“Board the ship!” Reeva yelled at the top of her lungs.
Her crew launched hooks at the crippled caravel. The hooks latched onto the wood, and they pulled the ropes hauling the ship towards them until the two ships collided. The men drew swords and pistols and loud war cries engulfed the deck as they jumped across and the battle began.
Reeva remained on the quarterdeck, scanning through the mayhem for her target, the captain. If she could bring him to surrender, his crew would follow, ending the bloodshed before losing too many men.
Between the smoke and the fighting crowd, a man caught her attention. He stood beside the wheel of his ship, shouting orders to his men, a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other.
Now the two of us, she thought, grabbed the closest hanging rope and swung across. Her feet landed hard on the worn wood with a thud loud enough for her enemy to hear and spun around with his pistol aiming at her. Reeva plunged aside just in time for the whistling sound of a bullet to pass above her head. She rolled onto her back, drew her pistol and fired at the captain marching towards her, his sword raised. The bullet grazed his shoulder, forcing him to take a step backwards, buying Reeva just enough time to stand up. She unsheathed her sword before her enemy swung his. She blocked the upcoming strike inches from her neck.
The force of the impact pushed Reeva backwards, and her heel hit her rail. She took hold of the rail and hauled her legs up, kicking her adversary in the guts as he raised his sword to strike again. The man tried to steady himself, but she punched him on the side of his head with her hilt.
Her opponent landed on all four and Reeva pulled her second pistol and aimed at him. “Surrender, and I’ll spare you and your crew,” she ordered.
The man’s eyes wandered to the main deck, where the battle was in full swing. Bodies already piled up; pools of blood ran spreading on the wooden planks.
“They’ll fire me and my crew,” he said and pressed one hand against his bleeding head.
“You can get another job. You can’t get another life. End this massacre before it’s too late.” Reeva cocked her pistol.
The captain stared at her, defeat written in his eyes. They were a merchant ship crew, not soldiers. They were on the losing side either way.
“Surrender,” he said through his teeth, but no one heard him. “Surrender!” he yelled, his voice breaking through the cacophony of clashing metal and screams. One by one, his men froze and let their weapons fall to the ground.
Reeva looked down at her cheering crew and savour the moment for an instance and turned her attention back to the captain. “You did the right thing, now get up.”
At gunpoint, she gestured for him to stand up and walk down the stairs.
On the quarterdeck, the captain and his crew were pushed into a corner and forced down on their knees with hands behind their head.
“Fucking pirates,” a tall, muscular man hissed, blood running from a large cut travelling down his left arm. “The High Empire will make you regret every breath you’ve taken to this day.”
“Jackson. Enough!” his captain cut him off.
“I wish I could be there when they hang you,” the man called Jackson continued, his eyes fixed upon Reeva. She held his gaze and walked toward him. “Especially you.” He tilled his chin in her direction, “I’m sure they’re gonna have a lovely time--”
Reeva’s fist met his jaw before he finished his sentence. Jackson spat blood and faced her again. “They are coming for you.” He looked at the crew gathered around, a bloody grin on his face, “For all of you.”
“Shut your mouth Jackson!” his captain ordered him again.
Reeva chuckled in response. Many prisoners had made the same threat before, hoping that their beloved Empire will come to their rescue burning inside them.
Kill him…
She slowly crouched in front of him, her eyes never leaving his. Hatred filled the man’s eyes, but it didn’t phase her. She was used to it, and if anything, she understood it. The man was about to lose everything
“Let them try,” she said, her voice calm. “It’ll be our pleasure to cut their throats one by one. We rule those waters and there is nothing they can do about it.”
Jackson spat in her face. Reeva grabbed the small dagger hidden in her boot and placed it on his throat. She pressed the blade just hard enough for him to feel the sharp pain of the metal digging into his skin, but not enough to draw blood.
Kill him…
A cold chill ran down her spine but she didn’t dare take her eyes off of the men.
“I can show you what will happen to anyone who tries to get in our way. What do you say?” she whispered in his ear.
Kill him…
And there it was. Faced with the prospect of certain death the man’s bravado faded away. She realised her grip and his gaze turned to the floor as he bowed his head.
“That’s what I thought,” Reeva put her blade back in her boot and swipe the spit off her cheek. “All right lads,” she stood up and looked at her crew, “I want five of you watching those men. The rest of you, empty hull.”
Voices and the echoing sound of boots running around now filled the silent and tense atmosphere, as her crew got to work. She had only made two steps away from the prisoners when she heard Jackson’s voice whispering amongst the agitation, “Fucking deathwitch bitch. I’ll have your head…”
She froze. Her lighter skin could pass for High Empire but her silver hair will always betray her heritage. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, she had hoped that Jackson will keep his ego in check, but he didn’t.
Kill him…
Her sword was out of her hilt as she turned around. Jackson’s eyes widen as the realisation that his words have reached her ears. But before he could protest Reeva brought her sword down. Blood splashed her face and the hollow sound of the man’s head hitting the deck stop everyone in their tracks.
“If I hear as much as a loud breath you’ll meet your fellow’s fate. Are we clear?”
All prisoners stared in awe at their mate’s blood slowly spread on the wooden deck but no one dared to answer.
Reeva wiped the blood on her breeches and put the sword back in its hilt.
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