There was never anything more comforting than the heat of the mid-July sun, and today Nassau was blanketed in her warmth. The smell of salt water carried through the air on a southern breeze, and dolphins could be seen playing not far from shore. Merchant ships came and went, unloading their wares, and being watched with the ever cautious eye of the guard. Ever since the British had taken the city as their own, things were calm and quiet. Sighting the familiar black flag of pirate ships had become a rarity, making it seem as though the loss of their beloved settlement had caused them to dwindle in numbers. On the off chance that a suspicious brig sailed too close, the shores were littered with men assigned to watch for any possible threat. Only twice in the past year did anyone make the mistake of forgetting that Nassau was no longer a haven for pirates, and citizens crowded the beaches to watch the spectacle as canons and mortar fired in the open waters.
A rare few had disguised themselves as civilians and merchants, and most had been successful, able to spend prolonged periods of time ashore. Today however, those who hadn't been so lucky, were to be made an example out of. Shouts could be heard through the streets of men begging and crying for their freedom, and civilians mocking them in return. A crowd had formed and continued to grow since midday, each spectator growing increasingly impatient in awaiting the oncoming execution. For one in particular, however, the execution was nothing to be excited about. As far as Raven Attaway was concerned, it was nothing more than an abuse of power by those in a position of self-importance. To her, the British were a fastidious and self-righteous bunch; An opinion not shared by many, least of all the man she called Father.
Daniel Attaway was by no means her real father, having only become a part of her life when she was no older than five years. He came from London in service of King George I, as a member of the Royal Navy, and had been contracted to the Bahamas to help in the attempts to eradicate pirate activity. It was early 1699 when Daniel began courting a young Spanish woman named Isabella Barrero. It wasn't long, maybe a year or two, before the two had fallen quite hopelessly in love, and once Daniel's contract was finished, he married her and took on the responsibility of raising Raven as his own. He'd done his absolute best in teaching her right from wrong, and instilling strong values in her, but it never came without it's difficulties. Raven had always known that her father had died when she was barely old enough to walk, and at times had told Daniel that he had no right to lord over her the way he did. This in turn, always caused him to question his abilities as a father, and the two spent many years struggling to come to terms with each other.
As she sat looking out across the open waters watching ships sail by, proudly flying their colorful flags, she breathed deeply, trying her hardest to drown out the distant shouting. Tiny waves crept across the white sand and nipped at her toes as she sat basking in the warmth of the sun, wishing she could be out there, free as the people she watched come and go every day. There was something thrilling about the idea of guiding a ship through storm and fog, and discovering worlds that she had never seen, that she couldn't explain. But the want to do such things had become so strong over the years, that she now called it a need. She needed to escape the home that she likened to a prison. She needed to smell the salt water from the deck of a ship, and feel the spray of ocean mist against her skin. She needed the chill of a night wind in her bones, and to swim in the blue-black waters of the Caribbean. She'd wanted these things since she could remember, but never understood why she felt such a strong calling. Sure, when her mother hadn't been looking, she'd spent time with the crews that had called Nassau their home until the British neutralized any and all pirate activity. She had come to know more about their legends than their truths, but it was all the while just as enticing. But when her mother had become wise to her whereabouts when stolen ships lined the coast, she began to lock Raven away, insisting it was for her own good, and that any man or woman who associated with the likes of pirates, was just as much a heathen as they were.
Raven's fingers raked across the fine sand until they glided across a small object. She dug away at the half buried shark eye shell next to her, and dusted it off in her palm, looking at small cracks that blemished the otherwise smooth surface. Smears of wet dirt sullied the shell's naturally pale color, and after several failed attempts to clean it, she tossed it into the water, watching as small bubbles rose where the shell sank. A small sigh slipped through her lips, and she allowed herself a good stretch before finally rising up to her feet.
"There you are!"
"Where else would I be?" Raven asked in response. She looked herself over, and dusted off as much sand from her dress as she could, before turning to see Jacob approach. She smiled when she saw him, much as she always did, and looked him over as she ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to untangle a cluster of knots that had formed since morning. He laughed once or twice when he saw her wince in pain from pulling her hair, and mocked fear when she shot him a glance that screamed threats of bodily harm. "I take it, dear Jacob, that you've come to escort me home?"
"Your mother is in another one of her fits," he answered regretfully. He looked at her with apology in his brown eyes, and held a hand in her direction. "You missed the hanging."
"You were there!?"
"If I am to remain living under the safety and security of the Attaway Manor, then I must be present at any and all political and social events, and prove myself to be an upstanding, law abiding member of this fine community."
"You sound like my father," she responded, taking his hand.
"Likely because it was he who said it." He weaved his fingers through hers and began to lead her away from the comfort of her sacred place.
Guards passed them by on the main street through the city, several recognizing and greeting them, and others looking at Raven as though she was a homeless woman being taken in by a stranger. Jacob was well dressed, as was required of him by Daniel and Isabella. His hair was short, and though they insisted he kept a clean shaven face, a small patch of hair made itself at home on his chin. His skin was darkly tanned making Raven's look almost frosty white in comparison, and having worked on a nearby plantation for well over a year – yet another of Daniel's ideas to instil independence and discipline – his body was well trimmed and muscular, and often the cause of Raven's frequent distraction.
As the two drew nearer to the Attaway Manor, Raven squeezed Jacob's hand and looked up at him nervously. She wasn't eager to enter the large home, and could already hear Isabella's shouting in her mind. Jacob, who had been living with the Attaway's since his teen years, placed his hand on Raven's cheek and kissed her on the forehead before accompanying her inside. He led her across the foyer to the study at the back of the house, where they were greeted by one of Daniel's many hired servants. Raven's eyes dropped to the floor as the young African woman opened the door to reveal a furious Isabella, and would have turned and ran had Jacob not been there to stop her.
"Thank you for retrieving her, Jacob." The elegantly dressed young mother stood behind a heavy maple desk, smiling sweetly at the young man and waving him away before seating herself and folding her hands over a stack of paper that lay scattered across the surface. She was a very well kept woman, and took great pride in her appearance. Her hair lay curled over her left shoulder, not a strand out of place. A single lock of grey peaked out from the chestnut brown, betraying her age. She was a woman that many looked up to, not only for the way she looked, but the way she carried herself. Her head was always held high, and her posture near perfect. She was a prideful woman, and expected nothing but the best from everyone. Especially her daughter. She looked up at Raven, her disappointment evident in her delicate features. Her eyes were a darker shade of green than usual, and the faint wrinkles that gave beautiful distinction to her face seemed deeper than Raven remembered. "Estimada filla."
"Hola, mare," Raven replied quietly. She glanced around the room, and soon after spotted Daniel standing near a window, looking out over a small garden. She found some comfort in his presence there, knowing that as long as he was in the same room, her mother's wrath wouldn't be nearly as fierce as if he weren't there. She smiled weakly as he turned around. "Father."
Daniel offered her a comforting smile in greeting, and she felt herself relax. She'd always appreciated that his love and discipline never intertwined. No matter how angry she'd made him over the years with her antics, he'd always been a loving father, and always showed her affection despite any disappointment. The same could not be said for Isabella, however. The woman had a horrible habit of going days without speaking to the girl when she'd done something wrong, and so, over time, Raven found herself turning to her step-father in times of trouble. He motioned for her to take a seat before the large desk, and she did so immediately, folding her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes lowered and her shoulders slouched.
"You were not present at the execution today." Isabella's heavy Spanish accent rang in Raven's ears, and she kept her eyes fixated on a sheet of paper in her hands. "I would like to know why."
"Why?" Raven repeated with a laugh. She looked back and forth between Daniel and Isabella, trying to think of an appropriate response, but could think of nothing. Her gaze hardened as she looked at her mother. "I would like to know, Mother, why you find it so entertaining to take another's life and call it a lawful punishment."
"They are criminals, Raven. They deserve nothing short of a noose around their necks."
"Your definition of a criminal, Mother, is vague at best," Raven argued. She looked to Daniel who by now had taken his place next to Isabella. "Father. Can you honestly stand there and defend this idea? That a man who wants nothing more than to live his life with freedom, is truly a criminal? Can you tell me beyond any shadow of a doubt that all pirates deserve such a title, and that their freedom come with such a high price?"
"If murder and thievery is what you consider to be freedom, then yes. They all deserve that title. They scour the open water in search of other ships to prey upon, and come on our shores boasting of their achievements. The law clearly states, as I've no doubt you've learned from your studies, that piracy is a capital crime, and therefore punishable by death."
"I understand, Father." Raven accepted his answer, though it didn't change her mind any. She nodded and thought for a moment. "But why must I be forced to watch these hangings take place? What is the lesson there?"
"That you not become like these people, Raven," Daniel answered. "We know all too well that your mind takes flight when you hear stories of these animals at sea, and that you are so firm against their arrests only shows me that you would likely lie to keep them from their fates. And while I must commend your loyalty to the people you care about, it is a choice that would bring their fate upon you. You are not of my blood, Songbird, but you are my child, and I'll not see you die for another's indiscretions."
Raven sat in silence for a moment, her bottom lip quivering as she held back tears. She could feel the pain in her chest, and the lump in her throat as she swallowed down sobs, trying to be strong in front of her father. Her crying was a jumbled mess of disappointment and contempt, and after gathering herself long enough to speak, she rose to her feet.
"I understand what you are telling me," she began. She looked at both of her parents, and smiled, waiting for them to return the gesture. When they did, she headed towards the door as though taking her leave, and turned back to them as she held it open to the foyer. "However, I will spend time with the people I deem worthy of my time, whether it be thieves, whores, slaves or pirates. You can have your fun watching these people be treated like the scum of this God forsaken Earth if you so please, but I will not. Vaig a tenir part en ella!"
She stormed through the foyer, ignoring the sound of her parents shouting for her to come back and the harsh echo of the study door slamming behind her. Her bare heels pounded the floor as she made her way to the front door, all the while mumbling curse words in her mother's native tongue. She didn't put her shoes on until she was down the steps outside and halfway down the road on her way to the local plantation. She ran through the streets doing her best to avoid running into anyone, but as she turned a corner she was met by the jarring impact of another person. The two both fell to the ground from the collision, but the man that had run into her scrambled to his feet, leaving several sealed envelopes scattered about the ground. When she realized that the man was a courier, she hurried to gather up the letters and call out to him, only to find that he was long gone, leaving shouts of pirates carrying through the air. Raven stood baffled for a moment, and looked down at the letters in her hands. Being the honest woman that she had been raised to be, she decided to deliver the letters for the courier, and flipped through them until she spotted one with her name on it. She tucked it in the waist of her skirt, and proceeded to deliver the lost envelopes.
It took her nearly an hour to hand off each letter, and she cursed at herself for not paying nearly enough attention to the many people she had been introduced to at many a social gathering over the years. As she walked, her arm brushed against the letter she had tucked away, and she stopped in the middle of the road to look at it. Her name was scribed with the utmost care, though the address was scribbled down quickly. She flipped it over in her hand to see a small seal of black candle wax, and ran her fingers over it before snapping it loose and opening the aged envelope. Inside, a reddish brown sheet of paper sat neatly folded. An overpowering scent of tobacco and whiskey emanated from the letter, and she found a certain comfort in the smell. Pulling the letter out, she unfolded it, eager to find out just who this note had come from.
When she finally made her way to the plantation, she found Jacob at work in the cane fields. He was hunched over the crops, pulling weeds and removing sickly plants. His shirt was off and slung over his shoulder, and he stood up, using it to wipe sweat from his forehead. It was then that he saw her walking toward him. In her hands he could see a sheet of paper, crumpled under her tight grip, and as she moved closer, he could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. He laid his shirt around his neck and dropped what he was doing, stumbling through the field to go to her aid.
"Dove," he said, wiping his thumb across the unending flow of tears. As he brushed strands of hair from her face, he could see the redness in her eyes. In all of the years he'd known her, he'd never seen her such a disaster, and it had him beyond concerned. "What's happened?"
Raven didn't speak. Instead, she handed him the letter and allowed him to see for himself as she choked back violent sobs. She watched as he read the letter, seeing his expression change from worry to sympathy, and feeling her heart break more than she'd already thought possible. As he looked up at her, she sniffed, wiping her eyes. "I need a drink."