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I have finished a final clean up and took advantage of the removal of the word limit to clear up some tricky areas. That's right. A scandalous 1010 words now make my story. While I got to most of the suggested changes, it was also suggested to switch my story from present tense to past to make it more comparable to other epic adventure/fantasy novels. But this was a holiday week and I didn't have time to rewrite my entire story. I did try rewriting the first few lines, but so much of my story relies on the immediacy of the tone. I really wanted my readers to feel along with Margot as she goes through this story. If it was a whole novel, I would rather write in past tense, but having such a short story was a fun chance to try to present tense and built in with the suspense. I may try rewriting it again this weekend in past tense, but for the sake of timeliness and the fun of the present, I present the definitely final, not something that I will constantly think about editing more, version of La Capitaine.
La Capitaine
Margot levels her pistol at the man at her desk, the sound of it cocking stops his search.
"Bonsoir, mon petit lapin," she says. A little rabbit. She chuckles at the lie. He is a shark, circling for blood.
"Margot," he coos, drawing out her name. "Where is the map?"
"That's Capitaine Margot, Guy." The French of her homeland molds his flat English name into something almost forgotten. He once told her the only reason he learned French was to ask her to say it again.
Even now, she sees the question forming in the curve of his lips, in that sparkle in his eye, but as he opens his mouth there is a thundering outside and the floor jerks beneath them, throwing them to the wall. Cannons. His ship is faster than she anticipated.
The second volley blasts through the wall and sends Guy sprawling towards the precipice, his eyes wide and blue as the sea. Margot grabs his outstretched hand, but his weight and momentum are too much. He pulls her with him. They plunge into the water.
Below is cold and silence. She kicks to the surface, gasping air into her lungs. Above is all sound, heat, and waves. A fire erupts below deck on her ship. Rowboats lower as her crew clamber into the too-small vessels. Deafening thunder echoes across the water, reverberating in the valley between the two ships, as a ball of metal slams into the rowboat. It shatters. The sound fills her ears with cotton. She barely hears her own scream, let alone the cries of her people as they plummet.
Hands drag her from the water. Margot registers nothing until she climbs onto the deck and meets the cold eyes of Captain Guy Roberts. Over his shoulder, the last of her ship sinks out of sight.
"If I can't have the map," says Guy, "Then you will take me to the talisman."
Margot stares into the empty waters. Minutes ago, she shared a meal with her crew. Now they are gone.
"Margot!" Guy cries, as she continues to stare past him.
He'd betrayed her for the last time. Her fists tighten, aching for a sword lost to the sea. Her gaze skewers him as she crosses the deck. Black tendrils escape her braid, whipping across her face, but she doesn't break eye contact. A smile carves across Guy's face as she nears and his gaze darts to her lips.
In one smooth motion, she pulls the cutlass from his scabbard and presses it to his neck. His smile slips ever-so-slightly and he swallows. A trickle of blood travels down his neck from her unyielding sword. "That's Capitaine Margot, Guy."
"There's no point dueling now." His voice is smooth despite the steel scraping his throat. "Your ship is beneath the sea. You're surrounded." His eyes soften. "Join me, Margot," he pleads. "Who knows what power the talisman holds."
The cries of her crew still echoes in her ears. She snarls and pushes him from her.
"Find a sword, Guy."
A shipmate hands him a blade, but Guy ignores it as he looks urgingly into Margot's eyes.
"You want the talisman?" she taunts, pulling a chain from around her neck. The long cylinder dangles from the end, waving back and forth. His softness vanishes as his eyes follow the charm.
"Very well," he replies, taking the blade.
Margot has dueled Guy many times. This will be the last.
Metal clangs. His form has improved, and he disarms her near the starboard side, her blade sliding across the deck. Guy grabs her by the braid, pulling her head back as he lifts his sword.
"It didn't have to be like this," he whispers.
Margot ducks and the sword slices her braid. Pulling a knife from her boot, she pierces his side and rolls out of reach. But her sword has disappeared from where she last saw it, and Guy's crew is closing in, corralling her against the rail. She is trapped and out of options. Behind her, the water calls her name. She could join her crew at the bottom or...
Her gaze lands on the rigging nearby. She is not yet finished. While Guy's crew binds his wound, she returns her knife and climbs, a plan forming as she ascends.
"You have nowhere to go," Guy calls. "The talisman is mine."
Despite her shorn hair pelting her face, she reaches the crow's nest and retrieves the talisman. Raising it high, she wills its magic to channel through her. Below, the water boils.
When the first mast bursts forth, the crew turns to the commotion. As though it always sailed from the deep, Margot's ship returns to the surface, water pouring down its sides.
"A ghost ship," they say, their eyes transfixed. Margot can't look away. The talisman channeled her regret, her sorrow. It found her heart's desire.
Water trickles from every crack as her ship lines itself with Guy's. The first cannon breaks their trance. Through the blasts and the violent shaking of the ship, Margot almost misses the sensation of a hand around her ankle.
Throwing her coat-tail to the side, she kicks Guy with all her might. His grip loosens but doesn't detach, and he turns back to her, blood running from his nose, raised lip baring his teeth.
Frustrated, Margot retrieves her blade and holds it just above his eye. "Lib?rez-moi,."
"You wouldn't, Margot."
"That's Capitaine Margot." She jabs, leaving a streak from brow to cheek.
Guy grabs his face with a scream, and Margot slides down to the sail, cutting loose a rope. He might lose the eye, but he would live.
"Au revoir, Guy," she calls.
Hate seers her from his one good eye, the other covered by his hand. Taking the rope, she swings across the chasm.
"Allons-y, mes comarades," she calls as her boots hit the deck.
Capitaine Margot Toulouse glances back at the smoldering remains of Guy's ship. That won't be enough to end him, but she has greater treasure waiting beyond the horizon.
Topic: La Capitaine: Final Draft (Read 2956 times)