Fear of the Crow (Jacquotte 'Red' and Troylus) @ali

The Sea Sprite, the deep sea trawler that Troylus had worked on since he was very small, listed to the side, weighed down by the heavy nets, full of their catch, and the crates below deck that they’d picked up on a quiet almost deserted beach a few weeks ago. Troylus still didn’t know what was in them, and dared not look. Captain had made it abundantly clear that anyone going snooping would sorely regret it for the rest of their miserable existence.

The young man turned to face into the wind, and relished the spray of cold water on his face. The sun was almost fully above the horizon now, but obscured by heavy grey clouds. He’d been working hard swabbing the deck, and he felt hot despite the cold wind. His back ached a little, as it had done for a few weeks. He’d grown too tall and broad for his tiny cot and the cramped conditions were making him ache all day now. But he wasn’t one to complain. That didn’t get you anywhere on the Sea Sprite.

He noted a squall on the horizon and quickly calculated the likelihood of it reaching them and the risks it might bring with it. He decided it warranted at least informing the helmsman of the situation. The first mate, Nate Sarason was steering, oblivious to the threat on the horizon and charging straight into it, even changing course to meet it more directly.

Troylus cleared his throat, making sure his voice was loud enough to get over the sound of the wind, but not so loud as to seem rude to his superior officer. “Sir, the storm, the squall. We’re heading right into it, sir.”

Without taking his eyes off his task the old man snarled in response. “I know that y’idiot, boy. But we gotta get away from THAT,” he jabbed his stubby thumb behind them, and Troylus peered in that direction, scanning for what was so troubling the man that he would charge them into dangerous water. He saw a dot that was obviously a ship, but with his naked eye he couldn’t make out any details.

“Can I use your binoculars, please, sir?” He reached a tentative hand for the device still hanging around Nate’s shoulders.

“No!” he snapped furiously. “Go rouse the crew. All hands on deck, damn you, boy!”

Troylus snapped a salute, and silently wondered why Nate hadn’t sounded the alarm himself. He was obviously pretty worried. Troylus jogged sure footedly on the pitching deck to the bell and rang it, bringing the rest of the men above deck within a minute or so. Aldrinalin, their newest crew member looked pale and sick, obviously not enjoying the rougher seas as the storm built in intensity.

Captain McGabe emerged last, looking bleary eyed and dishevelled. It was unusual to see him on deck at this point in the voyage. By the time they were heading back to port with a full cargo hold he would usually stay in his cabin, drinking himself into oblivion. Even after all these years Troylus still didn’t know what it was he was trying to forget in his alcoholic stupor. The man stumbled up to the helm, and Troylus respectfully stood nearby in case he needed the physical support. He clutched hold of his arm a few times to steady himself, more from his intoxication that the movement of the ship. “What’s the meaning of this? I didn’t order a change of course!” he slurred angrily at the first mate.

Nate handed his captain the binoculars and pointed at the growing dot behind them. “Gotta outrun her into the storm, Captain.”

The captain focused on the dot and drew in a ragged breath. He lowered the binoculars slowly and swore, long and loud. “We’ll never outrun her, we’re too low in the water.”

“What’s wrong Captain?” Aldrinalin peered over the rail straining to make out any details.

“The Crow.” The Captain’s words sounded ominous and foreboding and a thrill of fear passed over the crew like a ghostly presence.

After a long silence Liam, one of the older crew members spoke up, “Ain’t that Captain Hayes ship?”

The captain shook his head, “Nay. Hayes were hanged a whiles back for piracy.” He gulped audibly, “Now they say his daughter, Red, captains the Crow.”

Aldrinalin scoffs derisively, “A woman? Why are we running from a girl?”

McGabe ignored him and started barking orders, trying to get this old hulk of a ship to move faster. Troylus and the crew worked as fast as they could, following every order instantly, but it was no good. The larger vessel soon closed the distance, drawing up behind them, full sails billowing against the nearly black stormy sky.

Troylus paused in what he was doing to look up at the looming ship next to them, and saw the silhouette of a woman on the deck looking down at them. Her wild hair billowed out all around her head and even in the low light he could see the bright colour that gave her her name. “Red…” he breathed, with a mixture of trepidation and awe.