Skinny, malnourished boys and girls all shimmied along the line from the ship. You could see their bony features through their oversized clothes. One of them locked eyes with me and then immediately dropped his head.
Burning ancient rage rages inside me. I burn with it.
Despite everything that happened, despite the amount of violence that occurred last night, this pushes me. I want every person on that ship dead and killed and all those kids somewhere safe.
I don't know what it is about this particular ship. Maybe I'm going crazy, but I feel like I know it in my bones.
Maybe that's why I'm standing on my feet, inching closer. I'm not exactly covert. I'm tall as hell, and my face is probably plastered all over the kingdom right now. Despite that I'm confident. I'm light on my feet, and I've been training for years to make movements that draw a crowd to my attention and ones that allow me to move as silent as the wind.
I sneak through the secondary hatch, the one that enters into the luggage, and see the rest of the kids, their eyes going wide as they see me. One of the kids opens their mouth, probably to scream, but I move a finger towards my mouth, silencing them all.
I look around for guards and fall short.
There is a drunk sailor with a swollen belly lounging on the floor, probably passed out drunk, monitoring the kids. I retrieve my knife and hover over the drunker. I make sure my body is covering the length of him so when I stab him, the kids won't see.
I roll him on his belly so they won't see the blood.
I turned back to the kids still all wide-eyed seeing me. I inch closer to them. I crouch down, looking at the chains that bind them all. It's one long one that ties around their wrists, and it makes me want to roar. I inch closer, trying to think of how to unlock their chains, but the boy flinches. Fucking flinches.
I tried to think of how to reassure him, but my gaze wandered to the flag in the signet on it. It's finally clear enough for me to recognize Captain Shitface.
That's why I called him when I was brought in this ship, the same ship that brought me into this very country to be sold. I never learned his name. I never saw him again.
Those weeks in that shit in this ship were the worst weeks of my life. I was so scared, puking my guts out because the stench of the corpse of the first kid that died was never thrown overboard, and we were stuck smelling the stench of it and never brought food as much as in the crew, maybe once a day if we were lucky.
I look away before I have the chance take care of the men upstairs, slaughtering them until all of them were dead and reveal what I'm doing here.
Wow, where did those come from?
I shake off my head trying to concentrate. I come through my trousers grinning, realizing that I still have the pocket picker. And in a few quick movements I unlock his risks. He looks surprised, but doesn't think much of it before he turns to the rest of the kids saying something in a language I don't quite understand. I think it's from the Eastern provinces.
I have no idea what they said to them, but apparently it was enough because the rest of the kids look at me with awe.
I make it to the rest of the kids until each and every one of them is free from these shackles again. I lift my finger to my mouth, silencing them all, but they know better than to speak. I leave them looking to see if there is any of the crew outside of the Bay.
There are two who are smoking.
I move towards them, putting on a friendly face. "Hey there." One of them nods at me, the other looks confused. I punch the first one in the face, clunking him to the other man's call, then knocking them out.
Where that strength came from?
I made the whistling sound to let the children know that it's all right to come out. The boy that I let out first, pokes his head. He makes a few hasty words in the foreign language that I don't understand to the rest of the kids, and they all come out.
But with them there is one familiar face that I can't wait to kill. Captain shitface.
I never learned the fucker's name. But I have memorized his features so much so that I can recount them by heart.
He's holding a hunting dagger to one of the girl's throats. She slightly whines but doesn't make a sound. A growl built in my throat, and I struggled to keep it down.
I feel like I can kill him just for touching her like this. As if she is a vase he owned and I inconvenienced him by tampering with it.
He chirps, "Who are you, little hero?"
I hold my dagger as if it's my point of finger towards its future victim. "Tell me your name," I demanded with cold authority.
He smirks, arrogance. "Why would you like to know?"
He thought I weighed nothing in the grand scheme of things. He was wrong.
"I would like to know the name of the person I'm going to kill. "I did not know where this false confidence came from, but I held it strong.
He slightly chuckled, "You are mistaken about which one of us is going to die, but if it makes you feel more at ease, it is at ease, Captain James Maddock."
I hurled the dagger with all my force towards him, and it made a thudding sound as it hit his chest inches from the girl's head.
Most of them started running, not even giving me a glance, except for one, the very first boy I removed from shackles. The boy casts a look at me and takes my hand, pulling me towards the bay. He probably wants me to go with him.
I shook my head. "You go."
He doesn't understand me, but in a way I think he does. Because he lets go regarding me with a strange look about him. He knows, but only because he knows the other kids will follow him if he won't.
I go back to the ship, doing one last thing before I leave.
The ale was tucked away there with tobacco and the matches to smoke with. the perfect recipe for arson.
I spilled it all over the floor before and lit it with a flame. The fire is quick to overtake the room, and it's fucking beautiful.
When I walk away from the fire, the voices come back stronger than ever.
Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer. Killer.
Killer.
----------
Patrice looks at me suspiciously. I think she knows. I smell of smoke and guilt.
I do feel guilty, but not for the killing. I wish I did.
because of the burning of the boat. We had to be another both because apparently the ship was loaning some seats for passengers when they would return home.
To think that if I didn't wait, I would probably have burned us all to the ground, drowning us into the ocean, because I wouldn't have been able to keep my anger in check until I killed everyone on board.
I do not know what this rage is or where it is coming from, but it feels potent and clean and strangely familiar.
Helena and the little boy, whose name I now finally know is Jacob, are both playing with dice at the back of the ship. She cried a lot when she first woke up. All she did when she first woke up, was latching on to my chest, hanging on to me until she collapsed again.
She warned suspiciously quickly to the boy, which further confirms my theory that they are siblings.
My chest does squeeze and I lurch upright seeing the two of them together. My hand touches her shoulder and she turnsgives me a glad smile and moves her into the room that we both got. Patrice wanted to be with Jacob, so we got the smaller bed.
I crane my neck to see beyond the doorframe she's currently hovering over. I don't need to see her face to realize that she is thinking about how small that bed is and how both of us staying together makes her feelings way more complicated.
I chant with almost a taunting note, "I know what you want…"
I kiss her gently on the shoulder. She snorts, "No, you don't." I give her a knowing smirk, tilting my head towards her lips. She slightly frowns, angling herself away from me. "Maybe we shouldn't sleep together today."
"If you want to sleep with Jacob and Patricia, then you go right ahead. I'll spread myself around this bed." I waggle my eyebrows, grinning, and it feels real. It feels genuine.
I touch her crude cuts, untaming her hair. I slightly wincing at the motion. That I might have made her uncomfortable.
She has so much sadness in her eyes. "I'm so sorry." I tell her although I know it won't return her hair. She tries to wipe off the very first tear that falls, but there are more to follow.
My hug swallows her whole. She is like the soft warm light in my chest. I cradle her into bed, peppering small kisses on her body. I just content to lie like that for hours and hours.
***
Somehow Patrice got me a new set of clothes. Just a pair of slacks and a doublet with a tight fit to it. I was letting Helena sleep while I was below deck, some of the passengers lingering.
I was busy trying to figure out how to do a sailor's knot when I felt someone's eyes on me.
She has that pucker to her brow as if she's trying to pinpoint where she recognizes me. I shift uncomfortably, but I didn't not moving. I can't let her know how uncomfortable I am under her scrutiny.
I cast a look at Patrice and Jacob but they're busy with a dice game. I moved away from the female's gaze, going to the stern of the ship.
News already began to spread over the ship that I burned it. The mystery of how the slave ship caught fire was already mutating into rebellion amongst the runaway slaves.
I wondered if I did the right thing. Maybe I did everything worse. They're just kids—where are they now? Back in some slave traders meaty fingers?
Or even worse, they would be getting away long enough just to be caught by the slave catchers among those of us with ownership on our skin.
There was nothing more terrifying than the slave catcher. The hunter's only job was to catch runaway slaves.
Gods, I needed something, anything. I didn't want to be around anyone.
There were plenty of people working up top. sailors made youth of the wing use of the wind, doing all sorts of things that I did not understand, and prodding at the size of the ship.
Honestly, my father was a great fisherman, so I always abstained from the sea.
I think dad decided I would be taking over the business, when both of my brothers would take the title. He wanted me to learn the family trade of hunting and fishing and learning about types of nets, but I never had the skill for it. I liked building things and climbing on trees.
Now that I'm looking at the horizon, trying to not empty my stomach, I understand why there is a part of me that understands why he loved the sea, the salt smell, and the quiet of it all.
I suppose I thought I was passing out at first when everything went black.