Page 36 of Scourge of the Shores
The New Future
Storm Rider sliced through the waves, leaving the sea dragon’s lair and its dark, battle-scarred waters behind.
But Robert lingered at the stern, his gaze fixed on the horizon where he’d left Danna.
The dark waters were a fading shadow, swallowed by the sea, and with it—her.
His grip tightened on the gunwale’s rigging as the wind whipped through strands of hair torn loose from the scarf at his brow.
He had told her he would return. Had he meant it? Or had he only said it to ease the ache in his chest, to soften the cruel truth that he was leaving her behind?
No. He’d made a vow.
" A captain belongs to his ship ," his father had always said. But in the moment, the words rang hollow.
A gust of wind kicked up salt spray, wetting his lips with brine. Danna tasted of moonflowers. He shut his eyes, willing the memory away.
Storm Rider ’s crew secured the spike from Cain’s mane to the ship’s main mast, a grim, proud token of their victory. A prophecy from the DeepMother was his. The spike had fallen on his deck. But what did it mean? What would be his fate? Would the DeepMother be kind or cruel with her magic?
He watched until the islander’s ships were no more than a speck on the horizon.
“Ye thinkin’ the ship’ll steer itself?” Frank’s voice boomed beside him.
Robert jolted but hid it with a smooth step off the gunwale. He looked up at Frank. “Only baffled that we made it out alive. Not all of us were as lucky.”
Not all of them were free either. He swallowed hard under Frank’s firm stare.
Frank crossed his arms. “Y’know, for a man who just gutted a sea dragon, ye look like rot.”
Robert scoffed. “Just thinkin’, Frank.”
Frank’s stare didn’t waver. “Aye. Thinkin’,” he muttered with a knowing hum.
Robert’s jaw clenched.
Frank leaned in slightly. “Ye left somethin’ behind, didn’t ye?” His voice wasn’t accusing—just knowing. “Tell me, Captain—was that a choice, or did ye just let it happen?”
Robert’s grip tightened on the railing. “As ye said, they’d carve her up.” His voice was low, edged with certainty.
But Frank didn’t give in. “Aye. But ye still gonna fight for her?”
Robert leered at the seasoned Quartermaster, wondering how much he could trust the man. “Would ye still follow me if I did?”
Frank’s smirk spread slowly across his lips. “After guttin’ a sea dragon . . . anywhere, Captain.”
His piercing stare made Robert wonder if Frank was lying, but Frank drew in a deep breath at last with a hearty laugh.
“Ye did it, Captain Jaymes. Yer father’d be proud,” he said and landed a heavy hand on Robert’s shoulder.
Robert smiled, adjusting the hat on his head.
“But don’t get mushy on me, Captain,” Frank said with a low chuckle.
Robert’s smile turned to thinned lips as he approached the helm, wishing Danna were beside him.
“Where to?” Frank asked.
Robert hesitated. Just for a second. Long enough for Frank to say, “Keep yer focus.”
Robert dipped his forehead to the wheel handle and took a deep breath. He lifted his gaze, the sun in his eyes. “Set yer course to Rogue’s Isle,” Robert called out. “For tales await, and we’ve names to build!”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” The crew’s unified shout rose on deck.
Frank eyed him. “Rogue’s Isle?” His mouth twitched. “After that?”
Robert nodded with a pursed lip. “After that,” he said with a smug grin.
Frank gave him a firm slap on the shoulder. He had earned Frank’s complete respect and his loyalty. That would ensure the crew’s respect and loyalty would soon follow.
“Yo-ho,” Robert said as Frank descended to the main deck, barking orders. The wind filled the sails. The crew erupted in song and cheers.
Robert played the part. He smirked, called them seadogs, and let the wind whip through his coat like a king surveying his empire. But beneath it all, the gnawing sense of loss remained. Yes, he had a story to tell and a legend to craft, but they were all distractions from who he left behind.
Robert’s gaze drifted to the spike bolted to the mast—proof of a victory he wasn’t sure he deserved.
Cain was dead, for now. But some beasts left deeper wounds than teeth or claws.
The sea had given him power. The sea had given him a legend—one that whispered the beast would rise again, perhaps even under his command.
But the sea had taken Danna.
He glanced back over his shoulder at the endless stretch of waves where his woman was. With the sea demon’s trophy, the North Sea belonged to him. And like everything else, he’d eventually bend it to his will and take what he wanted. Take what he loved.