Mar 6

Mar 6 Queen of the Seas (The Pirate Queen Series Book 1) - James Fuller

Queen of the Seas (The Pirate Queen Series Book 1) by James Fuller

Book excerpt

The afternoon sun was warm, and the air off the Atlantic coast of Catark was humid, as it was most days during this mild summer in Portugal. The smell of the sea followed inland for several miles before it dissipated within the woodlands and high-rolling hills, where those who had the means worked easier jobs on land. But if you asked a fisherman or sailor, they would all say land lovers lack the courage to face the vengeful sea gods daily. Or that they lacked the fortitude to pull lines and nets and sail across the open waters to ports far and wide, battling pirates, storms, and sea monsters alike.

In truth, it was a far simpler reason they all knew about, but none liked to think about or say it aloud. The status quo kept them where they were. If you were born to a farmer, you farmed as your father farmed, and his father farmed as your children would farm. If you were born to a fisherman, you fished. So long as you had clothes on your back and food in your belly, you had nothing to complain about—or so the preachers in church preached.

Callisto picked up another dusty rock from the roadway and packed it into her leather slingshot. It went above her head, gaining speed with each spin as she targeted an old rotting stump. With a quick snap of her wrist and the release of her index finger, the stone shot through the air, clipping the outside bark of the stump.

“’Twas a good shot,” a loving voice said from behind her, “but you forgot to exhale before the release.”

“No, I didn’t!” Callisto proclaimed defensively, with a discouraged frown, nearly taking up her ten-year-old face.

“I did everything you said! I did, I swear it, papa!”

Her father rustled her shoulder-length coal-black hair. “I am sure you think you did, wee one, but I was watching you with a careful eye. You inhaled instead of exhaled. Easy enough mistake to confuse when one is thinking too hard about the task they want to achieve.”

Stomping her feet in frustration, she felt like throwing the sling to the ground and leaving it there forever. “I will never get it right!”

He burst out laughing, his sunbaked face wrinkling up in delight. “You’ve been practicing nay more than half a morning, and already you want to accept defeat? Already you are three times better than either of your two brothers after nearly two weeks of trying. But no, you’re right, little one, you might as well give my sling back and never think of it again. A girl could never hope to master it anyways.” He did his best to hide his knowing smirk.

Callisto’s eyes burned with hurt at her father’s words. How dare he say such a thing to her!

“I’ll show you what a girl can do!” She snatched a round stone from the ground.

Soon the slingshot was whirling through the air again, but this time, Callisto steadied herself, felt the movements of her shoulder, arm, and wrist, and most importantly, the airflow throughout her lungs. She locked on her target, exhaled, and fired.

The small stone buzzed through the air and struck true, hitting the stump near dead center with a loud thud.

Callisto squealed with glee; all thoughts of forfeiting were gone. “I told you I could do it!” she boldly claimed to her father.

“I never doubted you for a second, my little sea slug.”

“But you told me to give up. That a girl never could do this.”

“Aye, I did just that,” he knelt beside her, his sea-green eyes staring into their near-perfect counterpart, “but the real question is do you know why I did?”

He was testing her; she knew it. He always found ways to push her wit, strength, or endurance whenever they found time together, which sadly was not nearly as often as she would have liked. Life as a fisherman left little time for anything else.

“Because you wanted me to quit? Hoping I’d grow up to be more a lady, so you could marry me off to some rich man, so you no longer had to work so hard?” She knew this wasn’t true, but he often joked about it.

“If only I could ever believe a lady could be made out of the likes of you. I might work twice as hard for the money to send you to a fancy school to learn!” he countered. “But you are a lost cause, my grimy little sea slug! Now, why did I say those things?”

She thought hard this time as they started walking again. What he had said had hurt her feelings and made her angry, but it was because she had been mad that she had focused harder on what she was doing. Because of that need to prove her father wrong, she believed she had been able to hit the stump the second time.

“You knew it would drive me to try harder and prove I could do it.” She gasped in excitement.

“See, you aren’t as simple as your two brothers claim you to be,” he teased. “You can do anything, my little sea slug, anything you put that little sluggy mind to.” He tousled her dirty hair again. “Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

He looked up at the sky. The sun had reached its zenith and would now begin its slow descent. “Come now. We had best get moving. I mustn’t be late for this meeting.”

Within the hour, the pair came to a large estate on the hillside overlooking the coast. It was one of the most beautiful places Callisto had ever seen. Fig, olive, and apple trees lined the grounds in neat rows. Behind the house, grapevines cascaded up the gentle slopes until they disappeared over the tops. Dozens of workers worked methodically and with great care, knowing full well the bite of a whip was never far off as guards patrolled.

Callisto was in awe as she stepped off the dusty road and out of her wicker sandals onto the softest, greenest grass she had ever seen or felt in her life. “This place is amazing, papa!”

Her father looked concerned and anxious. “Yes, my little slug, it is very nice here. But we must not waste time. Sir Gaspar will be waiting for me.”

“Oh, come now, Simao, let the girl enjoy the grass,” Tito Gaspar said, walking into view from behind a large, manicured bush in the shape of a great bear as he ate a handful of fresh grapes.

Tito Gaspar was a portly man who had enjoyed his station of wealth in vast excess. His balding head was slick with greasy sweat from the mild afternoon sun. His silken robes hung over him like they would a boulder, and the buttons of his waistcoat worked hard to keep his belly from bulging too far out.

“Likely the first time in her life she has ever felt such a lush and soft thing on such tiny, calloused feet.”

“Oh, it is, sir.” Callisto beamed with excitement.

If the owner of this beautiful place said it was okay for her to do so, then her father would not object. Certainly, that was all he had been worried about.

“It feels so wonderful. You are so very lucky to live here, sir!”

She got down and rolled across the grass, nearly rolling straight into one of the servants tending a small rose bush.

“That I am, my dear girl,” Gaspar grinned, “but luck had nothing to do with it. I worked hard to achieve all you see before you and far more than this.”

Callisto returned to her feet, not even bothering to brush herself off. “What do you do?”

“Be silent, child! Do not bother Sir Gaspar. We didn’t come all this way for you to waste his time with all your silly questions,” her father snapped; though there was little anger in his words, there was something else.

“Not at all, Simao!” With less than friendly intent, Gaspar rested a firm, meaty paw upon his shoulder. “It is a good question indeed, young lady. One that I think we could all do with an answer.” He crouched beside the young girl, his knees protesting from his great bulk. He reached into his pocket and produced a small bushel of red grapes. “Would you like some?”

Callisto’s eyes widened avidly. She had only ever eaten a few grapes in her life when she and her brothers had found them half-smashed along the roadside. “I—I—would love some.” She looked to her father who gave a slight nod, but his eyes seemed worried.

She took the small bunch and quickly popped one into her mouth. The taste was exquisite and made her whole body shudder as if she had just had a bucket of cold well water dumped upon her.

“Now, to answer your question. I manage people,” he waved his hand around his estate, “like all the people you see here. I manage them all, they work for me, and in exchange for that work, I provide them with food and shelter. Some even make a wage in coin, depending on their skill and what they do for me.”

Callisto was barely listening, she was too enthralled with the flavors and sensation assaulting her taste buds, but she nodded anyway, not wanting this man to think she wasn’t listening.

“I also manage other people,” he turned a scornful eye to Simao, “like your father and many others from your little town below.”

“Other fishermen?” Callisto asked, her curiosity piquing now that this nice man had mentioned her father worked for him. It was something she hadn’t known before.

“Yes, several of the fishermen work for me. I buy much of the fish they bring in at a fair price to sell it to others further away inland. Now, part of my job managing people is to make sure they are doing their job and doing it to the best of their ability.” He waved his hands around him at all his estate had. “None of this could be possible if I didn’t, and if I didn’t keep a watchful eye on those who work for me and my investments with them.”

Callisto finished the grapes and nodded. She smiled at her father, who looked pale and unwell suddenly, and she wondered if the long walk in the sun had been too much for him today.

“Now, you might be too young to remember the big storm that came through here two summers ago. But in that horrible storm, your papa’s boat was damaged really, really badly.” Again, Gaspar glared at her father. “So badly that your poor old papa couldn’t afford to fix it on his own. I am sure you understand that he can’t catch fish with no boat, and no fish means no food or coin to put on the table for you and your family to survive.”