A Game Of Changing Tides

Chapter Fourteen

1868, the Dawrey Ocean

It reminded Adelyn of when her and Harlem used to play on the docks in the harbor. When the water splashed up against the poles, it would ricochet and hit the two of them. The only difference was that this time, it wasn't water. It was a dead man's blood.

Adelyn felt it hit her face, and her neck. It went everywhere, and it was sickening. Even more sickening than the blood, Adelyn thought, was the sound of the bearded man hitting the floor. Lifeless and no more, his body crashed into the deck as though it were a machine that had powered off. A soulless casing that slumped into the wooden boards.

Captain Greywell took full advantage of Adelyn's shock, grabbing the knife from her fingers and twisting it out of her hold. She was pushed back into the stairs, stumbling back towards the lower deck. Adelyn lost her balance, tripping down the steps and hitting the floor with a thump. Winded, she coughed and heaved, gasping for air.

Through the open door, Adelyn watched Greywell twirl the blade in his fingers. He hadn't come down after her—he'd gotten distracted. Nikolai had swooped in seconds later, holding his gun out towards the man.

"That's not a fair fight, now is it?" Greywell cooed.

Nikolai chuckled, pursing his lips, "I wasn't aware pirates ever fought fairly."

"Where's your honour, Kors? I'm but an old man, am I not?" Greywell's knife glinted in the light. Adelyn swallowed, moving up onto her feet and peering up at the two of them. She felt a bruise forming on her hip, and a gash on her ankle, but she ignored them. There were more important things right then.

Nikolai nodded, softly, and Adelyn watched with wide eyes as he sheathed his gun. In it's place, he pulled out an old dagger, painted black, and twirled it in his fingers, "Let's play fair, then."

Greywell grinned, and Adelyn grimaced.

"Alrighty, old man," Nikolai grinned, "any day now. Whenever you're ready."

"Don't patronize me, boy." Captain Greywell muttered. Adelyn slowly moved back up the stairs, just one at a time, and stopped just shy of the door. Behind the older Captain, Adelyn could see the motionless boots of the man Nikolai had shot. Back in her room, she'd been terrified of those boots. She felt something far worse than fear now. "We could have settled this without any death. All I want is the watch."

"I don't have the watch, how many times do I have to say that?" Nikolai said through gritted teeth.

Greywell barked out a laugh. "You didn't think I'd recognize that mark on the wenches hand? That's from no stove. You're a liar, Kors. You and your wench."

"And you're a dead man."

Adelyn flinched when Nikolai moved, forcing herself to swallow her scream. She'd seen Harlem fight countless fights, but none of those had ever involved weapons. In none of those fights had his life ever really been in danger. She'd known how those fights would end, and she hated that she didn't know how this would.

Nikolai reached toward him, swinging his blade in the air. It hit nothing, but it didn't look like it'd been far off from Greywell's throat. As the two captains battled, Adelyn wasn't sure where to look. Just beyond them, the crews were fighting just as hard, fists raised against one another. Adelyn winced every time she saw someone fall to the deck, no matter which side they belonged to. Her gut felt as though it was being tugged and pulled in ten different directions. She felt sea sick, only this time it couldn't be blamed on the sea.

Nik jumped back as Greywell lunged, barely avoiding a blade in the gut. Adelyn drew in a breath, watching with disbelief as the young captain let out a laugh. This was anything but funny, Adelyn thought, he must be insane.