Pirates Again

Katerina stayed huddled in her barrel, waiting for someone to come and drag her out. She sat there for what must have been two or three hours, her shoulders tensed so hard they started to hurt. But she didn’t hear any footsteps approaching, and no one opened the barrel again. She huffed out a breath and let her shoulders relax a little. She slowly cracked open the lid of the barrel, peeking out cautiously. The hold was empty. As long as she stayed a secret for a full day or so, it should be fine. It would be too late for the crew to turn back to Stagfort; so even if they discovered her, Captain Engle would have to take her on to Westborough. She’d sneak away once she was there and find someone to take her to Alanada.

She stayed where she was for a while longer, still expecting someone to come for her. The man who’d opened the barrel earlier had obviously seen her; he had looked more surprised than she was. She had no idea how long she’d been in this barrel, but her muscles were all starting to knot and her legs were asleep. She must’ve been crouched there nearly all day by now. It still took her another hour before she stood up stiffly. She rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms above her head, trying to work the kinks out of her body. She tried to stuff her stubborn curls back under her cap, which was struggling to keep all the hair contained.

Katerina snacked on another apple as she walked a few laps around the cargo hold until the pins and needles sensation faded in her legs. Eventually exhaustion overtook her nerves about the man who’d seen her ratting her out, and she climbed back into her barrel and fell asleep. She had fitful dreams and must have jerked in her sleep, because she was jolted abruptly awake when the barrel tipped precariously and spilled her out onto the floor. She sat up with a gasp, apples rolling around her. She rubbed her elbow, which she’d banged on the floor when she fell. She skinned to her feet, wincing at how cramped her muscles felt again, and started trying to gather all the apples she’d spilled.

Footsteps finally sounded on the stairs and Katerina nearly jumped out of her skin. There were still a few apples rolling around on the floor she hadn’t picked up yet. She dumped the ones in her arms into the barrel and then tried to scramble behind a pile of crates to hide from whoever was thundering down the stairs. It was a different man this time; still someone she didn’t recognize. She had met some members of Engle’s crew before, but perhaps he’d hired on some new people recently. The man noticed the askew lid on the barrel and the apples scattered on the floor and his eyes narrowed. He walked further into the hold, eyes scanning the room as he picked up the apples.

Katerina had known full well that the odds were good she’d be discovered before the ship made port, and she didn’t actually have anything to fear from Captain Engle besides perhaps a long suffering sigh and a longer lecture. But she didn’t know this man and something about him put her on edge. He had cold eyes. She didn’t even breathe as she crouched behind the crates, willing him to go away. She thought for a moment that he was going to do just that, but then in perhaps the stupidest turn of events in history, she sneezed. The man lunged for the crates she was hiding behind and she fell back with a yelp.

“So, a little mouse snuck aboard,” the man said, roughly jerking her to her feet and holding her wrist in a vice grip.

“You don’t need to break my arm,” Katerina told him. His lip curled.

“Captain Notley will be very interested to know there’s a dirty little stowaway on board.” He started dragging her toward the stairs.

“Captain who?” Katerina frowned. There was something vaguely familiar about that name, but she couldn’t place it. He was most definitely not the man who’d been captaining The Mystic for the last fifteen years. Had Engle retired and she didn’t hear about it?

“I can walk, you know,” she said irritably as the man continued to tow her along by the arm. Everyone on deck stopped what they were doing to gape as the man stomped along, nearly yanking her arm out of the socket. He snapped at another man to fetch the captain.

“Now,” he growled when the man just stood there for a moment. Katerina tried to pull her arm free and his grip just tightened. Her hand was going numb. She tried to keep her head tilted slightly down to somewhat hide her face, but she was getting really tired of being jerked around like an unruly dog.

“Let go, you brute.” She kicked the man in the shin, which seemed to stun him for a moment. Then his gaze darkened.

“Why, you little-“

“Mr. Taylor.” A blond man emerged on deck, looking annoyed; but then he raised his eyebrows slightly. “What’s going on?”

“I found a stowaway,” Mr. Taylor said gruffly. He shoved her forward.

“So you have.” The blond man; this must be the mysterious Captain Notley; stepped forward, then he forced her chin up. “Hmm.” He plucked the cap off her head, and her curls fell free in a tousled wave.

“Well, well. A very interesting find, indeed,” the Captain drawled. “And just what are you doing here, little lass?”

“I…needed to get to Westborough but couldn’t afford a passenger ship,” she lied. She tried not to fidget as he stared at her, though she rubbed her sore wrist now that Mr. Taylor had released her.

“Do you have a name to go with that cute little face?”

“Katerina,” she said slowly.

“Katerina,” he repeated. He arched an eyebrow, as if waiting for her last name. She didn’t offer it.

“What happened to Captain Engle?” she asked, instead.

“What concern is it of yours?”

“He’s been captaining this ship for years.”

“Then he was due for a change, wasn’t he? What business do you have in Westborough that’s so pressing you’d risk stowing away?”

“What concern is it of yours?” she asked, echoing his earlier question. He smirked.

“Well you did stow away on my ship, I’d say that makes it a little bit my concern, doesn’t it?”

She pressed her lips together, not eager to tell this man anything about herself.

“Suit yourself, Katerina. If you don’t wish to tell me your business then fine, it makes no difference. But you’ve wasted your time, I’m afraid, as we’re not going to Westborough.”

“Of course you are,” Katerina said, startled. “This ship always-“

“New management, new rules.”

Panic flared her chest and she hoped it didn’t show. “Well…we’re heading south, aren’t we?” she blurted, glancing around to try and get her bearings. “So you could drop me in Alanada.”

That earned her another raised eyebrow. “You have an incredible abundance of nerve, pet, to stow away on my ship and then make demands about where we take you.”

“Should I throw her overboard and be done with it, Sir?” Mr. Taylor asked. Katerina was affronted.

“I don’t think there’s any need for that, Mr. Taylor. It would be rather a waste.” He took a step closer to her and Katerina instinctively took a step back. He made her nervous; she wished she could remember why his name sounded familiar. This whole situation was very strange.

“But you are a trespasser,” Notley told her. “So, I will be the one deciding where and when to get rid of you. And until I make that decision, I suggest you either find a way to make yourself useful or stay out of everyone’s way. Or I’ll let Mr. Taylor chain you up below decks, like I’m sure he’s itching to do.”

“We should really just do that now,” Mr. Taylor muttered, shooting her a dark look. Katerina glared back at him. She hoped his shin hurt from where she’d kicked it. Captain Notley turned away, not giving her any more chance to say anything.

“Find somewhere out of the way to keep our guest, Mr. Taylor, and I trust there will be no further interruptions today.”