Revenge of Time Part 7
The sea glittered in the hot sun, a cool blue from horizon to horizon. The island punctuated the surface in a long sweep of golden sand. In the gentle, warm breeze of midday the palms swayed in a serene dance on the upper edge of the beach. The wild calls of birds floated out over the sea, making the hard-eyed young woman smile briefly.
She stood on the prow of the ship, looking to all the world like a pirate queen. Her dress was a patchwork of materials held around the waist by a wide leather belt pulled tight to support the weight of the sword and pistol hanging off either hip. A blue shawl lazily flapped in the breeze, as did her unkempt hair with only the red bow holding it out of her sunclosed eyes. Her skin had gone from milky white to a deep brown, scoured by salt, sun and sea and her mouth was a grim white line.
Julian was sitting in the shadow of the mast, pouring over a map. The crew were high in the rigging, preparing the ship to stop at the island. The cook was sitting on a pile of cannon balls singing a shanty softly. There were far fewer cannonballs cluttering the deck than there had been. He saw Harriet looking intently at the island, and with a mischievous grin he placed the skull of a fish on top of a far barrel. He called to Harriet, and she turned slowly.
‘Harriet! Go on, show us how it’s done. The fish, the fish,’ he pointed madly when she drew her pistol on him. She never took her eyes off him, only the barrel of the gun moved a fraction and the ossified piscine remains blew apart. The cook stood open mouthed. Then he grinned nervously.
‘Thanks, Harriet.’
‘Cease your tomfoolery, you scurvy dogfish!’ growled the Captain from his seat by the wheel. The cook scurried below decks, and Harriet swiftly reloaded her pistol and turned once more to the land. She did tricks now and again for the crew, it gave her a thrill to see that she could do things like that. If she met her stepfather these days she wouldn’t think twice about running him through. She had no remorse for all of the men who had misjudged her. After that first one it had become easier every time. Now men looked at her with fear, even her fellow shipmates. They saw in her a fire that went unquenched through every engagement, every looting. She only ever took small things from the hoards, little necklaces, rings, feminine knickknacks. They never saw her wearing them, her only decoration two large gold hoops through her ears. How long had it been now that they had been sailing these blue waters looking for that fabled island, ay it was fabled to the crew. Julian was getting more and more lost in his maps, a little at a time becoming more intent on finding the island and less on what it held. She drew another breath from the sea, a minor theft which left her feeling cleaner than the thousands of pounds they had taken from their various victims.
