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Riptide; Chapter 2

Chapter 2

By Katarzyna CrevanPublished 10 months ago 6 min read
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I lounge in the hammock, gently swaying with the bobbing of the ship. The sailors down here also assigned to patching sails chat and laugh. I'd normally join them, but I'm not really in the mood. I know Admiral Coswik means well, but it doesn't change the fact that I'd been a captain for nearly five years now. Most captains were sailing without admirals within two years. And it wasn't just my 'temper' that was keeping that from happening, as much as all the admirals I had ever been under wanted to cite it. If it wasn't for the war starting before my final review, I'd have the right to sail alone.

Who was I kidding? I was the princess. If I had been given my own ship before the war, they'd have stuck me under an admiral anyway. They'd have found some excuse for it. I should just be grateful it was Coswik I had been placed under.

"So, did all those embroidery lessons finally come in handy?" Liam, my first mate, asks as he drops into the hammock I'm in, setting it rocking beyond its steady pace.

I pause in my sewing to give him a look. "Your lack of understanding in the difference between sewing and embroidery is highly apparent."

Liam rolls his eyes. "It's all done with a needle. How different can it all be, Hannele?"

I snort, resuming my stitching. "Very. You should try embroidery sometime. Maybe then you'll finally remember the difference."

"Anyway," Liam continues on, ignoring my suggestion, "Admiral Coswik sent me to send you to him." I look up again. He's staring at the far wall, expression hard and unreadable. "There's been a. . . development."

A development Admiral Coswik wanted to see me about and Liam was concerned about? It couldn't possibly be good news, but I doubted Admiral Coswik actually needed me to make whatever decision was necessary. Yet if he had sent for me. . . What could possibly be going wrong now?

I pass the sail I'm working on to Liam. He accepts it without complaint.

When I emerge on the main deck, the sky is clear and those manning the deck don't seem alarmed. Nothing seemed to be going wrong. Why was I being summoned? I let my eyes scan the deck. They land on Admiral Coswik standing on the foredeck by the wheel. He stares out across the sea, expression as hard as Liam's.

I make my way across the deck, waving off the sailors who go to salute.

"Admiral Coswik," I call as I step onto the foredeck. "You wanted to see me?"

The sailor next to him, an ensign, watching something through a spyglass speaks before he does. "Bearing confirmed, Admiral. They're heading this way."

Admiral Coswik's lips go impossibly thinner. I turn so I can follow the ensign's line of sight. What I can only assume is the ship we spotted earlier has drawn nearer. Even from this distance, I can tell it's massive, larger than ours. As to whether it was a trader or a man-of-war, it's hard to say. I can't see its colors flying, but I'm going to assume they've been confirmed. I glance up at our standing mizzenmast. We still have no flag up.

If Admiral Coswik hadn't flown any flags, the ship coming this way probably wasn't friendly. So why were they coming this way? For nothing good, that was certain.

A sudden thought comes to me. Why hadn't I thought of it earlier?

"Why don't we fly the warning colors?" I ask.

I look back as Admiral Coswik's gaze turns to me. He considers for a moment then nods. "A good idea, but I'm afraid it's a bit late for that. They'll probably see through that charade."

I study him in turn for a moment. Considering his response, I highly doubted it was a merchant or traveling ship. The way he says it implies they'd come anyway. A merchant or traveling ship wouldn't risk it, even if they did assume it was a charade. "What colors?" I ask. Who was heading this way?

"The ship is Gavalish," Admiral Coswik replies, eyes moving back to the ship. "They've since put up a black, a barred blue and white, and a purple pennant."

Gavalish. Better than Rivetian, but not by much considering they were allies. At least the Gavalish weren't dead set on killing my family and me.

Black; a warning that they were armed and ready to fight. Barred blue and white; a warship. Both flags that we would be flying under normal circumstances. And a purple pennant. We had one but rarely flew it out in waters that weren't friendly. My purple pennant edge with gold would only announce my presence and make our ship a target for our enemies.

That's when I realize he hadn't stated the pennant's edging. Was it white? Was it an ambassador's ship? Or was it red, signifying the ship was being manned by one of their nobles?

An ambassador might be willing to offer help, even if we were enemies. A noble might just be curious, wanting to see if anything can be gained from this wounded ship flying no colors in open water.

"What edging?" I ask.

Admiral Coswik is silent. He watches the ship draw closer for a moment. "It's Prince Rayan Arnav's flagship."

I can feel myself still. Prince Rayan, like any Gavalish royal, was renowned for his prowess on the waves. Before the war, even pirate ships feared him. The Gavalish were only involved because of their long-standing treaty with Rivetan. All our intelligence had shown that Prince Rayan was refraining from directly involving himself in the war. Why was he out here? I suppose it was possible he didn't share his mother's sentiment towards the Rivetians, but would he really be trying to make a move for the throne in the middle of a war? Not that anyone really knew much of the inner workings of Gavaland. They were always guarded, even toward their allies. What information we did have we rarely relied heavily upon.

"Should we be preparing to fight?" I ask, suddenly glad to have Admiral Coswik here.

Admiral Coswik merely shakes his head. "Even if we were at full capacity, we'd have trouble standing against a Gavalish warship." That's why we were losing the war on the sea. The Rivetians were getting their ships from Gavaland. The ship we had been fighting was the same size as ours and we had only survived because of the storm. We had gotten lucky. The Prince's flagship would be much larger than ours. "Fly the distress and white flag. We can only hope the lack of the Rivetian flag means Prince Cadoc isn't with him."

I look back at the ship, a new fear settling in my gut. That ship was coming to ours, whether we wanted it to or not. We couldn't defend ourselves if we wanted to. If the Rivetian-Gavalish alliance was as shakey as we hoped it was, the lack of a Rivetian flag could be just to spite the Rivetian Prince. If Prince Cadoc was on that ship, I could be running out of time.

Young AdultSeriesLoveAdventure
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About the Creator

Katarzyna Crevan

Hi! I enjoy writing and have been writing for some years now. I hope you enjoy my writing!

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