The pirate boy (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter five - isn't it tragic?

Chapter five - isn't it tragic?

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"Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire."

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I think I was expected to feel disappointed about missing the fight, judging by the sympathetic pat on the back I received from James after being told I had to stay below deck.

I assumed then that James must have blindly overlooked the fact that this would give me the perfect opportunity to break into the cell without Gerard in the way. I had already made it into his room, no fuss. He had left the door unlocked when he went running to save his tie. Now all I had to do was find the key and I was all set. And by give of the frenzied screaming I could hear from upstairs, the fighting wasn't anywhere near over yet, and I would have plenty of time to rifle through Gerard's personal possessions.

To be honest, I was rather unimpressed with what I found. For a pirate, Gerard didn't have very much gold. Or really anything of value at all, for that matter. There were a few charcoal sketches of miscellaneous objects littered over his desk, a small footlocker underneath his bed (along with a stash of rum that could probably last several years), and a wardrobe of rather typical pirate clothes. The footlocker was bolted shut, and I couldn't think of anywhere he could be hiding the key for that, let alone something as important as the key for the cargo hold.

I traipsed back to the table I had previously been tied to and slumped into a chair, disheartened. Gerard must be carrying the key on him. I wondered if it was too late to beg him. I really wanted to say goodbye to Jamia.

Luckily for me, though, I didn't have to talk to Gerard again in order to gain access to the cell.

The fight upstairs started to spill down below when one of the enemy men crashed through a weak floorboard and had to smash half the floor with the handle of his knife to get down. A short blonde I recognised as Stump quickly jumped down after him, shrieking and wielding a bent sword.

The opposing pirate crashed through the door of the cargo hold, probably looking for escape (or just another route back up to the deck), leaving the door open for the prisoners to hurriedly scuttle out in a messy stream, like rats fleeing a flooded sewer.

I scanned the small crowd for Jamia, but couldn't find her anywhere. "Jamia?" I called apprehensively, hoping that the enemy pirate was too busy defending himself from a crazed Patrick to notice me.

But I should have been more worried for Jamia than I was for myself. I should have tried to protect her. Because only seconds later, I heard a terrified scream, and the sickeningly familiar squelch and crunch of a dagger in someone's ribs.

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Patrick was quick to finish the attacker off after that, dropping his sword, then swiftly snapping the enemy's neck and kicking his body into the corner so he could check Jamia over. Shaking with fear, I hurried into the room after Patrick.