"What's been troubling you then?"
Charles lifted his head up. Someone was speaking to him.
There was a girl of around his age staring back at him. Her long black hair which was usually kept at her shoulders was now in a bun at the back of her head. She wore a blue scarf around her neck and a simple brown dress. He couldn't see, but Charles guessed that her apron was on at her waist. "Nothing, Celia…" He sighed.
"Well, I doubt that." She smiled and grabbed Charles's glass as he was about to take a sip. The glass was brought from his mouth and back behind the bar.
"You're cruel." He grumbled.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You'll thank me for it later." Celia raised her eyebrows and put the glass away. "So, I'll ask again. What's got you all grumpy?"
Charles rolled his eyes. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't exactly sober. How could he be? He knew what he'd have to do. "I've been given a new mission."
"No need to jump up and down in excitement," she joked.
He didn't laugh. "It's a difficult mission, Celia. I've got to capture or kill the pirates who kidnapped the Duchess of Achea."
Celia made a pshht sound and waved her hand in the air. "That'll be easy for you. You're not like them other pirate hunters."
He hung his head. "You don't understand… I know the pirates. In fact, I used to be friends with them."
Celia's smile dropped to one of sympathy. She leaned over the bar and put her hand in Charles's. Her palm wasn't as smooth as the upper classes, but it wasn't as rough as the lower classes. "This is going to be hard for you, isn't it?" She asked, tilting her head.
Charles looked up at her but didn't say anything. Her hand was so warm in his, her eyes so bright compared to him. A thought crossed his mind, too quick for him to stop himself from doing it. He leaned towards Celia. He couldn't stop staring at her face, how beautiful she was, how understanding she was. She leaned forwards as well. It wasn't too long before their lips met and Charles felt heat rise in him. Her free hand found his and their fingers interlocked. It was only a few seconds, sure, but it felt like an age. They were there with each other for an eternity and finally, when the two parted, Celia rested her forehead against his. She was good and pure and everything he wanted. Everything he needed.
Her voice again. "How do I know that was you, and not the nerves and the drinks?"
He took a small breath and took his forehead off of hers. He opened her eyes for a small second, red had risen and filled her pale cheeks, her delicate eyelids still shut. Charles didn't want to say anything. He slowly pushed his lips against hers again. There was something unstoppable in him now. It was just the two of them, alone in the tavern. If they needed privacy, Charles had rented a room in the inn for the duration of his shore leave. He wanted them to need privacy. There was something new, a desire. He wanted Celia. The heat and tension between the two was almost unbearable, it tugged at his heart and his hands and his mind. He wanted her.
Celia let out a soft noise and Charles removed one of his hands from hers. He travelled up her shoulder, drawing lines on her neck. She shuddered and gasped, letting the kiss falter and end. Celia closed her eyes as he traced shapes on her neck, smiling softly. He moved his hand further up her neck and pressed his lips against hers. She nibbled on his lip, and he let her explore his mouth and gently move her tongue around. His hand finally found what he was looking for. There was a hairtie in her hair, keeping it in a bun. He pulled it away from her, letting her hair cascade down to her shoulders. He dropped the hairtie on the bar and ran his fingers through her hair. Celia made a pleasured sound and removed her tongue from Charles's mouth. She pulled away from the kiss, letting his mouth stay partly parted.
"Why don't we go somewhere we know we can make a mess?" She asked, her voice barely higher than a whisper, but full of excitement and exhilaration. Her chest rose and fell quickly, like she was getting too excited for her body to keep up. The heat between the two affected her as well, forming around her thighs and in her fingertips and in the absence of Charles's fingers trailing her neck.
Charles smiled and let his other hand fall away from Celia's as he stood up. She straightened herself and exited from behind the bar. Charles held his hand out for her and she took it. Her palms were a bit sweatier now, as were his. They both buzzed with anticipation.
They climbed the creaky old stairs, the stairs that Celia had pushed Charles down once. The stairs where they'd had their first kiss, the stairs where they'd been hit with rulers by the innkeeper. They took the first right and slipped into the closest door to them; Charles's room.
Celia smiled and shut the door behind her, letting it click. She smirked and put her hands on Charles's chest, pushing him towards the bed.
***
"How are the wife and kids, Lieutenant?" Charles asked, straightening his hat and brushing Celia's hair off of his jacket.
"She's dandy. My daughters like the jewellery I bought them in the bazaar of… where was it again?" His voice trailed off.
"Qahira." Charles finished Akim's sentence.
"Ah, Qahira! What a place…" Akim looked wistfully at the ocean.
"Well, you'll be excited to know that we're actually heading back there as our first destination. They were last sighted in the port of Qahira, so it will be strictly business. The Emir wants to speak to us anyhow, offer us his sincerest apologies for accidentally harbouring pirates." Charles shoved his hands into his pockets. "Back in my day, they used to actively harbour pirates and house them. For a fee obviously."
"Back in your day, Captain?" Akim narrowed his eyebrows and looked inquisitively over at Charles.
Shit. He'd let his guard down for too long and almost compromised himself. "My prime, Lieutenant. When I was fresh out of the academy." Charles nodded.
Akim seemed to accept this and turned his attention back to the waters. "You can't class that as your prime, you know? You're not even thirty."
"And I graduated early, remember." Charles smiled.
"Show off," Akim grumbled, jabbing Charles in the side with his elbow. "When do we leave?"
"Uhh… Around about now, once all of the boys have finished hauling the boxes." Charles pulled out a pocketwatch from his right pocket and opened it. The morning was just rolling around, and the boys should be done by now.
It took about half an hour for the boxes to be moved and the supplies to be restocked. Everyone had boarded the ship, the Captain going last, and now it was time to leave.
Some of the crew hauled the anchor back into position, their struggles were just a bit laughable, but their efforts laudable. There were likely to be many drunken sailors aboard the ship, but it was something that he was going to have to deal with.
Aki missed his girls, that's for sure. His hands kept wandering to the locket his wife had given him as a present. Inside, there was a family photo of the four of them. He was doing this for them though, and he really did love the seas. There was just something about being with them for such a short period of time before leaving abruptly that he hated. Everyone wanted more time with their family, and Charles would not object to another day with Celia. But, this was their job. These were the terms and conditions of the occupation. When they were initiated, this was what they agreed to. These men agreed to sign their life away defending the seas, keeping their families safe. Surely that was enough?
Morale was low, but they all knew that the mission they were sent on was a rewarding one, but also an important one. Charles hung around on the deck for a bit, letting the ocean breeze fly past him. There wasn't a particularly long way to sail to get to Qahira, so there wouldn't be many interruptions.
It was quiet for a ship. There was the occasional squeaking of metal, but it was really just quiet. Everyone was tired and groggy.
Charles started singing a shanty, clapping his hands to a beat. There wasn't much else to do on a ship to keep up morale other than to sing shanties as the time flew by.
Akim finished off the line. His mouth formed a small smile, he absolutely loved shanties.
Charles leant against the mast, still clapping his hands.
The response came from one of the men sorting through a crate. Charles turned to face the man, scratch that, boy. He looked like he'd just been initiated, probably one of the most promising boys from another ship. He was blond and wore a red neckerchief.
Akim took his hand away from the locket. It didn't matter how much it hurt to be away from his family, while he was on the sea he had all the company he needed to make him feel a bit better.
The response to the shanty came from the boy and another man. He was a seaman, and was staring out at the water while cleaning the gifts they were bringing for the Emir of Qahira.
Charles and Akim clapped to the beat for a bit before Charles raised his voice again. The pirates he was going to encounter were dangerous, more dangerous than he'd like to say. Well, they weren't the most ruthless out there, he knew that firsthand. But Jack was bold, and that was what made him dangerous. He didn't like to slaughter or have his way with the women he captured, he was just bold. He'd kidnap people and treat them as guests, being all kind and chivalrous. If you didn't give him the hefty ransom that he demanded, though, his 'guest' was never seen again. Nobody knew what he did with them.
The response came from the blond boy, the seaman, and another seaman. Charles didn't want the fear that lingered and sprouted in his mind to seep out into these other men who had a lot to lose. If Jack was there, then there was one person who was bound to show up. One person far more brutal and deadly.
Akim called a line. He was expecting a large response to this line, it was obvious.
More voices joined in the chorus that responded to the call. Each was busy at work, triple-checking supplies, making sure they were on course, checking the map. None were too busy to boost the morale a bit though.
Charles and Akim sang a line together. Charles knew they would stick together through thick and thin, but he was still scared that the past, his past, would make itself known to everyone. A smile crept onto his face as more and more of the crew on the top deck were joining in with the shanty.
He could hear some people from the deck below joining in with the song. The floorboards had cracks in them meaning you could hear what was going on below and above. He could hear Tobias's voice mixed in with the rest of the crew's. His accent was a bit different than Charles's. Charles's was faltering anyway because of the amount of time he spent in Naria. He hoped Tobias wouldn't lose his though.
Akim sang a bit louder, clapping Charles on the shoulder. It was moments like this that made Charles proud to be a Captain, and maybe even wonder what would have become of him if he stayed with his family. Charles stopped singing and let the sounds of his crew's mixed voices fill his ears. Each sounded a lot happier than a minute ago. They'd been on the open water for around half-an-hour now.
Akim cupped his hands around his mouth so that the sound would travel farther. A chorus of replied erupted from all over the ship. The call and response in Navy training had never been this bright, and some of the newer members had been stunned at first.
The call came from his Sub-lieutenant, Scott. Scott had previously been down in the lower decks, probably boosting morale down there. Charles joined in the response from the rest of the deck. When everyone joined in as a collective, the world felt unbeatable and worth being in. In the last mission, Scott had been called away and posted on another ship by the Commodore, apparently for disobeying orders, so it was nice to finally have him back.
Once the shanty had ended, and the crew's morale had been boosted, Charles smiled warmly and tipped his hat to Scott and Akim. "If you need me, I'll be in my chambers."
He got a nod from each of them, leaving Akim in charge of the ship. Charles needed to write a report about the first bit of the voyage. He put his key in the lock and unlocked his door so that he could actually get in the room. It clicked open and he shouldered his way in, shutting the door behind him.
He sat down at his desk and grabbed a fresh piece of parchment. He removed the lid off of the inkpot and took his quill out of its case.
Wednesday, 26th May,
We've set sail for the sweltering country of Qahira, one of my favourite places to sail to when I was a boy. I understand that you might not have been to Qahira, Commodore, so allow me to describe it to you.
Amidst the sprawling sands of the desert of Qahira, one can find a people of great fortitude and unshakeable spirit, who have learned to thrive in the harshest of environments.
Its greatest claim to fame, however, lies in its rugged coastline, where the Arabian Sea crashes against towering cliffs and rocky outcroppings. Here, the intrepid traveller may discover a land of striking contrasts, where the arid desert gives way to verdant oases and the hustle and bustle of the trading port vies with the tranquillity of secluded beaches.
The people of Qahira are a proud and independent folk, fiercely devoted to their traditions and their way of life. Yet, they are also renowned for their hospitality and their generosity of spirit, welcoming all who come in peace to their shores.
At the heart of Qahira lies its capital city, also named Qahira, which serves as the hub of the country's bustling shipping industry. Here, one can find a vibrant mix of cultures and traditions, as merchants from all corners of the world converge to buy and sell their wares.
And yet, amidst all the bustle and excitement, one cannot help but be struck by the timeless beauty of Qahira's landscape, a land that seems to have remained unchanged for countless centuries. From the towering dunes of the desert to the rugged cliffs of the coast, Qahira is a land of wonder and enchantment, a place that will forever capture the imagination of all who have the good fortune to visit its shores.
Unfortunately, Commodore, Qahira is rumoured to harbour pyrates and brutes. We need a delicate approach when we address the subject with the Emir. Unfortunately, neither Scott nor Akim speak Qahiri, so I'll also need to serve as a translator for the Emir and my crew. The Emir is forbidden to learn any other language by Qahiri royalty law, so my voice might get tired by the end of our negotiations.
The crew's morale has suffered a bit from the very little shore leave time we were allowed. I am certainly not a stranger to this either, and neither are my senior officers. We're doing the best we can to keep them (and ourselves) motivated, because a tired crew cannot safely rescue the Duchess.
Kind Regards,
Captain Charles FitzRobert of the HMS Infinity
Charles put the quill down on the table and screwed the lid back onto the inkpot. He exited his chambers and checked their position with the seaman who had the map.
"Approaching the dock now, Captain." The seaman saluted and Charles looked at the horizon. How did he not notice the architecture and the other intricately made ships in the dock? Charles thanked the seaman and made his way over to Akim and Scott.
"Y'know, I haven't actually been to Qahira," Scott was saying to Akim.
"Mate, you'll love it. Desert on one side, coast on the other. The bazaar's got all sorts of exotic treasures. I bought some when we came here last. We needed to restock supplies, so we parked here for a bit and took a bit of shore leave." Akim clapped Scott on the shoulder.
"Unfortunately for you two, us senior officers are strictly here on business. The other members of the crew aren't even leaving the dock." Charles leant against the mast and Scott's face fell.
"You're telling me that for my first mission back with you guys, we can go to a new, amazing country, and I'm not even allowed to do some tourism?" Scott put one of his hands on his hip.
"Nope. We're here for information only. It wouldn't be fair if I allowed you to shop, but didn't allow the others." Charles smiled as Scott cursed.
"Fuck. Well, s'pose we'd better get on with our business then, before I end up sneaking off and buying trinkets." Scott nudged Charles as the ship came to a stop and the anchor rattled on its way down into the water.
"Come on then." Charles pushed himself off of the mast and walked through the two lines of saluting crew members. The boarding plank had been lowered, letting him enter the very hot country of Qahira.