Windfall: Legends of Vioria, #1

Chapter 1

To Go on the Account

6th of Lengnath, 1715

The Capital of Caerwyn

Ashadow crept around a stone archway, unseen by a passing pair of guards on patrol. The woman who cast it pulled down her hood and peered about. Her thick, unkempt black hair fell over her shoulders. A long cloak covered her curves, but she had flung it back to rest a hand on her hip, revealing a sword in its sheath. Her fingers, ruddy and coarse with use, pinched her bottom lip. She strained her ears to hear over the soft slaps of water in the harbor, the creaking of the ships’ hulls as they swayed, and the occasional caw of laughter from the nearby row of pubs.

Just as she began to wring her hands under the cloak, another duo approached. They weren’t dressed in soldiers’ uniforms, but sailors’ garb. She took a step forward and allowed her silhouette to be revealed. There you are. What took you so long?

I’m sorry, Captain, her quartermaster, Ameen Almasi, said, stopping at her side and turning on his heel to face his companion. Our young friend was... distracted.

The youth in question tucked his chin and smiled guiltily at his captain.

Damn it, Squiddy, she scolded. Learn to keep up.

Her expression softened to amusement as he scowled. His real name was Sava, but she’d settled on calling him Squiddy. Not much would be able to change her mind.

Ameen chuckled, deep and quiet. Sava looked much like a young Ameen—slight, lanky, and youthfully energetic. Ameen towered over him. He held his posture, straight and sure, lean with muscle gained by nautical labor. The boy still had some way to go before he would be able to carry himself so confidently. Tonight, he would have a chance to prove himself. She beckoned them to follow her.

The Capital of Caerwyn rose before them in layers, on a crest overlooking the sea. The docks formed its base, spanning out south, east, and west like the fingers of an outstretched hand. The rest of the city stacked upon the palm; rows upon rows of buildings, each one smaller than the width of the one below it. The Royal Palace stood at the zenith of this view, like a crooked mountain range, sporting banners of blue and silver. The ocean-side of the palace stretched out like the hand's thumb, wide and thick.

Liana, Ameen breathed her name rather than her title. His voice plucked her from the high towers of the palace and steadily anchored her back to the alley behind the harbormaster’s office.

She looked about the alley to make sure they hadn’t been noticed creeping about. This is it? Sava’s voice cracked.

Yes. Do you remember what you have to do?

He nodded. Even in the dark, she could see him shake. Placing a firm hold on his arm, she looked into his face. His eyebrow twitched.

Liana breathed in deeply, nodding to invite him to mimic her. You can do this.

I’m ready, he said as he twisted a lockpick between his fingers.

The building had suffered some damage since the last storm season and was under renovation, therefore it had an outer shell of scaffolding that looked sturdy enough to climb. Ameen knelt to give Sava a lift, and he was off, scaling the walls as easily as strolling the streets. They watched as he reached the third story, settled himself on a beam, and picked open the window. He scrambled through it and disappeared.

Liana saw Ameen lift his hand to his chest, where a Circle of the Divine hung on a chain under his linen shirt.

He’ll be alright, she assured him.

His eyes grazed over her face, then downward. You weren’t supposed to bring that.

She followed his line of sight to the cutlass at her side. It’s for protection, if we’re caught.

"If we are caught, we agreed you would distract them while Sava and I get away. Soldiers won't harm an unarmed Caerwyn woman." He looked straight back at her expectantly with an extended hand, wagging his fingers. After a meaningful silence, she begrudgingly loosened her belt. He was right, after all. It was the reason she was wearing her Mass dress.

"Insubordination is what I call that, Almasi," she spat. Her tone could cut as deeply as the blade she handed over. But Ameen knew her well enough not to be offended. He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. His amber eyes lit up as he caught her looking for a moment too long. Liana began to pace, her shoulder purposefully knocking against his side as a final jab. She didn’t need to look back to know he was still smiling.

The lighthearted energy between them evaporated as they heard a whistling call in the distance—a warning. Sava’s head emerged from the window. Liana waved for him to come down. In return, he made an exaggerated shrugging gesture and went back in.

That stupid little— She rushed to the base of the scaffold and gathered her skirts. Lift me up, I’m going to get him.

You’re in a dress.

"And whose brilliant idea was that?!"

Deep voices and the light of a lantern cut through the darkness. Despite the cool breeze, she began to sweat. She could hear the patrolmen at the front of the building now. They must have taken a shorter route than usual.

An object landed at Liana's feet with a flutter and thud. She snatched up the book and flipped it open. The ledger was unreadable in the pale moonlight, but she knew it was exactly what they had come for. Blimey, Squiddy! You’ve done it.

Who’s back there? came a gruff voice from the front, cutting their victory short. The sound of the ledger's landing had alerted the patrol.

Liana whirled around and shoved the ledger into Ameen's hands. She unfastened her cloak and threw that at him as well. Wait for him but go as quickly as you can.

He tucked it under his arm with her sword. Be careful, Captain.

As she lifted her skirts and sprinted off, Sava was already halfway to the ground.

But, by the Divine, this dress!

She hadn’t gone to Mass in years and had outgrown the gown. Ameen had insisted on this particular one—the rest she owned were plain, albeit comfortable. She’d been a fool to think she could have climbed after Sava. Between the binding bodice around her torso and carrying the weight of the layers of the skirt, she was out of breath within seconds. Still, it made her distress all the more convincing as she collided into the chest of the soldier before her.

The man grunted in surprise and took a step back to steady himself. She clung to his dark blue long-skirted coat. His jaw unhinged.

It's a woman! his friend declared.

Thank the Divine you're here! she gasped out. Th-these men had me cornered and robbed me!

She gave a doe-eyed shrug, feigning helplessness. The soldier settled his hands on her shoulders. It made her feel uncomfortably small. The other one, a fair young man, threw himself in the direction she had come.

It's alright, ye’re safe now, the soldier who stayed with her said, beginning to stroke her upper back. He had a slight Northern accent, and his features were darker than the other soldier. She arched away.

The fair soldier returned at a slower pace this time. Whoever attacked you, miss, they've gone now. Likely pirates who've come to port for the season.

Thank you. She spoke as demurely as her pride would allow. I’ll be on my way, now.

Shall we escort you home—?

No! She realized too late she had interrupted him. No... Thank you.

He took in her loose disheveled locks of hair that curled about her face, her dress that was slightly too small for her, her boot heels that scuffed the cobblestones as she began to quietly shuffle away. He gave his Northern companion a glance. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the other soldier's frame blocked her way out.

What's the hurry, miss?

She bolted, aiming for the space between the archway and the swarthy soldier's arm. He caught her and dragged her down. As she hit the ground, pain exploded along her cheek and jaw. The Northman pressed her hard against the cold stone.

Let me go! I've done nothing wrong!

Why are you running, then? We can see as clear as day what you're up to back here!

She turned her head as best as she could, glaring up at him. Just what crime do you think I’m committing?

Kelvin, I believe the lass is trying to get out of the Harlot's Tax.

You think I'm a bloody prostitute?!

"No wrong in it, luv, but it is a crime."

We have no room in the cells to imprison a woman, so ye must pay the tax.

I told you, I was robbed! she snarled. She supposed it was safer for them to think of her as a troublesome whore than a budding pirate. She was wrong.

The tax isn’t paid with coin, luv.

Liana wriggled and bucked, but to no avail. Her heart beat as hard as a drum in her throat. Even through the panic, she thought perhaps Sava and Ameen hadn’t gotten far. She let out a note of a scream before it was killed by a rough, clammy palm. Another hand started to rustle around her skirts. Harsh, moist breath in her ear made her senses prickle.

Quick footsteps approached, and she was freed of the weight that pinned her to the ground. The hand over her mouth disappeared. She twisted about and kicked up hard. Out of pure luck, her foot collided with the Northman's groin. He had been too busy gaping like a hooked fish at his deposed friend to protect himself.

Ameen stood with his shoulders square over the now lifeless corpse. He gripped a bloody sword, baring his teeth to the surviving soldier. Her limbs wobbled; she felt like a foolish damsel as she struggled to stand. He rushed to her. She leaned back against him, and his arms circled her waist to keep her on her feet.

Gallagher? Kelvin? Is that you? Another soldier with short, honey-colored hair that reflected his lantern's radiance rounded the corner. He lifted a pistol, pressed the hammer down, and aimed it for Ameen. Unhand the lady!

Whyte! He killed Kelvin! Shoot him! the dark soldier, apparently Gallagher, ordered as he writhed on the ground, still holding his groin.

Liana began to shout, but it was too late. The gun fired. Reflexively, she ducked at the blast. Ameen folded in half and fell, taking her down with him. Another two shots fired from the other end of the alley. She looked up to see five men racing toward them, and she knew them all. Sava led them, shouting and pointing. Their shots had missed, but they rushed the two soldiers.

She turned over to Ameen, who lay curled on his side, facing her with a pained grimace. He breathed in shallow gulps of air with his eyes shut tightly. His dark complexion shone with sweat in the moonlight. The ball had buried itself in his left shoulder.

Are ya alright, lass? A weathered face, tense with worry, crossed into her sights. Marin. She thanked the Divine he was here. He would know what to do.

She croaked wordlessly. Her throat was as dry as a bag of flour, and her heart had made its way back up to her jugular. Tears began to fill her eyes, and she tried again. He’s...

We'll tend to him, Marin promised. He’ll make it. I give ye my word. But we must go. Others will have heard the shots.

A pair of matching hands moved over Ameen. Twin orphans, Jamil and Kahil, gently got him to his feet. Ameen's head bowed in pain as he let out a groan that made Liana clutch her chest.

What'll we do with these filthy codpieces? Lucky, an experienced seaman with an array of nautical tattoos covering his arms and chest to prove it, stood behind Gallagher. Both soldiers knelt before her now. The man who had moments ago attacked her now sniveled at her feet.

The honey-haired man surrendered gallantly. His hands poised up, and he looked directly at her face. Sava stood behind him and looked at her expectantly, albeit nervously. He held the pistol out to her. She took it, feeling the grit of the powder on the handle. It was still warm.

We haven’t much time, Marin reminded her.

Liana blinked until her eyes were bone dry and hardened her features.

You, she said, looking down her nose at Gallagher. How many others?

Gallagher sealed his lips tight. He hissed when Lucky dug his fingers into his shoulder sharply. Answer the captain.

How many other women?

Whyte turned to Gallagher in confusion. Gallagher bowed forward, refusing to answer. Liana grimly nodded to Lucky. He took the cue and fisted the tail of Gallagher’s hair, pulling his head back to give himself an easier target. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marin blanch and look away. Lucky cut the soldier deep enough that the blood pooled under the wound. After one gargling breath, the soldier went limp. Lucky dropped him, giving Liana a look of high esteem.

And this one? He nodded over at the last soldier. She bent and looked into Whyte's sickly pale face. He bravely stared back into her eyes, accepting whatever justice she felt right to deliver. She turned the pistol, swung it back, and cracked him across the skull. His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled.

I ’m the bloody captain , here, Liana said, clenching her fist with the utmost authority. "And I will not be leaving this deck!"

Kahil raised his hands up in surrender. Aye, Captain. Not another word.

The truth was she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hammock below, but knew she wouldn’t be able to rest. After being nearly raped, witnessing her dearest friend being shot, and narrowly escaping the Capital, Liana felt like she could vomit on the spot. But that they were on the ship, and her duties as captain had barely begun.

I’m sorry, Captain Foley, said Jamil meekly. We meant no disrespect.

Too right, she muttered. As they left, she leaned over the bow, looking ahead at the open water, dark and mysterious in the early morning hours. She had gotten out of the dress and changed into a pair of trousers. Turning away from the sea, she donned her tricorn and surveyed the ship.

My ship. Unable to let it go unnamed before the first voyage, Marin had pressed her for a title for the vessel. She had chosen Windfall—a strike of fortune. But thinking of Ameen’s injury, she felt anything but fortunate. If she was going to go through with this, she would need an iron stomach, a more lenient conscience, and definitely a hired surgeon.

Liana straightened up, adjusted her hat, and crossed the deck.

Well, my girl, ya made a believer out of me! a cheerfully paternal voice said. Marin beamed at her, despite the bloodstains on his shirt and the sweat on his brow. Ye’ve done it!

We’ve done nothing yet, Marin. She sighed. We’ve barely begun, and we almost lost everything. We almost lost Ameen.

Och, the boy is sturdy enough. He shrugged. We were never close tah losin’ him.

He’ll be alright, you think?

I always keep my word. Ye know that.

I do. She smiled and handed Marin the ledger. She trusted no one more. Ameen was perhaps a close second.

He tilted his head to the side, his sandy brown and gray hair falling into his eyes. I must say I think it honorable that ya didna kill the last soldier.

I wanted him to remember who we are and what we’re capable of. Besides, I felt as though I owed him, she told him. As stupid as he was, he thought he was rescuing me.

He seemed satisfied with that. Oh, and one more thing, he added, as he turned to leave. He’s asking for ya.

She balked. He’s still conscious?

Marin nodded, round face rising in a smile. Won’t let himself rest until he sees ye’re alright.

"The most stubborn sailor I’ve ever..." she growled, shook her head, and stomped away, cursing under her breath.

As she parted ways with Marin, she thought she heard him chuckle.

Her cabin didn’t have much more to it than the berth and a long table—both nailed securely to the floorboards. Paned glass held together by heavy timber made up the back bulkhead. Through it, she could see the orange glow of sunrise spreading like marmalade over the horizon behind the ship. She removed her hat once more and set it on the table.

Upon her entrance, Ameen tried to sit up, but cursed at the attempted movement.

Serves you right, she jibed, dragging a chair from the table to sit at his bedside. As she settled in the seat, she checked the bandages wrapped around his arm and chest. No signs of bleeding, thankfully. You should be sleeping. Now, what do you want?

His eyes tight with pain, he adjusted to look at her. The lantern flickered, making the lines of his face waver. When he spoke, his voice was grated and as quiet as a whisper. Did they hurt you?

No, she told him, softening when she saw his sincere concern. Thanks to you.

I’m sorry... he said, even quieter than before. She thought she might not have heard him right.

What did you say?

It was my fault, he said, a little louder now, but she could tell it took effort. I put you in danger and left you no way to protect yourself.

That’s what you think?

It’s what happened, he said, breathless. He jerked when she pressed her palm against his forehead. What in the name of the Guardians are you doing?

Checking for fever, she said cheerfully. Seems like you were babbling, so I had to see if you were going into a fit.

He removed her hand, allowing himself a ghost of a smile.

It wasn't your fault, she insisted. You should be proud. We got the ledger. We know where the ships are and what they’ll be carrying. This was your plan, and because of you, we all made it out alive.

Barely.

Be grateful, she huffed. I certainly am. You saved me.

I know. He still did not sound satisfied. With an idea as to why, she patted his hand.

You feel guilty, she surmised, for killing them...

As she trailed off, he shook his head. They deserved to die. It was worth it, to keep you safe.

It could’ve been the pitch and roll of the ship, but she found herself leaning closer. She admired the way his dark lashes framed his warm amber eyes—charcoal around a burning fire. It wasn’t the first time she had been taken by such strong feelings. Like moths to the flame, they had always been drawn to each other, fluttering in a careful dance around their attraction. But now, in the wake of nearly losing each other, they closed the gap.

She took him by surprise, but the kiss was certainly not unwanted. Her nose brushed his cheek first, before she felt his lips part under hers. It was gentle and quick, so as not to jostle him in his fragile state. When she moved away, his eyes were still closed.

Liana, I’ve... he started. He opened his eyes, realizing that she was standing up.

Get some sleep, she said, turning the lantern low before taking up her tricorn once more. The rising sun’s bright rays streaked through the thick glass of the bulkhead.

After that? He watched her as she stopped at the doorway.

She smiled crookedly and looked back at him, tipping the brim of the tricorn forward in farewell. Heal up, sailor. Your captain needs you at your best.

Chapter 2

No Prey, No Pay

17th of Baelfest, 1723

Quemala Ocean, North of Silili

Swirling smoke filled the salty air in the aftermath of cannon fire. The crew of the Windfall rushed through it with ease, howling like mad dogs. A black flag whipped above their heads on the mizzenmast, rousing fear in the crew of the captured ship as they boarded.

Captain Liana Foley’s voice carried over the smoke and shouts, disembodied to those out of her close proximity. It cut through the chaos, resounding deep, throaty, and as dangerous as the call of a siren. She waved her sword arm as her men subdued the merchant crew. The swirls dissipated around her swift movements, fleeing like the shadows of dying wraiths.

It was an easy surrender. If given the choice between their lives and some cargo, most in their right minds would choose the former.

Liana went below deck as she called out, What do we have?

Jewels spilled out onto the lower deck. Perfectly cut rubies, sapphires, and emeralds glimmered a reflection in her eyes. A smile quirked her lips as Ameen appeared at her side and let out an appreciative whistle. That’ll do.

That’ll do, indeed, she echoed. After giving some direction, she went above to oversee the rest of the men taking formation around the imprisoned crew. There was no sense in taking them all to the brig. They wouldn’t be aboard for long. A young man with springy black curls, the last to emerge from below, stood to attention.

That’ll be all of them, Captain.

You’re sure?

We’ve covered every step of the ship, Sava said. He gave her a confident nod before she dismissed him to step back into line.

She looked about. Which of you lot is the captain?

Many of the sailors edged toward a silent silver-haired man to Liana’s left. Presuming this coward was indeed in charge, she turned to give her usual spiel—the promise of safety in return for compliance. Before she could get any words in, a grating voice spat at her.

Bitch!

Liana kept her demeanor calm, even as some of her men reached for their weapons. The man who had insulted her looked at her with a vile hatred that drew deep lines in his forehead and around his thin mouth. An outburst like this wasn’t typical. Sailors on merchant vessels would be paid their salary, no matter what happened to the cargo. She wasn’t stealing anything from him directly.

I will only address my equal, she said, keeping her eyes on the captain. He was begging the man to stop with a sharp shake of his head, but Liana demanded further action. Captain, you will keep your men in line, or I will—

Equal? the man shouted now, his voice cracking against the strain of his hostility. Thieving whore! May the Divine take you and your Creatures to Hell!

Murmurs rumbled from the prisoners. Some were in agreement, while others whispered in fear.

Another word out of your man, Captain, and he’ll be keelhauled, Liana warned, bending to the captain’s level. Ameen, in an effort to move things along, directed the cargo across the boards onto the Windfall. He exchanged glances with Liana, and she gave him a nod to go on. But he hesitated as a volley of insults were thrown at her—crude and vicious vulgarities even her crew of pirates would never dare to speak in her presence. Sava made a move to pounce on the offender, but Ameen caught his arm and held him back.

Pritchard! the captain hissed, finally speaking up. You fool! You’ll get us all killed!

Liana already had enough. Samara! Reed!

Maiz Samara stepped out of formation. He tried to restrain Pritchard, who squirmed away like an eel. Samara already had his hands on him again by the time Everett Reed came hastily to his aid.

A shiv materialized from Pritchard’s boot. He swiped at Samara, who managed to tear himself away just in time. Pritchard drew back again before careening forward with all his might at Samara. Reed was too far away to protect him, but Liana wasn’t. She sank her cutlass into Pritchard’s back and through the other side. He was dead before he hit the deck. For the first time since they had boarded, complete silence fell. It only lasted a moment.

Th-thank you, Captain, Samara said.

Take the body below, was her only response. Fury coursed through her as she looked at Reed, who wiped sweat off his brow. Help him. The rest of you, follow Almasi’s orders to move the cargo. I want to weigh anchor as soon as possible. 

Everett Reed had the sense to remove his hat when he entered the captain’s cabin. Ameen shut the door behind him and leaned against the bulkhead, crossing his arms. Reed swallowed, his gaze settling on the irate captain before him. If looks could kill, he would have been dust in the wind.

Empty your pockets, Reed. Liana snapped, and he hesitated. Now.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and dug into his coat, procuring two fistfuls of rubies. They scattered on her desk, scuttling like shimmering beetles. Behind Reed, Ameen scoffed and shifted against the bulkhead.

With the proof to confirm her suspicions, she removed her tricorn and hung her head, pressing her hands on a clear space on the desk. Do you have anything to say for yourself?

I couldn’t help it, Captain, he said, ashamed. I have a wife, children...

Isn’t your share enough to feed them, clothe them, keep their comforts? She lifted up and scowled at him. His silence gave way to a pause. Your crewmate was nearly gutted because you were stuffing your pockets, you selfish ass!

Reed shifted his shoulders, his face burning red. With all due respect, Captain, my share is a fraction of yours. So please forgive me for not having the same restraint as—

Liana’s palm cracked across Reed’s face. It was something of a spectacle, seeing a man of such brawn subdued so quickly; though for Reed’s sake, she was glad the crew was not there to witness it. She had meant to make a fist, but at the last moment granted him the mercy of a stinging mark over a black eye. He cradled his cheek, eyes bulging and glassy with humiliation. Ameen took a step off the bulkhead, ready in case Reed tried to strike her back. He didn’t.

You may have heard, she said when Reed finally looked up, That I take three shares.

She held up her index finger and continued. "One, for the upkeep of this ship. Without the Windfall you’d still be scraping together enough money to house your family in a single room, like you did in Riven.

Two, she said, lifting another finger. "For The Black Barricade, where you and your family came when you were starving and without a home.

"And three, for myself. I am personally paid the same as you. But you know not all of our seasons are as good to us as this one. No prey, no pay. I will supplement the Windfall and the Barricade when necessary because the people need us, just like you needed us. So, don’t you dare accuse me of taking more than I deserve after what you did. After you disobeyed your captain and put your fellow crewmate in danger."

The mortification was clear in the inverted curve of his shoulders and the way the lump in his throat trembled.

"When we make landfall, you will never take a step on the Windfall again, she said with finality. I can’t have you put anyone else at risk."

Captain, please...

You have two choices. You can resume your duties with grace until we return to the Capital. Or, if you insist on being defiant, then you can spend the rest of the voyage in the brig.

He rubbed above his beard where she had struck him. I won’t argue.

Good. I’ll give you a moment to pull yourself together. Liana stepped around the desk and