Pirate Princess

Chapter 11: Tourmaline

The two weeks that it took to sail to Tourmaline Island were mostly uneventful, interspersed with occasional tiffs between Prince Alaraec and Captain Ezranya, but the time passed steadily. The pirates started to integrate themselves well enough with the hired sailors, and a few friendships were even struck up between the men. Each sect learned the habits and styles of the other, slowly meshing into one crew. The pirates found themselves entertained by stories of naval expeditions that many of the Remalnan sailors had been on. Then one evening in the first week, the royal sailors were startled at the after-dusk call of, "Face suckers on deck!"

Ezra had been in yet another meeting with the Royal Four, going over the ship's charts and waggoner when the call went up. She had to laugh at the reactions of the four men. They had their swords in hand and looked ready to fight. She had to explain to them that it was just Dita being friendly to one of the crew. They seemed shocked at the prospect, which sent Ezra into a better humor than she had been for several candles. The four men sat down, embarrassed, to recommence with the plotting of the charts to determine exactly where Tourmaline Island was located. Ezra continued to do her best to throw off the measurements.

The Valiant sailed into Captinadora Harbor at high tide on a hot, cloudless day. Ezra sent out a flag'o'truce—one of the small lifeboats lashed to the side—to go into port and let the barons know that Captain Ezranya Fyn had come to Tourmaline and requested safe passage on land. Bear and the pirates she'd sent out didn't return until the sun had begun to sink into the water far in the distance. Many of the men had grins etched on their faces. The Valiant was not only welcome in port, the messengers reported, but also one of the barons extended his fond greetings to Ezranya—having known her since she was a child. Of course, this same man had been leering at her since she was a child, so it wasn't a great compliment.

Ezra rolled her eyes and shuddered at the greeting. Within moments, the other lifeboats were made ready to depart. She called out to the crew, those who were going ashore, to head to the piraguas. She appointed a few ex-pirates and royally hired sailors to stay on board for the first term to guard the Valiant. It wouldn't do to go to port and have someone else sail away with their ship. Just as she was about to climb into one of the small vessels going ashore, Bear caught her arm gently, a teasing smile lost in his beard.

"Just to warn ya, princess, we're not the only ship that's come in since yesterday. The other ship is docked over by The Rocks."

Ezra gave him a disbelieving face, narrowing her eyes. "Uncle Bear, no one docks by The Rocks. It's too hard to get to port, and the only reason to come from that direction is to show off—Oh, no." Her face fell, shoulders drooping at the unhappy idea that sailed into her head.

Bear nodded. His teasing smile creased his face beneath the thick beard.

"Caelron?"

"Yup."

She groaned, leaning her head against Bear's wide, barrel-chest. Just her luck. Captain Caelron Nahauque of the Crusader was Fyn's much younger friend. He had started his pirating career off as a sailor on the Fearless years before, worked his way up to first mate, and finally won enough to buy his own rig. He had been trying to flirt with her since she was fifteen, when he still sailed with Fyn, and he couldn't seem to get it through his thick skull that she was completely and utterly uninterested.

"Urgh," Ezra grumbled. "Just what I need: two people that I can't bear the sight of in the same port." She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "Fate doesn't want us here, Uncle Bear."

The grizzly man chuckled and ushered her into the waiting boat, climbed in after her, and cast off. As they headed to the docks at the water's edge, Ezra counted the many ways that this could go badly.

Alaraec sat at the bow of the small boat that was conveying him and twelve other sailors to shore. His shoulders felt tight and his jaw had locked together in tension, though he couldn't think of a reason why he would be so anxious. No, he was only going to an unknown island inhabited by outlaw pirates and their whores, under the pretense of also being pirates, to interrogate the residents of the island in order to go hunt yet more pirates that were very possibly the most terrible of them all. No, no reason to be nervous at all.

Two of the men that were in Alec's boat hopped onto the decaying wood planks of the dock, causing the craft to rock back and forth. No one else seemed worried about capsizing, so Alaraec repressed his own fear. A memory gave him a small jolt as he remembered that he needed to remove the pirates' pearl before he got out of the small vessel. He set out to untie the flax string that surrounded his wrist one-handed. The boat was tied off by the time he resigned himself to the use of teeth to the string to loosen it from the knot Dita had tied it in. Alec barely managed to avoid being left behind as the other men left the boat without bothering to check if the Prince was with them. He shoved the pirates' pearl into a pocket in his trousers before carefully climbing out of the craft to follow them.

Once on the darkening wharf, many of the men from his transport spread out, dispersing into the crowds that flowed from one newly-illuminated island establishment to another. No set order appeared to be adhered to by both visitors and populace in regards to the inns and taverns of the isle (does that make sense?). The men and women—not a few of whom were dressed, as Ezranya had been, in the garb of a sailor—drifted in conflicting currents along the narrow, muddy streets. He was shocked to see that there were actually children of all ages running the gamut of the masses, chasing a ball, tossing sticks to dogs, and picking the occasional pocket of a sailor who had foolishly let his guard down.

Alaraec tugged on the tight braid he'd pulled his hair back in to make sure that it was secure, and took in a deep breath of the air that was constantly refreshing itself from the sea-breezes that cleansed the atmosphere of the shabby town during the day. He hoped his simple, blue cotton shirt, unwashed for some days now, and his tan breeches that now boasted several small rips from his ongoing education as a true sea-farer, would be enough to convince the islanders that he was who he was pretending to be. He reminded himself that if he couldn't, it would mean a hasty retreat from Tourmaline at the least, and possibly a good scuffle to get them to the ship.

Following a few of the sailors that were headed toward the dingy that was serving as transport for Captain Ezranya, Alec took in as much of the dock-side scenery in as he was able, still trying to maintain that he was unimpressed by what was supposed to be a common sight. He could make out the shapes of Ezranya and the hulk of Bear in the fading light as they climbed out of their boat.

Alec went directly to his Captain's side, he and she having lately settled into an unspoken truce, though it was far from a long-term peace treaty. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed in warning for him not to do anything stupid to ruin their ruse. She was dressed in fitted black trousers and a grey blouse over which was an embroidered bodice the same shade of red as the bloody sunset had been.

Ezra didn't trust that the Prince could move around Tourmaline alone and hope to convince anyone that he was really a seasoned pirate, knowledgeable enough, and ruthless enough, to have become first mate on his own credits. She had made sure that he was going to stay close to her side, as if stitched to her coattails.

"Everyone here?"

The five members of her crew that were instructed to stay near her nodded, checking the swords, knives, and all manner or cutlery strapped to them—only recently issued back to the pirates by the un-official commander and his men. With their affirmation, Ezra led the men into town. She straightened the unadorned lapels of the long, dark cotton jacket that she wore to keep off the chill of the night wind that affected even this tropical island. She set her shoulders, making sure to keep her head high and her confidence unwavering, Ezra led the way through the cramped streets, filled with a collage of pirates and prostitutes.

Tourmaline was a hodgepodge of slowly decaying wood buildings, wrought-iron railings on the balconies and front porches, and representatives of the many races of Sartorius-deles that retired to the island at a given time. Glow globes were mounted high on poles, shedding light on the colorful dresses and skirts worn by the women, the cuts and decoration of which helped even the most dense of observers realize the profession of these ladies. The men that moved among them were generally clad in darker colors, and had impressive sabers and rapiers attached to belts.

Ezranya was looking for a specific punch house, the White-Cap, run by "Baron" Tamnus Capstan. He was a man that Fyn had respected. After years of watching his dealings with Fyn, and the fair amount he paid for purchase that the Fearless had picked up, Ezra had come to respect him, too. If she remembered clearly, the White-Cap stood at the end of the widest avenue, larboard of the crowded town square so that it faced away from the setting sun.

The unpleasantly familiar cackle of a half-drunk prostitute made the short hairs on the back of Ezra's neck stand up. Unwittingly, she stopped walking, blocking the street. Her shoulders stiff, and her heart picking up a beat or two faster than normal, Ezra did her best not to pull out her re-issued saber, turn, and do as she had threatened earlier.

"Well, well, well. Look who's back on Tourmaline. And all done up to go to the party, too."

The slurred scratch of Mallinde's taunt was like sandpaper on Ezra's nerves. She pivoted, slowly, already feeling the dislike of the mere memory of this woman grow into something much more malignant upon sight. The men got a few steps out of the way. They didn't want to interfere with the feud between two females.

"Why, Mallinde," Ezra greeted her. "I was afraid that you hadn't matured since the last time we met and got into that childish squabble, but, look: you seem at least ten, maybe fifteen years older."

The highly painted prostitute stepped down from the porch of the brothel she worked in, a tumbler full of some dark liquid clutched in her fist. She moved toward the slightly younger woman, disdain and pugnacious eagerness for a fight glowing in her face, adding to the alcohol-induced blush on her cheeks. Mallinde was too thin, and her naturally thin hair had started to fall out the last few years. Her dress hung loose on her frame, but she had strength in her arms contrived from years of doing her work, which included any fantasy that a customer might want, fulfilled for the right price. After all that she had put up with from the younger girls being brought in by the boss to attract new patrons to the Blue Sail Inn, she was not about to let a little upstart goody like Ezranya Fyn get the best of her.

"Listen here, you jumped-up little piece of jetsam," Mallinde slurred, gesturing with her tankard; "I whipped you before, and I can do it again."

"You whipped me?" Ezra moved forward a step. One of her hands drifted over to rest on the hilt of her saber.

"Speaking of which," the prostitute said, a sneer pulling her mouth garishly wide. "Where is my dear Willem? Tired of him so soon?"

To those who watched from the outside, Ezra went still, but inside she quaked and burned. She hadn't gotten through her grief, and this baggage was defiling the name of her love. She had to consciously move her hand away from her blade in order to keep from killing the tramp. She gripped her hands into fists by her sides, and forced her shoulders back. Chin pushed high, Ezra forced her voice to sound as casual as if they were talking about buttered rolls. "Willem died."

Mallinde showed her surprise, eyebrows flying upwards. She stumbled a bit, although she hadn't been walking any further. "Oh! My, my. When was this? How did my big, strong Willem go, then?"

Ezra pulled in a quick breath through her nose and drove the air down her throat. She refused to cry, but the lump that was thickening in her throat put up a fight. She thought hard in search of a scathing insult to drive the barnacled wench back into the hole she'd crawled from. "Well, Mallinde, it wasn't so very long ago, actually. It's still hard for me to talk about it, you understand? He was just lying in his hammock, asleep, when he let out a holler - that sounded suspiciously like your filthy name, to wake monsters from the darkest part of the deep. Then he died. Seems he was dreaming of you at the time. More like a nightmare, really, since he died of fright!"

The crowd that had gathered to witness the beginnings of what promised to be a blazing row, snorted at the joke. Ezra ignored them, her attention focused solely on the flushing, embarrassed Mallinde.

The haggard whore sneered at Ezra, violently tossing the contents of her cup in the pirate's direction. "At least he was dreaming of me, Ezranya." The crew of the Valiant moved back to avoid the putrid liquor that was flung at them. She fleered and laughed at their reaction.

Mallinde flipped her dingy, dishwater hued hair over her shoulder and narrowed her wavering sight on Ezra. " 'Parently you just aren't woman enough to've kept him loyal, even in his dreams—not that he was loyal to ya awake. Oh, don't look so surprised, dearie. I'm not the only one he tumbled while you stayed aboard the Fearless these last few years."

Following a moment of shocked stillness, a guttural shout erupted from Ezra's throat. She tried to launch herself at Mallinde, not even bothering to take her saber from its scabbard. She was intent upon ripping the woman apart with her bare hands.

Alaraec had stayed near the back of the group as they had come from the wharf, which put him closest to Mallinde when she'd come out of the Blue Sail. This also made him the only one within reach to catch Ezranya when she dove toward the offending party. He reached out an arm and hooked it around her waist. In the instant momentum, he spun her around so that her back collided with his chest, then locked his other arm around her, pinning her flailing arms down to her sides.

"Whoa! Easy, Captain!"

The other men looked startled, but none so much as Mallinde. She had thrown down her tumbler at the sound of Ezra's screech and braced herself for another fight. Now she had all her attention screwed to the new blond that had leapt into the fray to save her.

"My goodness." She attempted a drunken purr directed toward Alec. "Who might this be? Willem may not be dead long, but you sure didn't have trouble replacing him, did you?"

Ezra's body locked up for a moment to regroup its rage. The next moment, she was doing her damnedest to fight her way through Alaraec's grip and get to Mallinde to tear her face off, while he kept his arms wrapped as tightly around her as he could. There was no telling what sort of damage she could do at this point.

The commotion had drawn an audience long before, but it wasn't until Ezra—frustrated at not being able to break out of Alec's firm hold on her—started yelling the most colourful phrases she knew, and then making some up, that the proprietor of the Blue Sail finally came out onto the porch and pulled his employee back inside.

Ezra kept trying to get loose for several long minutes after Mallinde had disappeared through the portal of the low-end inn. Alec eventually had to let go, his grip weakened from her spirited struggle. When he let her go, Ezra stumbled forward, just managing to catch herself from ending up face-first, imbedded in the damp road. She regained her footing and turned back to Alaraec, hot, frustrated tears bleeding from her reddened eyes.

"Why did you stop me?" She strode the two steps back to him, and pushed him with everything she had when she got within reach. "I wanted her dead! I would have killed her myself! Why did you stop me?"

Alec stumbled backwards. Hands caught him, or else he would have ended up sitting in the half-dry mud. He didn't know what to say to her. Didn't know if there was anything to say, so he said nothing. She came forward and shoved him again, and again the hands of the other crewmen kept him upright.

Bear reached out to put a hand on her trembling shoulder. "Ezra, now listen—"

Ezra jerked away from his touch, turning to look Bear in the eye. "Don't touch me." Her hissed growl made Bear's own rumblings sound like the purring of a kitten compared to the roar of a lion. "You knew. You knew. How could you, Bear?"

"Oh, princess…." Bear sighed, not having the first idea what to say to her.

Ezra's shoulders dropped—the fight went out of her for a moment. For an instant, she simply stood there in the road, crying. Then she stalked off, rubbing the heel of her hand across her cheeks, once more in search of the White-Cap Tavern, and left the men to stand alone, and slowly follow in her wake.

The supporting hands fell away from Alaraec's back, and the men began to trail after Ezra. For several minutes, no one dared say a thing, or even to try and think of something to say, as they walked on. When the sign of the White-Cap Tavern came into sight, swinging on its hooks above the entrance, Alec paused in the street and reached out to grasp Bear's shoulder.

"Did you know? About Willem's on shore activities, I mean."

Bear was quiet before he answered. A weary scowl deepened the lines around his mouth, and his voice was shamed when he spoke. "Aye. I knew."

Alaraec shook his head. He cast his gaze up to the door of the tavern that Ezra had ducked into. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"Because I liked Will," Bear said. "He was a good man, and I didn't see what harm it could do. You have to understand. Ezra's our little princess. Always has been. We all wanted the best for her—and that includes a proper weddin' and life ashore, at some point. We didn't want to spoil her dreams, so we let Willem go his own way on land, easin' his needs, and knowin' that he was loyal to our girl in his heart. Who was I to break her heart?"

"So you let someone who cares less for her than the dirt on her hem tell Ezranya that the man she loved was dallying around behind her back," Alec quipped.

"Dallying," Bear snorted. "Pretty way to put it."

"It doesn't matter what way I put it, the meaning is the same."

"Aye, it is." Bear sighed out all of the breath in his lungs and ducked his head.

Alec rubbed the back of his neck and started up the stairs of the White-Cap's porch and headed for the door. He was sure that Ezra would be more of a challenge to work with from now on. It was because of the mission that he and his father had put her on that she had even come back to Tourmaline, only to find out that her lover had been unfaithful.

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A/N: Hope you all like it so far! Kudos to Alcapacien for being a fast thinker. Cyber cookies for those who review this chapter and a surprise present! Scroll down to see what it is!

Aussiegirl: To all your questions we only have one answer so far – we'll see!

VioletIvy: Alaraec considers himself a heterosexual male, the idea of him being anything else is beyond him. I think he would finally put two and together, but as of now, he's still a little lost.

Rootbeergirl: Sorry! But there's a surprise at the end of this chap so we hope that it'll make it up to you.

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Time for the SURPRISE! Drum roll

We have a double update! Check out chapter 12 as well.

Ereshkigalgirl & FelSong