Compass Rose

She was barely tall enough to see over the railing, having to stand on piles of coiled rope to get a glimpse of the sea. Her hair was bound at the base of her neck with a satin ribbon, the long strawberry blonde curls bouncing with each touch of wind, and the heavy layers of her pink dress billowed around her legs.

The sound of the Captain’s door opening drew her attention and she eagerly hopped to the deck, her hard soled shoes clip-clopping across the planks as she ran toward the bridge deck where Captain Harris unrolled his maps, gathering her skirts and trotting up the stairs. Captain Harris saw her coming and smiled, stepping to the side to make room for her, lifting her onto a box so she could see the maps.

Staring with wide blue eyes, she watched as Captain Harris pulled a small, round brass object from his pocket, opening its lid and peering at the bobbing needle within.

“What’s that?” she asked, excitement plain in her songbird voice.

“It’s a compass, Rose.” He answered, lowering it so she could see it more clearly. “That needle inside always points north, so no matter where we are we can always find our way home.” It had been strange at first having a child on the ship, let alone a female one, and it had taken some smooth talking to get the crew to accept her and not think of her as bad luck. But now, three weeks into their journey, he had become quite fond of the little girl.

Rose was betrothed to a foreign Duke who was at least twenty years her senior. The arrangement, while none of the Captain’s business, set his dander up. What kind of parent was so eager to be rid of their child as to send them off to be married before the blush of womanhood was upon her?

Captain Harris sat the compass on Rose’s small palm, watching her eyes light up as the needle bounced and danced under the crystal, and she looked excitedly from the compass to the Captain’s face and back again. He couldn’t help but smile at her unabashed enthusiasm.

Shouting erupted from the crow’s nest and everyone looked up to find the crewman posted pointing to port and shouting pirates. Chaos engulfed the ship, men running to and fro to prepare for a possible battle.

“Hold onto that, little one,” Captain Harris said, scooping Rose up and running down the stairs, ducking into his own cabin and depositing her behind his desk. “Stay here,” he said as he made his way toward the door, “And don’t come out no matter what you hear.”

Rose crawled under the desk and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs and squeezing the compass tight. The sounds of yelling, gunfire and tromping boots overhead created a cacophony of noise that made her head hurt, but slowly the noise eased until only the creak of the hull filled the air.

Trepidatiously Rose crawled from beneath the desk, climbing to her feet and walking to the door. Grasping the brass handle she turned it and pulled the heavy wooden door open, letting out a startled scream when she was roughly grabbed and hauled onto the main deck before being dropped unceremoniously at the feet of a stranger. Opening her hands to break her fall, the compass hit the deck and rolled, stopping when it met the black leather of the stranger’s boots.

Rose looked up into the deeply lined face of who she could only assume was the pirate captain. He wore a red scarf on his head that matched the sash at his waist, gold embroidered breeches and tunic hung on his thin frame as though made for someone else, which they undoubtedly had been.

Reaching out to reclaim the compass, the pirate Captain bent down and snatched it away from her, laughing when she glared up at him. Climbing to her feet Rose seethed at him, oblivious to the sea of pirates surrounding her and the ship’s crew.

“Give that back,” Rose ordered, her tiny hands fisted at her sides. “That doesn’t belong to you.”

The Pirate Captain laughed, “You hear that boys, it doesn’t belong to me.” His mocking tone made Rose’s blood feel like fire in her veins. He bent down to be at eye level with her, his breath rank with whiskey and rot, “But that’s never mattered much to me.”

A smile spread across Rose’s face, slow and sinister, and it was enough to back the Pirate Captain up a step. The calm wind that had been steadily blowing picked up, but only on the deck where they stood, the ocean swells remained small and didn’t break. Rose slowly opened her arms wide, her little fingers flexed straight out and palms up, seeming to will the wind into action.

The Pirate Captain shouted an order to one of his crew, pointing at Rose as he spoke, his words lost to the wind. With a nod the crewman drew his sword and pushed his way through the wind, his menacing snarl paling in comparison to Rose’s and with one quick motion of her hand the blade of his sword curled up like burned parchment.

Captain Harris watched wide eyed as Rose fended off every armed man who tried to cut her down, their weapons twisting, torquing and melting at her command. It only took a few minutes before the men fled back to their own ship, and as their Captain stated to move Rose stopped him with a look, holding her small hand out to him.

As though approaching an unpredictable animal he stretched his arm out as long as it would go and gently sat the compass in her hand, backing away as Rose curled her fingers around it. The pirates scrambled away, severed the ropes that bound the two ships together and made a hasty departure.

As their ship made its way toward the horizon, Rose turned to Captain Harris and smiled sweetly, holding the compass out to him, “Now we can get home.”