I tapped my pointer finger against my chin. The only defense we had for our people were rolled wax earplugs, and as six unfortunate men learned yesterday, it was far from foolproof. “What do the men do on the ship?”

“Nothing. They patrol the decks when they aren’t in siren-charted waters. It’s the women who do all the hard work. I tried to pry more information out of the crew, but they were mute on the subject. One of the females did explain that the captain is usually a man, but since Captain Nathaniel Farrington didn’t bear a son, Elouise took the role when he died.”

“What else?”

“Not much. The ship is in good shape. They’ve got a room full of stolen treasures next to the brig. Other than that, it’s very similar to The Sea Singer.”

“Good. You did well.” I patted my uncle on the back before dropping off the barrel. We stood in silence, watching the men gather their things and leave their seafaring home for several nights on land.

The smell of floral soap preceded Captain Lou’s materialization at my side. I didn’t have to look over. My men cared little for hygiene and carried a very different scent.

“I hope my crew will be well-provided for while we meet with the king.” She’d humbled her tone into a clear request.

I couldn’t bring myself to antagonize her, not after what she’d endured yesterday. “You have my word.”

For a moment, the three of us stood shoulder to shoulder, quiet and pensive as we took in the city before us. We inhaled the scents of the kingdom I once called home. The heady aromas of anise, cinnamon, cumin, and black pepper. Coffee beans roasting in large metal vats. The sweet smells of figs and raisins roasting alongside unctuous slabs of pork belly prepared in the market stalls just beyond the dock. It was mouthwatering, but not the smell I yearned for. Give me the smell of fish hanging thick in the salty air, the scent of rain and sunshine brought by gusts of wind, the odor of sweat from arduous work, and the damp, earthy wood scent of the deck.

A long, sorrowful exhale made me look over at Captain Lou in surprise. Perhaps she, too, had a deeper love for the ocean than for land.

“Well then, let’s get this over with,” she said before motioning to her two remaining crewmates. They joined her in her descent to the dock.

Captain Lou erected her spine, stacking her shoulders over her shapely hips, as she walked with her chin held high. Although of average height, the chip on her shoulder elongated her somehow. Her blond curls bounced off her new, spotless cream tunic. My brows pinched together. New tunic? Yes, and new trousers, clean of her first mates’ carnage. But where had she gotten them?