If they were low on supplies and ran into a vessel that was easy picking, Ace gave the order to pull alongside with no hesitation. When it came to proper care and navigation of her sloop, Ace’s word was law. But when courses of action were less clear, when risk potentially outweighed reward, the group operated as a democracy. It was one of the reasons the crew respected her so highly.
“I’m sure you’ve all spotted the Spanish vessel on the horizon,” she said. “We need to decide whether we overtake her or continue on our way. She’s a merchant vessel, likely standard procedure. We’re about 10 days out from Azores, maybe more. We’re still well-supplied, but every bit helps, as you all know.
“However, we are also in open water, days from the nearest shore. The boat you see on the horizon has spotted us as well and has had ample time to consider their course of action. There is always a risk of things not going well, and we do not have a chain of islands to get lost in if we’re outmaneuvered.”
Ace spread her hands in front of her, inviting the crew to share their thoughts. A few did. Overwhelmingly, a concern for supplies (and the hope of some fancy loot from the expensive-looking vessel) took the day. When Ace called for a vote, Zander did not raise his hand in favor of attack. Neither did Yarrow, or Theo. But fourteen of the crew members did.
“It’s settled, then,” Ace said. “I want everyone at their best.” She took a moment to look around, meeting each crew member’s eye. “We take no chances. No fucking around. Get in, get out, and we row out of here like it’s our fucking job. Got it?”
She was met by a chorus of agreement from the crew.
“LET’S GO!” shouted Yarrow, and the crew sprung into action, the best rowers headed below deck and everyone else to their respective positions.
Ace touched Yarrow’s arm, giving them a significant look. She mouthed the words be careful before she walked away to man the helm, her eyes focused across the water as she aimed them toward their fate.
The raid began normally. As they got closer, Zander could see the carving at the bow was of an octopus. The black flag was raised, a warning shot fired, and Ace demanded the captain be brought on board. He prepared himself to leave with the group that would board the vessel, but Ace held him back.
“Zander,” she said, and waved him over to her. When he approached, she lowered her voice. “I want you here this time. I need you to handle the captain so I can keep a sharper eye on things. Can you do that?”
Zander nodded. “Of course.”
Ace nodded back, her expression steady aside from the worry lines creasing her forehead. “Thank you,” she said to him. She turned to the crew, scanning the crowd before shouting, “Thomas! Go over in Zander’s stead.”
Thomas gave a curt nod in response.
Minutes later, the captain of the merchant vessel boarded The Valerian, along with one of his sailors. He was a tall man. His greying hair was cut short, and he wore a handsome dark blue uniform. His clean-shaven face wore an expression of boredom mixed with disgust.
As he stepped foot on the vessel, the man moved as little of his body as humanly possible. His chin jutted out, his hands stiff at his sides, and he managed not to look a single person in the eye. Zander directed him to the center of the deck, using the firing end of his pistol to point, as he’d seen Ace do so many times before. The sailor beside him trailed along nervously, his hands raised meekly in the air.
“On your knees,” Zander said, his voice leaving no room for argument. The sailor was on his knees before he finished speaking, and George had his hands swiftly tied behind his back. The captain, however, made no move—he simply stood there, gazing out at his vessel with a look of haughty distaste. Zander kicked the back of one of his legs, forcing him to fall. The man’s lip curled as he fell roughly to his knees, but otherwise he gave no indication that Zander or any of the rest of them existed. He simply folded his hands behind his back and continued to stare ahead.
Zander positioned himself beside the merchant captain and slightly behind him, his pistol pointed at his head. He chanced a glance at Ace. She was standing at the forecastle, her eyes laser-focused on the merchant vessel as the raiding crew prepared to board. The sailors manning the swivel guns shared her intensity, their shoulders squared tensely as they looked for any sign of trouble.
As Zander watched the raid unfold, his pistol now firmly positioned against the back of the captain’s head for good measure, a growing sense of unease overtook him. He couldn’t place where it was coming from. Perhaps it was Ace’s words of warning to the crew. Or the intensity of the man before him, reluctantly on his knees.
He looked again at Ace. She stood still as a statue, her face obscured beyond the rigging, but when he laid his eyes on her, his anxiety only increased. He wondered briefly if he was picking up on her own feelings about the raid and whatever mystery was causing her to act so strangely.
His attention was pulled from Ace by a commotion across the water. He scanned the vessel. Thomas was being hauled from the lower deck by the scruff of his shirt by Theo. Yarrow emerged just behind them, their sword drawn.
Zander tensed. Thomas shouldn’t have been below deck at all. Zander had long since taken on the role of dismantling the rigging during raids, preventing their targets from making chase. As a competent sailor himself, Thomas was a logical choice to replace him. He should have understood his role.
Zander grew more nervous by the second during the long wait for their crew to finally disable the sails and make it back to The Valerian. By the time they were in the longboats, Ace was pacing back and forth on the forecastle.
The first boat returned, and the pirates that boarded wore expressions of delight.
Santiago crested the side of the boat and looked directly at the merchant captain, a wide smile on his face as he gestured behind him, his curls bouncing around his head.
“Some fine wares you’re transporting, Captain!” he said, laughing.
Ace approached the men that had returned, peering over the edge to see the rest of the crew heading back—including Thomas, Theo, and Yarrow.
“What happened?” she asked Bagu, who was lifting a large chest over the railing with Saila’s help.
Bagu shook his head. “I don’t know, Cap,” he said. “Yarrow said it’s a matter for the captain, and to focus on the job.” He gestured to the chest with his chin as they set it down. “And focus we did,” he said loudly, a triumphant smile on his face.
He was met by a round of excited cheers from the crew members that stayed behind, eliciting a grunt of derision from the merchant captain—the first sign he’d shown of being alive in many long minutes.
“We’ll celebrate later,” Ace said, clapping Bagu on the arm good-naturedly, a grim expression on her face.
When the rest of the crew boarded, they had loot as well, but not all of them wore the proud expressions that spoke of a rich payday. Yarrow’s eyes burned like fire as they climbed on deck and turned to watch Thomas board next, Theo close behind him.
As soon as Thomas’s feet hit the deck, Yarrow had him on his knees, the end of their sword pointed at his heart.
Yarrow didn’t look away from Thomas as they spoke. Zander had never seen them look so menacing. A chill ran down his spine at the way they seemed to nearly vibrate with rage.
“He was caught below deck with a woman,” they bit out when Ace approached.
Zander saw Ace’s hand tighten around the handle of her blade.
“A willing woman?” she said, her voice low. She looked from Yarrow to Thomas, her gaze whipping toward him like a striking serpent.
“Unwilling,” Yarrow answered. “I intervened before he could do more than scare the poor girl. But his intentions were clear.”
The merchant sailor still kneeling beside his captain was struggling with the ties on his hands, his breathing heavy.
“Juliana?” he said, his eyes wide with fear. His captain continued to stare ahead, determined not to look a single pirate in the face.
“She’s fine,” Yarrow said to the sailor. “Shaken up, but whole.”
