Lifelong brothers are often made unexpectedly. Supposedly Saltbeard met Deadeye Hannigan while getting a shave.

  -Excerpt from ‘Lesser Known Misadventures of Castell Saltbeard’ by Grolsh Wright

  Rose woke with a start, jolting upright and smacking her head into a wooden beam. A flash of pain sparked through her head and her vision blurred.

  She sat upright, head on a swivel and reaching for the kitchen knife. She was wearing unfamiliar clothes that scratched at her sunburnt skin. She patted the mattress. Straw.

  The blanket was woven from the same rough wool as the uncomfortable trousers and shirt. Rose didn’t have a clue where she was, only a banging headache and the faint memory of waving the knife at… the merchant ship!

  Her mother’s kitchen knife was missing, its whereabouts unknown. Rose assumed she was onboard the ship she’d tried to… raid… in her dehydrated delirium.

  A flush of embarrassment reddened her cheeks as she thought about that. At least she wasn’t tied up and as far as she could tell from the sparse yet clean room, she wasn’t a prisoner.

  Despite the lack of luxury it was the comfiest she had been since leaving home. Mostly due to her own stupidity, but having an actual bed rather than the hard bed of a fishing boat felt delightful. For a while she lay back against the firm pillow, basking in the musky scents of the unfamiliar ship.

  Rose traced the knots on the wooden walls with her finger, admiring the craftsmanship. Suddenly a young man burst into the room, slamming the door against the hull. His eyes widened when he saw she was awake, but she also noticed… relief?

  A tingle of salt wafted under her nose and the gentle rocking of the ship was relaxing. She managed a smile, cocking her head to one side as she observed the youth. “Hello, would you mind telling me where I am?” she asked.

  “You’re awake!” the boy exclaimed, an expectant expression on his round face, cheeks tinged scarlet.

  “I am. Did you rescue me? Thank you,” she replied honestly. A few more hours on that fishing boat and she might not have made it.

  “No, it wasn’t me. Well not just me. The crew all pitched in to bring you on board. You were in a bad way, but it seems like you’re much better now,” he spluttered, tripping over his tongue in his rush to speak. “You look much healthier now. I’m Felix, by the way. Felix Klupp. What’s your name? And why were you miles out to sea in a fishing boat without any gear?” he continued to ramble and Rose got a little lost.

  “That’s a lot at once, Felix,” she giggled. “One question at a time, please.”

  “Sorry, the captain says I can be a bit excitable sometimes.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Even if it wasn’t you alone, thanks for helping me out. I think I would’ve been a goner if not for your timely arrival. I’m still quite dehydrated. Some water would be amazing if you have any to spare?” she asked.

  “Here,” he said, taking a leather waterskin from his belt and passing it over.

  Rose took a few deep gulps, draining half of the water. After that she paused briefly then took one more gulp for good measure. Perhaps it was overzealous, but she had gone almost two days without water and her body was in dire need of rehydration.

  “And some food. Fruit would be perfect, but I’d settle for some fish,” she asked, knowing she might be pushing her luck. They wouldn’t save me just to let me starve, she hoped.

  “I’ll talk to the chef and see what I can do. The captain’s a generous man, but you might need to come to an arrangement with him. This is a merchant corporation after all, we wouldn’t turn a profit if we fed every stray soul we rescued. Not that we rescue people that often. You’re the first, actually,” he told her, then scrunched up his face. “I’m not sure why I said that. I’ll stop rambling now.”

  “It’s endearing,” she giggled, liking the boy already. “You might want to take some time to put your thoughts in order before they leave your mouth, though. A pleasure to meet you Felix, my name is Rose,” she said while offering a hand in greeting. “As for what I was doing out here? I was embarking on an adventure—sailing the high seas is my dream. I just messed up my preparation a little.”

  She had intentionally twisted the truth so as not to alarm him. This was a merchant vessel, after all. It wouldn’t be smart to introduce herself as an aspiring pirate—even without any notable misdeeds under her belt. That would be a surefire way to land herself in trouble.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  “Beautiful,” Felix exclaimed all of a sudden.

  Rose felt her cheeks flushing at the remark. It wasn’t often she was complimented. Spending most of your time knee deep in fish and with dirty doori would do that.

  “Ah! Your name, I meant. It’s beautiful. Not you. Wait no, damn it Felix. You’re beautiful, too. Average. Not ugly,” he finished, looking mortified.

  “Felix. Take a breath. It’s okay, I’m not offended,” she chuckled.

  She was a little upset that he hadn't meant to compliment her though. Her name was something given, so while she agreed it was quite beautiful, it didn’t feel as good to be complimented on it.

  “Sorry. Excitable. I’m working on it. Let’s backtrack. I can relate to that feeling,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I left home for something of an adventure too, but found myself working for a merchant corporation ferrying goods between various nations in this part of the world. Not quite what I had in mind, but my boyhood dreams were always a little fanciful. I still get to travel and see plenty of interesting places,” he sighed, a faraway look in his eyes.

  “Can you stand? I’ll take you to the kitchen and we can see about getting you some food.”

  Rose paused for a moment, letting everything sink in. He looked young, between nineteen and twenty-one. Depending on which nation he hailed from that could’ve made him an adult for a few years already.

  Six if he was from the Emerlan Isle. Though he didn’t have the weathered hardiness of her countryfolk. The only thing more stubborn than an old doori were the people herding them.

  It wasn’t rare for a youngster to want to set sail and seek fame and glory on the seas. Not everyone had to be a pirate, but all knew that true fortune could only be obtained once you set sail.

  Like Rose, many did desire a life of buccaneering. Others were staunch patriots who sought a star studded career in the navy of their homeland. Then there were the real money grubbers—entrepreneurial types who built merchant empires from scraps.

  It took all kinds of fish to fill an ocean.

  She wondered what kind of dreams Felix had that led him to venture out into the deep blue. He’d dropped some hints of his past, weaving a tale that she wanted to hear more of. Right now though, she wanted to eat.

  After a moment she stood up, taking his offered hand in support and leaning against a wooden post that ran from the ceiling to the floor of the cramped room. It felt like every muscle in her body ached, protesting against their use.

  Getting moving again was important to her recovery. And the prospect of a meal, even if it was just a light one of fruit and fish, was fabulous motivation to get moving once more.

  Felix led the way, pulling her along. He had either forgotten he was holding her hand or was one of those confident social types. Rose didn’t mind.

  As they walked she marvelled at her surroundings. The brigantine was nothing special as far as merchant ships went. However, it was her first time on a vessel bigger than a fishing boat and the intricacies of it drew her in.

  The quality of the wood wasn’t out of the ordinary, but every plank had been carved along the grain with precise cuts before being joined together seamlessly.

  The ship was weathered, but not dishevelled. A few years spent in action from Rose’s estimates—this was likely the first vessel of a nascent corporation, just beginning their venture.

  They passed another member of the crew, older than Felix by a year or two. It seemed like this was an ambitious and young merchant group.

  Not a bad place for her journey to begin. Not the adventurous pirate crew she was hoping for, but Rose wouldn’t mind spending some time aboard the vessel and getting to grips with being at sea—and learning how to sail.

  She had grown up around seafaring men and women, but her own knowledge of how to run a ship was lacking. Learning the ropes for a year or two under someone experienced would do her a world of good.

  Felix pushed open a door, gripping a handle made from polished brass. A lesser ship would have used steel for the metalwork—the owner of this one had wealth lining their pockets.

  Sunlight flared as she passed into the open air and Rose had to raise an arm to shield her eyes. After a week spent under the cover of grey clouds and around a day inside that cabin, they weren’t ready for the intense brightness.

  After she had adjusted Rose looked around the magnificent ship. The deck was sparkling and as she watched, a boy around her own age scrubbed it clean with a bucket and cloth.

  The masts were thick, towering pillars of smooth wood that made the fishing boat seem pitiful in comparison. The sails were cerulean blue, with golden stripes and larger than her house.

  They had walked out onto a small deck near the top of the ship and Felix led her down a small staircase to the main deck. Once they arrived he waved at the rest of the crew, including the boy scrubbing the decks. “You missed a spot, Reuben,” he teased.

  All of them were young, with the eldest being no more than thirty if she had to guess. A few sported tattoos, poking out from under their tailored outfits. The more she saw of this ship and crew, the closer she was to understanding the full picture. All she needed now was to meet the captain.

  Felix led her back inside the bowels of the ship after introducing her to the people on deck, leaving the light of day behind. She’d wanted to bask in the sunlight after a week spent in the dreary cold, but her stomach growled in protest. She had other priorities right now.

  They weaved their way through a few near identical corridors, making their way deeper inside the ship. Soon she heard a rhythmic tapping echoing through the walls.

  They drew closer to the source of the sound with every step. Finally, they passed through a doorway and she found where it was coming from.

  A chef stood over a wooden chopping board, dicing onions with expert precision. Each cut was the same distance apart and there was zero hesitation in his movement. He didn’t look up from the task, continuing to chop as he greeted them.

  “Come to raid my pantry again, Felix? Have you got a bottomless void in that stomach of yours or have you been hiding leftovers for your midnight feasts?” he asked with a booming chuckle, eyes remaining locked on his task. All of a sudden he raised his hand and launched something at them.