Chapter 3: The Red Maiden
The robbery goes without a hitch. That guy who crashed into me after getting off the ship was sent to the brig for storage, his pockets emptied. Though there wasn’t much in them to begin with.
My crew and I walk back to the ship now, bags of gold and silver slung over our shoulders, our heads held high. The people in the street don’t pay too much attention to us, just as always, and just as always it’s very useful in our escape. I lead the group, a hand in my pocket, my eyes closed to feel the warm sun on my face. I don’t have a care in the world. With Will walking next to me, life is good. I still have my ultimate goal of course, but for now I am content.
We are nearing the ship now, greeted by cheering from the skeleton crew we left behind to maintain the ship and our prisoners. I’m not one to take prisoners, but we don’t treat them poorly. They are merely there until they decide to join our ship, which they almost always do. In some cases they’ll choose to leave, and they are able to when we reach a port to dock at. Occasionally I’ll send a crew member down if they become too rowdy during dinner or the rare cases of insubordination, which I stomp out the merest signs of. My boys and gals can have their fun, but I will not tolerate disobedience.
I climb the ramp to join my ship. A skeleton crew member takes my sack of gold to bring down to the treasury, and my other crew members follow, also carrying loot. I start toward my office, assuming that Will will follow.
“Now then Will,” I start, without looking back and taking my feathered hat off as we come into my cabin. “What of that boy who crashed into me? what do you think?”
“I don’t know ma’am. you’re the captain.”
I chuckle. It’s still funny that to me that my best friend still insists on calling me ‘captain’ or ‘ma’am’.
“You know you don’t have to call me that in private, Will.”
“Right, I’m sorry ma’-uh… Cass.”
“There you go. Now, I’m going to go interrogate our… guest.”
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I’m sitting in the boy’s cell, the one who ran into me earlier today. There’s a decent amount of light coming in from a high window. I’m sitting the bench by the wall, across from the boy. He’s sleeping on the dirty cot. It’s attached to the wall with rusty chains and hinges so it can be put away during the day. He’s lying on his side, facing me. A peaceful look on his face. He looks about my age, maybe a bit younger (although looks can be deceiving), and is wearing what looks like a royal uniform. He’s quite handsome, actually. The crew didn’t rough him up too much from the looks of it. They told me that not ten seconds after they got him on the ship, royal guards came around asking for a boy matching his description. The crew shrugged them off, aware that they couldn’t care less about us, and were obviously not paying much attention. We protect people from ‘Lord Emperor’ Ravolox and other dangers. We plunder, sure, but we never take more than we need. And we save the rest for those who need it more than the banks.
The boy’s eyes flutter open, a little red and watery. He’d been crying before he slept. He doesn’t register me in the room immediately, and once he does, he jerks awake, sitting up on the edge of his bed.
He regards me suspiciously, with a hint of surprise. “…Hi?”
“Yes. Hello indeed. Well, boy, you nearly killed us both earlier. Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean you get a pass”
He’s taken aback by my forwardness. “Uh… Sorry, it’s been a…” he takes a deep breath, widening his eyes and continues. “It’s been a…weird day. Where am I?”
“I’ll be asking the questions.” I hold back a grin. I’ve always wanted to say that. “You aren’t exactly in a position to be asking anything. So tell me boy, what happened?”
He doesn’t answer, but instead looks me up and down, sizing me up.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you, unless you pose a threat to me or my crew.”
He looks a little more reassured. “I’m one of - used to be one of - Ravolox’s pupils. And then he kicked me out… I mean. I was with him for 7 chrons! And he just…” he trails off, making a gesture with his hands, a look mixed with confused, scared, angry, and sad.
I’m not really sure if (and if so, how) I’m supposed to comfort him, so I ask, “Well, are you for or against Ravolox?”
“…I …I’m not sure. But I think I …I think I hate him.” He says, half to himself.
“Welp! That’s good enough for me. Welcome to the crew!” I get up and walk over to him. “My name’s Cass. I’m the captain, and you will call me as such until we get to know each other better.”
He tries to give me a handshake, but I put my hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye. “We’ll figure out something better for you to wear than that gross shit, and somewhere to earn your food. Now, what’s your name, Handsome?”
He looks startled at my compliment. He then looks at my hand as he thinks (obviously uncomfortable with the contact, though not acting on it), then replies, “Elyas.” He doesn’t look at me, but rather at the floor. “Elyas Twain.”
“Alright Elyas, let’s get you out of this cell and to a proper room. Welcome to the crew!”