The Captain's Fugitive

Introduction

A/N

Love y'all bunches for even clicking on my humble story! Just so you know before this starts, it will be told in three different points of views. 1st Person- Lilith's POV, 1st Person- Daniel's POV, and 3rd Person.

Also, this entire story is based on SOME history, but all names and kings and ect. are completely fictional and made by yours truly!

Hope y'all enjoy! <3

-Kat

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3rd Person POV

1524. June. 2300 hours.

The Phoenix drifts on each breath of the waves, it's anchor deep into the sandy waters below. Offshore the Southern coast of France, the decks lie almost absent of life, the ship left in the care of Johnnie Armitage.

He's a small boy, thin as a newborn tree in spring. Johnnie's cheeks and forehead still are home to the occasional pimples, his late adolescent age younger than the rest of the crew. His hair a mop of red streaks and traces of blond, straying into his green eyes with every gust of wind. His long, pale fingers fumble with an oversized telescope, peering into the distance.

"Bumping barnacles!" His voice cracks, a hand placed to his throat.

He swings from the crow's nest, his hands placed expertly along the mast's lines and beams, his muscles tensing as he takes a firm grip on the next hand hold. With the ease of a bird landing from flight, his feet find the sturdy deck, his bare feet slamming against the wood as he takes off in a sprint.

His captain and the crew will be in La Mort d'une Fleur de Lys, a popular spot for different crowds to mingle, or perhaps the marketplace that surrounds the small town.

Johnnie races across the deck and up and onto the bridge, grabbing a lantern from beside the helm of the ship. Carefully, he draws a wooden rob into a lit lantern's flame, catching the fire and placing it into the glass container.

The young man hops off the bridge, clumsily slipping off the steps. He pants heavily, his feet moving quickly from the stern of the ship to the bow.

Johnnie shudders slightly as he lifts himself over the railing of the Phoenix, the lantern's handle between his teeth as he inches across the bowsprit.

As he reaches the edge, Johnnie allows the lantern to slip into his hands, reaching out to hook the handle onto a nail hammered into the wood.

He breathes deeply, scooting back to the ship's bulwarks and leaning his back against it.

His captain will see it soon, of that he is sure. But will it be soon enough?