The Pirate Queen

Chapter 6

"You want me to do what?" Eric gasped. They were standing in the shadow of a bordered-up restaurant, a horse-cart beside them, and a trunk on the ground. Jora had woken him a little less than an hour ago, shoved some inconspicuous clothing at him, and told him to change before dragging him through shadowy back allies. The butler had been vague all week about his plans for getting Eric on the boat undetected, claiming the less he knew the better in the event they caught. So, Eric had no choice but to trust a person, Eric was starting to realize, he might not know so well.

Jora pointed to the open trunk in front of them. "I got myself a position on the ship, but not you. You, we sneak on. Get in, maneuver around the pots and spices, and we'll be fine."

"What's in the other trunks?" He gestured to the two other massive trunks on the cart locked with heavy padlocks no man could cut through.

"Weapons, clothes, other cooking equipment. I have to look like a chef, Eric. Now get in, we don't have time to argue." Jora gave Eric a gentle but firm push to the open trunk. On the way through town, Eric had explained he'd gotten a position on the ship as a chef, the only way he could safely get the two of them on board without getting shot or thrown off.

"At least put it on the cart first," Eric muttered. He didn't like being so cramped, but if he had to, he had to.

Together, they lifted the heavy chest back onto the cart where Eric climbed in, curling himself into the smallest ball he could amongst all the supplies Jora had managed to pack. Eric didn't want to know where he'd gotten all the equipment, or how Jora of all people had gotten a job on a pirate ship, but he didn't have the luxury of questioning it. It was the Dauntless or jail. Well, marriage, jail, but what was the difference? After what he saw in the War Room, there was no way he could stay behind now.

Jora grabbed the lid and gave Eric a cringey smile. "I'm sorry about this your highness, but I swear it's the only way. Now, try not to make a sound until I open the lid again."

Eric gave a small nod of acceptance and a smile. "See you on the other side."

The lid slammed closed and Eric heard the sound of a third paddock closing on the lid, locking him in. There was a small hole in the corner he could barely see out of, but at least it provided him with fresh air. Seconds after the lock closed, the wagon shuddered forward over the cobblestones and then the steady thumping of the wooden planks of the dock. He counted in his head, knowing the exact amount of time it would take to get to where the Dauntless was docked.

When the cart stopped, Eric didn't realize he was holding his breath until he heard deep, rough voices and then someone hauled him up and he was carried, then unceremoniously dropped sideways on the floor. He bit the edge of his shirt to keep from crying out as the pots jostled around him, surely causing bruises.

He heard the other two trunks drop, more muffled voices, and then nothing. No one came to righten the trunks. No one came to unlock him and let him out.

His feet were falling asleep and he tried rotating his ankles but it made too much noise so he stilled, squeezing his eyes shut. He wasn't claustrophobic. He'd been in tighter spaces before for longer stretches of time. He just needed to breathe, center himself, and pray that Jora would let him out soon.

Hours later and fading in and out of consciousness, Eric had no idea how long, the trunk was hauled upright and the lock removed. He blinked rapidly as the lid was lifted and he looked up, not into the amber brown eyes of his friend, but into the black marbles of another man entirely, with alarming sky blue hair.

"Well, what do we have here? A stowaway?" He grabbed Eric's arm, hauling him out into the middle of the galley kitchen, sunlight streaming in through the tiny windows. He tried to stand but his legs had fallen asleep long ago and he fell towards the floor but the man caught him, laughing all the while.