Dragonfire Sea

Bennett emerged on deck into the bright sunlight, blinking. One of the rare sunny days during this time of year. He immediately scanned his crew, looking over their activity. Several on duty snapped into action upon seeing him, suspiciously busier than they had been moments before. Those enjoying off-time were scattered about the main deck in clusters, playing dice mostly. He spotted a game of Rue at the foredeck.

His eyes fell on the figure, straight as a rod, standing at the railing. He harrumphed at the sigh of her. No doubt she—

"Afternoon, Captain." Jonah sidled up to him. "I've—"

"How long's she been standing there?"

"Oh." Jonah stopped short, looking in Cat's direction. "Better part of an hour, I think."

Bennett frowned. "Any trouble from the crew?"

"The crew?! She's the one that gives the trouble, Cap—" Bennett narrowed his eyes. Jonah cleared his throat. "No. Nothin' more than suspicious looks."

"Good." He gave a nod to dismiss Jonah, though he knew his first mate had buisness to discuss. It could wait 'til later. He strode across the deck and stopped beside the woman who'd become the biggest inconvenience the sea had to offer.

He'd fought many a ship's battle on this deck. Killed assailants who dared to sink him. Run every kind of cargo from priceless Ice Metal to illegal contraband. But something made him hesitate when he stopped beside Cat.

Even at a side view she looked...like hell, despite her uncommonly pretty features. Her face was pale. Her hair in disarray. Her clothes wrinkled. But it was more than that. It wasn't the look of someone who'd had a rough past couple of days—and she had, certainly. It was the look of someone who'd had their entire life tipped on end.

She said nothing at his appearance, staring ahead as if he didn't exist. The land was so far away that it was a flat smudge on the horizon. She pretended to watch it.

He chewed on his tongue, eager to say something cutting and harsh. Instead— "You feeling any better?"

"What do you want?"

There it was—that tone. He was certain she'd used often throughout her life. He sighed. "What I want, is to know if you're feeling better, girl."

She turned to sneer at him. "What do you think, Captain? Do I look better?"

Truthfully, no. But he wasn't going to say that. She'd heaved up her guts for the first three days at sea. Refused to come on deck for most of that time, until Jonah convinced her she'd feel better with fresh air. At least she wasn't carting a bucket around with her anymore.

"Well?"

He shrugged. "Hard to say, which is why I thought to ask."

She snorted. "I do not see how I can be better, so long as I'm stuck on this gods' forsaken—"

"I could toss you over the side, if you like." He pictured her hauled up and over, screaming, and chuckled. "It would do us all a favor, I think."

"I'd like to see you try." Dismissive, she turned to leave. He grabbed her arm, rooting her to the spot. Her face transformed, eyes blazing. She uttered a word and he yelped, pulling back his hand, burned.

Magic.

"You would dare?!" he hissed.

"Touch me again and I'll do worse."

He sputtered and watched her go, quite stunned. She'd used magic—against him! She dared.

"Prickly as an urchin," he muttered. No. On second thought. She was worse. He watched her retreat. She settled herself at the back of the ship, as far as possible from where he stood.

He quickly glanced about, eyes falling on Emmon and Tris, who'd both stopped scrubbing seagull shit off the deck to watch.

"Well," his eyes narrowed. "I don't pay you to stand around and gawk, do I?"

They quickly returned to their work.

Despite her piss-poor attitude, against his better judgement, he stalked across the main deck and went straight for her, this time, leaning his lanky frame against the railing. He propped an elbow up to support his weight and faced her. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we, Cat? You must be barking mad for wanting to go north. I don't know why I feel the need to talk you out of a stupid idea, but I do. Why don't you let us drop you off in Redport, eh? Or if you must go farther, Kurtcastle?"

"You simply cannot stop yourself, can you, Captain?" Her jaw worked. Clenched. Unclenched. Her eyes flashed, but she didn't deign to look down at him, leaning against the rail where he might get a better look at her pretty face. Such good looks...wasted.

"I suppose I can't," he admitted. "Not one of my better qualities." He flashed her a grin, hoping his efforts might get under her skin—deep under. Hopefully as deep as she burrowed into his. If she hadn't offered to pay so much for her passage....

"Better qualities?" She tutted. "I wasn't aware you had any."

"Hmm..." He feigned thoughtfulness. "It seems your windowless room has done nothing for your mood. Not too late to move in to my cabin, you know. I promise I don't bite. Not as hard as you, anyway."

"You're disgusting," she hissed. "A scoundrel. A nobody. Is this the kind of charm you use on women? I can't imagine a single one taking the bait."

"Hah! I think you forget who you address, girl. Disgusting? Scoundrel? Nobody? Those are all compliments, far as I'm concerned! Besides,"—she opened her mouth but he didn't let her get a word in—"when was the last time you seen a mirror? Hmm? As for my charm, I save that for real women, women who matter."

There. That one hit home. She blinked. A slight pink crept into her cheeks. Otherwise, she gave no sign that his words had come as a blow. He chuckled and added, "If you don't want to tell me why you're going north, fine. I won't try to talk you out of it, if that's the case. I can't say I'll be sad to see you freeze to death in Ice Port."

"Then I don't see what the problem is," she snapped. This time he could sense her anger rising.

He smiled, pleased. "You're right. No problem whatsoever, Cat." With that, he left her, glad to have succeeded—even if it was only a small measure of it.

When he walked past Carson at the helm, he almost...almost told him to redirect their course, to take them farther from land into choppier waters, if only to enjoy the pleasure of seeing Cat more miserable.

***

The following day, they reached Scattered Island Bay, cutting through the waters, navigating the bits of land. After a quick knock at his cabin door, a head popped in. "Forgive me, Captain, but is there a reason we're stopping in Tortalia?" Jonah stepped in, shutting the door behind him. "The men are falling over themselves with excitement."

"I suspect they are." Bennett perused his maps, not bothering to look up. He'd marked places along the coast—a total of six infamous ports. The thought left him giddy with glee.

"But...why?"

"Supplies, Jonah. And because none of us like being at sea for long."

Jonah's jaw dropped. "You cannot be series, Captain. We've been at sea for four days. And we have supplies. Our plan was—"

"I know what our plan was, Jonah. Plans change."

Jonah hesitated. Then his eyes widened. "We're dropping her off, aren't we, right in the gods' armpit?!"

"Hah! I wish. No. Supplies and a bit of fun for the night."

Jonah moved over to the map then, noticed the pins, and cursed under his breath. "Tell me this isn't what I think it is."

Bennett chuckled then. "It's exactly what you think it is."

"She's not going to like this, Captain. Not one bit."

"No, I dare say she won't." He'd chosen the seediest scoundrel ports along the coast, with Tortalia being one of the worst of them. But none was worse than Bagradas. Oh, she'd be positively seething to set foot in that shit hole. He planned to dock there for two nights. Important buisness and all that, for all she needed to know.

A fist pounded on his door. He looked up at Jonah and grinned.

"Right on cue," his first mate announced. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Say, you don't mind if I listen outside the door, do you?"

"Be my guest. Now, let her in."

Jonah complied. Cat stormed in, steaming with fury. Jonah made himself scarce, closing the door behind him.

He feigned surprise, looking up. "Ah. Cat. Have you had a change of heart? It's a nice cabin, nay? I can move my trunk if you—"

"Cut the shit, Captain. You never told me we'd be stopping. I paid you to take me to Ice Port. What is the meaning of this?"

"Huh." He leaned back against his chair, stroked his chin, looked thoughtful. "Could have sworn I mentioned it when we struck our deal. You want to keep eating, don't ya? We're going to need supplies. Besides, this is Beaky's homeland. Wouldn't miss the chance to let her stretch her wings. She might want to say hi to some of her friends."

Cat sputtered.

As if the damn bird had heard him, her beak tapped on the port window. He chuckled and let her in. Cat screeched at the sight of her, moving across the room, eying the bird with distaste.

"Come now, girl. She doesn't bite as hard as you. Here—" With Beaky on his arm, he moved over to stand by Cat. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. She said nothing, didn't move to stroke Beaky's head. Nothing. "Well that's rather rude," he said at last, sending Beaky to her perch.

"I will pay you extra to forgo this stop."

"You will, will you? And what about the other stops? Can you pay for those too."

"The other—?"

"There are six, total."

"Six?" she hissed. "Is this some kind of...joke?"

"Hardly, but you're welcome to find a new ship captain when we drop anchor in Tortalia. We should be there in the next hour or so."

"Maybe I will," she said, crossing her arms.

He laughed then. "Gods. That will be worth every coin you've paid me, seeing you attempt to broker passage. You know it's naught but pirates that frequent Tortalia, right? Can't wait to see what they make of you!"

"How dare—"

"Oh I dare. In fact, unless you need to, I suggest you stay on board while we go landside. I'm not interested in makin sure your ladyhood stays in tact. I got better things to do."

"What—I—you wouldn't dare!" He ignored her stuttering and shrugged. "I'm going ashore," she demanded. "If we stop, I'm not staying on this pile of wood. I can take care of myself quite well. Unless you need another demonstration like yesterday's?"

He shrugged at the reminder, even if it left him uneasy. "No, thank you. Use magic against me again and I will leave you in whatever port we stop at next."

"Fine," she hissed. "But I'm getting off this damned ship as soon as we drop anchor."

He hid his smirk. It was exactly as he'd hoped. It wasn't that he wanted to draw out their trip north. No, he'd sooner be rid of Cat as quickly as possible. But there was something deeply satisfying about inconveniencing her. So much so that he'd rather extend their journey just to infuriate her. This was going to be good.

***

Bennett found himself four hours later, deep in drink, sitting around the table in the Braised Duck. Nearly his entire crew had disembarked. Those who'd drawn short straws were stuck onboard. But the rest of them converged on Barrel Street. They'd gone from one establishment to another, never staying at any for longer than an hour. This was their third, and arguably the rowdiest; drunks got drunker with each passing hour. Half of his crew had moved on already, but a good handful stayed.

And then there was the matter of Cat.

Upon setting foot in the filthy port island town, she'd immediately changed her tune. She certainly didn't intend to go off and find another ship to carry her north, not when she took one look at what was before her. The clientele in Tortalia left something to be desired. Thiefs , killers, rapists. It was a favorite pirate hideout, ideal for those who wanted to avoid punishment from the crown. A place that spoiled the women who found themselves here, both the willing and unwilling.

Through it all, Cat's expression was priceless—worth every steely he dropped. It came as no surprise that she'd opted to stick with him. Now he'd show her exactly how disgusting he truly was. First and foremost, by getting shitting drunk.

"Another round, Sanny! Bring us another for the gods' sake." He lifted his tankard, motioning to Sanny behind the bar.

"Another round. Another round!" Beaky was perched in the middle of the table, eating the nuts his crew graciously shelled for her.

"And get Cat here one," he added a little louder, noticing her glower. "Drink up, girl. You'll be happier for it."

"Thanks—no." She pushed her tankard away, glaring at him, but he noticed it was empty. She'd had two so far. Yes—he was keeping count, even if he'd lost count of his own. She'd had one here and one at the Dancing Dog, where they'd been just before this. At the first tavern, she'd been so appalled she refused drink altogether. He supposed this was a good sign that she'd loosened up a bit.

Around them, the tables were full with all manner of scoundrels and scum. They were packed close, too, so you could hear the rise and fall conversations around you. He was particularly entertained by one at the table beside them. A group of sailors taking bets on how sweet the bonny lass at his table would taste. It was the kind of crude talk one could always expect at a place like this. And he was certain Cat heard every word, which left him chuckling under his breath. He was certain the rest of their table heard too. But Cat had already earned a reputation among them, so they'd be just as entertained as he was.

"You reckon she tastes like apples er peaches?" one of them asked his mates, slurring. It was a burly man with so much beard you could hardly see his face.

"I'd say peaches, most like," another answered. This one was younger, hardly any more than fuzz on his jaws. His eyes were already glassy. "The soft orange ones, you know? Them fancy ones you only get down in Eryas and Yicora." He made a crude gesture at his chest. They roared, hands slamming on the table top.

Bennett glanced at Cat, noticed her face reddening. How much would she take? Would she suffer in silence or make a stand. He wasn't certain the extent of her magic, but he was certain that any hint of it would scare most of the neighboring table shitless. Tavern fights were common. Normal, even. Expected.

Sanny bustled over with a pitcher, refilling tankards to the last drop. She turned to go just as Bushy Beard at the rowdy table snagged her by the waist. Sanny plopped into his lap, laughing. She kissed him on one cheek and then the other, then wacked him over the head with her empty pitcher when he tried to feel her up. Dazed, his eyes went unfocused. Bushy Beard's companions roared at his misfortunate. Sanny left, still in good spirits. It took a certain kind of woman to withstand men like this—and handle them, as she did.

He drank deeply, slamming his tankard down.

"Well, since that didn't work out—mayhap I try my luck closer to home," Bushy Beard managed, eyebrows wagging. "I like me some peaches, specially them ones in Yicora like you say, Rob."

Rob roared with laughter and turned to their table. "Hey lassie! Mik here reckons you might be sweet enough to eat, eh?"

Cat tutted but ignored the jibe. He knew she was too proud to request Bennett and the rest of their table leave. She'd sit and take the offense, and seethe, but she wouldn't act as if it bothered her. If she hadn't been so outnumbered, perhaps things would have been different. She certainly had no trouble standing up to his own crew.

So...how long?

"What say you, girl? You taste sweet? I bet you do," Mik added.

He noticed the way Cat's fist clenched and unclenched. She kept her gaze forward, glaring directly at Bennett. His table had gone quiet at last. Jonah sat beside Cat. Emmon and Tris across from them, closest to the adjacent table. Beside him, Thomas, Aaron and Peter watched the adjacent table with narrowed eyes.

"Say, lassie, whatever these old fish are payin to bed ya tonight, we'll double it. Come on over to our table—"

Emmon and Tris shot to their feet simultaneously. "What did you just say?" Emmon roared.

"Burn me. This won't be good," he muttered, finishing off his tankard. He wouldn't let good ale go to waste in a bar fight. Cat's mouth had opened, perhaps shocked at being called a whore. Or perhaps finally ready with a retort. No words ever left her lips. Thomas, Aaron and Peter also staggered to their feet, fast as skimmers.

"You heard us." Mik stood, meeting Emmon eye to eye. "We'll buy your whore off you, and pay her double. Though when she gets done with me, she'll be thanking me, probably won't ask for payment at all."

The rest of the tavern went silent. Emmon's fist slammed into Mik's jaw faster than a blink. The tavern erupted. Chairs tumbled as tables surged to join the action. Tris jumped in. Not a second later, Thomas, Aaron, and Peter fell upon the neighboring table. Everyone else in the tavern didn't care who'd said what. It was an excuse to fight. An excuse to blow off steam. A room full of drunks was the perfect recipe for such.

"All right, girl. We're leaving." He bounded around the table and took Cat by the arm none too gently, pulling her up and away.

"I can handle myself, Captain."

"I'm sure you can. But don't you dare think of using magic in here. Not now. Let the lads have their fight."

"I have every right to—"

"You think I care about that? Let the lads defend your honor. Our time here's up. They'll be fine. Not that you're worried for their sake."

Her eyes flashed but she let him drag her out. Jonah was hot on his heels. "On second thought," Jonah said from behind them, "I'd better stay and make sure they don't do anything too stupid."

"Yes, do that," Bennett shot over his shoulder. Tavern fights were nearly always harmless. Black eyes, broken jaws, nothing the local healers couldn't handle. Besides, most towns had a mage of some kind, even if it was a low level one.

Out in the cold night air, his breathing steadied. Cat ripped her arm away from him, hissing. Beaky soared through the open door a moment later. Blast! He'd forgotten all about her in all the chaos of getting Cat out. But Beaky had been in plenty of tavern fights, and poked plenty of eyes out. She could take care of buisness when she wanted. Oh, yes.

"What now, Captain?" Cat hissed, since he was obviously calling the shots.

He sighed, looking out over the docks, then back along Barrel Street. He wouldn't mind a soft feathered bed tonight. He'd had every intention of sleeping landslide and departing in the morning.

"That depends, Cat. Would you rather sleep on the ship tonight, swaying and sick, or get a room at Marylyn's up the road there."

She tutted. "Depends on whether I'll be forced to share one with you."

"You got your own gold, don't you?"

Her jaw worked. She hadn't anticipated paying extra coin for stops along the way. No doubt she was rationing whatever she had for her destination—to do the gods only knew what.

The door burst open, his men stumbled out. Jonah had Peter by the collar. They staggered and stumbled, but they were alive. He looked them over, assessing, proud.

"All right, lads. Rooms at Marylyn's are on me tonight. Let's go." Cat said nothing, following them up the street to a quieter part of the town.

The common room at Marylyn's was a direct opposite to the Braised Duck. And it was blessedly empty. The six of his crew he'd brought along with him collapsed in chairs while he negotiated prices with Marylyn's maid.

"What's the best you've got," he asked her. As it turned out, a single suite with a copper tub was available. And because he was feeling generous, he purchased it for Cat, including the added fee for hot water. She'd want a bath after being at sea for four days. But he didn't tell her this immediately.

Hand full of keys, he turned to see Cat eying the pathetic scene before them. Thomas was trying to keep his bloody, broken nose from messing up the furniture. Peter looked like he had a broken rib, maybe two the way he was groaning and hunched over. Emmon had a black eye and a finger that didn't look straight.

"Seems they paid a decent price for your honor," he said, sidling up beside her. "And I paid a decent price for you to have a bath and the nicest room here."

Cat's blink was the only show of surprise she offered him. "Will...will they be all right?" she asked instead.

He buried his shock at her concern. "Belive me, they've had worse. The healer won't come cheap, if we can get seen before we depart. But I'll pay it if—"

"I—" She cut him off, then stopped herself. He waited. "I was being trained as a healer back in Kastali Dun. Mage Marcel gave me private lessons."

"Interesting. Convenient. Does that mean you're offering?"

"I haven't exactly..." She pursed her lips. He wasn't sure what she'd been about to say. "I'll do what I can."

He grunted. "Good. See that you do. I'll leave you to it. Tabby there behind the counter will have your bath done when you're finished." He gave her the key to her lodgings and strode across the room, handing the rest to Jonah, keeping only one for himself. He went to the stairs, taking one final look at his injured crew. He didn't bother telling them what they were in for with Cat. He'd let her deal with the aftermath. "Beaky, you damn bird. Hurry up." Beaky squawked and took off to follow.

When he reached his room, he deposited his things, cracked the window to let in fresh air, and stoked the fire. But curiosity got the better of him. So he stole back downstairs quietly, and peaked around the stairwell just in time to see Cat kneeling over Peter who moaned about his broken ribs right as she began prodding him.

He studied her expression. Something pained danced behind her eyes. A frown pulled her brows together in deep concentration. Her hands were poised over Peter's middle as she began muttering under her breath. He saw a burst of blue. It wasn't untill Peter was grinning like a tomcat while Cat pressed at his healed ribs that he knew she'd been successful. A pleased smile crept over his features—prickly but useful. Very useful. He'd remember that.

⭐️🌟⭐️🌟⭐️

Happy Friday Bookworms!

You guys! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this chapter. I even listened to some Pirates of the Caribbean music while doing so. It set all the right vibes. I am not quite certain what to do with these two. While I have some longer term plans for them both, I really like the viciousness between them. I also think it's kind of funny the way their paths have crossed together. 

Next week's chapter is called "Learning the Language" and will follow Claire. Yay! We've got a couple more chapters with Claire before we see one with Saffra and then one with King Talon. Yipee! I know you're all excited to see some of our favorite king!

Have a great weekend and a great upcoming week.

All my best,

Mel