Laviku's Plunder II

[Kyo]

Thread continued from here.

37th of Winter, continued

"Mack. Let us go. Let us go home."

He had said it to protect Pearl. To keep those hungry, calculating eyes from Pearl's face, from her unprotected, unarmed body, sensing some unspoken danger from the pirate-man, some unknown threat.

It didn't work.

Kyo had been expecting anger after he had spoken but it was not what he got. Mack --the man the others called Captain-- simply strolled across the deck, unbothered. He was close behind where Pearl was working and he trailed a hand lightly over her shoulder, fingers touching skin. When Kyo shifted his body as if to move, those clear eyes were quick on him. Then the man walked again, languorous but not slouching, and he came to stand next to Kyo's side.

"Let you go?" he chuckled, a low hoarse sound flavored by strong-smelling breath. This time when he reached out it was to pat Kyo on the head, a sharp demeaning rap of the palm. The coyote-man shifted again where he sat, feeling a burning in his face. He looked away from Mack's sharp gaze and the salt-smelling-man laughed again. Nearby, one of the dogs let out another deep growl.

"Word to the wise," Mack said, looking between dogs and crew and captives, "Quiet and complacent keeps all heads firmly moored."

---

Pearl had patched up Kyo's face as best she could with what she had. He was one of the last taken care of, and as soon as everyone was tended they were heaved up by the arms, the blindfolds wrapped tight around their eyes once more, dragged stumbling away.

They were taken back down to the brig where the smell was not so strong as before, and the women and children made room as the injured men were brought back in. One by one the men were set free from their bonds at the door and shoved inside. Some might have thought to rush the door, but the pirates were waiting there with hands on the hilts of weapons. There was nothing anyone could do but glare.

Kyo felt his hands freed from behind him and immediately after the hard push that sent him tumbling back into the cage. He nearly slipped on the wet-wood ground but caught himself on a wall. Just as he ripped the blindfold from his head he heard someone scream behind him.

It was Fara.

Two of the pirate crew had grabbed her, untangling her from the crude hammock she'd been resting in. When Kyo went towards them, trying to do something, anything to get to her, to get them off her, he was met with the tip of a sword aimed to pierce him through the belly. He had to stop and leap back to keep himself from being jabbed. The hollow agony of watching his pavilion-mate taken away was almost as sharp as the edge of the blade that threatened him.

Fara was hauled wailing from the cell and only after she had gone, only after the door had been locked again behind her, did Kyo realize that Pearl, too, was not there. They had not brought her back with the others.

Weakness and confusion were all that were left in him. Not knowing what to do, he slopped his way to the bars on the side, going numbly to the door as if it might just open and let him out. Quicktide was soon at his shoulder, murmuring in low consoling words. Kyo let himself be led back towards the main of the cell. He went down to the floor and mindlessly set to helping the others, scrubbing and cleaning away the remaining filth on the floor as tears burned hot in his eyes.

---

It was night, dark and quiet except for the sloshing of the waves, when the screams began. Some who had been sleeping awoke, the children restless, their wide, wet eyes reflecting the low light of the moon.

By now Kyo knew that sound too well. Fara. She was screaming and screaming, sometimes low and moaning and barely heard. Other times her cries came high and ragged like the breath itself was being stolen out of her, or perhaps something much more precious.

Kyo couldn't feel how futile it all was; he was up from his spot on the floor and scrambling around yet again for a way out. He didn't feel good up on his feet, his legs weak and watery from stress and not eating. The bars he tugged at as hard as he could, but they didn't move, didn't even creak.

The crazed shifter-man was just at the point of sliding his shirt from his shoulders, planning to try again to squeeze his way out of the bars as a coyote, when there were heavy footsteps and yellow light from above.

The shadows of men peered down at them from up on deck, menacing in the dark. "Any other healers better speak up now or the woman dies," a craggy voice said.

"Speaking in Common"
"And in Vani{descriptors}"
"And in Tukant [implications, descriptors]"
"And in Pavi" grassland sign

[Amunet]

The woman that was called ‘Pepper’ seemed to understand that there might be more to the little red head as Amunet was able to get these head strong people to get to do these tasks. The woman had to take the scrub brush out of her hands to get her to stop scrubbing. She looked at her like she was crazy but the brig was clean enough. Amunet nursed her sore hands when she sat in the corner with the children and Fara. Her head turned over to check on the woman who was cradled nicely. She was for the moment as comfortable as possible. Her brain worked on possible ways to mitigate the stress, but there were precious few options. Some would say there were no options. The Healer was not willing to give into that dismal thought.

She stood up to scoop up water and bring it first to Fara, then the children and then to the rest as she made sure each got a drink. Some thought the water might be poisoned. “Don’t be foolish. They can’t get gold for the dead. “ This answer came in a soothing voice that was easy on the ear. Her bedside manner had been one of her finer qualities. It was at that point that the injured was returned to the Brig. She turned to move to help them back in to aid their recovery. She was pushed back so the door could be closed. She stood there looking for Pearl as she should have been behind them. In the logic of her mind it had to be. Yet there was no Pearl. There was no comfort. Her hands grasped the bars as she peered down the dark wooden narrow hall. Where was she? Eventually she moved to her seat near the children and Fara. She turned towards the returned injured and at least Kyo was there. That was something.

Some time passed, she wasn’t sure how long as her time sense was completely off on the water and the narrow hatch up top did little to reveal the time other than generalities of day and night. They came and took Fara. Amunet tried to tell them that her condition was too far along to be moved like that but they moved her. They took her. The children clung to her. Her hands would wrap around their heads and slight shoulders and cling to them too. She took a ragged breath in as she fought the emotions that fought and churned with in her like the sea herself. Though her heart was like lead in her chest she encouraged the children to sit and get rest. Some kind of food came down to them about the same time the men came back from rowing so they could rest and eat for a scant couple of hours only to be dragged back out to do it again.

Amunet saw to their shoulders and arms as she spoke reassuring words. She believed, she had to believe, she will believe. This isn’t some mantra; this was the very core of her soul. The red head distributed the food and no one fussed. They came to claim their chain gang of rowers. Amunet sat down and put her head back as she tried to find some solace. The fervent prayers to Rak’keli increased. The Thank you’s increased as those in her charge were relatively healthy. The cleaner brig, waste disposal, cleaner water and cheap food was better than what they had. It was something.

Her head was against the bulkhead as she dozed off sitting up. Two of the younger children had fallen asleep on her lap. She took a deep breath in to look around wondering what had awakened her. Kyo was on his feet at the bars. Then there was the scream. Unfortunately she knew that kind of scream. “oh no, the baby.” The pirates had peered down in the hatch. She looked up as they asked if there was any healers. She did not want to overtly say she as a healer.

“I a midwife.” Her common was ok and did well enough to convey that she had medical training. It was good enough as she was hoisted up from the Brig. She tried to tell Kyo that it was ok. She would be back. The little healer didn’t know how hollow that promise was in the grip of these pirates. Her hand went to the wool cowl that was over the thick mane of hair that she kept pulled up and over her face.

She was hurried to almost a run to where they kept Pearl and Fara. It was a grisly scene which was as she feared. She quickly moved to the both of them. Pearl’s worried face told her most of what she needed to know the rest was relayed. Pearl told her the baby was not head down, she was throwing blood clots and a lot of them and she was not dilating. This was spelling all kinds of disaster. Her hand was on Fara’s forehead as she was burning up. The little lady felt a surge go from the mark and through to her hand to relieve as much pain as possible. Her other hand was on the belly as hopefully the same grace would extend to the infant.

After two hours of birth pains, screaming and no improvement with the dilation, the bleeding became worse. Her hand went to the abdomen and it seemed that the baby was in danger as the grace she had did move to the baby. The baby was in better shape than Fara if that was of any comfort. Amunet yelled to the door “we need scalpel, oil and hot clean water. “ There seemed to be all the herbs needed. The oil was in case they could turn the baby but with this amount of bleeding and as burning up as Fara was she feared for her. “we have no time. If we don’t get this baby out we will lose both of them” Her voice carried with it the note of urgency and no small amount of concern for the pregnant woman’s health.

It took several minutes before Pearl’s scalpel came from the man himself, Captain Mack. Amunet turned her attention to Fara. Several men were in there to make sure the scalpel wasn’t a ruse. At Pearl’s direction, Amunet had made a strong decoction of valerian mixed with a stronger sedative herb. She verified the measurements with Pearl to make sure she was not overdosing the woman just knocking her out. The brew was very bitter but Fara drank it down. Amunet looked in her eyes and she didn’t like what she saw. They was a cloud in those eyes. Her cowl came down as she pushed her hair aside to push the limit. Her hand didn’t leave her bare skin as she willed the grace she was granted to keep the woman alive. Amunet started making her incision as she watched the procedure. One scream from Fara and she passed out. Amunet may not realize it but the touch of grace while it helped with Fara’s pain went to the baby inside. The factors were mounting against Fara’s cling to the mortal coil. Amunet was there to take the baby into cloths. He was small but then he was a bit early it seemed. The girl cleaned him up a little bit as her hand and the sigil blazed across her face now in full view. The baby was crying and getting pinky. As soon as she touched the child, he stopped crying as she crooned soothing sounds to the newborn.

Pearl was crying. Amunet turned to Fara as it was clear that the woman was now dead. She swallowed hard as she needed to keep calm and her emotions even for the baby. Her body was then turned as she was faced with the Captain himself. “What do we have here? A Healer. “ That finger traced the mark ever so gently and down to her jaw line. Amunet moved her head away from his fingers as she took a step back. His smile grew more menacing and calculating. Her heart thudded in her chest.

[Kyo]

OOCReally sorry for taking so long. I'll try to be better, I promise!

First Pearl, then Fara. Now Amunet.

Amunet, from above, was saying that it would be okay. That she would be brought back. Kyo stared at her blankly, wanting to believe, but he could still hear Fara's screams, and how long after Amunet left would she add her own voice?

He was afraid for her as the hatch door swung closed above. Amunet was being led away, out of sight, and Kyo watched her as long as he could, but the pirates were leading her away so fast --practically running-- that he didn't see her for long, or where she went. Then he felt a tug on his hand and it was little Ryun, Ramsay's lamb, young and looking as frightened as he felt.

The children. They had clung to Amunet for safety and help but now Amunet was gone. Kyo opened his mouth to tell them that it would be okay, much like Amunet had told him. But no words would come out. He couldn't do it, and none of the other adults even tried.

One by one, the group of kids split and found new guardians to stay beside, now that their true comforter had left. Ryun stuck to Kyo's side like a crawling vine. Trading looks with Quicktide, Kyo settled back down on the floor with Ryun leaning close, laying her head on his chest. When he tried to talk to her, to ask if she was alright, she didn't say anything, just stared forward and sucked on her knuckles.

Kyo didn't sleep much that night, and neither did many as they listened to Fara scream and cry. Her torment went on for so long that Kyo couldn't tell how long it really lasted. Too long. Too long.

Then abruptly the noise fell and Fara was quiet. After that the kids were able to nod off into uncomfortable dreams, many of them seeming to have nightmares now that Amunet was not here to soothe them.

The adults' faces were grim; it seemed they didn't dare close their eyes after that aching silence.

---
38th of Winter, 515 AV
just before dawn

It was because the adults were all awake, all waiting for something --something bad-- to happen, that they saw the pair of pirates shuffle overhead, carrying the limp figure between them. A drip of something dark dropped down between the bars to dot the floor. A woman hastily wiped the mark away; a man called out for the pirates to bring the women back, but the pirates ignored him. Then the body was carried out of sight.

It was dead silent in the brig, and so they all heard the splash of something heavy going overboard and into the sea.

After that some looked angry and had to fight their rage down into a quiet simmer, but others, others were very, very scared.

---
later

Kyo was hauled out with the others that day to work on rowing the ship. The Drykas were in a poor mood. Some went to rowing right off, heads ducked down and shoulders heaving as their hearts beat dull with fear in their chests.

Others resisted. They were chained to metal rings on the walls and could not hope to escape, but they refused to row, believing the pirates had killed one of their own. The overseer soon took out a whip and handed out lashes to those who wouldn't work. Eventually everyone set to rowing in the tight, splenetic atmosphere.

Kyo earned a lash, maybe a couple more, when he had to stop rowing to catch his breath, panting hard in the wet, salty air. His head was swirling and his belly and muscles cramped from hunger and fatigue. Tired, just tired, he set back to his work.

Some time later, after the sun was high in the sky and the wind had finally, thankfully begun to pick up, they let the men go back to their prison to rest. Kyo gulped enough water to make him feel sick and flopped down in a corner. Ryun was stuck to his sweaty side again, and they napped together to the rocking of the sea.

---
nearing night

He woke to the sounds of whispering hands and a low but heated argument. The Drykas were splitting; one of them, maybe more than one, had cracked. The others were desperately trying to keep them in line. Two were on the brink of fighting, one young man and one old. Fists were raised and people had to hold the older man back. The young man no one seemed to want to touch.

Kyo could barely follow the argument by himself, but Quicktide was there to help him when he asked what was happening. Quicktide, barely older than the young arguer and looking green around the face, explained in a low, hushed voice, "Tyran Evenstep of Diamond says that he is tired of living in these conditions. He thinks that if we Drykas help the pirates, if we try to be useful, that we will be treated better. More food, better water, more place to sleep. Befriend the pirates, he says, or we will all die like the pregnant woman."

"The elder one, Zadock Fairsummer of Topaz, says that we must not work with our enemies or else become enemies of our people. Tyran says what people? We are people-less now and must look to ourselves. Do what we have to now to survive. Zadock says that Tyran is a coward and traitor to his home." More voices were breaking into the argument, trying to keep the two men apart. "The others are trying to stop a fight," Quicktide said quickly, under his breath.

It wasn't long before the cacophony of murmured voices was noticed by the ship's crew.

"What's going on here?" Someone, one of the pirate women, the wild-looking one, was looking down into the brig. Immediately the argument died, the Drykas looking up at her with set and silent mouths, some defiant.

One was not silent, though. A rushed voice spoke up; Tyran Evenstep. "I wish to join the pirate crew," he said, and despite being a pirate the woman seemed to understand him.

"Do you?" she asked, cracking a chipped-tooth smile. "And are you weak or strong?"

"Strong. I am Diamond clan; a warrior."

"We'll see you shatter." She called something over her shoulder in another language, that strange-pirate language that was like the hot bubbling of water. The other woman, the face-painted one, appeared by her side, clacking something that sounded like bones in her hand. "Alright strong-one, oh Diamond, come up and we will see how strong you are."

Tyran hesitated, and there was something nervous in his posture, something almost like dread in his eyes. But then he looked around, and the hard stares the Drykas gave him were enough to propel him up to grab the women's hands and let them haul him up to the deck. One of them, the wild-one, let out a cracking laugh and tossed her hair, shoving him away from the brig hatch and out of sight.

Soon the Drykas went back to their mutterings. Zadock now was at the center of the talking, the others looking to him for moderation as people debated what to do, needing someone experienced and strong-minded to serve as an unofficial Ankal while they were helpless, lost to the sea.

"Speaking in Common"
"And in Vani{descriptors}"
"And in Tukant [implications, descriptors]"
"And in Pavi" grassland sign

[Amunet]

The healer’s arm was grabbed as the newborn was handed off to someone she didn’t know. Her body was propelled forward purposely and roughly till she was shoved into a tiny room. The door was locked securely soon after with an aweful click. Her little fists moved to the door banging on it to let her back to her people. Her voice rising above as it grew louder and louder to let her back to her people. Her people needed her. There was no answer and nothing heeded her plea.

Her eyes went to the ceiling to pray to Rak’keli for a sign for something to show her the way to get her and her people out of this. There was an equally awful large splash that Amunet could only guess what it was. She didn’t want to think about what it could be as her agile mind and imagination could come up with a great deal of ideas to place into that unknown space of not knowing. Each one discarded as fanciful thinking. The girl gingerly sat down on the bed that was in the room. It was warmer in here. Her head turned towards the small port hole that you could see the waters.

Tears welled up as they streamed openly down her face. The knots in her stomach were talking loudly as she hugged herself and rocked back and forth to try to find some shred of hope, some shred of an option. They had been whittled down to nothing. The little healer could see no option or positive in anything right now. It seemed utterly hopeless.

The girl let herself cry. After some time those subsided as the initial flood of raw emotion had ran its course. Like stampeding horses, eventually they come to a walk. It is the same for the tumultuous emotions of this red head. She sniffed a moment or two as the initial cloud that plagued her sifted through and she looked out the window again. The sunlight glistened off of the waves. The sun had risen and she found herself exhausted. Her shoulders were tense as if anticipating the heavy hands to rip through the door to grab her and take her somewhere else.

That unknown fact had her tearing up again. The girl was out of energy, out of resources and out of time. She took several shaky breaths in and exhaled just as shakily. Her little hands gripped the wood of the bed. Part of her wanted to lay down and give into rest. The other part of her protested loudly at letting her guard down. After expending so much energy trying to keep the pregnant woman and then the baby alive only to save the baby to an unknown fate, her body was a spent shell. Before she knew it those pretty sky blue eyes with the golden sunbursts closed and she was half lying with her legs over the side sleeping. Her exhaustion won out as she passed out.

[Prophet]

The eyes watched her with a voracious appetite. The tiny frame rose and fell with each breath in a rhythm as gentle as a calm sea which only served to fuel the imagination of the devious man. The modest dress was dirty and frayed along one of the hems giving a bright accent to the alabaster skin with its smooth surface and soft appeal. The woman’s hair was splayed about in tangled curls that both framed and partially obscured the attractive little features. Time didn’t matter when the captain was within the confines of his quarters and he certainly was going to take plenty of it to welcome his newest guest. With the skill of an old mouse, he slipped across the cabin’s floor without making a sound knowing exactly where to trod to avoid any creaking planks. The door that Amunet was brought through was heavy and had rusty hinges that protested every time they were asked to do their job. Fortunately, there was another passage which was secret and well-oiled that gave the man a chance to observe the young thing while she slept undisturbed.

The faint lines of distant tears stained her pallid cheek. Mack lifted his hand and gently dusted the saline’s trace with the backside of two fingers. Even though he was a pirate, he had delusions of grandeur that allowed his mind to convince him that he was more of a refined human being than the monster he portrayed to his crew. Such fallacies where never addressed or challenged by anyone for fear of a quick death or worse…a slow one. The man’s reputation was well-earned through a pile of mangled and tortured bodies that could sink the very vessel on which he stood. An easy smile pushed his lips up at the corners and lit a fire behind his eyes though one could argue that it was the reflection of the fiery locks that captured the tiniest amounts of light from the flickering wisps of a dozen candles. Her exhaustion was understandable and it afforded the gluttonous man some leeway. His previous contact with her had been subtle enough that it did not rouse her from the dreams which pinned her eyes shut. He watched the shadows dance on her face and used those same two fingers to sweep some of the long curly tresses behind her ear. Mack smiled. This little treasure was going to be fun to count. Mack had a way of breaking people that involved keeping score and some of the crew had come to refer to it as counting.

Her lips formed a natural pout with the swollen bottom one protruding just enough that it caused a tiny pocket to form in between the two petals. It was here that Mack found himself diverting his attention. It was at this minute point where the captain was going to start his game. In a move that was both suddenly brutal and amazingly smooth, his hands wrapped around her head with the right thumb laying along her jaw allowing his fingers to splay against her neck and face. The left hand slipped underneath taking a large mass of hair but also the back of her skull. The two hands created a vice that was inescapable for such a small being especially considering that she was asleep. He tightened the vice with exertion from his shoulders and yanked her head upwards from the bed without a care towards the woman’s well-being. He brought her face against his and greedily pressed his salty, dried and chapped lips to hers. He tongue wormed its way with great force into the space between her lips. She was sweeter than he anticipated and it only fueled his desire to taste more. Before she could truly react to this movement, the three ticks of a stolen embrace passed and he shoved her back onto the mat releasing her in a way that would force her gaze down.

As if no infringement of personal space had been committed, he leaned his shoulder against a beam and watched her with a sadistic smile. He folded one arm into the other and tilted his head ever so slightly to give his beady eyes a better view of her figure now curled on his mat. His mind went to a series of activities he wished to perform that could be considered his favorites and even something new that he had been wanting to try. Bones had told him about it but he had a rule about sexing his crew. The grin broadened into a smile of pure evil but it oozed with charm. “Two…”

[Amunet]

She slept deep. The little red head was dreamless in her sleep. Thus the price of pushing a body past a point that was healthy. The tender caress of the two fingers she did not feel. This is unusual as she is a light sleeper. Exhaustion, lack of creature comforts and sanitation changes things. The weight of her body kept her immobile as nothing was beckoning her to move. The alarms that would have went off, did not go off. Not till she was pulled into those crusty salted lips. Those sky blue eyes popped open to an invasive slimy thing into her mouth. The muffled squeal of protest from the red head shrieked out as he stole that from her. The tongue was gross the whole thing was gross. Was kissing really like that? By what Gods who created kissing made it a thing of affection and love that she heard about? That was the most disgusting thing she ever had experienced and she had seen some bad wounds, disemboweled creatures and sicknesses. That slimy putrid salty thing in her mouth had her gagging a little as she put the back of her hand to her mouth. She had nothing in her stomach, so there was nothing to come up. Rather it was her lack of experience with men, relationships or the politics of the bed chambers, it clearly shown in her expression, eyes and body language she was not attracted, aroused or any indication she liked it.

The sunbursts caught the glint of candle, lantern or sunlight as it ‘sparkled’ in a way that gave her eyes a unique appeal. Once he had released his grip and she landed on the mat hard she raised her head to look up into the captain’s eyes looking dead into them as the stoked fire that seemed to always be there flared up. No one touched her without her permission. Pratal tried it and got his nose nearly broken. The fierce red head stood up quickly and scooted on her feet to put three or four feet between them and turned a little sideways. This was what she feared would happen.

The little woman didn’t say a word as she lifted her chin and the glory of the length of her hair fell down to her hips seemingly to flare around her like a flaming banner. His height didn’t seem to deter her or frighten her. The Drykas girl was used to having to look up a lot. Her fist clenched and released rhythmically watching his casual lean of the beam. Her entire body was tense. Her entire body ached and hungered for a real meal. The Healer knew she was on the weak side as her head wrapped around possible strategies. The girl took quick glances about the room. It was close quarters even though the room had amenities in it such as a bed, a chamber pot, chair and table. The distances these items were from each other in relation to herself and the captain was cataloged. Objects on the table came under scrutiny of those interesting sky blue eyes as well as the wardrobe in the far end, the chest nearby as well as the footlocker at the end of the bed. Those beautiful eyes then laid on the captain himself.

The look in his eyes was one she seen before in men who didn’t care but for wanting what they wanted only. The muscles in his hands were defined as was the weathered and calloused texture. It spoke of skill and work. He might be a pirate but he worked his trade, he knew his ship and earned Captain by right of such skill. He was not very clean and could use a bath that was certain but he seemed healthy. The Healer still hadn’t said a word. Her heart beat raised with each moment that ticked by as it seemed to be coming out of her chest at times.

[Prophet]

The captain watched the little thing move about as if her dignity had been torn but his crude wake up call. He scoffed but didn’t move. He simply watched with the curious gaze of a predator who knows his prey is trapped. Taking up a position by the table might have seemed like a good idea but it was only going to result in her body being slammed against harder surfaces. At least the bed mat had some cushion. The cabin pitched to the stern a bit and then righted. The ship was a schooner so its small size allowed for greater acceleration and overall speed but there was a sacrifice of stability to obtain those advantages. The constant motion of the vessel had led to such things as silverware, ink quills and any other loose object to be tucked away in a chest or a satchel somewhere. The only thing on that entire side of the cabin that wasn’t fastened to the floor was his chair. The empty eyes twinkled as the blue eyes found him once more. “You keep looking at me like that, little petch, and I’m going to have to charge you.”

His common was spot on but then he said something in a language that Amunet didn’t understand though it sounded like the one he used with his sailors. His face lit up like the wicked of the world cresting upon a full moon. His arm moved slightly and pushed his body from the beam. He made slow deliberate steps that were both lazy and graceful. He allowed his boot to swing in the air while ship moved before planting it on the floor. The wood creaked with a sturdy groan announcing that his weight had shifted forward. Again, the diabolical man would kick his foot out and allow the sea’s rhythm to decide where it should land. Through every action, he seemed to remain perfectly upright even though the ship was behaving as if it was traversing rough seas. He whistled a soft tune as he took another step and then stopped to lean on his table. His face had an almost sympathetic expression as he leaned across the piece of furniture that separated them. “Ya know, girl, that your life could be so much easier if you cooperated.” Mack loved to use things like that. It almost certainly would inspire defiance in the young lass and that would just mean more fun for him. His eyes held the same hungry gleam that Amunet saw when she first woke up.

Mack grabbed the table with a thud as his palms crashed down upon it. A grin ripped open his face to reveal dirty teeth; some crooked, some missing and some discolored. The saliva that strung out between his lips was fitting. The savagery he was planning was easily comparable to the behavior of a rabid dog. He feigned to move around the table one way to gauge if she would try to run or fight. He was close enough to hit but even on solid ground that was harder than it seemed. He feigned the other direction them flung his legs over the able using the base his hands had already established. One boot hit the floor followed by the second. His body lunched forth catching her between his body and the wardrobe behind her. His hands fought with her to keep her from scratching him. After a few minutes of this he was able to wrest her hands out and down by her hips. He ground his pelvis against her body and reveled in the power he felt by controlling the girl. It didn’t matter if it was fear, anger or disgust. He had seen all of these things in her eyes and she would bow to him before things were all over. The captain stared into her eyes licking his dry lips and breathing on Amunet’s chin. Suddenly, he bent his face into her neck and smeared his filth against her pale skin by pressing his lips, tongue and teeth to her flesh. Even after a few days in the hold, she was still sweeter than anything he’d tasted in a while. His appetite now whetted, he straightened and winked at the girl. “Five.” While he stood there admiring her, the dim light of the room reflected off of several trinkets that dangled from a chain which hung around the man’s neck. There looked to be some reflective pieces of metal, a stone arrowhead or two and some teeth from a crockalisk or sharp or some other kind of predatory beast.

Using the grip on her wrists, Mack whirled her around until she was facing the wall and then shoved up against her with his body. Being larger and stronger and more comfortable on sea, he had every advantage. The Captain brought her wrists together by her face and placed both of her dainty wrists within the grasp of his right hand. He used his chest and hips to keep pressure on her lithe form while he kicked at her feet trying to spread her legs. His left hand began to wander along Amunet’s side touching every single square inch of her that he could. He fingers found their way against her breast and like a brute, he cupped and squeezed like he was trying to haul an anchor line. The soft flesh would be pliable but not keep the filthy interests of the man occupied for long. Grunting as he struggled with the Drykas woman, he used his free hand to gather all of her hair off to his right side where the constant pressure of his chest and arm would keep it out of his way. While still clinging to her hands with his right fist, Captain Mack twisted at the waist and slid his left hand down past her hip and onto her upper thigh. He made clumsy movements to gather the dress, each swipe bringing up a few more inches. His bots continued to dance with her feet but he found no leeway in separating the legs which he now could see were very shapely and incandescently pale. The young thing’s body nearly glowed in the firelight from the candles and braziers. In his lust, the man grew impatient and bent around her body taking his weight from her back and placing it at her left hip. His right hand released her wrists but fell back to grab as much hair as he could. Jerking back then shoving forward on her head, he bent down with his left arm and wrapped it inside her left knee. With a yank, he intended to spread her legs and had his feet ready to block her out. His head was right by her waist but both hands held firm grips on their respective body parts.

[Amunet]

‘Five’

By all that is good and holy, what is this five? On second thought, there is nothing holy about this. What the hell is the man going on about not to mention he had no right? The man claimed her neck as if it was sticky sweet honey licked up by a bear, slobbering on it and what was that? Teeth? What the petch? The girl tried shoving him away but to no avail he had her hands. Her wiry frame was a little stronger than he might have realized despite his advantage. Her legs crossed and she hooked her ankles together. She was pressed heavily against the wardrobe as his weight kept her there till he spun her around.

The girl rose up on the ball of her foot as he brought her around keeping her legs firmly entwined and crossed. He was trying to get her legs open hard. She would deny him that. It was her virtue and hers alone to give. He was most definitely not a candidate for that to be given to in any fantasy he may concoct. Then he had her hair. It was entirely very convenient as a handle. That flash of metal had her eyes darting to his neck as she saw the curious adornment. The amount of odds and ends baubles on it gave her the impression that It was important. No one puts that hodge podge of assorted things together on one chain if it wasn’t important.

She was breathing hard as he brought his hand around to her knee to try and jerk it free of its constricted grip of a hold on each other. The girl squeezed harder as his fingers tried to worm their way into the space to separate knee from leg. The thought came as she remembered seeing some of her fellow drykas in their pre rituals before going to bed to make a baby or whatever it is they find fun in the bed chambers. Lets see if she remembered something correctly.

The girl let out a sound she hoped sounded like a moan. Honestly it sounded like a sick seal but it was the best she could come up with as she leaned back against his chest. Her back arched more up before her behind relaxed and pressed back. The hand would slide up and around his neck as those silky delicate little fingers would ever so gently course over the rough skin of the pirate’s neck. She grasped it suddenly as she made that noise again before it slipped down lower onto the lower part of his neck as she pressed further back against him. Her bottom swayed a little left and a little right as to her surprise there was hardness there. It caught her off guard for a moment as she was surprised she could invoke such a feeling.

She blinked as her fingers found its prize and her focus renewed on its target. As he caressed her, she relaxed and waited a tick or two before she yanked down hard on the chain at his neck and spun around , hopefully out of his reach at the same time. Her other hand would strike out an elbow on an upward forty five degree angle, before the fist with the chain would lash out at his face. Given enough berth, she would back away towards the door holding her prize in her hand. The fire was full in her eyes as she looked at him with a determination and a steely resolve he may not have seen in a woman before. “Life, hard. Always, hard. “ The girl’s common was a little broken but not bad. Her voice would sound like velvet on silk. It was as beautiful as promised by her appearance. “You know nothing of hard, only of take.“ The word cooperation held no meaning to her so she could not interpret that word.

[Prophet]

Mack was growing impatient. The woman was being far too difficult for her size and the good captain was running out of rope to give her. In fact, his mind was wandering to the idea of cutting on her a little bit to get her to cooperate. The more he tried to force his agenda, the more she resisted. Right before his hand went to flirt with a hidden blade, the girl started to react in a more acceptable manner. A strange sound escaped her lips but she pressed back against him. Ol’ Mack must’ve hit the on switch.

Grinning, he rose and allowed his body to conform to her new stance. His eagerness was reveled in the tension of his trousers and the greediness of his hands. The dress she’d been placed in had hung without an owner for almost three years and she sunk into it quite well with her petite frame. In a smooth action, the pirate took hold of her by the waist and hair bringing her body tight to his own. His face dove against her neck once more since her hair had been pulled aside. His hips dropped some with a flex of his knees allowing his pelvis to accept the backwards push of her derriere.

“That’s more like it, pet.” He breathed heavily against her neck as he tasted the pure, ivory skin. The hand on her waist pressed and walked fingertips against sensitive places and in his excitement, Mack began a slight gyration of his body openly allowing her grasp of his neck to become part of the dance. Because of his trance-like state, he was unprepared for the elbow that removed the air from his lungs. His hands gripped tightly to her hair and the dress. When she turned and smashed him in the face with his own necklace, the dress ripped open over her left hip as his body staggered back.

“Filthy, petch!” He reached out with lightning speed and brought the back of his knuckles against her cheek. Before Amunet could react, the small healer would be scooped up and roughly carried to the edge of the cabin. The captain’s booted heel would crash the doors open and then hurl her onto the main deck. Stepping out and dabbing at a cut above his eye, Mack snarled and all of the commotion stopped to pay attention to him.

“The little bitch is more trouble than she’s worth. She’s all yours, lads.” He spit on Amunet and returned to his cabin, closing the doors behind him. There were a few moments of stillness while the solitary clunk of heeled boots echoed over the wooden surface. Bones, the first mate and chief interrogator, stalked over to the red head. Kneeling down, the attractive woman laid her hollow eyes over the Drykas female and inhaled deeply of Amunet’s scent. Leaning in close, she whispered Common with her lips tickling Amunet’s ear. “You should’ve pleased the captain when you had the chance, little petch.” Bones got up and turned to face the ragtag crew who stared at their foreman and also at the sweet piece of meat on the deck. Bones smiled. It was something that was scarier than a pack of hungry night lions to see the grin on her visage and then spoke in Fratava. “She smells like a virgin, boys. Maybe Goada should be first.”

There was laughter and a handful of groans as well. Out of the crowd, the deep thud of large boots clunked closer to where a circle had formed around the young maiden. In a parting of bodies, a massive blue man stepped into sight. The Akalak was probably seven feet tall and had to be four times as big as the healer. Rubbing on himself, he started towards the girl with hands as big as her head. One leg was as big as Amunet’s entire body. Suddenly, there was a shout from behind the group. It was in Pavi and very clearly stated for everyone to stop. All eyes turned to see the Drykas who had asked to join the pirates. He was holding a cutlass. Goada looked agitated but Bones appeared as if she might melt the insolent man with her gaze.

She stomped over to him and clutched at her cat o’ nine tails. “What is it, welp? Are you so small that you want to go first?” This brought much laughter from the crew. Her tone teased him but his eyes went to Amunet’s blue stare. He signed for her to run and then ran the blade through the abdomen of the first mate. The woman couldn’t even cry out but simply stared as he pushed until the hilt touched skin leaving the entire length of the sword protruding from Bones’ back. Once again, everything was still and silent.

[Amunet]

The back hand she expected. The quickness and force of it was perhaps more unexpected than she thought. As her hand goes to her cheek she is hoisted onto his shoulder and thrown onto the deck in short order. The red head could feel the bruise from the landing along that side of her body. As the girl lifted herself back up to watch the retreating back of the pissed off Captain, the new menace or rather menaces. Her eyes widened as her heart started racing. Her legs bunched together as the split of the dress curled up to her waist as she kept her legs together. It was a reflexive defensive move.

She didn’t understand what was being said, but the laughter was not hard to figure out. A giant of a blue man came forward as the wood shook at his steps. Those light sky blue eyes grew wider and wider as she also saw what bulge he head for manhood. The girl scooted backwards till her back hit a barrel. Frantically she looked for something to arm herself with. The men laughed and made noises that indicated the nature of this half circle around her. The wicked grins on their faces as they got to be first in line at this piece of meat. Amunet had ran out of options as her heart thudded rapidly. Her eyes closed as she prayed to Laviku and Zulrav to help her.

The voice of the shout came had her eyes flying open. This took some attention off of her as the Drykas man who joined the crew spoke up. The sign he gave her was unmistakable as was the cutlass that drove the first mate through. Those around her moved towards the Drykas man as the diminutive red head stood up. ‘Run!’ He insisted in his sign. The girl turned her head this way and that as there was not a lot of places to run. She got up from her frozen repose and headed to the edge of the ship. She looked at the edge and then at the water over the side. Fear crossed her face as she saw all of that water. The woman was ran through with the cutlass as she turned her head and several of the pirates reacted to that.

Goada had no such distraction as he was moving towards the red head. “Don’t be a fool. I won’t hurt you too badly.” The girl climbed up onto the edge of the wood and held onto the rope that was all over the ship. She grasped it as she looked back at the big blue man. He slammed his fist onto the railing she was on as she squealed. It had the opposite effect as she leaped into the water in a non-graceful splash into the water. Amunet prayed fervently to Laviku, the god of the sea to preserve her, help her, save her, something. The girl sunk down as she tried to valiantly flail her arms to go to the surface. Her legs kick out as she tried to get to the surface to take a breath of air.