Page 1 of Wicked Tides #1

Vidar “ Bone Heart”

We are debris on a monstrous tide.

Leaves in a violent storm.

~The Acts of Man

A man who seeks to control the sea is a fool.

No ship is big enough. No man is strong enough. The ocean is the mother of all destruction and to sail on her raging waters means a thousand lucky moments or one unlucky death. It is a gamble I relish.

But today is not my day and I smiled into the brutal wind knowing it.

The skies were gray and the rain beat down on my sun-chapped cheeks, chilling me to my bones.

But the weather didn’t know that I could not be swayed by the grip of an icy tempest. I held onto the shroud with one hand, watching as the Burning Rose rocked and stooped over undulating waves.

Her crimson sails were rolled up tight as the storm pelted the deck.

Men were shouting frantically, holding on to whatever they could as the ocean reminded us all of her unyielding power.

But she would never get fear out of me. Never again .

A smile and a maniacal laugh? Perhaps.

My lips stretched, ignoring the salt water spray coating my tongue, and I laughed in the face of death and all that aided him in making the last moments of a man’s life a terrifying ride. I mused over the threat of oblivion and raised my free hand to challenge the heavens.

Do better , I thought. Do fucking better.

“Vidar!” someone shouted. Only one man could yell louder than an ocean storm. I whipped my head around, still guffawing at the ocean’s attempt to sink us, and saw Gus gripping the foremast as the ship rocked hard to one side. “You crazy fuck!”

“What?” I barked. “Never seen the bridge to hell?”

“This isn’t the bridge to hell!” He lunged for the shroud beside me and wound his arms through the thick ropes. “This is hell!”

The Burning Rose gave one more heave before the skies opened, allowing a beam of red twilight through its thick, clouded veil.

The ocean turned a violent cerise as it reflected the sun’s rays.

While the water still rocked us back and forth, the wind had all but completely died as we reached the edge of the bellowing gale.

I swept my tangled, sandy blonde locks back from my face.

My coat was pounds heavier and filled with water and my boots sloshed, but those were all minor discomforts.

Gus shook out his white beard, but his head was but a naked orb now.

We locked eyes and for a moment we just took it all in.

Then we both laughed at the stupidity of it all.

Risking our lives on the seas. Surviving storms.

Hauling barrels of heads packed in salt through the chaos.

This time, we had only two. It had been a slow couple of months.

The wicked monsters of the sea had been staying inconspicuous and they’d changed their feeding habits.

They never took to land in the same places and they rarely took on entire crews anymore.

It had made them harder to track over the years.

But I would always learn their ways. And I would always break their patterns. I would make the ocean as terrifying to them as it was to most humans who sailed its vicious waters .

“This isn’t hell,” I said, catching my breath while I could. “I’ve seen hell.”

I turned to face the painted waters, eyeing the wall of clouds toward which we were sailing. We were a day from the port. Perhaps more if we drifted further off course.

“Aye,” Gus nodded. “You’ve seen worse than hell, my boy.” He slapped my shoulder. “But ye be the devil to the spawn of hell, now. I think there may be a throne down there for you.”

“Aye,” I groaned, stooping to pick my hat up off the floor by my feet.

The leather tricorn was soaked through like everything else on deck.

I lifted it and dropped it on my head, tipping the front of it at Gus.

“I’m the devil. And we’re almost home.” I took in a deep breath of the chilled air and roared, “Off your asses, dogs, and drop the sails!”

“Dark seas, cap’n!”

“Dark fates!” I laughed.

I strode to the foredeck, staring out at the red horizon as the equally red sails untethered and caught the wind.

Red sails. The Burning Rose was known for them.

And every siren in the south sea could see them coming from a mile away. I wanted them to. For when my red sails were in view, they knew they were already dead.

We arrived in Treson Harbor with empty stomachs and soggy boots. Mullins was quick to help me unload the barrel of salt. We pulled two heads out of what was now more like a brine and stuffed them in a potato sack.

The public wasn’t fond of people carrying heads through town right in the open.

“How much do you think we’ll get for two?” Mullins asked.

Sunlight reflected off his dark skin, the glint on his bald head nearly blinding me as I tied off the sack .

“For the young one? Enough. The matron, though.” I let out a small chuckle and shrugged. “More than enough.”

“If you just sell ‘em to the damn establishments,” Uther, one of my other crewmen, started, “We could make more than—”

“We are selling them,” I grinned, raising a brow sarcastically and kicking the barrel. “Well, a bit of them.”

“Forty years of this shit,” Gus mumbled, unloading more cargo with the others, despite the state of his creaky back.

“Get what you can for the other loot,” I told him, handing the sack to Mullins. “I’ll be back tonight with our bounty.”

He tossed the sack over his shoulder and we started walking through the bustling streets inland toward the governor’s house. It was a long trek, but it would do me good after being on a ship for weeks.

The rain made the streets a muddy mess, but a bath was waiting somewhere in a sweaty brothel. Business needed to be taken care of, though. The coin came first, then the luxuries.

“I heard Paxton Smith is doubling the price he pays for tongues these days,” Mullin’s said as we hauled our loot across town. “And Madam Letty is doubling the price she pays for the ones without. She comes through once a month now, you know.”

I scoffed. “I don’t trade tongues and I don’t trade sirens with their heads attached. That dirty business is for pirates and scum.”

“Some of the men might disagree. I been listening to the chatter.” He leaned closer as if part of my crew was in earshot. “Not many hunters are coming in with anything to show for it. ‘Cept us. Word is, they think you’re picking the market clean. Leaving none for the rest of ‘em.”

“It’s not a market, Mullins. They’re wicked beasts and a hunter’s job is to kill them. Not sell their tongues and sell their bodies into slavery. The only good siren is one without her head.”

“Right. Right.”

His shutting up didn’t make me think he’d dropped the subject. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

“Out with it. ”

“Well, it’s just that we’re the best hunting ship on the waters. Why not capitalize a bit more, you know? More coin means happier crewmen.”

“You think my crew’s unhappy?” I said jokingly.

“Nah, captain. Not at all. You treat us right and all. But there’s a whole ocean of wealth out there we’re not tapping into. We bring the governor heads and we collect the bounties. But we could do more, don’t you think?”

“I think wealth looks different to you and me.” I stopped, turning to Mullins and poking him in the chest with my finger.

“See, you want to kill for the coin and you’re perfectly fine risking your life for that.

For a piece of silver or two.” I backed up a step, raising my palms up and grinning. “I kill because I like killing, mate.”

I continued walking down the muddy street. He watched me with narrowed eyes and then a smile tugged at his full lips and he shook his head.

“You are a crazy man, Vidar. Maybe too crazy for me.”

“Ahh, you say that every time we get back into town,” I laughed. “But we both know you’d be bored with any other captain.”