I’m to play the part of the harmless cabin boy. I climb the stairs, lying in wait just belowdecks, staying out of sight. By no means does this crew consist of the bravest bunch. If I did not order the surrender, perhaps they would have given up on their own. The men currently under my command had to be expecting the order. Cutlasses clatter to the wooden deck almost instantly. I can barely make out her cry through the sounds of fighting. Life these last few weeks would have been so much easier if I could have had my crew on this venture. I shouldn’t have allowed them to join me, but I needed their help keeping these worthless men in line. She volunteered to come, along with two other girls from my real crew. She’s a good gal, very bright, optimistic-and a good voice of reason, which I desperately needed during our voyage. Mandsy is one of only three I trust on this ship.

She nods before traveling through the trapdoor.ĭon’t get killed, I say again in my head. “And don’t get yourself killed!” I hiss after her. “Aye, Captain.” She ascends the rest of the steps leading to the deck. Then she adds abruptly, “More men have boarded the ship. “But maybe if I just killed a few of them…” I say more to myself. If we’re to succeed, you really shouldn’t be seen performing impressive feats with the sword.” “If we’re to survive this, you need to stay put.”

“I should be up there, shoving steel between ribs,” I say, “not hiding like some helpless whelp.” “Two more down, Captain,” Mandsy, my temporary first mate, says from where she peeks through the trapdoor. The ship rocks from the blasts of cannons.

Whether they tire and drown or get claimed by the sea life. They deserve whatever fate comes to them. Two more jumped overboard as soon as they saw the black flag of the Night Farer on the horizon.ĭeserters. Such precautions are necessary when one’s being invaded by pirates. And the smell! You’d think men did nothing but roll around in dead fish guts while smearing their own excrement on their sleeves. The clothing is awkward as it hangs loose in all the wrong places.

My sword is strapped tightly to the left side of my waist, a pistol undrawn on my right. My hair is bound on the top of my head, secured in a bun underneath a small sailor’s hat. The cotton shirt is too loose, the breeches too big, the boots too uncomfortable.

The daughter of the pirate king series