. So, as an early 4th of July present (or just a general present for those of you out of the US), here is...
What If's
Do or die.
’That’s what it should have come down to,’ Kat thought bitterly. She stood at the wheel of her ship, keeping it steady while she reflected.
They had lost ten members of the crew at Kingshead. Whether they were dead or merely jailed and awaiting a rigged trial, she couldn’t possibly know. Of all those that had been left behind, emerald eyes always came to her mind first, but of course that wasn’t all. Faces of those crewmembers who had fought by her side in Tortuga or risked their lives climbing the rigging swam through her mind, but also the friends she had laughed with in candlelight as they drank rum and played poker below decks.
Kat suddenly started, believing a flash of green hair had appeared emerging from the galley, but it was only Angel as she sullenly began scrubbing the decks. She sighed at the tricks her mind was playing. The last thing she wanted was a reminder that Luckie, of all the people, was gone as well.
Morale on the ship had been low in the days since Kingshead, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. Angel seemed especially downhearted, considering Luckie had taken on the role of a mother figure for her. The crew seemed to walk around in a daze, some of them at times turning to ask for help from a colleague, only to remember that they no longer numbered 32. Crewmembers would pass by her, and she would feel the heat from their glares, knowing that they blamed her for this damage. She knew they had every right to.
Contact between her and her brother had been minimal the past few days as well. She understood and appreciated why he had dragged her out of the fort, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she was happy with him about it. He, thankfully, had noticed it and had been avoiding her as well. Sarah, though, was caught between the two siblings in the worst of ways. She had tried to talk to Kat the day after they had escaped Kingshead, but that had only culminated in a yelling match.
“He was only doing what was best for you, Katherine!” she had pleaded, but Kat had refused to give in.
“What would have been best was if I had helped defend my crew!” Kat yelled back. “You know the tradition of a captain going down with his ship, but what about his crew? Hang the Code, those men and women have been with me through every insane endeavor I have put my mind to!” She had slammed her hand down on her desk at this point, forgetting about the P burned into her arm. It sent a jolt through her, and she hissed in pain.
“Yes, because you’re supposed to fight with a small dagger and a freshly injured arm,” Sarah replied, her voice laced with thick sarcasm. “Would you just stop?”
“No I will not!” Kat thundered. “I left him behind!”
The statement made them both pause. “Them,” Kat had then corrected quietly. “I left them behind.”
“That’s not what you said.”
Kat was silent. Then, a simple “I know” was uttered from her lips. “I left him behind,” she whispered. “After Solomon, I promised him that I would never do that, but I did. I did, just as I abandoned Solomon once before.” Her injured arm came up to rest on her chest, her hand settling over her heart. “But it hurts so much more this time.”
A single tear formed and ran a river down her cheek. This, to Sarah, was more terrifying than if Kat had burst into screams of fury and pain. “Lawrence Mcrage has been with me since the very beginning. He saved me from death in an unforgiving ocean all those years ago, and he saved my life again when he threw a knife into Randolph’s leg, only this time, he may have traded his own. After so much, Sarah…” She sighed and placed a hand to her closed eyes, seeing fire and emeralds. “After so much, I have continuously denied the one thing we both desired most in this world. He saw the danger of Kingshead when I refused to, and somehow I think he knew that he wouldn’t come out of there as expected. He knew, and he tried to talk to me, but I denied him once more. What if that was the last time?
“What if I never tell him I love him?”
Kat had sunken into her desk chair, and Sarah came to stand in front of her. “Life wasn’t made dwelling on what if’s, Kat.” She took her sister under the chin and tilted her face up. “You will be able to say those words, and I am going to help you be able to do that. Perhaps you have burned all of your bridges in the Royal Navy, but I doubt many words have spread about my turn to piracy.” She walked over to the map of the Caribbean Kat kept on her wall and pointed to the island in the center. “I think I know where we need to go.”
So now, two days later and three days after Kingshead, Kat manned her ship for Port Royal. She trusted her sister’s plan, just as she trusted that the system of the law on Kingshead was not much different from anywhere else, and just as she trusted Randolph would be playing chess with her as he used to in their parlor; waiting for her move so he could pull the single piece right out from under her that would completely destroy her game.
Her arm buzzed, and she shook the sleeve of her shirt back to reveal the still scalding P. Randolph shouldn’t have burned it onto her. It was only proof that she had more to fight for. She hissed as the sleeve fell back over it.
And somewhere else, miles away in a jail cell, Lawrence Mcrage screamed as the same symbol was burned into him.
“And I was under the impression that pirates were far more substantial.” The man dressed in the black and gold of an EITC uniform stood just in front of Lawrence while two more spread his arms out to his sides. His shirt had been stripped from his body, leaving his bruised chest exposed, along with the new, bright red P. “I suppose not.”
Lawrence lifted his head, his usually sparkling green eyes glazed over with something much more sinister. His breath was heavy as he spoke. “What I wouldn’t give to see you in this same position screaming louder and writhing on this ground at the slightest touch of that poker.”
The man grinned toothily, exposing the yellow and rotten pieces. “But pirates don’t get their wishes granted. Not in the eyes of the law or the God who will condemn you to Hell.”
Lawrence snorted wearily. “You call this lawful or moral? Torture and branding me like I’m an animal?” He looked the soldier solidly in the eye. “In that case, I’ll enjoy seeing you burn right next to me.”
The small room echoed with the backhanded slap Lawrence was given across the face. “How dare you accuse me of such things!”
“That will be enough, Mr. Remington,” a voice spoke from the jail’s stairway. A soft clunk of a crutch was heard as its source came closer. Around the corner entered Randolph, a crutch under one arm and two soldiers of his own behind him. “I’ll be taking it from here.”
Remington’s back straightened stiffly. “Very well, Mr. Randolph.” He motioned to the ones holding Lawrence back, and he was abruptly dropped to the floor. The new scarring mark on his chest burned as it hit the dirt and he grimaced while he pushed himself off the floor to greet Randolph. He looked coldly up at the man that surrounded him, finding Remington glaring back. “Feel free to summon me if you need… assistance with him, sir,” he said. He stared at Lawrence threateningly for a moment longer, walking up the dark stairs and out of the jail.
Randolph glanced at the slam of the door before turning back to Lawrence. “So you’re the little mongrel who stabbed me in the leg,” he sneered. “You should work on that aim.”
Lawrence grinned. “Who said my aim was off?” He stood, and Randolph’s guards stiffened, but the officer stood still as a rock. “If I had aimed anywhere else, I could have killed you. That honor is saved for Kat.”
He suddenly felt himself shoved backwards by a dull point into his stomach. His back slammed into the wall and he slumped down to the floor. He gingerly rubbed his new bruise as Randolph clunked forward towards him.
“If you think that my leech of a wife is going to get anywhere near me, that’s where you’d be wrong,” he growled in Lawrence’s face.
“Denial is unbecoming of you, officer. If you don’t recall, she’s not your wife anymore,” he taunted back. Randolph’s crutch came up and smacked him across the head, the wood roughly connecting with his skull. Lawrence was forced to the floor again, this time with stars forming in front of his eyes. He heard Randolph as if through a well.
“She’s quite the fighter, I’ll give her that. Gave me quite the burn.” He turned the side of his face towards Lawrence and lightly stroked the bright pink scaled breaking his beard. “I don’t think I would have ever expected that from her all those years ago. And to see her brother and sister as well… Perhaps I would have expected that from Charles, but never Sarah.” He shrugged. “No matter. They’ll all be on the noose soon enough.”
The image rushed into his mind of Kat’s buckled boots dangling a foot off the ground, her eyes staring out at the world lifelessly while a rope was wrapped around her neck. His breathing sped up and slowly, his fists and teeth begun to clench.
“She was always rather whiny and sniveling. It will be good to have that gone from this world.”
Lawrence lurched at Randolph’s feet, too quick for the redcoats to react. With his weight taken from his good leg, he slammed onto the ground, and Lawrence immediately grabbed him by the neck. “Whatever love she gave you was more than you will ever deserve,” he growled, his hot breath coating Randolph’s face.
The points of two swords touched Lawrence’s back. “Touchy, aren’t we?” Randolph said as Lawrence slowly rose off him. “Quite the temper you’ve got there.” He spoke the words contemplatively while one of his men assisted him to his feet and the other kept his sword trained on the highly agitated Lawrence.
“You don’t know the half of it,” he grumbled venomously.
“We could utilize that…” Randolph muttered, as if to himself. Lawrence’s scowl only deepened.
“What, are you offering me a position in the Navy?” he scoffed. “I’m a pirate, not a member of an ever corrupt English society.”
Randolph smiled grotesquely. “You know, Mr. Remington is quite skilled in the art of torture. I believe it stems from his deep delight of it.”
Lawrence’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll assume I should take that as a threat.”
“For a pirate you’re quite…” Randolph let his finger trail along the hilt of the blade in his belt, “sharp, Mr. Lawrence.”
“My name is Mcrage,” he snapped so viciously that the soldiers raised their swords to his chest again.
But Randolph only chuckled softly. “I had been wondering about that. Well,” he turned towards the door as if making the motions to leave. “Since you have denied me once, I doubt you’ll change your answer anytime soon.” He began walking up the stairs and called backwards, “I suppose I’ll just have to send Remington in again while we wait for Katherine!” One of the departing soldiers took the lone torch on the wall and the door slammed behind him, leaving Lawrence and the jail to descend into darkness.
I've gotten lucky the past two weeks or so. Not quite sure when the next chapter will be out, so I'm sorry for that. I'll try and keep the muse locked in her cage.
Thank you for the reviews! Even the ones that tell me I'm slow posting warm my heart.
Happy Fourth of July! Thanks for Reading!
-Kat Crestshot