I Think, Therefore…

Despite centuries of allegations, the world’s cruelest mistress was never the sea. Was the sea at fault for the beasts who resided below her rhythmic waters? Was she to blame for those souls lost in her depths?  No, that title belonged to her sister, the wind, whose volatile temper left sailors stranded and boats overturned. Beside her was their brother, the moon, who spent an eternity dragging the sea along in his orbit. It was them, not the virtuous sea, who bore the guilt of what happened that tragic night.

“What happened?” Marin asked, leaning into her mother’s chest as the waves caressed the HMS Carlisle’s lacquered hull. 

“There was a boy about your age. He wanted so badly to see the world that he snuck onto his father’s boat just to catch a glimpse of the horizon. He stowed himself away in the boat’s belly, waiting to sail out far enough that his father wouldn’t turn back.”

Her mother straightened Marin’s twin braids and settled as best she could into the stiff mattress. 

”The boy waited and waited and waited. When he finally decided it was time, he tried to stand, only to find that a crate had slid over his trouser leg during the voyage. The box was too heavy to push off, and he had sat too compact to wriggle free. He called out for his father, but no one could hear him, not as the sky cried endless tears and the sea shook with screams of thunder.”

Marin swallowed as the rain outside their cabin seemed to grow louder. 

“He had already shouted his throat raw when the boat capsized. Water poured through the bulkhead, and the boy couldn’t escape. They found his remains the next morning, tangled up in a crescent of jagged rocks, just as the sun-kissed that horizon he was so desperate to see.” 

Marin plied herself off of her mother and sagged against the coarse wooden floor. “That was an awful story.”

“Maybe so, but there’s value to be found, even in something horrible.” She laughed at Marin’s doubtful stare. “If the boy had stayed where it was safe, he wouldn’t have died.”

She knew exactly what her mother was getting at, and it barbed at her nerves just as much as the first dozen times she had been told to stay below deck. “But he wanted to see the world.”

“And he could have when he was older.”

“But if his dad just let him take the trip, he wouldn’t have had to sneak on. Doesn’t that mean it’s his father’s fault?”

“Brats who shouldn’t even be on board have no room to complain,” a dreadfully familiar voice growled as their cabin door swung open. 

Marin glared at the first mate and his lackluster tray of salted meat and stale biscuits. 

“I’m not a brat.”

“No, you’re worse.” He glared. “You’re a woman.”

Her mother cleared her throat. “That’s quite enough, Sal.” 

Sal huffed, dropping the tray onto the bolted-down desk. “I respect you as the governor’s wife, Mrs. Matias, but you shouldn’t be on this voyage.”

“I respect you as a naval officer, Salanus, but you shouldn’t open your mouth around women.”

He pounded his fist on the desk. Marin watched with apathy as a slice of salami rolled off the tray and across the desk before settling into a pile of dust on the floor. 

“Women are bad luck!” Sal shouted. “There’s no way around it.”

“Yet plenty have traveled to new territories, just like us.”

“And faced horrid conditions! Haven’t you heard about the last ship to Arder? There were three women aboard and the boat disappeared mid-journey!”

“You want me to believe that wouldn’t have happened regardless of the women on board?”

Marin watched the conversation like it was one of the boxing matches her brother so loved. He had arrived at Ofter’s Point six months ago to help their father set up the governor’s estate. It was an honor to be gifted land by the king, an honor Barry resented until the day he made his own trip across the sea. Marin could picture him holed up in his cabin writing solemn love letters and limericks to each of his devout paramours. 

Unlike her brother, who left his ritzy school and a trail of broken hearts back in England, Marin was excited. There was an entire world outside her sheltered walls, though the boat’s enclosed belly wasn’t much of an improvement.

“Maybe the sea wouldn’t have pulled them down if they had obeyed her rules!” Oh. Sal was still yammering on. If there was anything he had going for him, it was the strength of his lungs.

“Come on, Marin. It seems our air down here has gone stale. Let’s find a fresher source.”

Marin giggled at the red-faced first mate as she and her mother left their chamber and climbed the stairs up to the deck.

“One lesson you must take to heart is that there will always be men who blame women for their failings, while never acknowledging the part we play in their successes.” Her mother leaned down to whisper in Marin’s ear. “Sal’s wife wouldn’t have come with him to Ofter even if he let her.” 

“What would—”

“Pirates!” A booming shout sounded from the crow’s nest. 

Her mother dragged Marin behind a row of barrels as the deck became a symphony of thundering boots, roaring shouts, and clattering swords. Her mother’s heartbeat was a tune all its own, a racing crescendo pressed against Marin’s back. 

“Why, if it isn’t His Majesty’s Royal Navy!” 

Marin peeked past the barrel as much as she was able. By the bow, a pirate held a sword to a crewman’s neck. “We hear this vessel is housing some important folks. I insist on an introduction.” He pressed the blade harder.

Marin’s mother spun her around so they were eye to eye. “Do not move, okay? Stay hidden.”

“But mum–”

“Mar.” She cupped Marin’s cheek with one hand and pulled off her locket with the other before slipping it over Marin’s head. “If the boy had stayed where it was safe…” 

The sigh that breached Marin’s lips felt anchor-heavy. “I’ll stay.”

“Good girl.” She kissed the top of Marin’s head and moved to step out into the moonlight.

Marin didn’t register moving, but in a breath, she had her mother’s wrist clasped tightly in her grasp. “Where are you going?!”

“I’m the highest ranking person on this ship, Mar.” 

“No!” Her voice shook as she tried to pull her mother closer. “Stay with me!”

“I would love nothing more, but this is my responsibility.” She kissed Marin’s hand before freeing herself. The click of her boots against the deck rang out like a death knell in the brisk night air. 

“I believe you’re looking for me.” Marin’s fingers burrowed into the barrel as her mother spoke. 

“Oh, a treasure for the eyes as well.” The pirate grinned. Against the moonlight’s pure white shine, his teeth were an ugly shade of tarnished gold. “We’ll be takin’ the Missus with us.” His hand slipped down her mother’s back, past her hip. He turned to his crew and shouted, “Kill the rest!” 

“Like Hell,” her mother snapped, then wrenched the pirate’s pistol from its sheath and shot him through the stomach. 

Marin ducked behind the barrel as the clash of swords and the deafening blast of bullets cracked through the night like a raging storm. Something hot and wet seeped below her hands as the ship jerked to the side. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know it was blood. The tang of iron wafting through the air was enough. 

As the battle died down, the wind carried a man’s voice across the deck. He couldn’t have spoken any louder than her mother had earlier when telling that story, but it felt like he was shouting in a small room. “What a waste.” 

Marin risked another peek. The deck was a sea all its own, waves of red littered with corpses. In the dark, in the blood, navy blue and pirate black were indistinguishable.  

Marin tore her eyes away and found her mother at the edge of the ship, her back pressed to cold metal. A blade was now held to her throat. 

“You would have killed them anyway,” her mother said. How was she so calm when Marin was choking on her own heart? “At least we got all but one of you bastards, too.” 

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, woman. Maybe I should rid you of that poison.” 

“Ladies first,” her mother said. A gunshot went off, and the pirate screamed. The man held his crotch where her mother’s shot had hit. Her mother canted back, away from the erratic blade, and toppled over the edge, body descending into the waters below. 

**** 

The sea was a haven for the wicked. Marin knew that, had seen it. Still, in the years following that fateful passage, she stared out at the rippling beauty. Was she to blame for those souls lost in her depths? No. Her mother was down there, somewhere, an ornament to the sea’s beauty. It wasn’t the water that took her; it was a man.

The five surviving naval officers had spent hours looking for her, but there was nothing to find. 

Marin’s fingers found the smooth metal of her mother’s old locket. She hadn’t taken it off since that day ten years ago. Every time news came of another ship taken by pirates, it felt a little heavier around her neck. 

Barry dropped onto the bench beside her. “Mar, what are you doing out here?” 

Her gaze never left the calm water. “Dreaming, I suppose.”

“Dreaming and remembering are not one and the same.”

“I am a fabulous multitasker.”

Barry snorted. “And I’m the King of England.”

“Careful there. Sir Randall lost his head for saying less.”

“Well, his Majesty isn’t in the middle of nowhere with us, is he? Besides, it would be far too much effort to behead me now.”

Now. Now that Barry was the governor. Now that her father had passed. Now that she was an orphan at nineteen and he was a leader at twenty-four. Now that they were all they had left. 

“You’ll lose yourself to the sea if you sit here any longer.”

“The shopkeepers will survive a little longer without my dazzling charm.”

“I’m sure they would love nothing more than to avoid a day of audits.”

“Yes, thank you again for making me a public enemy. I used to love the tea shop. Now Mrs. Carter glares at me whenever I go to buy my blends.”

Barry rolled his eyes and stood. “You said you were bored.”

Bored was putting it mildly. There was nothing for her at Ofter’s Point. As much as her childish heart had delighted at the prospect of a greater world, her life here had been much the same.

Even her title of Financial Keeper was little more than a play role. She knew Barry burned her reports, that nothing she did ever made it to the King’s desk. She was a prop, a doll in a slightly larger house.

She shoved at his shoulder. “Go on. I’ll meet you at the estate for supper.”

“I’m afraid we’ll have to make it breakfast. Admiral Perry requested an evening meeting.” Barry took two steps before pausing. “I’m serious, Mar. You shouldn’t let the sea drown you, too.”

Her head fell into her hands the second he was gone. 

“Well, aren’t you a serious one.”

Marin whirled her gaze upward, catching bits of the person who stood before her–scuffed boots, a pair of dark trousers, a loose white blouse held together by a thick leather corset, long hair in wild waves as dark as the rest of her attire. “Who are you?”

The woman grinned. “You can call me Letty. I just came in with the most recent crew.”

“We weren’t expecting anyone for another five days.”

Letty dropped into Barry’s seat, her head propped on her fists. “It was more a necessity than a plan. Our ship needs repair.”

“Oh. Well, Mr. Teegan will handle that shortly, I’m sure.”

Marin couldn’t hold her gaze for long. There was something heavy, knowing, in Letty’s amber eyes. 

“It’s slated to be done tonight. Until then, I suppose I’ll have the pleasure of talking with you, Miss…”

“You can call me Mar,” she echoed. Why she proposed it, though, she wasn’t sure. Only her family ever called her that. Only Barry, now. 

“Mar.” The name fell from Letty’s lips like scalding tea on a brisk morning. Mar sunk further into her arms to hide the pinkness that surely covered her cheeks. “Why do you look out at the sea like she’s an old flame?”

“It…” Marin sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Letty’s stare didn’t waver. 

“People talk about the world like it is a plane of detached places. I don’t believe that. Water connects everything. It touches every land, every heart. What else has that sort of power?”

“The air, perhaps.”

“We can’t sail the air like we can the sea.” 

Letty hummed. “If you want to leave so badly, why are you still sitting on this bench?”

“Who said I wanted to leave?” Letty raised a brow and Marin relented. “It’s not that simple.”

“Everything is simple. You either make the choice or you don’t. Speak up or stay quiet.” Letty grabbed her by the chin and pulled her until their eyes met.  “Stay or go.” 

“I have responsibilities here.”

“Are they too important to leave behind?”

“My life is here.”

“Is it a good one?”

“... My brother–”

“Will be just fine for a while.”

Mar threw her hands up. “What’s the point of contemplating the unattainable anyway?”

“Come with us.” Letty shrugged like that wasn’t a wild suggestion, like they hadn’t just met.

“Why? You don’t even know me.”

“You long for the sea, for adventure, for something greater than the life you’ve been so honorable granted,” Letty spat. “You know you’re capable of more. No one else will ever give you the chance to show it, Mar.”

The heat returned to her face. “Are you a mind reader?”

Letty snorted. It was the least dignified sound she’d ever heard a woman make. Mar wanted to pull more sounds like that from her. “No. I’m just a woman in a world of men.”

There will always be men who blame women for their failings, while never acknowledging the part we play in their successes. Where did that leave women who yearned for their own success?

“Do something for yourself, Mar.”

Her fingers found her mother’s locket again. “When do we leave?”

****

She left a note behind for Barry. It was cruel, heartless, but mostly cowardly. He would have asked her to stay, and he would have certainly swayed her. It wasn’t a setback she could afford.

Marin folded her dresses and tucked them into her bag, only for Letty to dump the whole thing out. Instead, she stuffed in clothes from Barry’s wardrobe and a servant’s uniform she nicked from the laundry.

Marin shoved one dress in once Letty seemed satisfied. “I’m bringing this. You can’t stop me.” It was the emerald green one her father had given her on her eighteenth birthday. It perfectly matched the stone seeded at the center of her mother’s locket.

Letty eyed the dress, then traced slowly up Mar’s body. “We can only hope the sea won’t be intimidated by your beauty, then. Come on, it’s time to go.”

“But I thought the boat was being repaired?” There was no answer as Letty pulled her through the estate and down toward the water. “The docks are the other way!” Nothing. Mar stayed silent until they stopped beside the massive boulders at the edge of the island. 

“I’m going to need you to keep up that decisive energy now, Mar.”

It was the last thing Letty said before they passed the rocks and Marin caught sight of the ship. The pirate ship.

“Hell no!”

“That’s not the sort of decisiveness I was hoping for. Come on, I’ll explain once we’re aboard.”

“Why would I go with a liar like you?”

“I may be a pirate, but I’m not a liar. We did need to fix the ship.”

“Oy, Captain Scarlette’s back!” A voice called out from the deck.

Captain… “You’re Captain Scarlette? The gem of the sea? The only woman to lead an all-female crew? The nautical master who bested the India Trading Company ten times over?”

Letty–Captain Scarlet—cleared her throat. “It was fourteen times.”

She was a legend, a rumor, a specter whose name was carried from port to port by wide-eyed sailors. Of all the pirate stories that made their way back to Mer, the ones about Captain Scarlette and her vessel, The Last Ship, were the only ones that filled her with something other than resentment.

There was one thing she always wanted to ask.  “Why are you a pirate?”

A wicked smirk cut across Scarlette’s face. “I long for the sea, for adventure, for something greater.” She moved in closer and brushed her knuckles down Marin’s cheek. “But I think the question you want to ask is what we do as pirates.”

 “What–” she cleared her throat as Marin’s voice wavered. “What do you do?”

“We steal from the thieves. We kill the killers.” A low laugh bubbled up from her chest. “We’re pirates that hunt pirates.” When Scarlette stepped away, she took all the warmth with her. “We’re sailing out now. Come with us or don’t. The choice is yours.”

****

The salty spray misted Marin’s face as The Last Ship gained speed. Ofter’s Point was a speck in her periphery, a memory fading into the horizon. 

The cruelest mistress was never the sea. It wasn’t even the wind. True cruelty was man, and Marin was ready to rid it from the world.