A Pirate's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 21 - "Your father was an admirable man."

The ship cut through the water with a seamless grace, riding the ocean's current. The sails were furled and the masts jutted up to the sky like sentinels surveying their domain. Clouds were drawn across the sky, hiding away the constellation. The ship lay silent, the men taken to their beds. Isla stood at the helm, where she had been since they had left. She felt fatigue setting in, but ignored it.

From below, Hawk emerged, stretching the sleep from his muscles. He climbed the stairs and stopped beside Isla. For a long while they remained in the quiet, breathing in the small bit of freedom they were given. But with that feeling was the truth that their lives were still not fully their own.

"Do you think we can do it?" she asked, the words barely making a dent in the stillness.

When Hawk didn't reply right away, she looked at him. In his eyes, she saw the hope that he held to, but also severity. They both knew the situation they were pinned into. He didn't answer and Isla knew why, he would not offer her false hope.

"You should get some rest," he said.

She backed away, letting him take the wheel.

"We'll ride this as far as we can to Oxley," she said.

She descend the stairs but didn't head towards her cabin, instead she crossed the ship to the front. Across her shoulders was draped her father's coat. It was not for warmth but for comfort, helping her stay focused on what lay ahead. She rested her arms on the railing and closed her eyes. The rush of the wind caressed her skin, the touch softer than a lover's.

"Come here, Little Wander," Zev said.

Isla raised her still stubby four-year-old arms up towards her father. Grinning, he grabbed hold and swung her once, eliciting a shriek of laughter from her, before hoisting her on to his shoulders. As he held onto her ankles, Isla took fists full of his hair into her chubby hands. The ship was pulled along in the ocean's hidden pathways, the breeze gaining in strength.

"You feel that?" he asked.

Isla's hair was turned wild, whipping around her head.

"That is the feel of our history, of the secrets passed down through our family," he said.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Isla opened her eyes, clearing away the memory of her father. The shimmering sea raced out before her, strands of indigo, silver, and midnight blue all interlocked. As her unknown companion neared, Isla made no sign of noticing.

"May I join you?" Raif asked.

Isla was uncertain whether she wanted his company or not and so said nothing, letting the silence be ambiguous. Taking it as an invitation, Raif leaned against the railing, keeping a gap between them.

He had traded his new clothes for his old, leaving his sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. As the ship rocked, the wind's fingers combed through his hair, rustling the shortened ends. When he said nothing, Isla felt the question inside her mounting until it finally escaped on a breath.

"Why?"

Raif looked at her, raising his eyebrows, prompting her for more. Isla couldn't meet his gaze, aware that even wanting to know was a weakness. Still, she needed to know.

"Why did you not turn me in to Lord Sutherland?" Raif opened his mouth but she went on. "It was not because of Sparrow. Seeing the way you handled everything making a deal for Sparrow's freedom would have been of little difficulty. Why then did you not do what you've wanted to do since I first took you?"

Raif contemplated his laced fingers, staring at his palms, disgesting her questions. Finally, he raised his head but didn't look at her, instead gazed out on the edge of the horizon.