La Prima Storia: La Cattura
The waves crashed on the sturdy bow her ship, Il Diavolo del Mare. The spray of the sea misted across her face. She reveled in the strong wind that whipped against her long auburn curls that flowed from beneath her black, gaudy feathered hat. She felt invigorated, alive.
"Captain! A Regalo trade ship! To the North-Northwest!" her crewman shouted from the crow's nest.
"Good. I was ready for some action," she said. Her mouth twisted in a greedy smirk.
"There's treasure to be had, my boys! Get those sails at full-mast! We're gonna take 'em unawares!" she ordered.
"Yes, Captain!" her crew shouted in gleeful acquiescence.
Her small, strong hands gripped the rail of the upper deck. Her anticipation was palpable. This was the payoff she waited for. The recent take had been slim in the previous months. Italia had all but locked down the Mediterranean. Times were difficult for the entrepreneurial privateers of her day. Pirates were a dying breed, and easy wealth now hard to come by.
Regalo was a rich, prosperous, and more importantly unaffiliated, island kingdom, and the pirate was more than happy to indulge herself in a little redistribution of that prosperity.
They closed in on the trade ship in record speed, the wind at their back, full in the enormous black sails. She gestured to raise their flag, and her men complied. The Mark of Diavolo, her mark, proudly displayed on a black field. She grabbed her spyglass, hoping to catch a glimpse of the merchants as they shivered in dread. Instead, her eyes trained on the figure of a golden-haired young man barking orders on the deck of his small frigate. The pirate's face contorted in a snarl.
"Liberta," she growled.
That man was an enduring thorn in the side of her budding pirate career. He was single-handedly responsible for the destruction of more than a few ships in her fleet. More infuriating were the members of her crew, her men, who met their ill fates at the tip of his skilled blade. It was a vendetta that she harbored with intense ferocity.
"Get ready, boys! We'll be boarding 'em. There's treasure on that boat more valuable than gold. It's called Revenge, lads! And I'll be takin' Liberta's head myself!" she shouted. The deck roared with cheers.
She weaved her way across the deck towards the mast, barking orders as she passed. With a practiced finesse, she climbed the netting towards the topsail. Again, she peered through her spyglass. Liberta was helping a crewman tie down a cannon. A wicked smile cropped up across her face. They were in shooting range.
"Ready the cannons! Chain shot on the deck! I want that mast coming down!" she bellowed. Her answer was the thundering of cannons below her. She threw her head back in manic laughter.
She slid down a nearby rope, her feet landed on the deck to the thunder of more cannon fire.
"Half-sails," she shouted to nearby crewmen, who jumped to follow her command.
She swiftly made her way to the helm. She grabbed the wheel from her first-mate and turned the rudder sharply, forcing the Diavolo on a collision trajectory. Another round of cannon-fire sounded over the sea, followed by the distinctive cracking sound she so longed to hear. Their mast came down in a mass of billowy white sails and splinters. They were sitting ducks, now. She could easily sink the frigate, and send them all to a watery grave. No, that simply wouldn't do. It didn't have the personal touch that Liberta deserved.
She spun the wheel around again, steering the Diavolo alongside the battered frigate. Not waiting for the boarding party to set the planks, she grabbed a nearby rope and swung the gap between the two ships. Her cutlass already in her hand.
"Liberta!" she roared.
Manic, amethyst eyes wildly searched the throng of crewmen for his face. She fought off their attacks, fiercely cutting down all who barred her path. Normally, she would have played, dragged the battles out a little longer, but her bloodlust could only be sated by the crimson flow of single target. Suddenly, he emerged amongst the throng battle, and she immediately turned her attention to the object of her rage. Their clashing cutlasses showered the deck in sparks as they engaged in a stalemate battle. Both equally matched in terms of prowess. Liberta's aquamarine eyes narrowed, and she laughed, intoxicated by the heady effect of his fierce determination. She loved it when they fought back. It made the taste of victory so much sweeter.
"Pensiero Realizzare," her foe shouted. A golden light erupted from the stigmata on his forehead, and she scowled. So, he decided to rely on his powers, did he?
"Shatter," Liberta said as he swung his blade down to forcefully clash with hers. It was an attack easily blocked. Her moment of arrogance evaporated as her cutlass resonated vigorously in her hand, emitting the sharp ping of a tuning fork. Cracks formed along the length of her blade, and it exploded in a shower of shrapnel. Her breath burst from her throat in a roar of rage, and she desperately slashed at him with her dagger. He batted it away easily. Arms appeared around her, restraining her, and she thrashed violently against them. Her resistance was futile, and she spat her curses at the young man's feet.
"I don't understand you pirates," Liberta said as he shook his head. "Put her in chains, Nova can figure out what to do with her."
The young man turned on his heel to bark orders at his crew. The battle was over. Her crew stood in a mute silence. Their previously invincible leader was now in the hands of the Arcana Famiglia. There was nothing they could do, but stare in shock as they dragger her roughly below deck.
The room was cold and gloomy, dismal and grey. A single source of light loomed overhead. The captured pirate princess sat alone at a steel table, bolted to the floor. She fidgeted against her restraints. The waiting nearly drove her mad with impatience. The creak of the door heralded his approach. Her violet eyes shot a defiant stare.
"Amica del Diavolo," the youth deadpanned. He dropped a stack of papers on the table before her.
"Well, if it ain't the famous Samurai Nova," she sneered. "You're shorter than I expected."
Unimpressed, the black suit clad adolescent sat in the chair across from her, and slowly perused the documents with cold blue eyes. After a long moment of silence, he finally turned his attention to the girl before him.
"You're being charged with multiple counts of piracy, instances of torture and murder. It's quite a lengthy file," he said as he gestured to the papers.
"Yeah, so what? And your point is, pretty boy?" Amica snickered.
"You're probably going to die," the youth said flatly.
"Aye, I already knew all that ahead of time," the pirate sighed in boredom. "You know, I don't like repeating myself. There a point to all this?"
"We are offering you the chance to defend yourself," Nova said, his face and voice emotionless.
"Oh, that's what we're doing? Well, if you really wanted to let me defend myself, you'd bring me a weapon. I don't expect that's the case, so I'll play along."
"I never killed, or tortured, nobody that didn't deserve it. Certainly not any of yours. So, I'm having trouble seeing what you're taking issue with. I even went so far as to leave you your ships, most of the time."
"Yeah, you're practically a saint, Bambina," a smooth voice interjected.
She barked in mirthless laughter. Her eyes narrowed at the newcomer, irritated that she had not sensed his arrival. He lazily reclined against the wall, and regarded her with a slanted stare. An eye patch covered his right eye. It added a bit of mystique to his persona, which Amica assumed was intentional. His sarcasm, however, was a refreshing change from the dim-witted Liberta and his stalwart cohort Nova.
"A girl's got to eat, you know?" she remarked snidely.
"So true, Bambina, but it seems piracy is a concern of the Coin," the man said with an arrogant grin. "And Debito, Leader of the Coin, always comes out to play for the sake of a lovely signorina. But in all seriousness, Bambina, you're in deep with Papa. No telling what you're going to have to do to get out from under this."
Nova issued a snort of contempt that sharpened the wicked gleam in Amica's violet eyes.
"Debito, was it? So you seem to believe I might be able to get out of this, do you?" she purred. Nova shifted uncomfortably across from her. She smirked at his momentary lack of composure.
"I do," Debito said, simply. "There's been rumors-"
"That's enough, Debito!" Nova shouted, cutting him off. "That's for Papa to decide."
"Fair enough. She'll find out sooner or later. Until then, Bambina," the leader of the Coin stalked out the door after flashing his arrogant smile. Nova ran his hands through his blue-black hair as he collected his thoughts. With a sigh, he looked across the table at her.
"Tell me about your contract," Nova ordered abruptly, unnerving the pirate with its suddenness. How the Arcana Famiglia knew her secret was beyond her.
"Contract?" she asked lamely.
"Don't play dumb. It's obviously too late for that. If you don't cooperate, there's more unpleasant means to get the information. Willing or not, you'll tell us. So I'll ask again. What is your card?" Nova asked. His fist clenched.
The tension in his body exuded an aura of danger. She swallowed hard. They could have asked anything of her, but why this? Why the one secret, Amica struggled all her life to protect. She was backed into a corner. There was no telling what they'd do to uncover the truth. With the power they possessed, she was in for more trouble than she imagined. Her swift execution was a child's fantasy now.
"Il Carro and Il Diavolo…"
"When and how?" Nova asked. His wavering voice betrayed his calm, collected façade.
"How am I supposed to answer that? It's always been this way," she answered.
"I see. Well, that's all I'll ask of you today. You can wait for Papa to decide," Nova said.
Amica did not dignify him with a response. He silently collected his documents. The hinges whined as he opened the door, and she was alone with the soft click of the lock. So, this was it. More waiting. The waiting was worse than the punishment, the incarceration worse than death. Death was over in an instant. Her thoughts were burdened with regret. She should have sunk the damned ship. Once again, she played the fool for her pride.
Her fists clenched at her side. That damned Liberta. If I live through this, I'll make him pay.
"Did you pick up on a certain family resemblance?" Debito's cool tone broke through Nova's rumination.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Nova replied coldly. The instantaneous halt of Nova's movements gave away his lie. He noticed it the moment he laid eyes on her. He spent too much time around the family not to.
"Is that so? Perhaps my eye is going bad. No matter. I think our new little signorina is going to make things quite interesting around here," Debito said, an amused smile growing across his face.
"She's trouble," Nova said.
"So true. But the fun kind," Debito answered. He pushed himself off the wall, and strolled leisurely down the hall, leaving Nova to his worried thoughts.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! Any comments or reviews would be appreciated of course. I may come back at a later date and edit it again.
3.14.14