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I was given more water and some bread in the morning. It didn’t even take the edge off my hunger, but I had a feeling complaining wouldn’t go over well.
We were almost to Chiari. The sailors prepped for arrival by loading their rifles, sharpening sabers, and stashing extra weapons around the deck.
They were not anticipating a peaceful welcome.
The higher the sun rose, the more certain I was that people would get hurt today. Not just the crew on this ship, but whoever greeted us in Chiari. These men meant business.
Around mid-morning, Captain Ryan and the first mate joined the helmsman on the top deck. The ship slowed, and sailors scurried into the rigging to furl excess sails and protect them from stray gun fire.
Another hour, and sails from another ship rose beside us, flying a dark blue flag with my family crest in bright silver.
Ropes were sent across to connect the ships, and a gangplank set up across the rails. Ryan met the new captain and his first mate at the rail.
Ryan’s first mate stood beside me, knife concealed in his vest but in easy reach.
The new captain carefully crossed the gangplank, keeping hold of a rope from his ship while on the boards. “Good morning!” he greeted. He had a clean-shaven face and dark hair, and barely looked older than me. He and the rest of his crew all wore dark blue guard uniforms, but he had the gold trimmings on his shoulders to designate his rank.
I was surprised to recognize him. That was Captain Wilde, one of the youngest people to ever reach that rank at only twenty years old. I’d been with my father when he was awarded his first ship last year, the W.S. Tachsif.
“Morning, Captain,” Ryan greeted. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m going to need you to adjust your navigation six degrees west; flying over the palace is prohibited,” Wilde said, skipping any pleasantries this sort of thing normally required.
Did he know something was wrong already?
“Ah, I’d love to, but the palace is actually our destination,” Ryan said. “I’ve got business with the king and queen.”
Wilde’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t looked around the ship yet, otherwise he’d have spotted me. Or had he noticed me before and wanted Ryan to think he hadn’t?
“In that case,” Wilde said, “you’ll need to dock in the river and provide the proper forms.”
“You don’t understand,” Ryan said, stepping back and drawing his pistol. With a sweeping gesture, he drew Wilde’s eyes to me. “I need to go directly to the palace, and you’re not going to stop me.” He aimed the pistol at Wilde’s face.
Wilde made eye contact with me, as calm and collected as he’d been the whole time. This turn of events hadn’t surprised him even a little.
“I’ll give you one chance to surrender now. There won’t be another offer of mercy,” Wilde said.
Ryan laughed. “I’m not the one who will need it.”
Sighing, Wilde cocked his head. “Very well, then. Men! Secure the Prince!”
The man beside me drew his knife and stuck it under my chin.
It was shot out of his hand a moment later by a woman on the other ship, peeking over the rail at the stern.
With the direct threat to me handled, chaos erupted. Men from Wilde’s ship threw their own lines and boarded Ryan’s ship. The crew met them with steel and gunfire.
Wilde fought Ryan himself with a saber. He’d already cut Ryan’s gun hand, and the pistol had fallen out of his grasp and been knocked aside.
Next to me, the first mate cursed and shook out his hand, drawing his saber to meet the man in dark blue racing towards us. It took three moves for the sailor to disarm the first mate, and then he slammed the hilt of his saber into the first mate’s temple. The man crumpled to the ground, groaning.
“Your Highness,” the sailor greeted, slicing through the ropes. He had dirty blond hair, and a goatee wrapping around his mouth. “Officer Havoc, at your service. I’m going to get you over to our ship.”
I shook out my arms. “Thank you, but there’s someone else we have to get first. He was taken below deck.”
Havoc grimaced. “One of the others can get him, we need to get you somewhere safe.”
“I’m not leaving without him,” I stated.
Havoc’s gaze caught something to the left, and then he pushed me down to the deck. A stray bullet sank into the mast. “Sir, I really insist you leave this ship immediately.”
I pushed him off me. “Your orders are to protect the prince, right? Well guess what, there are two princes, and the second one is below deck!”
His mouth dropped open. “That’s not...”
“Now are you going to help?” I asked.
Havoc threw his head back and sighed. “Fine. Stay low, stay close, and be quick.”
I nodded and picked up the knife that had been shot out of the first mate’s hand. It wasn’t much, but against actual trained fighters, I didn’t stand much of a chance anyway. Better to have a small, easier to use weapon than something that would get torn out of my grasp within seconds.
Sheathing his saber, he brandished a pistol in each hand and led the way to the stairs. Ryan’s crew was still attempting to keep Wilde’s men from boarding, and most of the fight was happening on the starboard rail. Only a few had scattered around the rest of the deck.
A man charged up the stairs. Havoc didn’t hesitate before shooting him in the face.
I made a strangled wheezing sound.
“Don’t look at the body,” Havoc said, and after making sure no one else was coming, he guided me down the stairs ahead of him.
“Was that necessary?” I asked in a voice too high to be my own. How was he able to kill a man so easily? The kingdom wasn’t at war, how would he have practice?
He pushed me along. “Now we know he won’t be a threat. Do you know where they took...your brother?”
“I...no, I don’t, but...” I glanced back at the body, but Havoc blocked my view.
“They’ve got to have a brig...it’s usually the bottom level, come on.”
We ran into a few more hiding crewmen, but the fight never lasted long. Havoc shot to kill, preventing most of the crewmen from even raising their swords in the first place.
When we reached the lowest level, there were sounds of fighting. A man swore, and then Ace burst into the hallway.