The harbor was busy in the afternoon. Sailors and sweethearts clamored around the port, hugging and rejoicing in the other’s presence. The breeze inflated the sails as the gulls caw around the cargo. Horses pulled street carriages, and aboard them, schoolgirls fluttered their lashes at dashing townsmen. They, to the dismay of the headmistress, winked in return.
Some of the sailors staggered onto land and immediately headed off to the nearby tavern, pockets full of whatever pay they received from their Captain. They were ready to spend it all on beer and entertainment. Others returned home to spend time with their families, and she eyed those ones enviously.
Katherine returned her wandering eyes to HMS Dolphin, a 24-gun frigate with beautiful white sails. It was going to return to England soon, and she needed to catch a ride. Her fingers curled around the shiv in the pocket of her overcoat. She heard of a woman there, who held command of a few ships.
The wild stories of the woman had plagued her dreams. She was carefree, powerful, alluring. Men fell to her cunning, ships were claimed by her strategy, and officials were deceived by her many masks.
I want to be like her, was the first thing Katherine Walker had thought. Not a street crawler, not an orphan, not a whore. She didn’t want to be who she was—she wanted power. She needed to find this woman and her crew, and if she had to beg on her knees, she would. She was willing to work her way up to a position of respect and honor.
Creeping back into the crowded streets, dressed in male garb, Katherine casted one more longing gaze at the Dolphin and its beautiful white sails against the ocean blue.
---
She leaned against the wall of the table by the door, wrinkling her nose at the sour smells of the tavern. Those sailors were mostly gone—on their ships, probably.
“The Dolphin is sailin’ to England tonight,” the tavern owner said in response to a scruffy man’s inquiry.
“She is a beautiful girl,” somebody of no particular significance commented, and the others around the counter nodded and huffed in agreement.
Tonight! Katherine stood up slowly, discreetly pouring the contents of what they claimed to be ale onto the nasty floor. She removed herself from the tavern without attracting attention and headed to the harbor.
The frigate stood there, proud and tall, sails aglow with silver upon dark waves. Sailors were loading up cargo already, so she set her plan in action.
She simply walked toward the water. With her shiv in her pocket, she pretended to be somebody examining another ship, but quietly slipped up the gangway into the Dolphin as the sailors dusted off their hands to take a break beside the salty seawater. She had practiced climbing up ropes and walking up boards with makeshift ladders for this day.
She spotted the entrance to the sub-floor and snuck toward it, careful not to disturb the dozing men on guard duty. When she reached the entrance, Katherine peered into the darkness.
And climbed down.
According to the information she had gathered in the past few days, the cargo hatch should be somewhere in the back of this ship. Chills crawled up her spine as she continued toward the back. Where were all the sailors? They had been busy since they arrived at the Boston port, but the Dolphin was quiet.
Katherine came across the crates soon enough and found a stack of them to hide behind. She lowered herself behind a few crates, scanning the area in the dark. A shadow flickered in her vision, and as she turned toward it, alert and frightened, something slammed against her head, and everything was dark.
---
“Wake up, girl!” somebody sneered at her with a barely matured voice, and she blinked open her eyes. Light filtered through a crisscross of wooden bars above her, and she gasped. Katherine sat up straight, twisting around to find herself imprisoned in a dank brig.
The boy looked only older than her by a couple years, and he wore a cruel smirk on his weary face. Somebody was overworking the cabin boys.
“Who are you?” she asked, hands and eyes skimming over her clothes and body. Nothing was missing. Her hands brushed the hard blade through her clothes, and she thought, Not even the shiv.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the boy remarked, pleased with himself.
Katherine looked up and gave him a bored look.
When he realized she wouldn't give him more than that, he called, “Captain! She’s awake!” and shot her a threatening glare.
Finally noticing the sounds from above deck, Katherine eyed the pistol at the boy’s side. “They let you have a gun? Not sure why they’d trust you with it.”
“Shut up, girl,” the boy snapped, hand sliding to his gun. He dropped his hovering hand when he realized her intention.
“Maybe when I get out of here, I can teach you how to shoot.” Katherine grinned, and it was the kind of smile that showed fangs.
The boy spat at her before light filtered into the brig, and several well-uniformed men stepped down.
One of them had on a lovely, black hat—British style.
“Why, hello, Captain,” she purred as the three newcomers stalked toward her cell. The boy shot her one last glare and retreated to the hatch. At least he knew his place.
“And who may you be?” the captain asked as he stopped before her cell. He wasn’t tall. His features were on the finer side, and his narrow hips showed off an elegant sword. At least he had manners and hadn’t donned one of those ridiculous wigs.
She scooted to the wall and crossed her legs in front of her. The men looked down at her with distaste. Only the Captain's eyes stayed on her face.
“I haven’t the honor of knowing your name, Captain,” was her only response.
Katherine swore his companions' eyes almost bulged at that.
“Captain Jocelyn,” the man replied coolly. The man to his left, however, did not seem to have as much self-control.
“Treat the Captain with respect!” The wig-wearing one’s voice was rugged, but higher than she expected.
“Pleased to be of your acquaintance, Captain. I’m Katherine,” she replied, ignoring the remark and giving them a lopsided smile, which wasn’t too different from the one she had given the boy.
“Now, Katherine, why were you on the Seahorse last night?” Captain Jocelyn asked. He sounded quite curious. Why would a woman be on a warship for God’s sake?
But Katherine’s mind spun. The Seahorse? What about the Dolphin? Was this the wrong ship? “Er…”
“Women bring misfortune on a sailing ship. We’re delaying our trip to England because of you,” Jocelyn explained. The men at his side were throwing daggers at her.
“Sailors and their superstitions.” She scoffed at the idea, but she might have just gotten into a very sticky situation. “I would like to go to England, Captain Jocelyn.”
The men all exchanged a glance, disbelief etched into every sea-worn feature of their faces.
“Didn’t you just hear what the Captain said, girl?” the black-haired one hissed.
“Hey, you gotta admit,” Katherine said, gesturing to herself, “I give a good view.”
“Now she’s whoring herself, Captain!” the wig one snarled.
The Captain, however, was scraping his eyes down her, and she shifted nervously. This was not part of the plan.
His eyes snapped back to her face, which stretched with a toothy grin. “You’re rather pretty for a girl, but sadly, I'd like to keep the integrity of our men. Especially the ones with darlings already.” He jerked his chin toward her. “Toss her out.”
His two companions unlocked the door to her cell. Katherine’s hand inched toward her pocket as they neared. Before they could grab her, she slipped her shiv from her pocket into her hand and sliced it down the arm of the wig-wearer. She ducked under them and sprinted toward the door, where Captain Jocelyn’s sword was already drawn.
She prepared her shiv, diminished any thoughts of her possible death, and made for the space between the door and the Captain. To her surprise, the Captain didn’t go for her. Rather, he whipped the sword out to the two men. They grunted in surprise and stumbled back. That gave the Captain enough time to slam the door in their faces.
Katherine was already at the hatch, grappling with the boy. She took the gun from his trembling hands, flipped it once, and shot at the space next to the black-haired man’s head.
The traumatized man yelped and covered his face. “Don’t!”
She turned back toward the boy and smiled sweetly. “That’s how you shoot.” Then, instead of returning the gun, she slipped it into a pocket and turned to face Captain Jocelyn, who pulled at his hat.
Auburn hair tumbled down, falling past his shoulders. Or better, her shoulders.
Katherine’s jaw must’ve hit the floor. “You’re…”
She winked at her before facing the jailed men and speaking in a cold, feminine tone, “I don’t like it when my crew treat women with such disrespect. This wasn’t the first offense, mind you.”
“You’re a girl? A she-devil was the Captain?” The wig-haired one gasped, clutching his injured arm.
“That’s right. And this she-devil,” the Captain said with a smirk, “just took over the ship.”
“W-where’s the real Captain?” the other asked, shock still in his eyes.
“Captain Robert Jocelyn is on a short leave in the East Indies. The last I saw him, he was flirting with some lady.” The Captain headed toward her, that smirk still glued to her face.
“You can’t just leave us down here!” the two men called out, almost in synchrony.
She cut them a goading look. “Oh, yes, I can.” And that was that.
Katherine watched in amazement as her idol just put down two middle-aged men. “You’re Mary.”
The boy just stared at them, mouth agape, even as the Captain gave her a kind smile.
“Let’s talk more on deck, shall we?”