These sanguine tides, p.1
These Sanguine Tides, page 1
part #1 of The Tortuga & the Hare Series
Copyright © 2023 by E.S. Barrison
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
E.S. Barrison
www.esbarrison-author.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout © 2017 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover designed by MiblArt
These Sanguine Tides/E.S. Barrison. -- 1st ed.
ISBN 979-8-9873602-2-4
Dedicated to anyone looking for an adventure without judgment and fear.
And to anyone looking for an escape.
Contents
Son of Fire
An Offer from the Obsidian Ship
The Sanguine Tortuga
The Changing of the Tides
San Joya
June Lok
Lies of the Calm Tides
A Warm Bowl of Soup
Fire at Sea
The New Captain
The Star on the Map
On the Horizon
São Caméliosa
Cauterized
A Phantom Hand
The Sea Serpent
Where Loyalty Forms
The Silver Lake
The Treasure
Sail Away
Triguá
The Trade
El Limra
The Ship in the Mist
The Pyromancer
Battle of the Cobalt Hare
A Funeral For Lies
Adventure Bathed in Red
Author’s Note
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
Son of Fire
On the night of the lunar eclipse, the state militia arrested my twin brother for arson. The news came with soldiers at our front door. I answered promptly to their knocking as my mother woke from her drunken stupor. When they announced his arrest, her exhaustion fled, her hands trembling as she took the decree from the soldier’s hands.
Once they left, she turned to me with fire rising in her eyes. “Leena! Why weren’t you with your brother!?”
“I didn’t know Tristan snuck out! He didn’t wake me!” I didn’t meet her gaze. That was a lie. My brother did wake me, as he always did. This time, he had woken me in a flurry, mumbling something about honoring our father’s death from years ago.
“Pathetic!” My mother crumpled the summons in her hand. “Fix your face and come on… we better go deal with this!”
Without looking at her, I readjusted the eyepatch on the right side of my face. It’d been almost four years since I lost my eye to a pirate who came to shore to slaughter my father. I ended up in the crosshair and, in an act of revenge, the pirate spat in my face with sizzling spit, leaving me half blind. I knew my mother blamed me for my father’s death after that; if I hadn’t snuck out that night to play with the barking penguins, he might have survived. So I wore my eyepatch as an ongoing reminder of my involvement.
While Tristan carried the memory of my father’s dead body in his heart.
My mother snatched my arm after I finished adjusting my face, dragging me out of our two-room shack and down the rocky path toward the beach.
The black sands of my home burned even beneath the early morning sun. I tried my best to ignore the way it tore at my bare feet, focusing instead on the stone fortress that oversaw the sea. The Citadel of Janis dominated our home. From all corners of the island, the Citadel towered, taking up the entire southern coastline, where cannons practiced their anthem of shooting daily. Some days, Tristan and I would go to watch them, imagining our all-powerful Governor Pierce as she declared war on the pirates at sea.
Yet Tristan and I never approached the Citadel.
At least until my mother dragged me there with fury on her lips.
The soldiers greeted us outside the fortress. “Who goes there?”
“I have come to petition the imprisonment of the child, Tristan Davies,” my mother said in one breath.
“His trial is in a week,” the soldier said without flinching.
“Then let me see him.”
“He’s a prisoner of the state.”
“I have the right to see my son,” my mother said again, her voice quivering with each beat.
The soldier narrowed his eyes. “Very well. But the girl stays here.”
“No! I wanna see him!” I shouted.
“Shut it, Leena. You’re in enough trouble as it is.” My mother let go of my hand and approached the soldier.
Once my mother disappeared and another soldier took position at the door, I stomped away, grumbling to myself. I couldn’t go home; if I ventured too far, my mother would have my head. But I took the moment to walk along the path around the Citadel, keeping close to the windows so I could listen in to any conversations. I tried not to look suspicious as I walked past the soldiers marching along the sea. Multiple boats sat docked in the water, with rowboats carrying supplies to the pier on the other end of the island. In the distance, an obsidian ship captured the horizon. I couldn’t help but slow my pacing, squinting at its strange beauty.
I kept my attention on it as I paced the Citadel, staying close to the wrought-iron windows of the Citadel. The ship moved like a cloud, nearing our port. As it sailed, the soldiers repeated one word: Commeant.
My mother’s shrill voice tore my attention away from the black ship. It pooled out of the iron window a few paces from me. I couldn’t see her, the window at least two heads higher than me, but I could hear her, clear as day.
“What were you thinking?!” her voice demanded.
Tristan’s voice followed, quiet and uneasy. I had to hold my breath to hear him speak. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Ma. Really, I promise. I went out to admire the sea. Leena didn’t want to, so I went by myself. But while I was out, the moon turned red, and my hands started to burn. I tried to put it out in the water, but it didn’t stop. So I ran, hoping to take my mind off it. But…the sound of the barking penguins’ morning song startled me. I jumped, and fire exploded from my hands.”
“Fire exploded from his hands?” I said to myself. It sounded preposterous… even for my brother!
My mother didn’t yell. Her voice fell instead, almost a whisper. “I was worried this might happen.”
“What might happen?” Tristan asked.
I could almost see my mother sighing before she said, “Your father had this magic as well. It is why the pirates killed him.”
I raced back to the entrance of the Citadel after listening to my mother tell my brother a few facts about my father’s magic. I knew he served in the navy, and his death came in a fight against the pirates, but with the revelation he had magic, everything made a bit more sense. The pirates might have been jealous of him…or perhaps, saw him as a threat.
My mother provided little information beyond that my father had magic.
But as I returned, I feigned ignorance as my mother returned. She didn’t say a word to me as we walked back home.
And for the week that followed, she behaved as though Tristan didn’t wait behind bars. Every time I dared breach the subject, she cursed and slammed the door to her bedroom, leaving me alone in our tiny shack. Yet the revelation of my father’s magic continued to circle in my head. How come she never told us? Wasn’t magic inherited, anyway? Wouldn’t it have been better to know?
But she didn’t offer any clues, only telling me not to stray from the house. So, I spent the days staring out at the sea, where the obsidian ship had docked, and the traders exchanged barrels between the boats. Freshwater, jewels, and more—each of these trades held the key to our island’s success.
While I watched, I continued my wonder over one topic: why did Tristan get magic and I didn’t? Magic wasn’t common in Janis, unlike on the mainland in Gonvernnes. There had only been a handful of casters in Janis, and the only one I knew was an old seer who lived in a small floating shack. Now, I learned my father carried the same burden.
So why not me?
I stared at my fingers, willing fire to appear. How did Tristan do it?
Why him and not me?
The answer never came, leaving me strained with wonder by the day of Tristan’s trial.
That day, my mother dressed in her best island reds, painting her lips to match her clothes. She eyed me and said, “Stay here, Leena. I don’t need you snooping around.”
“Will Tristan be coming home today?” I asked.
“That is a promise I cannot make.”
I stayed put for a few minutes after my mother left. Once I was sure she had left, I snatched one of our half-filled canteens of water, then I snuck out of our shack. I hurried along the black sand beach toward the Citadel. I kept my head down as I walked, ignoring the commotion on the pier from the obsidian ship, as well as the calls of the merchants lining the pathways.
Soldiers skulked outside the Citadel, staunch in their uniforms, with emotionless eyes. I waited in the seagrass for a chance to sneak into the building. Tristan and I had become masters of surreptitious escapades. Surely, I could slip into the Citadel undetected.
My chance came with a man in a dark red coat. He strode forward, slicking his hair back as he walked. A group of adolescents carrying crates
Seeing my opportunity, I slipped into the back of the group. At the age of fourteen, no one would bat an eye.
If this man noticed me, he didn’t show any interest.
“What are you doing here today, Mr. Hackney?” A soldier asked the man.
“My crew here needs to deliver some goods to the governor. We’re heading out in the next couple of days. Would hate to forget her order.”
“Aye. In and out. Ten minutes, understood?”
“Of course.” The man called Mr. Hackney responded.
I followed his crew. The soldiers didn’t even notice me as I entered the Citadel.
I had to contain my awe as I entered.
Opulence encapsulated the insides of the Citadel. Red and orange drapery decorated the walls. Sculptures of past governors lined the hall.
Their gaze followed as I escaped Mr. Hackney’s entourage. No one ever said a word as I followed, and even as I slipped away down the hall, no one called after me.
In and out. Just like always.
So I followed the sound of a gavel to the courtroom. It echoed down the hall, past the statues, as they continued to glare at me.
A soldier sat in a chair at the end of the hallway. My heart jumped at the sight, but he didn’t move. I took a few more steps forward, only to discover he had fallen asleep in the chair, mouth hanging open, drool dripping from his lips.
I restrained a giggle and slipped into the courtroom.
To my surprise, the courtroom did not have the same glamor as the rest of the Citadel. A circular room with no windows lined with benches that overlooked the stage where Governor Pierce sat at a podium. The governor glowered down from her spot, her heavy eyes and graying hair reminiscent of a storm cloud on the edge of the sea. I never feared her until that day, though. Tristan and I had run into her multiple times while out playing, and each time she bid us a good day with a smile and a bow.
In the courtroom that day, she did not seem so kind. In her black robe and bejeweled headpiece, she looked like a goddess. Her voice boomed as she spoke, her eyes focused on the chair beneath her podium.
Before her sat Tristan, looking tiny and skinny beneath the governor's stare. He'd gotten paler, the freckles on his skin visible even in the glow of the candles. His red hair, usually brighter than my orange locks, had been shaved down to a simple buzz.
My mother sat a few paces away, her arms crossed, eyes downcast.
“Show us again.” Governor Pierce boomed.
Tristan fidgeted in his chair. I wanted to run over, take his hand, and stand with him in the trial. Instead, I stayed hidden in the benches, peaking around from the corners, hoping no one caught sight of me.
“Show us,” the governor repeated.
Tristan held out his hands. Charred burns coated his skin, working their way up his arms. The moment he opened his fingers, a few embers of fire sat on his skin like phoenix birds in the stories our father used to tell.
I gasped.
No one heard.
The governor continued to instruct Tristan to show his powers. He couldn’t do much than cast flames on his fingers, but it was enough to transfix everyone in the courtroom.
Even my mother watched in veneration.
The magic ceased with the governor’s gavel. All fell silent except for the sizzling of Tristan’s fire.
With a booming, resonant voice, the governor spoke. “I have made my decision. Mrs. Davies, please rise.”
My mother rose, her eyes still downcast as she responded, “I am here.”
“Tristan Davies?” The governor turned to my brother.
He rose, “Ay.”
“As the judge, the jury, and the governor of Janis, I hereby find you guilty of arson.”
I covered my mouth with both my hands to stop a cry.
Tristan bowed his head.
“That being said,” the governor continued, “your magic is reminiscent of your father. So I will not give you the maximum sentence. Rather, I offer you a chance of freedom: a measly eight hundred doubloons, and you will walk free.”
“Eight hundred!?!” my mother shouted.
“For damages, of course.” The governor flipped through the pages before her. “He destroyed half a home with his irresponsibility. But if you cannot pay, then Tristan will pay with time. It is all up to you, Mrs. Davies.”
My mother opened her mouth, then closed it again as if trying to find the words. She didn’t look upset, just shocked, more or less.
Finally, when she spoke, it came as a croaking whisper. “How long do I have to pay?”
“One week,” the governor replied.
“A week!?! That’s not possible—I only have a hundred doubloons to my name!”
“It is the rule of law.”
My mother continued to stare at the governor. Silence followed.
Then came the answer.
“I cannot pay.” She turned to Tristan. “I am sorry.”
Tristan stared at my mother, mouth ajar.
My stomach churned, and in an instant, I jumped up from my hiding spot and raced down the aisle. “Mama! You can’t leave Tristan here!”
“Leena!” my mother shrieked. “I told you to stay home!”
“What is that child doing here?” The governor barked.
“Why’re you going to leave Tristan in jail, Mama?!? You can’t leave him. He’s my brother. You can’t! You can’t!” Tears welled in my eye, and I started choking on my sobs. I hated the way it felt, like something trying to climb out of my throat.
“Leena, go home! Now!” My mother clenched her fists. “We’ll talk about this later!”
“But Mama!”
“Now Leena!”
One of the statuesque soldiers came to life along the wall and approached me, placing his hand on my shoulder. I shoved the hand away and looked at Tristan. I’d never seen him so quiet. He looked paler than a cloud in the sky.
“I don’t wanna lose my brother…” I whispered.
“Go home, Leena,” my mother ordered one last time.
I didn’t have a choice. The soldier took my arm.
And despite my cries and struggles, he led me from the courtroom and tossed me back onto the black sands of the beach.
CHAPTER TWO
An Offer from the Obsidian Ship
My mother slammed the door as she entered our shack, disappearing into the back room without a word. With a stale piece of bread and a now empty canteen of water, I slumped outside to watch the ships sailing along the shoreline. The obsidian ship still sat in the harbor, its sails glistening against the moonlight sky. It haunted the port like a ghost out at sea.
I kept my gaze locked on that ship until I fell asleep in the sand.
The thrashing of the waves woke me the next morning. My mother didn’t come to find me. I blinked a few times, then adjusted the eyepatch on the right side of my face. Sand fell into my mouth. I coughed once, then with a crick in my neck and an ache in my step, I returned to our shack, dragging sand across the floor.
My mother waited for me in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a glower on her lips.
“About time.”
“Sorry…”
“Just sit.”
I obeyed.
My mother began, “I need you to understand. I love you and your brother immensely.”
“Then why don’t you give the governor what she wants?” I asked.
“We do not have the money.”
“You have your pearls! And other things! We can sell the house!”
“Enough,” my mother snapped. “We cannot give up our lives for your brother.”
“But he’ll be in jail!”
“He’ll be fed. I’m sure the governor will put him into the army—”
“Tristan doesn’t want to be in the army!”
“This is more complicated than you understand, Leena.”
“I understand plenty!” I slammed my fists on the table, not caring about the pain shooting through my palms.
“That’s enough, Leena!” my mother bellowed.
I shook my head. Tears pricked my eye.
My mother shook her head, not meeting my eye. “I’m going out. Do not follow me. Is that understood?”
I muttered.
“Leena!”
“Yes, Mother.” I stared at my hands, not daring to move as my mother stormed from the house.
