The WindFlyer

Chapter 5

Captain's PoV

"Open the rum! Celebrate a hard won trove!" I yell to my crew as the smoking remains of the merchant ship KingsPrice finally disappears on the backward horizon. I did not miss the flag she flew either, Alture. Home of the prince in my brig. I am sure I killed him to know that his people were dying at my hands. I wish I could say I felt pity for him, but I am a pirate. This is what I do. I have killed far too many to feel pity for one ship.

My crew breaks out the finest rum we have aboard the ship. They cheer and begin celebrations that will last well into the night and I smile at them. My crew, my family. I yell for my first mate to drop the anchor for the night. I do not wish to remain at the wheel all night. The sun is dipping low in the sky when the music breaks out. I laugh lowly to myself at the bawdy tunes they sing. They clap and dance on the main deck in a drunken bliss. Once in a while, I let us indulge. Today was a good raid.

I bring myself into the antichambre of the captain's quarters, the same room that holds my dining table, and begin taking stock of the treasures taken today. Once we reach land I will divide it among the crew as their pay. While my crew stay with me out of loyalty, I still pay them handsomely for their work. I refuse to have it any other way despite some of the protests that they work for the joy of it. While I do not doubt that is part of it, i know another part must be fear. I have not been named the cruel and black-hearted for nothing.

There are various spices we retrieved, we must have caught the ship a day or two out of port, the spices have yet to be exchanged for others. A chest of cloth finely spun is also among the spoils. Various colors and finely crafted embroidery. I begin cataloging everything here and the cost of what we've gained. Several bags of grain and cured meats. Personally, I've never cared for the flavors of Alture, but I do know value when I come across it. Years of pirating has taught me quite a few things, one of them is that everything has a price. Just because I do not fancy something does not make it worthless. And food is food, you take what you can get when you're at sea.

I take in the spices again; I have half a mind to ask the chef to cook something from Alture, but I feel that might just pour salt into the Princes wound. I may not know what to do with him, I may be a cold blooded killer, and I may be cruel. But I do not want to hurt anyone for the joy of it. I do not aim to harm those who have done nothing to earn it. I am sure the prince has been raised in the most lavish home while his subjects have surely suffered hard times. Even then, I do not want to cause him unjust pain. I am a pirate, true, but even pirates have some morals.

I sigh as I scan over the numbers again, the merchant would have made a healthy profit if he reached port. An unlucky day for him indeed and while I do not like to hurt for the joy of it, I also do what I must out of necessity. I begin pushing the sacks and chests to the side of the room, making space for dinner.

I place the list of numbers in my records on my desk in my room. I walk over to a small wash basin and splash cool water on my face, washing away the days dirt. I look into my small mirror and grimace slightly. It's been a long while since I've been on solid ground and had a proper bath. While the sea hold my heart, my brain knows that the land provides certain aspects that are always needed.

I grab a towel and dry my face and hands. I walk back into my dining room to see the prince already seated. I pause slightly, noticing that he does not have a plate in front of him. I sigh to myself princling has probably always been waited on hand and foot. I fill him a plate nonetheless and set it down at his place before sitting in my own chair. Just like the night before, he refuses to eat anything until I have taken a bite of the food myself. I roll my eyes and ignore him while I eat. I told him he could dine with me, I never said he had to speak to me.

The only sound in the room is the scrape of forks on plates for a while, mixed with the muffled sounds of my celebrating crew. The princes eyes look to be tinted red slightly... as if he was grieving. Likely, he is grieving his own life. Selfish royal. I hear him cough slightly before he speaks and I quirk my eyebrow at him.

"What..." he croaks, "What did you do? With the merchant?" I swallow my food fully before responding.

"We set him on his way latched to a raft," I say.

"And... why? I-I mean, your ship is known for killing all you meet. Why break that? Why let this one man live?" I smile slightly to myself and nearly laugh, but that would be uncalled for.

"Tales of my cruelty have reached your ears before meeting me, yes?" He nods at me. "How do you suppose tales can spread of no one lives to tell them?" I say smirking only slightly. I watch as knowledge dawns in the princes eyes and his mouth forms a small 'o' shape. "Should he survive, he will have one hell of a tale to spread."

The prince nods again before we lapse into silence once more. After some time he deigns to speak again. "Your ship, she's finely crafted. She looks to have been made by a master ship builder." The statement is posed more like a question.

"Aye, she was," my only response.

"How did you come by her, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I had her made for me." He raises his eyebrows in surprise at the statement. I bark a short laugh at the face.

"What master would build a ship for a pirate?" He muses more to himself than to me, but I choose to answer anyway.

"Well, none. I was not a pirate when I had her built," I say as I lean back in my chair and rest my hands on my stomach.