A Pirate's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2 - "A secret that makes us uncatchable."

Light burned the room, the full force of the rising sun hitting the maple walls, turning the dark wood auburn. The carpet was plush under Isla's boots as she walked to the door. Behind her Hawk grunted and hoisted the nobleman over his shoulders.

His head lolled to the side and glancing back, Isla caught the hint of a scar down the side of his neck. Intrigue stirred inside her. From the way this man traveled she couldn't imagine him facing any true danger. He was from the family Sayers, they owned half the ports from Varron to Loria.

Banishing her curiosity, Isla led the way out of the room. The dim corridor was silent, the muted sound of fighting gone. When she stepped onto the deck she was welcomed by the sight of her men at work. They untangled hooks and tossed them to their ship, preparing to leave. Discarded around them where unconscious bodies of sailors.

Seeing Isla, the men stopped, focusing on her, some holding ropes, others sheathing swords. There was an intensity in their eyes that contradicted their calm postures. It spoke of the news they all waited to hear.

Among the group, there was not a sailor that was within ten years of Isla's age, but they all looked at her with an unwavering respect. It was a feeling she knew they passed down from her father to her. It was a burden that settled heavy on her shoulders, weighing in on every decision she made, every word she spoke, every thought she held. It was a weight that was not supposed to be hers.

Heath took a step forward. He was Hendrain, shorter than his fellow companions but all muscle, and carrying a staff that wielded more power than any sword.

"Captain Zev," he said, his voice sounding like it came from the center of the earth.

Her title was all the question he asked.

"We have what we came for," she said, sheathing her sword.

Words of hope crept into Isla's mind but she kept them trapped there. She would not speak before she knew that what she said was true. They had waited too long to be given false promises.

At that moment, Hawk walked out, Duke Sayers flung over one shoulder. Every eye turned to the unconscious form. Isla could see the chaos of questions swarming around them, but not a word was uttered. Heath nodded as if kidnapping was a common occurrence for them.

"Brockton," Isla said.

A dark-haired, chiseled Seau man pressed forward, his movements graceful and reserved.

"Disassemble the rudder chain," she said. As the man vanished, she looked to the remaining crew. "Back to the ship. Heath, assist Hawk with our cargo."

Leaving behind what riches the men or the cabins could hold, the men left. It was like a dozen pendulums swinging from one ship to the other. Isla remained on the deck, watching Heath and Hawk. Securing a rope around Duke Sayer's waist, they stepped onto the railing. Clutching their own lines, they held onto the unconscious man and crossed the divide.

Only when they had released their captive from his rope, did Isla let out a breath. What they had was worth more than they could find on the ship. To her, it was worth everything.

As she moved to the edge, Brockton appeared from below deck. His charcoal eyes met hers and he gave a nod in confirmation. They both retrieved lines and crossed to their ship. Isla landed on the deck, her boots tapping against the dark stained wood. Hawk looked to her, his eyes asking a silent question.

"The brig," she said. "And make sure he's locked up."

Nodding, Hawk left. The remaining sailors waited for their orders.