Motion on the deck catches my eye, and I glance up to see the captain climbing down the rigging, quick and sure on the ropes as the ship tips from side to side. He’s still ten feet above the deck when he springs to the boards like we’re on solid ground. His dark hair is windblown, his cheeks a bit flushed from the cool morning air. His jacket is loose, revealing a maroon shirt that’s unbuttoned at his neck, leaving his sun-kissed collarbones bare. A short blade hangs belted at his waist, with a longer one buckled to his thigh. I don’t think I’ve seen him wear a weapon before.
