"Pirate´s Life for Me" by Katherine E. Hillis

Waves danced and lapped up against the bow of the ship, their foamy white hands running over the newly replaced boards. The Mediterranean sun turned the droplets of salt water that splashed up into diamonds and warmed the tan skin of the crew, which was not quite as welcome an effect to some of the harder-working men. Inside the captain’s cabin were two people, one sitting at the desk, plotting the Nightshade’s course, the other pacing the floor in front of the first, a ledger and pen in hand, scribbling calculations.

“Captain, I think that last repair was a sound investment,” the man pacing the floor said, running a hand through his long blonde hair. “With the gold we got off the last ship, we have more than enough to pay the crew and restock provisions, and we can’t very well have the ship sinking.”

“Aye, Arthur, but still... I thought I’d be rich enough to retire by now.” The captain was a dashing man in his mid-thirties whose nautical career started in the Royal Navy. Several years ago, however, his ship had been attacked by pirates, and he was taken prisoner for ransom. While on board the pirate ship, he had talked to the captain about the nature of piracy, and by the end of a week he’d decided he’d very much like to hang the Navy and invest his money in pirating, as there were a good deal fewer rules to abide by and a lot more women to be had. He’d payed his ransom to the pirates, then immediately set out to procure his own ship and crew. Things had gone well, but not as marvelously as he’d hoped.

“Come, come, you’re still young, sir! And I have a good feeling about this next endeavor!” Arthur turned and looked out the round window, then exclaimed, “Good lord!”

The captain jumped up, and all his fancy measurement tools went flying, ink spilling over part of his map (Ireland and a bit of Wales were blotted out, but because he was an Englishman he was under no obligation to care.) “What is it?!”

Arthur turned around swiftly, hiding the window behind his back. “N-nothing, Captain Charles, nothing at all!”

Charles looked at him scrutinizingly. “Are you sure? You just shouted ‘good lord!’ at the top of your lungs.”

“That wasn’t the top of my lungs, sir. But, ah, perhaps you should get down.”

“What?”

“I said perhaps you should–“

Arthur’s words were cut off by the fact that a large cannon-ball had ripped through the wall of the cabin, taking his left arm off at the shoulder. “Oh, bloody hell!” he said, rather peevishly. “This shirt cost me a fortune and a half!” Arthur looked down at his arm–which was lying on the floor and quickly becoming covered in his blood–emitted an effeminate giggle, and fell over.

More than a little surprised at this, Charles stood staring at his bleeding first mate for a moment, then rushed out onto the deck, drawing his sword and waving it menacingly at the Naval ship that was responsible for the large hole in his cabin and the missing arm of his crew-member. “How–how dare you do that, you scoundrels!” he shouted, “That was the best first mate I ever had, and you just offed him with a bloody cannon round! Come over here and fight me like men!”

“No, I don’t think we shall,” replied one of the crew from the other ship, “We’re probably going to shoot at you for a bit from over here, then when you’re all dead we’ll hop over and take your wallets!”

Charles’ face fell into a frown. “You see!” he exclaimed to one pirate who was loading a cannon. “That’s exactly the sort of thing that made me leave the Navy! That’s just plain mean of them!”

“Arrr, captain, so it be,” the other replied, beginning to wish he’d been a doctor like his mother had wanted.

“It’s really a shame about Arthur,” said the captain mournfully. “He was so good at math, and now I’ll have no one to help me calculate the cost of all the repairs we’ll need after this.” Charles began to walk back to his cabin. “I’m going to go get my pistol and shoot at those mean people over there!”

“Arrr, good luck with tha’ cap’n.”

The captain walked huffily back inside, and was extremely startled to see Arthur standing, wiping blood off his still-attached left arm. “A-Arthur? Are you a ghost?!” Charles stepped back, afraid the specter would posses him and make him do something embarrassing, like dance around or act like a chicken.

“No, of course not!” Arthur dusted off the remnants of his coat indignantly.

“Prove it!”

“What do you mean, how should I know how to prove I’m not a ghost?”

Charles was silent for a while, thinking. “Well... I guess if you were a ghost you’d know how to prove you weren’t one...”

“Exactly!” Arthur pulled his sword out of its scabbard. “Now, let’s go kill some pansy Navy sailors!”

“Wait, I still don’t understand how you’re not dead.” By the sounds issuing from the deck, it seemed the British Navy had indeed boarded the Nightshade, despite what the crewman had said.

“Uh, the cannon only scratched my arm?” Arthur shuffled his feet.

“No it didn’t, your arm fell off. I saw it!”

“It very well did no such thing, sir!”

“Yes it did, I was there when it happened!”

“Well it’s not fallen off now, is it?”

“...No... it seems intact...”

“Then how could it have fallen off?” Arthur began to walk to the door. “Come now, Captain, this is no time for pointless debating. We’re being attacked by the Navy.”

“Alright, but after this is finished I’m going to ask you more about this arm business!” Charles retrieved his pistol, then rushed out onto the deck, Arthur at his side.

The latter was a far better fighter, and it was for this reason that he’d been allowed to join the Nightshade’s crew. As far as appearances went, Arthur Penn didn’t seem the pirating type at all; he looked more like a philosopher. When he’d approached Charles asking for a position on board, he and his crew had laughed. About thirty seconds later several men were missing limbs and eyes, and the captain decided to reconsider. Within a month he was made first mate.

At the present Arthur was laughing wildly, skewering sailors on his sword, covered in blood spatters. The blonde got a little scary at times–especially when he licked blood off his fingers as if he enjoyed the taste–but so did everyone when the bloodlust of killing descended.

As Charles put a nice little hole through the head of a Navy sailor with a bullet, he mused on what had happened to Arthur. Had he imagined it? No–there was a pool of blood on the floor of his cabin, and half the wall was destroyed, by the looks of it. But the fact remained that Arthur’s arm was still intact....

Soon Charles grew tired of fighting and began to meander back to his half-obliterated cabin. His face wore the puzzled expression of a man trying to figure out just how the magician managed to pull the rabbit from his hat when he had just shown the inside of it to the audience. No one seemed to notice his surreptitious escape from the foray, and Charles slipped into his cabin, intending to further investigate what had happened to his first mate.

There was blood all over the floor near where the wall had been, and it was quietly drying in the afternoon sun. A seagull looked up at Charles from his desk, and the man stared at the creature’s little seagull-eyes, then noticed that his little seagull-feet were covered in ink. The map that lay on the desk was now marked with the bird’s tracks, and the vindictive pleasure that came with seeing Spain and France blotted out was ruined by the sight of his own lovely England’s being obscured as well. He shooed the beast away, then glumly sat down in his chair, pondering.

“How am I going to be able to pay for all this damage?” he thought aloud, drawing a stick-figure pirate in ink on his desk. “Maybe we can loot the Navy’s ship... Oh, but all they ever have are limes, crates and crates of useless limes.” He gave the ink-pirate an ink-parrot to keep him company. “I should’ve stayed in the Navy...”

“Yes, Charles, you really should have.” The captain looked up to see a familiar and hated face–the commodore he’d served under in the Navy. They had known each other since their school days, and Charles had never really liked him; he was the annoying one in class you only put up with because you’ll get in trouble otherwise.

“Edward!” the captain said through clinched teeth. “I should’ve known it was you attacking my ship! But what’s the Royal Navy doing all the way out here in the Mediterranean?”

“Following you, obviously,” replied Edward, rolling his eyes. “You looted a ship full of gold that was meant for the Crown! Did you expect to get away with no trouble? Hah, you were always the stupid one in class.”

Charles rose from his chair angrily. “Hey, now, that was completely unnecessary! I-I was just bad at math, is all!”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure that’s all it was,” Edward said lazily, pointing his pistol in the general direction of the other. “Now, you’re being arrested, so hurry up; we haven’t got all day.”

“Arrested? For what?”

A moment passed and Edward just looked at Charles, as if he couldn’t fathom him in the least. “For being a bloody pirate! Obviously!”

“Oh, yes, that’s right. Am I to be hanged?” Charles frowned.

“Yes, along with all your worthless crew.”

“Even the parrot?”

“You haven’t got a parrot!”

“Oh.... no I suppose I don’t. Alright then, I’ll come quietly.” Charles stepped out from behind his desk and walked slowly to the door, his boots clacking on the wooden deck. It seemed the loneliest sound he’d ever heard, even lonelier than the time they’d been stuck in the Doldrums and a seagull had flown around the ship, cried out once, and fallen into the ocean, dead. “What’s going to become of the Nightshade?” he asked, worried that the floating investment of nearly all his inheritance would be left to rot.

“Nightshade? Is that what you call his ship? What a stupid idea, naming it after a bunch of plants!” Edward laughed harshly. “The ship’s going to be taken into the service of the Royal Navy, but that doesn’t concern you. You’ll be dead soon.”

They walked out on deck, and Charles was dismayed to see his crew being shackled and led onto the other ship. Arthur was still being held at sword-tip, and the captain saw with consternation that it happened to be his first mate’s own weapon they were using against him. Charles thought it very rude of the Navy to do that.

“Sorry, captain,” said Arthur, a nervous grin on his face, “we can’t win all the time, I suppose.”



The journey aboard the Navy’s ship was an exceedingly dreary one. The Nightshades crew was chained up in the brig, uncomfortably squashed together because of the limited space. Arthur Penn happened to have a deck of playing cards, so the pirates passed the long hours playing games and showing off various magic tricks. No one would really bring up the fact that they were all to be hanged soon; if someone tried he was immediately shushed and the subject was changed.

At last the ship sailed into a harbor, and the pirates were herded into a small prison. The town they were in wasn’t large, and there weren’t enough cells for the whole crew. The Navy sailors spent several hours trying to figure out a plausible solution, which entailed much counting of fingers and toes and even more arguing. Eventually, Edward walked in, noticed that the prisoners were still waiting to be jailed, threw a small hissy-fit, and ordered that the pirates were to be imprisoned two-to-a-cell.

“Bunch of bloody fools,” Edward muttered, shaking his head and walking away.

If he had chosen to oversee the actual jailing of the pirates, he would’ve immediately objected to the captain and the first mate being together. Unfortunately for England, the peons didn’t think the two smartest men from the crew would be able to do any harm or plot any escape schemes–any successful ones, that is.

By the time Arthur and Charles were chained to opposite sides of the cell, night had fallen, and a cliche full moon shone into the cell through a small window, giving an eerie gleam to the first mate’s eyes.

“Well... this is a rather anticlimactic end to my pirating career,” lamented Charles. “I’d always wanted to either die old and rich or in some battle... Being hanged–being made an example–is not so good.”

Arthur shrugged. “There’s still a slim chance you can die old and rich, captain.”

“No. It’s over now.” Charles leaned back, resting his head on the grimy stone wall. “I should’ve been a dentist.”

“Well you do have very nice teeth, sir–”

“Thanks, I really try.”

“–but you’re a wonderful pirate captain! This isn’t the end for the Nightshade and her crew! Trust me, we’ll find a way to escape!”

Charles shook his head. “Let it go, Arthur... We’re all as good as dead. There’s no hope.”

For a long moment Arthur looked down at the floor. “If...” he began, glancing up at the other, “If I told you a secret that could get us all out of this mess, would you promise not to overreact?”

“O-of course not! You can keep all of us from being hanged? Tell on, Arthur!” Charles began to wonder if his first mate was really a prince of some kind who could pay their way out of jail.

He laughed nervously. “Actually, my name isn’t Arthur... It’s Autumn.”

“Autumn? Well that’s a silly name for a boy! Were your parents drunk when you were christened?”

“No–I’m not a boy; I’m a woman.”

“Now, now, just because you have a girl’s name doesn’t make you any less of a man–”

”Captain, I wasn’t being metaphorical. I am actually a woman. I disguised myself so I could get a free trip to the Orient. I had plans to ditch you all if we got as far as Greece, then continue on foot from there, but... you were all so nice and pirating is such great fun!”

Charles just looked at him–her–quite unable to comprehend his first mate’s words. “B-but that’s impossible! You’re the best fighter out of the whole crew! You can’t be a lady!”

“Come on, captain, have you never thought it odd that I don’t have a beard and I never shave?”

“Now that you mention it... So you really are a woman?”

“Yes!” Autumn shouted, rolling her eyes.

“That explains the lavender soap.” Charles suddenly looked up at Autumn. “But how does that help us escape?”

“Ah, well, that brings me to the other half of my secret. Do you remember when my arm got cut off by a cannon-ball?”

“So you admit it! I knew I wasn’t crazy–!”

“Well, I didn’t die from the wound because... well...” she muttered something inaudible.

“What was that?”

“I-I’m a vampire, sir.” She smiled apologetically.

The pirate captain burst into peals of laughter. “You–haha–expect me to believe you’re some fairytale monster? Miss Autumn, please, tell the truth.”

“Bloody idiot... That is the truth! How else could I still have an arm after being hit with a cannon-round?!” Autumn held up her shackled hands, then easily broke the chain between the two cuffs.

“Ah, well I suppose you’re stronger than the average girl.” said Charles, avoiding eye-contact.

“I’m stronger than most human-beings. Come on, captain! Is it that hard to believe? Look–” She held up her hand, slipping off the glove. “I’m going to rip off my thumb, and you’ll see for yourself when it grows back.”

Charles made as if to get up, forgetting his fetters. “No, Miss Autumn, don’t go defacing your hand! Please!”

“Stop shouting or the guards will hear.” The vampire–for she indeed was one–daintily removed her other glove, folding the pair neatly and setting them off to the side, lest any blood spill on them. She placed one hand on the thumb of the other, and with a small jerk she easily removed the bone from its joint.

As he watched this, and as he saw the flesh and tendons separate from the larger part of her delicate hand, Charles felt he would faint. When the blood began to gush out he shrieked, and continued to do this even after Autumn had tossed her thumb into the corner of the room. As her hand began to heal, a new finger growing in the place of the other, he screamed all the louder. It was only when the long, slightly curved nail of her thumb had grown back to its previous length that he stopped carrying on like an idiot.

The respite from stupidity was, regrettably, short-lived.

“D-demon!” Charles shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Daughter of Lilith!”

“My mother’s name is Cornelia, thank-you-very-much, and I’m not a demon, captain!”

“Get away! You can’t have my soul!”

“I don’t want it! Captain Charles, have I not been a perfectly wonderful first mate all this time? If I were going to take your soul or your life, wouldn’t I have done it by now?” Autumn stood and walked over to her captain. “Now, we need to get out of here–”

Charles tried to back away from her, but he was already against the wall. “Get away, demon!”

“Sir, you promisedyou wouldn’t overreact!”

“Well I obviously lied!”

Autumn sighed, sitting down in front of him. “Charles, just because I have to drink a little blood now and then to stay alive doesn’t mean I’m a demon. I can’t help what I am–I was born a vampire, so were my parents, and their parents, and so on.”

“Demon,” he said in a very small, frightened voice.

“No, vampire. There is a difference.”

“So... you’re not going to eat my immortal soul?” Charles seemed to brighten. “Then let’s get out of this bloody prison!” In his haste to stand he forgot that he was chained to the wall and toppled over.

Autumn rubbed her eyes. “Of course, Captain, of course...”



A few minutes later, Autumn and Charles could be found sneaking about the prison, stealthily freeing their fellow pirates. Several times the captain had to order his crew to be quiet, for when each door was opened it seemed all of them burst into cheers and laughter.

Pirates, unfortunately, are not the brightest of men.

At last all the men had been freed (and some of them had nothing whatsoever to do with the pirates, Charles simply got the wrong cells and hadn’t the heart to lock the criminals back up.) Since the only guard at the prison was sound asleep, the large group walked easily out into the night air. From the entrance they could see the docks and one ship that was lit up with lanterns, swarming with people. The sounds of slightly inebriated laughter drifted to them through the still air. Apparently, the Royal Navy was having a small party to celebrate its evanescent victory.

“Why don’t we ever have parties like tha’, cap’in?” asked one of the crew, somewhat enviously.

“Because...” Charles began, but he could think of no real reason why they shouldn’t do the same. “Ah, because pirates don’t waste time! We loot one ship then move right on to the next!”

None of the crew seemed convinced, but Autumn said hurriedly, “Well, look at them all! Because they’re partying like fools we’re going to get away with our ship!”

This statement seemed to rouse the men into moving, and they ambled along in good humor, down to the dock where the Nightshade was waiting.

Half an hour later the pirates were about to set sail, and Charles walked around, making sure everyone had everything under control.

Arthur–for she now  had to assume that role again–sat on the deck’s railing, all her attention bent on the rope before her. In the brig of the Navy ship, she and another pirate had gotten into an argument about who could tie the fanciest and most complicated knot, so she was brushing up her skills before the competition that was scheduled for the next morning.

All of a sudden Arthur felt there was something missing, as if some crucial element of her existence had slipped away unnoticed until now. Her hand moved instinctively to her side, where the hilt of her sword should have been. “C-Captain Charles!” There was a tightening in her chest; her sword held a great deal of sentimental value to her, not to mention the hilt was studded with jewels.

“Yes?” the captain asked, making his way to where she stood.

“I–I’m going to get my sword back; don’t leave without me!” Before Charles could fully process what she’d said, the vampire was gone, running down the docks toward the Navy’s ship. Eventually the captain came to himself and followed her, his chivalrous nature not wanting her to step into danger without the aid of a man.

He caught up with her near the lighted vessel. Autumn was hiding behind some crates, peering out at the lone man who stood to one side of the ramp leading to the ship, pistol in hand.

“It’s the commodore,” she whispered as Charles joined her, “and he has my sword, the filthy wretch! My father gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday, and I’ve been using it ever since...” Autumn looked distraught, hating to imagine someone else’s hands on her weapon.

“You had an unusual childhood.” He frowned enviously. “For my sixteenth birthday I got a stationery set...”

Autumn looked down at her feet, shuffling them awkwardly. “Well stationery isn’t that bad... Anyway, we need to get my sword back and leave as soon as possible!”

“Right!... Edward seems to be the only one around who isn’t drunk, so we can just knock him out and take it back in a jiffy!”

“You know, Charles, people wont take you seriously if you keep using silly words like that.” Autumn stepped around the crate, planning to confront the commodore and demand her possession back.

“What are you doing?!” asked the captain, a bit too loudly. Edward looked up at them, his hand tightening around his pistol.

“Who’s there?” the naval officer asked, walking slowly to the boxes the pirates were hiding behind.

Charles stepped boldly into view. “It is I, your arch nemesis!”

“Henry?”

“No! It’s Charles!”

Edward snorted. “You’re not my arch nemesis–wait, shouldn’t you be in prison?”

“Yes, well it’s kind of a funny story–”

”Oh, just shut up!” Edward shouted suddenly, raising the gun to point it at him. “I’ve always hated that stupid voice of yours and how you ramble on about nonsense!”

“I–I don’t have a stupid voi–” The remainder of Charles’ rebuttal was drowned out by the crack of the pistol’s firing.

When the smoke cleared, Edward was startled to see the captain’s first mate lying on the dock instead of Charles himself. “What the devil? Where’d he come from?”

“H-how dare you?!” shouted the other, looking down and seeing for the second time his first mate–the best one he’d ever had–lying in a pool of blood. Charles felt pangs of guilt and gratitude in his heart. She had stepped out in front of him–but could she survive being shot? “You can’t shoot a lady!”

“Lady? What–” Edward looked at Autumn, who lay motionless and pale. “You mean that’s a woman?... Well there did seem to be something off about him.”

“It was the lavender.”

“Yes, yes that’s it. Hah! You mean to tell me your second-in-command was a girl?! That’s so like you: weak.” Edward smirked meanly.

“Don’t make fun! She was my best fighter, and she was great at math!”

The commodore was nearly doubled over in laughter. “Aha–she was–haha–your best fighter? How pathetic!”

“That’s odd coming from you, Limey,” said Autumn, sitting up and fishing out the bullet that was lodged in her skull. “You can’t even keep your prisoners in chains! You’re a disgrace.” She tossed the ball of lead off to the side and stood. “You’re lucky I’m loyal enough to take a bullet for you, Captain Charles. You have no idea how much getting shot stings.”

Edward backed away, amazed and terrified. “D-demon!”

“Yes, yes, I’m a scary demon.” She rolled her eyes, tired of arguing against the usual assumption about her nature. “Just give me my sword back. It’s, uh, it’s cursed and if you use it... um... if you use it you’ll grow horns and a tail or something.” Autumn smiled hopefully at him. Unlike most of her grins, this one was genuine and nature, showing the two long fangs in her mouth.

The commodore saw this and was so frightened he stumbled back, losing his balance and falling. His pistol slipped from his grasp and clattered away. The man hardly seemed to notice; his eyes were locked on Autumn, and he was shaking. Edward kept muttering about demons and soul-eaters and other nonsense.

The vampire saw the golden opportunity to mess with his mind, and she stepped forward, giving her voice a creepy edge as she spoke. “Foolish mortal, you dare to take a demon’s sword?” Charles could barely contain his laughter, so he turned away, giggling.

Edward, being of somewhat weak constitution, was so excited by the thought of an actual demon actuallystanding over him he became faint, slumping to the ground, unconscious.

Autumn walked over to him and stooped to retrieve her sword and steal his wallet, then kicked him in the kidney once for good measure. “Success!” she proclaimed, turning to walk back to theNightshade, leaving the unconscious commodore to the elements. Charles followed suit. “What a profitable endeavor, captain! But I think we missed the ship that was sailing from Turkey with all that loot. Oh well, another will come soon enough!”

Charles was silent for a moment. “Were you going to abandon us in Turkey?” he asked glumly.

“Well, yes, I mean that was the plan, but... Well I guess I could stay on for a while longer. What’s a few decades to a vampire, anyway?”

“How old are you, Miss Autumn?” he asked with the innocent wonder of a small child.

She laughed for a moment, then abruptly brought the blade of her sword to his throat. “Old,” she replied.

“Ah,” he stammered, chuckling nervously as she lowered the sword. They walked back to the ship in silence, but Charles’ mind was teeming with curiosity about her origin. He would bide his time until the opportune moment to ask about who she was and where she’d come from. He had decades, surely that was enough time to learn all about the woman, right?



A week after the disaster with the pirates, Edward sat at his desk, reading a mean letter from his superior. The message was dotted with cursing and referred to the addressee with all sorts of nasty names that Edward really didn’t care for. Halfway through he stopped reading and hurled the missive into the hearth. For a long while he sat thinking, watching the letter burn up in the fire. His career in the Royal Navy was more or less over.

“Piracy, eh?” he murmured, a smile spreading over his face. “I bet the ladies love pirates.”