Daughter of Neverwoode

There was something inherently risky about roving the streets of Llundyn in the dead of night, regardless of efforts to bring the town into submission under an honorable reign. Doubtless the queen would have their heads if she knew of their pursuits, though she’d have to find out first.

“You need not accompany me. Stars only know the hell there’ll be to pay upon your return to the palace.” James Much wasn’t wrong, his eagerness to be on his way overriding his unrivaled civility. The pair scuttled past pitch-black alleyways and decaying shanties lining the seafront, the creaky boards beneath their feet making each step an agonizing exercise.

For all their efforts to traverse in silence, they may as well have announced themselves to the waterfront. It was no matter. They were nearly there, and they’d seen nary a soul, the eventide surf crashing ashore all around the harbor providing at least some semblance of cover.

“Ella is nothing if not forgiving,” King Riccard muttered, his words carried on the ocean breeze toward his companion. “She’d have to be, given our union. Imagine being married to me.”

“Yes…imagine.” James smirked, running his only remaining hand through the dark, tousled waves of his hair. The loss of his left had been a hefty blow, with the former sheriff of Llundyn having removed it by force with a saber and a smile, his devilry leaving the young sea captain abruptly bereft of usefulness.

Certainly, James had found his place, readily pillaging from the wealthiest of Llundyniens with Ella and her merry men. It had been the adventure of a lifetime—and a fulfilling endeavor at that. But something more had gone missing alongside his hand.

He’d always found purpose in the workings of them, having performed the duties of a carpenter at Locksley Manor for a large portion of his life. Indeed, they were his livelihood, and while he knew that he would never be on his own, never be left to fend for himself, the last thing he wanted was to be served.

Ella, the newly crowned Queen of Llundyn, had been his most faithful friend, their comradery carrying them through tragedy and triumph. She’d been there on that fateful eve, cared for him, bandaged his wounds. She’d blamed herself for his predicament, though it had had nothing to do with her. His decisions were his and his alone, rendering her guilt pointless where he was concerned.

What followed had been the epitome of success, with the pair having seen the starving citizenry return to prosperity, even as they helped preserve the rightful king through an attempted coup.

But those harrowing months had evaporated into monotony with order restored. King Riccard was just, ruling alongside Ella, who’d easily maintained her humility, despite her lofty new position. His bandmates had found their places within the palace, quickly achieving success in their most unexpected endeavors and readily adapting to their ever-changing roles.

James, however, had sought refuge far away from the confines of the castle walls. He’d been apprenticed to a sea captain and had quickly risen within the ranks, performing each of his tasks in prompt compliance and earning a sterling reputation as he went. It didn’t hurt that he’d been raised upon the waters as a boy, having seen much of the continent of Fayble with his late sea-master father as they skirted the coastline.

A figure in the distance brought the pair up short. They’d been largely ignored until then, the slumbering town proving to be an easy companion with which to travel incognito. She was stood upon the wharf facing the ocean, her cloak fluttering in the air. It was almost as if she’d materialized out of nothing, but then again, that was Ella’s way.

She turned as they approached, a knowing smile upon her lips. “Two of my favorite boys gallivanting about without guardians. How did you manage to slip away unnoticed?”

Ric took to her side, grinning from ear to ear when he slipped his arm beneath her mantle, pulling her nearer as he encircled her waist. “Perhaps I’d ask the same of you.”

Doubtless, their lack of guards was potentially dangerous—perhaps even stupid. But the king and queen of Llundyn had loathed giving up the freedoms of Sherwood Forest for the shackles of courtly responsibility. Even so, this—their endless love and adoration for one another—had always seen them through their duties and sustained them in uncertainty.

James shifted his weight from one foot to the other before looking away. The pair never flaunted their affection for one another. It was merely the natural state of things, and he’d be lying if he weren’t to admit that it had him mildly jealous.

“We were to celebrate your upcoming voyage this evening, but something told me you wouldn’t wait,” Ella said, withdrawing from her king enough to look at James.

“You know that’s not for me.” He gazed at the water, his heart full of conflicted longing as he wished to be on his way, but leaving his friends caused a bitterness he couldn’t quite describe. A celebration of his impending departure would simply be too much to bear.

Ella nodded as if that was the response she’d expected. Of course she had, for she was there, awaiting his sneaky escape from Llundyn. She knew him, perhaps better than anybody else in the whole of Fayble. “You two have become quite the conspirators of late.” She poked her husband in the ribs. “How will you ever do without him?”

“How will you?” Ric returned.

“You speak as if I’m to meet my end,” James added. “I’ve every intention of returning unscathed.”

“We know nothing of these people, these pirates of Wylewoode.” Ella grimaced, her features pinched with worry.

The threat had revealed itself in only a week past when James and his crew had been targeted by what they’d later found to be a large iron ball, launched from the foreign ship by an explosive charge that had left a sizable hole in the heart of his vessel. The siege had taken them all by surprise, if for no other reason than that Wylewoode was not known to harbor many citizens, let alone seafaring ships.

“I must go, Elle.” James’ eagerness for a new adventure quickly surpassed his desire to continue on in the familiarity of his Llundynien routine as he strode down the pier to his beloved vessel with Ric and Ella at his heels.

He could feel every ounce of their trepidation as they moved down the length of the dock behind him. Never would they force him to go. Hell, they hadn’t even asked him—but somehow it felt right.

Ella paused, eyeing the mammoth ship with wide, bright eyes. “Your crew…”

James could finish her sentence, even as he felt the disquiet churning beneath her polite exterior. His sailors were rough around the edges, with some old and some mere boys. They were surly, bitter, lost—some of the last people with which one would expect to endeavor around the continent. “They’re a sorry lot, I admit.” He grinned, offering a shrug. “But for some reason, they fall in line. We manage to make a way. Maybe we aren’t all that different in the end.”

The trio fell into silence, with Ella averting her gaze. He hadn’t meant for his words to seem spiteful—only that he felt he finally belonged, leading his very own band of misfits on a dubious journey with an outcome that was anybody’s guess.

And he would return knowing that he’d given the voyage his all. Putting some arrogant pirates in their place along the way was an added benefit, allowing him to defend his kingdom, to prove himself worthy of the inherent trust from his beloved sovereigns.

“Well,” Ella managed, “I’d be remiss in sending you on your way without a little something.” She reached beneath her cloak, presenting him with a wide, flat box tied shut with a hunter-green ribbon. Plucking the cords with delicate fingers, she opened the case, offering the contents to James, her expression bashful.

“A hook?”

“I felt silly,” Ella continued, pulling the gleaming silver crook from the velvet-padded box before handing it to Ric. She cradled the curved metal appendage, smiling at last. “Still do. But I’ve seen them used all over, both on ships and around the harbor, and I thought…”

James shook his head, floored by her foresight. “It’s perfect. I admit I’d never considered the possibility before now, but to have the use of my hand—or my hook, rather? It’s ingenious.”

“As ever,” Ric beamed. “If there was any doubt about the wisdom behind the Crown, it was laid to rest by this Queen of Shadows.”

“Doubtless,” James agreed as Ella moved toward him, rolling up his shirtsleeve. She attached the polished hook to the brace covering his forearm, a task simpler than he’d have guessed. He held his arm up, the moonlight bouncing off the contours of the hook as he shifted it. “It’s effortless. Shall I test its usefulness on Sheriff Dane?”

Ella furrowed her brows, biting her lip to suppress a smile while Ric laughed openly. It was reassuring to James, their ability to see the humor in his remark, even if it was a little dark.

“Ahoy there, Captain!” came the familiar voice of his quartermaster. Second in command, William Smee was an eccentric sort—a man James had known for the whole of his life as he’d served in the same role for James’ father. He made his way down the gangplank, blowing the wild springs of his salt-and-pepper hair from his face with a hearty puff of air.

“Mr. William…” Ella breathed as recognition dawned. Not long ago, he’d been the very man who had prepared her tiny band of heroes for the ball that had been their greatest strike against tyranny.

“Alas, I’m no longer a purveyor of borrowed goods, Your Majesty.” Smee bowed deeply, first to Ella then to Ric, his face an unabashed mask of delight as he clapped James on the shoulder. “I always knew we’d set sail again someday! Your father would be proud.”

“This feels wrong.” Ella glanced from Smee to the ship behind him, her countenance troubled. “We know nothing of the people in Wylewoode, save that it’s where criminal exiles are frequently sent to live out their days. And goodness knows there can’t be many remaining, given the dangers lurking within that savage territory. There’s a reason those lands are avoided at all costs, and we don’t even know if any of this is real! It feels like you’re chasing a ghost, Much!”

James moved toward her, wrapping her in his arms as she angrily wiped her eyes. She always worked to control her emotions, to be the unflappable rock upon which the kingdom could steadily thrive. Her concern for his wellbeing was nearly enough to have him second-guessing himself, but the prospect of leaving his country exposed to the dangers of what did, admittedly, feel somewhat like a phantasm…

Well, he simply couldn’t justify it.

“It felt real enough to me,” he whispered to her alone. He took her by the shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “The hole in my vessel was no accident, and the enemy ship? It appeared out of nowhere, and—”

“And I can’t lose you.” She fisted his cloak, choking back her tears. “We cannot lose you. Your kingdom and your people need you.”

James took a deep breath. Ella was as dear as the closest of sisters, and he knew she meant only to keep him safe. “I must go. This threat to Llundyn cannot stand. Whether it’s a figment of our own minds or a legitimate menace remains to be seen, but one way or another, it will be dealt with. I’ll return before you’ve missed me.”

He kissed her cheek before backing away from his beloved friends, offering a wave and a smile in parting. Ric saluted him, taking to his wife’s side as they watched him make his way up the gangplank behind Smee, whose steps bounced with obvious expectation.

When he reached the deck, James refused to turn around. Moving forward was the only way. “Haul out!” he cried to his crew, and as the ship came alive with the tumult of departure, he finally found peace as he was lost to the chaos of the sea.