At last, after forcing those four words out from deep within, the frantic Jackdaw fell silent. It crouched low beside Roy’s ear, its withered, bloodshot eyes darting about. Alert and emboldened now that it was back at its master’s side, it gazed in the direction it had flown from.
Elfie had witnessed the new captain’s cruelty and had nearly been turned into a grisly example meant to warn against mutiny. Naturally, the experience had left a deep scar. But after struggling with all its might to escape and landing on the arm where it most often perched, it suddenly wasn’t afraid anymore.
To Elfie, the new captain was nothing but a timid, submissive child in front of Roy. He didn’t even dare turn the Mermaid around and come closer to check whether she was still alive.
“Looks like your ship and crew… really aren’t coming back.”
About ten minutes had passed since the Jackdaw flew off. But just as Elfie had expected, the Mermaid never appeared beyond the island. Kain broke the captain’s silent vigil.
Roy turned her gaze away from the sea and went back to sit beside the navy officer. She tore a strip of white cloth from her sleeve to bandage Elfie’s wounds. Throughout the process, the little Jackdaw sat on her lap, remarkably docile—not at all as mischievous and restless as others of its kind.
“Richie had the guts to betray me, but not to come and kill me himself. The others on that ship are no different.”
Roy spoke without looking up as she tended to Elfie’s wounds. She wasn’t raging like the betrayed captains in stories, shouting at the surging waves that she’d send every last unbeliever to the bottom of the sea.
“There. You’re all right now.”
The bandage was soon in place. The Jackdaw wriggled free of its master’s hands and hopped onto the damp earth. Tilting its head, it eyed the weakened navy officer with curiosity. As if it had spotted one of the black fish-eagles that often came to scare and threaten it, it let out a shrill cry: “Mambo! Mambo!”
A Mambo is a deep-sea fish shaped like a big plate. It likes to float belly-up in the sun and looks rather dimwitted. The Imperial Navy is much the same: its officers love to fly their flags high and proclaim who they are, as if afraid no one will notice how mighty they are. So pirates in the Eastern Sea Region usually call the Orlan Navy “Mambos” to mock and insult them.
“Quiet.” Roy reached out and tapped the Jackdaw’s little head. The bird sulked off, clearly unwilling to share a roof with its former mortal enemy. Beneath the dry stone overhang, only a navy commander whose fleet had been wiped out and a pirate captain abandoned by her own crew remained.
After a long silence, Kain broke it. “What are you going to do now? Still planning to use me as a money tree?”
Roy shook her head lightly. Now that she knew the Mermaid had abandoned her, her situation wasn’t much better than that of the down-and-out navy officer.
On an island this far from any regular shipping route—and not even marked on the charts—getting in touch with old friends was pure fantasy. All they could do was pray that a ship would get caught in a storm, blown off course, and happen to come their way, where they might somehow spot it.
Of course, that was unlikely too—far less likely than finding a genuine treasure at an underground gem market. At least those places occasionally had some big fool selling real treasures, only for the thugs running the market to knock him down and steal them.
“What else can we do? We can sit here like a pair of fools and pray the heavens take pity on us and send a ship our way… Even a crude single-masted wooden boat would do. Then we might at least have a chance of reaching Fran Island, the closest place to here.”
Fran Island is a barren little island far from the Empire, yet still within its borders. It has only one town with any real population, along with a few estates that nobles rent for their holidays. It’s known as the Orlan Empire’s dagger, pointed toward the Southern Islands.
Roy brushed aside a strand of hair that was beginning to irritate her more and more. “Until then, we need to stay alive as long as we can,” she said impatiently.
She’d said “we,” not “I.” Kain was a little surprised. In his current condition, he could only be a burden to her. On a deserted island, a person had a far better chance of surviving alone than while dragging an injured man along.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t save you because I have some secret motive.” Roy seemed to guess what the young man was wondering. She gave him a look that said he shouldn’t flatter himself and explained, “It’s just that, in a place like this, loneliness can sometimes be deadlier than a lack of food and fresh water.”
When the other man nodded as if he accepted her reasoning, a gleam flashed in Roy’s eyes. She leaned a little closer and whispered, “Hey, why don’t you become a pirate with me?”
Kain looked at her as if she were an idiot. Without changing his expression, he gently pushed her face away and coughed a few times. “Keep dreaming.”
“Hey, what’s with that attitude? I’m your lifesaver, you know. And you’ll be relying on me to look after you from now on. Couldn’t you at least be a little nicer?” Roy was thoroughly displeased.
“A navy commander turning pirate? Even the bards wouldn’t dare make up a story like that.”
“Isn’t that because your Orlan Empire would drag anyone who wrote a story like that off to prison?” Roy wouldn’t let it go.
“Not everything in this world has to do with power and coercion,” Kain argued, frowning.
“But everything has to do with profit, doesn’t it? Was my offer not good enough?” Roy narrowed her eyes and smiled as she bargained with him. “Once I’m back on my feet, you can be my second-in-command. Come on, being the second-in-command to the great Captain Roy has to be more impressive than being some low-ranking navy officer, right?”
Kain rubbed his aching temples. He suddenly felt the old navy hands had badly misjudged Captain Roy.
She wasn’t some brooding mastermind, nor was she a grand, fearless warlord who looked down on armies. She was just a scoundrel—the shameless sort.
Forget being an Imperial officer—even an ordinary navy sailor had been taught at the Orlan Military Academy and drilled in its ideals. Faced with a great pirate like Roy, held up as the very model of a villain, not drawing a sword and fighting to the death would already count as showing restraint. And yet she was trying to tempt him into becoming a pirate?
“How do you know I’m just a low-ranking officer? There’s no chance I’m becoming a pirate with you. As for what I owe you, I’ll find a chance to repay you, so don’t worry. We navy officers aren’t like pirates—we keep our word.”
“Think it over. How about we talk monthly pay? Three Punora gold coins a month. That’s enough to buy six bottles of fine Sirius wine. The navy only pays you one Punora gold coin a month, right?”
Unlike the unified Orlan Empire, Punora is a loose federation on the western side of the northern continent, made up of many member states. It’s the most economically developed region in the world today, so naturally, the gold coins minted by Punora have become hard currency everywhere. Sirius is one of Punora’s member states and the finest source of wine grapes.
“No.” The young man still wouldn’t budge.
“Then I’ll throw in room and board! It doesn’t get any better than that!” Roy gritted her teeth.
“Give it up, Captain.”
Their argument drifted along the island’s eastern shore and reached the Jackdaw, which was digging through the soil, picking out stones and looking for bugs to eat. It raised its head in confusion and gazed toward the sound. Was the captain fighting that navy officer? Why else would they be making so much noise? After puzzling over it for a while without coming to any conclusion, it lowered its head and pecked at the dirt again.
