The Queen of the Red Sails

The first thing Catarina de Almeida noticed about the woman who had just taken her father’s ship was not the blood on her sword, nor the black hair torn loose from its knot by the wind, nor even the crew of armed women spreading across the deck behind her with the frightening efficiency of people who had performed this particular dance many times before. It was her eyes. They were dark, almost black beneath the storm clouds, and they regarded Catarina not as a prisoner, not as a merchant captain’s daughter worth ransoming, and certainly not as a frightened European woman who ought to be grateful simply to remain alive, but as a problem that had arrived unexpectedly and might, under different circumstances, become interesting. Catarina stared back. Neither woman moved. Around them, sailors groaned, ropes snapped against the mast, rainwater mixed with blood across the deck, and somewhere beneath their feet men were shouting in Portuguese that the powder room had been taken. The pirate captain lowered her curved blade by perhaps an inch. “You are not afraid,” she said in accented but perfectly understandable Portuguese. Catarina raised her chin. “I am terrified.” The woman’s mouth moved, almost a smile. “You hide it well.” “So do you.” That earned Catarina the full smile, although it lasted only a heartbeat. “My name is Lin Xiu.” “I know who you are.” That made several of the women behind Lin Xiu laugh. The pirate queen looked over her shoulder. “Apparently I have become famous.” “You have become expensive,” Catarina replied. “My father has seen the notices. Lisbon merchants would pay enough silver for your head to buy three ships.” Lin Xiu looked back at her. “And yet my head remains attached.” “For the moment.” The pirate queen’s eyebrow rose. One of her officers, a short, broad-shouldered woman with a red scarf around her hair, muttered something in Cantonese. Lin Xiu replied sharply, then looked again at Catarina. “My first officer thinks I should tie you up.” “Your first officer has sensible instincts.” “She also thinks you are insolent.” “She has excellent instincts.” That time Lin Xiu laughed. It was not the laugh Catarina expected from a woman whose name terrified captains from Macau to Manila; it was low and warm and surprisingly young, and Catarina hated that she liked the sound of it immediately. Then she hated something else even more. She liked Lin Xiu’s face. She liked the scar near her left temple, the rain running along her cheek, the utter lack of apology in the way she stood there, and the fact that despite the weapons surrounding them Lin Xiu did not need to shout to control the deck. Catarina had met powerful men all her life. They announced themselves. This woman simply was. Lin Xiu seemed to be studying her with equal discomfort. “You are Captain Almeida’s daughter.” “Yes.” “He tried to shoot me.” “You were stealing his ship.” “I was borrowing his cargo.” “You sank the escort.” “They fired first.” “They were escorting us.” “They were inconvenient.” Catarina folded her arms. “You have an answer for everything.” “I am captain. It is part of the position.” “And what happens to me?” Lin Xiu’s expression changed. For the first time, the humor disappeared. “That,” she said, “depends entirely upon whether you are as dangerous as you look.” Catarina should have looked away. She did not. “Perhaps,” she said quietly, “you should find out.” I. The Prisoner Who Would Not Behave Lin Xiu did not put Catarina in chains. This irritated both of them. It irritated Catarina because she suspected it meant the pirate captain thought she was harmless, and it irritated Lin Xiu because every time she considered ordering restraints, she found herself remembering the way Catarina had stood on the captured deck with a sword less than three paces from her throat and still managed to insult her. Instead, Catarina was escorted aboard Lin Xiu’s junk, the Red Phoenix , while her father and the surviving Portuguese crew were confined below until arrangements could be made for their release. The Red Phoenix was unlike any ship Catarina had known. Its broad deck seemed almost alive beneath her feet, crowded with women hauling lines, repairing torn sailcloth, carrying powder, tending wounds and shouting orders across a ship whose immense battened sails rose into the storm like dark red wings. No one stared at Catarina because she was a woman. They stared because she was Portuguese. That difference unsettled her more than she cared to admit. By evening Lin Xiu summoned her to the captain’s quarters. Catarina entered without knocking. Lin Xiu looked up from a chart. “You were instructed to knock.” “I was instructed to come here.” “Both instructions can exist simultaneously.” “I prefer efficiency.” Lin Xiu leaned back against the table. “You have been aboard my ship six hours and already you are exhausting.” “You kidnapped me.” “I rescued you from a ship whose mainmast was about to collapse.” “After your cannon broke it.” “That detail is unnecessarily negative.” Catarina walked to the chart table. “You speak Portuguese too well.” “And you accuse too quickly.” “Where did you learn it?” “Macau. Traders. Prisoners. A priest who cheated at cards.” “A priest?” “He taught me Portuguese. I taught him not to cheat.” “How?” “I threw him into the harbor.” Catarina stared. Lin Xiu smiled. “You believed me.” “For half a second.” “That is enough.” Catarina glanced down at the charts. Her father’s course was marked there. So were three Portuguese naval patrol routes. Her stomach tightened. “You knew where we would be.” Lin Xiu stopped smiling. “Yes.” “How?” “Someone sells information.” “Who?” “If I knew, I would not need you.” Catarina looked up sharply. “There it is.” “There what is?” “The reason I am not chained below with everyone else.” Lin Xiu placed both palms on the table. “You can read your father’s private signals.” “You assume that.” “I know it.” “You know very little about me.” “I know you argued with your father’s navigator yesterday morning about taking the eastern passage.” Catarina went still. Lin Xiu continued. “I know you have crossed from Goa to Macau four times, that you understand currents better than most captains I have fought, and that your father allows you near his charts even though he pretends otherwise whenever Portuguese officers are watching.” “Who told you?” “People talk.” “People spy.” “Yes.” “And you expect me to help you?” “No.” That answer surprised Catarina. Lin Xiu stepped around the table until only its corner separated them. “I expect you to refuse me.” “Good.” “I expect you to insult me.” “Better.” “I expect you to attempt to escape at least twice before morning.” Catarina almost smiled. “Only twice?” “And I expect that eventually you will realize the person betraying your father is also betraying me.” Catarina’s expression hardened. “What are you talking about?” “Three months ago Portuguese patrols found two of my supply anchorages within days of my using them. Last month someone gave me a route for a silver convoy that had been changed before we arrived. Today I was told your father carried military payroll.” “He does not.” “I know.” The cabin seemed smaller suddenly. Catarina looked down at the map again. “So someone wanted us to attack each other.” “Yes.” “Why?” “That is the question.” “And you think I know.” “I think you may notice what I have missed.” Catarina slowly placed one hand on the chart table. “You trust me with this?” Lin Xiu’s gaze dropped to her hand, then returned to her face. “No.” “Good.” “I would be disappointed if we began lying to each other so soon.” “Soon?” The word hung between them. Lin Xiu seemed to realize what she had said. Catarina did too. Neither moved. Catarina broke the silence first. “You are staring.” “So are you.” “I am evaluating you.” “I am enjoying the evaluation.” “That is arrogant.” “I am a pirate queen.” “Do people really call you that?” “Only people who want something.” “And what should I call you?” Lin Xiu’s voice softened. “Xiu.” Catarina felt the name somewhere lower than her ears. She hated that too. “Then you may call me Catarina.” “I already do.” “Not like that.” Lin Xiu’s smile returned. “No,” she said. “Not like that.” II. Blades Before Trust The attack came two days later. Not from the Portuguese. Not from the Qing patrols. From a second pirate fleet. Three fast vessels appeared through the morning haze, sails angled hard toward the Red Phoenix , and before Catarina could understand why every woman around her had suddenly begun moving, Lin Xiu was already shouting orders. “Port guns ready!” Catarina caught her arm. “They are trying to force you toward the shoals.” Lin Xiu turned. “What?” “The current. Look at the surface.” Another cannon fired. Wood exploded from the rail behind them. Catarina pointed. “They want you west. There is reef there.” Lin Xiu looked from the sea to Catarina. “You are certain?” “Yes.” “If you are wrong—” “Then you may throw me into the harbor with your priest.” Lin Xiu barked a command. The Red Phoenix turned east. The pursuing ship followed. And struck the hidden reef. The sound was enormous. Lin Xiu looked at Catarina. Catarina gave her a grim smile. “You are welcome.” “You are still exhausting.” Then grappling hooks struck the rail. Women surged across the deck. Catarina saw a blade coming toward Lin Xiu before Lin Xiu did. She drew the short sword she had stolen from an unattended rack that morning. Lin Xiu noticed. “You stole that.” “I borrowed it.” “You criticize me for that.” “Later.” The attacker lunged. Catarina blocked. Lin Xiu cut another woman’s weapon aside and pivoted back-to-back with Catarina. “You know how to fight.” “My father thought daughters should know how to survive.” “For once, I like your father.” “He would be devastated.” Another attacker charged. Catarina parried. Lin Xiu drove forward. For several breathless minutes there was no distrust between them because distrust required time, and time had disappeared beneath steel, rain, rope and shouted warnings. They simply moved. When Catarina stepped left, Lin Xiu covered her right. When Lin Xiu ducked, Catarina struck over her shoulder. When Catarina slipped on the wet deck, Lin Xiu caught her by the belt, hauled her upright and shouted, “Do not die!” Catarina, breathless, shouted back, “That sounded almost affectionate!” “Do not become unbearable!” “Too late!” When the last boarder retreated, Catarina leaned against the rail, breathing hard. Lin Xiu stood beside her, blood on her sleeve that did not appear to be hers. “You saved me,” Lin Xiu said. “You saved me twice.” “Then we are even.” “No.” Lin Xiu looked over. Catarina’s expression was suddenly serious. “We are not.” Something in the way she said it silenced them both. III. The Dangerous Part That night the sea became calm. The storm clouds moved east, leaving a bright moon broken across the water, and the Red Phoenix sailed slowly beneath repaired sails while the women on deck worked in the exhausted quiet that follows surviving something together. Catarina found Lin Xiu alone at the stern rail. “You disappeared.” “I am captain. I am allowed.” “Captains do not disappear.” “Pirate queens do.” Catarina came beside her. For a while they watched the sea. Then Catarina said, “My father believes women like you are monsters.” Lin Xiu’s face remained turned toward the horizon. “And you?” “I believed many things my father believed.” “That was not my question.” “No.” Lin Xiu finally looked at her. Catarina exhaled. “I do not think you are a monster.” “You barely know me.” “I know you released twelve men today who surrendered.” “They were useless to me.” “You gave them water.” “They were thirsty.” “You ordered your surgeon to treat one of them.” “She was annoyed by his screaming.” Catarina laughed. Lin Xiu looked pleased with herself. “You always do that,” Catarina said. “What?” “Pretend kindness is inconvenience.” “It protects my reputation.” “I think your reputation is in danger.” Lin Xiu moved closer. “From you?” “Perhaps.” They were very near one another now. Catarina could smell salt in Lin Xiu’s hair. “You still do not trust me,” Lin Xiu said. “No.” “Good.” “But I want to.” “That is worse.” “Yes.” Lin Xiu’s voice lowered. “Catarina.” The way she spoke the name stopped Catarina’s breath. “What?” “You should step away.” “Why?” “Because I have spent two days trying not to kiss you.” Catarina did not step away. Instead she smiled, slowly. “Only two?” Lin Xiu stared at her. “Since the moment you stood on your father’s deck looking at my sword as though it had personally offended you.” “I was looking at you.” “I know.” “And you were looking at me.” “I know that too.” Catarina took half a step closer. Their foreheads almost touched. “Then why are we still talking?” Catarina whispered. “Because you are the daughter of a captain whose ship I attacked.” “And you are a woman half the Portuguese navy wants hanged.” “That is precisely my point.” “No,” Catarina said. “That is precisely why talking seems inefficient.” Lin Xiu laughed softly. “You are impossible.” “So I have been told.” “And reckless.” “Frequently.” “And arrogant.” “Now you are simply flirting.” “I am trying very hard not to.” “Stop trying.” Lin Xiu lifted one hand toward Catarina’s face, then stopped before touching her. That hesitation was what undid Catarina. Not the pirate queen. Not the sword. Not the reputation. The hesitation. Catarina closed the distance herself. Their first kiss was not gentle. It was brief, startled, almost angry in its relief, the kind of kiss two stubborn women give after spending too much time pretending neither has been thinking about it. They separated. Catarina stared at her. Lin Xiu stared back. “Well,” Catarina said. “Yes.” “That was poorly considered.” “Extremely.” “We should not do it again.” “Absolutely not.” Catarina kissed her again. IV. The Captain’s Quarters They made it as far as Lin Xiu’s cabin before the second argument began. Catarina shut the door. Lin Xiu turned. “This changes nothing.” Catarina laughed. “That is possibly the stupidest thing you have said since meeting me.” “I am still captain.” “I noticed.” “You are still technically my prisoner.” “That will make dinner awkward.” “And I still do not know whether your father’s people betrayed my routes.” “My father’s people may not be responsible.” “You see?” “I see what?” “You are defending them.” “I am thinking.” “You are Portuguese.” “And you are Chinese. Are we listing obvious facts now?” Lin Xiu folded her arms. “You could leave when I release your father.” Catarina stopped. The cabin grew quiet. “Yes.” “You may want to.” “Yes.” Lin Xiu’s face became unreadable. Catarina crossed the room. “You are doing it again.” “What?” “Pretending you do not care before anyone has the opportunity to disappoint you.” “That is not what I am doing.” “It is exactly what you are doing.” “You know me three days.” “I know enough.” “You know nothing.” Catarina stepped closer. “Then tell me.” Lin Xiu looked away. Catarina waited. Finally Lin Xiu said, “Everyone leaves.” It was spoken so quietly that Catarina almost missed it. “My mother left when I was fourteen. My first captain sold me when he needed money. The woman I trusted before I had my own ship betrayed our anchorage for amnesty. Half the men who once swore loyalty to me later tried to collect the reward on my head.” Catarina said nothing. Lin Xiu looked at her again. “So forgive me if one beautiful Portuguese woman appearing aboard my ship and looking at me as though the world has suddenly become very simple does not immediately persuade me to redesign my life.” Catarina’s expression changed. “You think this is simple for me?” “You can go home.” “To what?” “Your family.” “My father intends to marry me to a merchant in Goa.” Lin Xiu blinked. “What?” “I have refused three times.” “And?” “He has accepted my refusal three times and arranged it four.” Lin Xiu’s jaw tightened. “You did not tell me.” “You did not ask.” “I would have—” “What? Attacked him?” “I already did.” Catarina laughed despite herself. Lin Xiu stepped nearer. “You do not want to marry him.” “I have never wanted to marry any man.” The room became very still. Lin Xiu understood. Catarina let her. “My father knows,” Catarina continued. “Or suspects. We simply never speak of it, because Portuguese families possess a miraculous ability to turn silence into architecture.” Lin Xiu lifted a hand to Catarina’s cheek. This time she touched her. “You could stay here.” Catarina’s heart slammed once against her ribs. “What?” “I said could.” “That sounded dangerously close to an invitation.” “It was not.” “Xiu.” Lin Xiu sighed. “It was an invitation.” Catarina smiled. “Say it properly.” “No.” “Pirate queen afraid of a sentence?” “I have killed men for less provocation.” “Say it.” Lin Xiu pulled Catarina close. “Stay with me.” Catarina whispered, “That is better.” Then she kissed her. When they separated, Catarina rested her forehead against Lin Xiu’s. “If I stay,” she murmured, “I will not be hidden.” “I would not know how to hide you.” “I will argue with you.” “You already do.” “I will interfere with navigation.” “You already do.” “I will tell you when your plans are foolish.” “You already do.” “And I refuse to be treated as a decorative Portuguese captive.” Lin Xiu stared at her. “Catarina, there is absolutely nothing decorative about the trouble you cause.” “Good.” “And if you stay in my quarters, my entire crew will know before sunrise.” “They knew before we did.” Lin Xiu considered that. “Yes,” she admitted. “Probably.” V. The Chest Captain Almeida was released four days later. He stood on the deck of a neutral merchant vessel and stared at his daughter as though he were attempting to understand a navigational error no instrument could explain. “You are not coming.” It was not a question. Catarina shook her head. “No.” “You are choosing pirates.” Catarina looked toward the Red Phoenix , where Lin Xiu waited by the rail without interfering. “I am choosing myself.” Her father followed her gaze. Then he understood something else. His face hardened. “You cannot be serious.” “I have rarely been more serious.” “That woman attacked my ship.” “Yes.” “She held us prisoner.” “Briefly.” “She is wanted by three governments.” “Four,” Catarina corrected. Her father stared. “She told you that?” “I counted.” “Catarina.” “Father.” He looked again toward Lin Xiu. “Do you love her?” The question was so direct that Catarina almost laughed. Instead she answered just as directly. “I think I began to on the first day.” “That is madness.” “Yes.” “And what happens when she gets you killed?” Catarina smiled sadly. “What happens if I go home and spend forty years wishing I had stayed?” Her father had no answer. So Catarina kissed his cheek. “Tell Mother I am alive.” “She will kill me.” “Tell her I was kidnapped.” “You were.” “Then for once we agree.” She returned to the Red Phoenix carrying one wooden chest. Lin Xiu met her inside the captain’s quarters. “You brought very little.” “I own very little that belongs on a pirate ship.” Lin Xiu looked at the chest. “What is in it?” “Clothes. Two books. My mother’s comb. A bottle of Madeira I stole from my father.” Lin Xiu smiled. “Now you are a pirate.” Catarina placed the chest beside Lin Xiu’s. “No.” “No?” “I became a pirate when I stole the sword.” “That was my sword.” “I know.” “You still have it.” “I know.” Lin Xiu shook her head. Catarina opened the chest. Lin Xiu began helping her fold garments into the narrow cupboards beside the bunk, and within minutes the captain’s famously austere quarters had acquired a Portuguese shawl, two linen shirts, three books and an argument about where Catarina’s boots should go. “Not there,” Lin Xiu said. “Why?” “That is where I keep ammunition.” “You keep ammunition beneath the bed?” “It is convenient.” “It is insane.” “It has worked for nine years.” “You are moving it.” “I am captain.” “I am moving it.” Lin Xiu stared at her. Catarina stared back. From the doorway, Lin Xiu’s first officer coughed suspiciously into her hand and disappeared before either woman could turn. Catarina smiled. “She likes me.” “She thinks you are destroying discipline.” “I can do both.” That evening Catarina found half of the ammunition relocated. She said nothing. Neither did Lin Xiu. Instead Catarina sat beside her on the bunk while the Red Phoenix rolled gently beneath them, the sound of women laughing on deck drifting through the wooden walls. Lin Xiu leaned back against the bulkhead. “You realize this ship is not safe.” “I noticed the cannon.” “We are hunted.” “I noticed the wanted notices.” “I have enemies.” “I have met several.” Lin Xiu turned toward her. “And you are staying.” Catarina took her hand. “Yes.” “Why?” Catarina smiled. “You really need me to say it?” “Yes.” The fear beneath that single word was so small and so uncharacteristic that Catarina’s teasing vanished. She brought Lin Xiu’s hand to her lips. “Because when you boarded my father’s ship, I looked at you and knew immediately that something terrible had happened.” Lin Xiu frowned. “Terrible?” “I had fallen in love with a pirate.” “That is terrible.” “Catastrophic.” “And now?” Catarina leaned closer. “Now I have discovered the pirate snores.” “I do not.” “You do.” “You have slept here once.” “Enough evidence.” “I may reconsider allowing you to stay.” Catarina kissed her. “You asked me to stay.” “I was temporarily irrational.” Catarina kissed her again. “Still irrational?” Lin Xiu slid an arm around her waist. “Completely.” Outside, the great red sails filled with the night wind. The Red Phoenix turned south. And in the captain’s quarters, where there had once been one sea chest, one sword beside the bunk and one woman accustomed to sleeping alone, there were now two chests, two pairs of boots, two swords within reach, and two stubborn women who had each spent years believing that trust was something surrendered rather than given. Neither of them would ever become particularly good at surrender. Fortunately, love required something else. It required choosing. And when dawn found the Red Phoenix running before a clean wind toward the open South China Sea, Lin Xiu woke with Catarina’s head against her shoulder, listened to the familiar creak of timber and sail above them, and understood that for the first time in her life someone had been offered a way home— and had chosen her instead. The End