CAPTAIN MAEVE
     by Paul Genesse
     
     “I’ll put a knife in him tonight.” Baxter leaned against the door to Maeve’s spacious cabin in the aft of Crosswind.
     
     Maeve fixed her hazel eyes on him and considered his offer as the waves splashed against the hull. “No, we can’t kill Cap’n Budge.”
     
     “He ain’t Cap’n no more.” Bax motioned at the lavish cabin they now occupied, the lantern light revealing all the fine carpets, paintings, and furniture Budge had plundered over the years. “You should’ve killed him back at the
     lagoon when you fed his hand to the sharks.”
     
     Maeve sighed and tried to suppress her guilt about maiming the man who had saved her life when she fled after her husband’s death. Without Captain Gilbert Budge, her head would be on a spike next to her husband Bull’s. Gil had
     risked the ire of the entire Angallian navy by saving her life. She wasn’t going to kill him. “I shouldn’t have wounded him like that.”
     
     Bax raised an eyebrow. “Just say the word and I can finish the job.”
     
     Shadows tilting in from the aft window played across Baxter’s weathered and pockmarked face. Even by pirate’s standards, Bax was fearsome looking, if not downright ugly. Maeve found him ruggedly
     handsome, despite him being in his forties, just over ten years older than
     she.
     
     Maeve lay down, propping herself on her elbows so he could get a good view of her cleavage as she lounged on the bed. She pushed her long curly black hair away from her face. He ignored her for a very long time. Maeve wondered if
     he had gone blind from all the punches to the face that had knocked loose so many of his teeth. She turned around and angled her curvy hips in such a way that the lantern would let Baxter see her full backside, barely covered by a thin
     nightshirt.
     
     Still nothing.
     
     Maeve shook her head in disgust at the older sailor and finally blew out the lantern. Stars twinkled outside the small window. Baxter continued to sulk in the darkness as far away from her bed as he could get. How had it all come to this?
     
     All she wanted to do was claim her buried loot and leave the pirate life behind forever. If Finneous Crab hadn’t stranded her on Stove Pipe Island and stolen her treasure, none of this would have ever happened. Now even Baxter
     was angry with her. “What’s wrong with you, Bax?”
     
     “I’m not going to wait until Budge kills you. He be stirring up the crew. You know what’s on their minds.” Baxter didn’t have to say it: mutiny. They both knew it wouldn’t be long before Budge regained control of his ship. Maeve had kept Budge asleep or delirious for nearly two days as he fought off the fever that afflicted him while his stump was healing. Now with her spell worn off, time was running out.
     
     Maeve had promised the crew that she would get back the treasure known as the Queen’s Ransom, stolen by captain Finneous Crab, and make Crosswind’s crew the wealthiest and most feared in all the seas. Apparently, two days was all
     the time they would give her. Typical impatient men.
     
     “By morning, eh?” Baxter put his bedding, plus two daggers, a trio of throwing knives, his cutlass, and a stout club in front of the only door to her cabin. He intended to sleep on the floor once again. If anyone tried to force the
     door they’d wake him and find a length of steel piercing their body.
     
     Maeve turned onto her side and let out a long sigh. Did he want the two of them to take on the whole crew? Baxter grumbled as he tried to find a comfortable position on the hard deck. He didn’t need to sleep on the floor. Maeve thought Baxter would feel wonderful pressed up against her from behind; his scarred arms wrapped around her body might be the only thing in the world that would give her comfort. She could think of a few soft places he could rest his hands, too. They
     had shared a kiss a couple of days ago when she had seized control of Crosswind, but she still hadn’t explicitly invited him into her bed. Would tonight be their first time?
     
     For several minutes, she resisted the urge to call him over, though she couldn’t explain why she felt so hesitant. Her cheating husband, Bull Tierney, was definitely not coming back. Ever. Maeve had seen to that when she trapped
     his ghost in the Angallian queen’s crown and hid the coronet where no one would ever look. That part of her life was over, and it was time for new beginnings. She would captain Crosswind until they had recovered the treasure,
     and then she would give the ship back to Captain Budge. She and Baxter could retire with their share of the loot, and she would forget what it was like to live as the “pirate witch.”
     
     All she had to do was hold off a mutiny long enough to find Finneous Crab and the treasure.
     Crab was not going to enjoy the moment when she caught up with him, but the acolyte priestesses—Sarah, Winnie, and Faith—whom he was escorting to Seton Island, would have to be protected from Crosswind’s crew. As captain,
     she had a chance, but Maeve still had to figure out how to do that. She hoped that a situation would come up where she would hold the advantage.
     
     The creaking of the ship and the splash of the waves against the hull sounded like voices telling her she was a fool for wanting to leave the sea and for not bedding Baxter weeks ago when they had been hiding in Bilgewater. “Bax,” Maeve whispered, “why don’t you come over here and lay beside me.” He didn’t respond. “Bax?”
     
     Still nothing. She thought, He isn’t going to ignore me.
     
     Maeve peeled off her clothes, slipped out of her bed, and crawled across the floor with a determined—not desperate—look on her face. She slid up against him, brushing her breasts against his bare chest. “Just like a man,” Maeve kissed him on the mouth and straddled his hips, “too lazy to get up off your arse when a woman summons you.”
     
     “I can think of better things you can do with your tongue.” Baxter kissed her hard, and she loved the feel of his calloused hands on her backside. His mouth was hot, and when she could wait no longer she yanked down his
     breeches. They exchanged wicked grins.
     
     A shadow blocked out the starlight coming in through the window. The click of a crossbow caught Maeve’s attention, and a deadly shaft skewered the empty shirt on her bed. A man dangled from a rope suspended outside her
     window. Baxter rolled Maeve off him, lunged forward, and hurled a knife.
     
     
Back