The Pirate Queen & The Quartermaster

Chapter 3: The first acquaintance

Demetrius Jones

It was two weeks later that the anchor of The Sovereign finally splashed heavily into the turquoise waters of Bruvendär. Above us, hundreds of seagulls squawked greedily, hovering close to the fishermen who were unloading their catch of the day. Ships akin to ours, though smaller in size, bobbed silently by the docks while its crew dragged their weary feet to inns or the bar. I breathed in deeply as the light wind hit my face, which probably wasn't the best idea according to my nose, and stored the scent of this new country into my memory. It was completely different from Hath'eruil. Back home, the smell of fish and damp wood filled the air. As a fishing town, it was unavoidable and the daily invasion of the mist never left the surfaces dry for too long. Bruvendär had an abundance of scents. One moment there would be the scent of meats cooking and bread baking, then a swift change to fresh fish and then without warning the drifting waft of a crowd of men who hadn't bathed in weeks would assault my nose.

The sun shone brilliantly directly above in the sky and the crew were ordered to restock the ship before being allowed to relax in the port. I volunteered to store the last of the cargo into the storage cabin since I didn't want anyone finding Jasper and Jelma in case they were punished for being stowaways or having the two orphans rat me out. I heaved the last sack of potatoes over my shoulder as a drop of sweat dripped from my brow onto the deck and walked the last distance to the storage cabin. The entire crew, including Captain Boltar, had disappeared into the town the moment I volunteered to finish the restocking.

During the weeks out at sea, it had become apparent to me that Captain Boltar was hiding something. Not in the literal sense, but it seemed as though his personality would leap from strict and polished captain to suspicious and unreliable sailor. I shrugged my tired shoulders and wiped the sheen of sweat from my forehead. Perhaps I was imagining it all, after all I was new to sea, but there was something that wasn't quite right about the captain. It kept me on edge and wary of his mood any time I was within his vicinity, which happened to be quite often as I was navigating the way.

"Alright, Jasper... Jelma, you can come out." I called out to the seemingly empty corner of the storage room. Two dark haired heads popped up from behind a crate and waited a moment before standing up and manoeuvring towards me. Behind them, Bones trotted out from their hiding spot. He had taken to the children with surprising affection and would usually be found sleeping between them. "Okay, you stay behind me. I'll walk up first, check if the coast is clear then you two are free to leave and start a new life in Bruvendär."

"Thank you, Demetrius!" They smiled in unison. They looked so similar they could have passed as twins and I felt myself smiling back at the two children who made my first voyage at sea a memorable one. Every night since the night I discovered them I had managed to sneak food out from the kitchens and deliver it to them undetected. Within those weeks the two of them had already been able to gain some proper weight on them to the point where they genuinely looked healthy. Cook, as I found out was how he preferred to be called, constantly had dagger-like eyes boring into me. By a happy coincidence, Cook never mentioned a word to Captain Boltar of the missing rations because of a personal stock of sweets and rum that he brought on board and would sneak late at night, which was prohibited.

It was easy to sneak Jasper and Jelma out of the ship and onto the solid ground of the port. There was no sign of the crew anywhere close by, but just in case I happened to miss one, we continued walking until we were behind a large tree. Bones stretched out his legs and circled around to sniff the trunk. "Well, looks like my part is done." I said with an awkward nod.

"Thanks for everythin' Demetrius!" Jasper replied, holding his sister's hand. "You're one of the good ones!"

"You'll be alright by yourselves?" I asked, pushing down the worrying feeling in my chest. These orphans couldn't be more than eleven or twelve years old and I couldn't shake the feeling of guardianship over them.